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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28495-8.txt b/28495-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e521a8f --- /dev/null +++ b/28495-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1841 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Scally, by Ian Hay + + +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: Scally + The Story of a Perfect Gentleman + + +Author: Ian Hay + + + +Release Date: April 4, 2009 [eBook #28495] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCALLY*** + + +E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 28495-h.htm or 28495-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/4/9/28495/28495-h/28495-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/4/9/28495/28495-h.zip) + + + + + +SCALLY + +The Story of a Perfect Gentleman + +by + +IAN HAY + + * * * * * + +By Ian Hay + + SCALLY: THE STORY OF A PERFECT GENTLEMAN. With Frontispiece. + A KNIGHT ON WHEELS. + HAPPY-GO-LUCKY. Illustrated by Charles E. Brock. + A SAFETY MATCH. With frontispiece. + A MAN'S MAN. With frontispiece. + THE RIGHT STUFF. With frontispiece. + + HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + BOSTON AND NEW YORK + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE LEADING OBJECT PROVED TO BE A SMALL, WET, SHIVERING, +WHIMPERING PUPPY] + + +SCALLY + +The Story of a Perfect Gentleman + +by + +IAN HAY + + + + + + +[Illustration] + + +Boston and New York +Houghton Mifflin Company +MDCCCCXV + +Copyright, 1914, by the Curtis Publishing Company +Copyright, 1915, by Ian Hay Beith +All Rights Reserved + +Published November 1915 + + + + +SCALLY + + + + +SCALLY + +THE STORY OF A PERFECT GENTLEMAN + + + + +I + + +"BETTERSEA trem? Right, miss!" My wife, who has been married long +enough to feel deeply gratified at being mistaken for a maiden lady, +smiled seraphically at the conductor, and allowed herself to be hoisted +up the steps of the majestic vehicle provided by a paternal county +council to convey passengers--at a loss to the ratepayers, I +understand--from the Embankment to Battersea. + +Presently we ground our way round a curve and began to cross Westminster +Bridge. The conductor, whose innate cockney bonhomie his high official +position had failed to eradicate, presented himself before us and +collected our fares. + +"What part of Bettersea did you require, sir?" he asked of me. + +I coughed and answered evasively:-- + +"Oh, about the middle." + +"We haven't been there before," added my wife, quite gratuitously. + +The conductor smiled indulgently and punched our tickets. + +"I'll tell you when to get down," he said, and left us. + +For some months we had been considering the question of buying a dog, +and a good deal of our spare time--or perhaps I should say of my spare +time, for a woman's time is naturally all her own--had been pleasantly +occupied in discussing the matter. Having at length committed ourselves +to the purchase of the animal, we proceeded to consider such details as +breed, sex, and age. + +My wife vacillated between a bloodhound, because bloodhounds are so +aristocratic in appearance, and a Pekinese, because they are _dernier +cri_. We like to be _dernier cri_ even in Much Moreham. Her younger +sister, Eileen, who spends a good deal of time with us, having no +parents of her own, suggested an Old English sheep dog, explaining that +it would be company for my wife when I was away from home. I coldly +recommended a mastiff. + +Our son John, aged three, on being consulted, expressed a preference for +twelve tigers in a box, and was not again invited to participate in the +debate. + +Finally we decided on an Aberdeen terrier, of an age and sex to be +settled by circumstances, and I was instructed to communicate with a +gentleman in the North who advertised in our morning paper that Aberdeen +terriers were his specialty. In due course we received a reply. The +advertiser recommended two animals--namely, Celtic Chief, aged four +months, and Scotia's Pride, aged one year. Pedigrees were inclosed, each +about as complicated as the family tree of the House of Hapsburg; and +the favor of an early reply was requested, as both dogs were being hotly +bid for by an anonymous client in Constantinople. + +The price of Celtic Chief was twenty guineas; that of Scotia's Pride, +for reasons heavily underlined in the pedigree, was twenty-seven. The +advertiser, who resided in Aberdeen, added that these prices did not +cover cost of carriage. We decided not to stand in the way of the +gentleman in Constantinople, and having sent back the pedigrees by +return of post, resumed the debate. + +Finally Stella, my wife, said:-- + +"We don't really want a dog with a pedigree. We only want something that +will bark at beggars and be gentle with baby. Why not go to the Home for +Lost Dogs at Battersea? I believe you can get any dog you like there for +five shillings. We will run up to town next Wednesday and see about +it--and I might get some clothes as well." + +Hence our presence on the tram. + +Presently the conductor, who had kindly pointed out to us such objects +of local interest as the River Thames and the Houses of Parliament, +stopped the tram in a crowded thoroughfare and announced that we were in +Battersea. + +"Alight here," he announced facetiously, "for 'Ome for Lost Dawgs!" + +Guiltily realizing that there is many a true word spoken in jest, we +obeyed him, and the tram went rocking and whizzing out of sight. We had +eschewed a cab. + +"When you are only going to pay five shillings for a dog," my wife had +pointed out, with convincing logic, "it is silly to go and pay perhaps +another five shillings for a cab. It doubles the price of the dog at +once. If we had been buying an expensive dog we might have taken a cab; +but not for a five-shilling one." + +"Now," I inquired briskly, "how are we going to find this place?" + +"Haven't you any idea where it is?" + +"No. I have a sort of vague notion that it is on an island in the middle +of the river, called the Isle of Dogs, or Barking Reach, or something +like that. However, I have no doubt--" + +"Hadn't we better ask some one?" suggested Stella. + +I demurred. + +"If there is one thing I dislike," I said, "it is accosting total +strangers and badgering them for information they don't possess--not +that that will prevent them from giving it. If we start asking the way +we shall find ourselves in Putney or Woolwich in no time!" + +"Yes, dear," said Stella soothingly. + +"Now I suggest--" My hand went to my pocket. + +"No, darling," interposed my wife, hastily; "not a map, please!" It is a +curious psychological fact that women have a constitutional aversion to +maps and railroad time-tables. They would rather consult a half-witted +errand boy or a deaf railroad porter. "Do not let us make a spectacle of +ourselves in the public streets again! I have not yet forgotten the day +when you tried to find the Crystal Palace. Besides, it will only blow +away. Ask that dear little boy there. He is looking at us so wistfully." + +Yes; I admit it was criminal folly. A man who asks a London street boy +to be so kind as to direct him to a Home for Lost Dogs has only himself +to thank for the consequence. + +The wistful little boy smiled up at us. He had a pinched face and large +eyes. + +"Lost Dogs' 'Ome, sir?" he said courteously. "It's a good long way. Do +you want to get there quick?" + +"Yes." + +"Then if I was you, sir," replied the infant, edging to the mouth of an +alleyway, "I should bite a policeman!" And, with an ear-splitting yell, +he vanished. + +We walked on, hot-faced. + +"Little wretch!" said Stella. + +"We simply asked for it," I rejoined. "What are we going to do next?" + +My question was answered in a most incredible fashion, for at this +moment a man emerged from a shop on our right and set off down the +street before us. He wore a species of uniform; and emblazoned on the +front of his hat was the information that he was an official of the +Battersea Home for Lost and Starving Dogs. + +"Wait a minute and I will ask him," I said, starting forward. + +But my wife would not hear of it. + +"Certainly not," she replied. "If we ask him he will simply offer to +show us the way. Then we shall have to talk to him--about hydrophobia, +and lethal chambers, and distemper--and it may be for miles. I simply +couldn't bear it! We shall have to tip him, too. Let us follow him +quietly." + +To those who have never attempted to track a fellow creature +surreptitiously through the streets of London on a hot day, the feat may +appear simple. It is in reality a most exhausting, dilatory, and +humiliating exercise. Our difficulty lay not so much in keeping our +friend in sight as in avoiding frequent and unexpected collisions with +him. The general idea, as they say on field days, was to keep about +twenty yards behind him; but under certain circumstances distance has an +uncanny habit of annihilating itself. The man himself was no hustler. +Once or twice he stopped to light his pipe or converse with a friend. + +During these interludes Stella and I loafed guiltily on the pavement, +pointing out to one another objects of local interest with the fatuous +officiousness of people in the foreground of hotel advertisements. +Occasionally he paused to contemplate the contents of a shop window. We +gazed industriously into the window next door. Our first window, I +recollect, was an undertaker's, with ready-printed expressions of grief +for sale on white porcelain disks. We had time to read them all. The +next was a butcher's. Here we stayed, perforce, so long that the +proprietor, who was of the tribe that disposes of its wares almost +entirely by personal canvass, came out into the street and endeavored to +sell us a bullock's heart. + +Our quarry's next proceeding was to dive into a public house. We turned +and surveyed one another. + +"What are we to do now?" inquired my wife. + +"Go inside, too," I replied with more enthusiasm than I had hitherto +displayed. "At least, I think I ought to. You can please yourself." + +"I will not be left in the street," said Stella firmly. "We must just +wait here together until he comes out." + +"There may be another exit," I objected. "We had better go in. I shall +take something, just to keep up appearances; and you must sit down in +the ladies' bar, or the snug, or whatever they call it." + +"Certainly not!" said Stella. + +We had arrived at this _impasse_ when the man suddenly reappeared, +wiping his mouth. Instantly and silently we fell in behind him. + +For the first time the man appeared to notice our presence. He regarded +us curiously, with a faint gleam of recognition in his eyes, and then +set off down the street at a good pace. We followed, panting. Once or +twice he looked back over his shoulder a little apprehensively, I +thought. But we ploughed on. + +"We ought to get there soon at this pace," I gasped. "Hello! He's gone +again!" + +"He turned down to the right," said Stella excitedly. + +The lust of the chase was fairly on us now. We swung eagerly round the +corner into a quiet by-street. Our man was nowhere to be seen and the +street was almost empty. + +"Come on!" said Stella. "He may have turned in somewhere." + +We hurried down the street. Suddenly, warned by a newly awakened and +primitive instinct, I looked back. We had overrun our quarry. He had +just emerged from some hiding place and was heading back toward the main +street, looking fearfully over his shoulder. Once more we were in full +cry. + +For the next five minutes we practically ran--all three of us. The man +was obviously frightened out of his wits, and kept making frenzied and +spasmodic spurts, from which we surmised that he was getting to the end +of his powers of endurance. + +"If only we could overtake him," I said, hauling my exhausted spouse +along by the arm, "we could explain that--" + +"He's gone again!" exclaimed Stella. + +She was right. The man had turned another corner. We followed him round +hotfoot, and found ourselves in a prim little _cul-de-sac_, with villas +on each side. Across the end of the street ran a high wall, obviously +screening a railroad track. + +"We've got him!" I exclaimed. + +I felt as Moltke must have felt when he closed the circle at Sedan. + +"But where is the Dogs' Home, dear?" inquired Stella. + +The question was never answered, for at this moment the man ran up the +steps of the fourth villa on the left and slipped a latchkey into the +lock. The door closed behind him with a venomous snap and we were left +alone in the street, guideless and dogless. + +A minute later the man appeared at the ground-floor window, accompanied +by a female of commanding appearance. He pointed us out to her. Behind +them we could dimly descry a white tablecloth, a tea cozy and covered +dishes. + +The commanding female, after a prolonged and withering glare, plucked a +hairpin from her head and ostentatiously proceeded to skewer together +the starchy white curtains that framed the window. Privacy secured and +the sanctity of the English home thus pointedly vindicated, she and her +husband disappeared into the murky background, where they doubtless sat +down to an excellent high tea. Exhausted and discomfited, we drifted +away. + +"I am going home," said Stella in a hollow voice. "And I think," she +added bitterly, "that it might have occurred to you to suggest that the +creature might possibly be going from the Dogs' Home and not to it." + +I apologized. It is the simplest plan, really. + + + + +II + + +IT was almost dark when the train arrived at our little country +station. We set out to walk home by the short cut across the golf +course. + +"Anyhow, we have saved five shillings," remarked Stella. + +"We paid half a crown for that taxi which took us back to Victoria +Station," I reminded her. + +"Do not argue to-night, darling," responded my wife. "I simply cannot +endure anything more." + +Plainly she was a little unstrung. Very considerately, I selected +another topic. + +"I think our best plan," I said cheerfully, "would be to advertise for a +dog." + +"I never wish to see a dog again," replied Stella. + +I surveyed her with some concern and said gently:-- + +"I am afraid you are tired, dear." + +"No; I'm not." + +"A little shaken, perhaps?" + +"Nothing of the kind. Joe, what is that?" + +Stella's fingers bit deep into my biceps muscle, causing me considerable +pain. We were passing a small sheet of water which guards the thirteenth +green on the golf course. It is a stagnant and unclean pool, but we make +rather a fuss of it. We call it the pond; and if you play a ball into it +you send a blasphemous caddie in after it and count one stroke. + +A young moon was struggling up over the trees, dismally illuminating +the scene. On the slimy shores of the pond we beheld a small moving +object. + +A yard behind it was another object, a little smaller, moving at exactly +the same pace. One of the objects was emitting sounds of distress. + +Abandoning my quaking consort I advanced to the edge of the pond and +leaned down to investigate the mystery. + +The leading object proved to be a small, wet, shivering, whimpering +puppy. The satellite was a brick. The two were connected by a string. +The puppy had just emerged from the depths of the pond, towing the brick +behind it. + +"What is it, dear?" repeated Stella fearfully. + +"Your dog!" I replied, and cut the string. + + + + +III + + +WE spent three days deciding on a name for him. Stella suggested +Tiny, on account of his size. I pointed out that time might stultify +this selection of a title. + +"I don't think so," said Eileen, supporting her sister. "That kind of +dog does not grow very big." + +"What kind of dog is he?" I inquired swiftly. + +Eileen said no more. There are problems that even girls of twenty cannot +solve. + +A warm bath had revealed to us the fact that the puppy was of a dingy +yellow hue. I suggested that we should call him Mustard. Our son John, +on being consulted--against my advice--by his mother, addressed the +animal as Pussy. Stella continued to favor Tiny. Finally Eileen, who was +at the romantic age, produced a copy of Tennyson and suggested +Excalibur, alleging in support of her preposterous proposition that + + It rose from out the bosom of the lake. + +"The darling rose from out the bosom of the lake, too, just like the +sword Excalibur," she said; "so I think it would make a lovely name for +him." + +"The little brute waded out of a muddy pond towing a brick," I replied. +"I see no parallel. He was not the product of the pond. Some one must +have thrown him in, and he came out." + +"That is just what some one must have done with the sword," retorted +Eileen. "So we'll call you Excalibur, won't we, darling little Scally?" + +She embraced the puppy warmly and the unsuspecting animal replied by +frantically licking her face. + +However, the name stuck, with variations. When the puppy was big enough +he was presented with a collar, engraved with the name Excalibur, +together with my name and address. Among ourselves we usually addressed +him as Scally. The children in the village called him the Scalawag. + +His time during his first year in our household was fully occupied in +growing up. Stella declared that if one could have persuaded him to +stand still for five minutes it would have been actually possible to +see him grow. He grew at the rate of about an inch a week for the best +part of a year. When he had finished he looked like nothing on earth. At +one time we cherished a brief but illusory hope that he was going to +turn into some sort of an imitation of a St. Bernard; but the symptoms +rapidly passed off, and his final and permanent aspect was that of a +rather badly stuffed lion. + +Like most overgrown creatures he was top-heavy and lethargic and very +humble-minded. Still, there was a kind of respectful pertinacity about +him. It requires some strength of character, for instance, to wade along +the bottom of a pond to dry land, accompanied by a brick as big as +yourself. It was quite impossible, too, short of locking him up, to +prevent him from accompanying us when we took our walks abroad, if he +had made up his mind to do so. + +The first time this happened I was going to shoot with my neighbors, the +Hoods. It was only a mile to the first covert and I set off after +breakfast to walk. I was hardly out on the road when Excalibur was +beside me, ambling uncertainly on his weedy legs and smiling up into my +face with an air of imbecile affection. + +"You have many qualities, old friend," I said, "but I don't think you +are a sporting dog. Go home!" + +Excalibur sat down on the road with a dejected air. Then, having given +me fifty yards start, he rose and crawled sheepishly after me. I +stopped, called him up, pointed him with some difficulty in the +required direction, gave him a resounding spank and bade him begone. He +responded by collapsing like a camp bedstead, and I left him. + +Two minutes later I looked round. Excalibur was ten yards behind me, +propelling himself along on his stomach. This time I thrashed him +severely. After he began to howl I let him go, and he lumbered away +homeward, the picture of misery. + +In due course I reached the crossroads where I had arranged to meet the +rest of the party. They had not arrived, but Excalibur had. He had made +a détour and headed me off. Not certain which route I would take after +reaching the crossroads, he was sitting very sensibly under the +signpost, awaiting my arrival. On seeing me he immediately came +forward, wagging his tail, and placed himself at my feet in the position +most convenient to me for inflicting chastisement. + +I wonder how many of our human friends would be willing to pay such a +price for the pleasure of our company. + +As time went on Excalibur filled out into one of the most terrifying +spectacles I have ever beheld. In one respect, though, he lived up to +his knightly name. His manners were of the most courtly description and +he had an affectionate greeting for all, beggars included. He was +particularly fond of children. If he saw children in the distance he +would canter up and offer to play with them. If the children had not met +him before they would run shrieking to their nurses. If they had they +would fall on Excalibur in a body and roll him over and pull him about. + +On wet afternoons, in the nursery, my own family used to play at dentist +with him, assigning to Excalibur the rôle of patient. Gas was +administered with a bicycle pump, and a shoehorn and buttonhook were +employed in place of the ordinary instruments of torture; but Excalibur +did not mind. He lay on his back on the hearth rug, with the principal +dentist sitting astride his ribs, as happy as a king. + +He was particularly attracted by babies; and being able by reason of his +stature to look right down into perambulators, he was accustomed +whenever he met one of those vehicles to amble alongside and peer +inquiringly into the face of its occupant. Most of the babies in the +district got to know him in time, but until they did we had a good deal +of correspondence to attend to on the subject. + +Excalibur's intellect may have been lofty, but his memory was +treacherous. Our household will never forget the day on which he was +given the shoulder of mutton. + +One morning after breakfast Eileen, accompanied by Excalibur, +intercepted the kitchen maid hastening in the direction of the potting +shed, carrying the joint in question at arm's length. The damsel +explained that its premature maturity was due to the recent warm weather +and that she was even now in search of the gardener's boy, who would be +commissioned to perform the duties of sexton. + +"It seems a waste, miss," observed the kitchen maid; "but cook says it +can't be ate nohow now." + +Loud but respectful snuffings from Excalibur moved a direct negative to +this statement. Eileen and the kitchen maid, who were both criminally +weak where Excalibur was concerned, saw a way to gratify their +economical instincts and their natural affection simultaneously. The +next moment Excalibur was lurching contentedly down the gravel path with +a presentation shoulder of mutton in his mouth. + +Then Joy Day began. Excalibur took his prize into the middle of the +tennis lawn. It was a very large shoulder of mutton, but Excalibur +finished it in ten minutes. After that, distended to his utmost limits, +he went to sleep in the sun, with the bone between his paws. +Occasionally he woke up and, raising his head, stared solemnly into +space, in the attitude of a Trafalgar Square lion. + +The bone now lay white and gleaming on the grass beside him. Then he +fell asleep again. About four o'clock he roused himself and began to +look for a suitable place of interment for the bone. By four-thirty the +deed was done and he went to sleep once more. At five he woke up and +pandemonium began. He could not remember where he had buried the bone! + +He started systematically with the rose beds, but met with no success. +After that he tried two or three shrubberies without avail, and then +embarked on a frantic but thorough excavation of the tennis lawn. We +were taking tea on the lawn at the time, and our attention was first +drawn to Excalibur's bereavement by a temporary but unshakable +conviction on his part that the bone was buried immediately underneath +the tea table. + +As the tennis lawn was fast beginning to resemble a golf course we +locked Excalibur up in the washhouse, where his hyena-like howls rent +the air for the rest of the evening, penetrating even to the +dining-room. This was particularly unfortunate, because we were having a +dinner party in honor of a neighbor who had recently come to the +district, no less a personage, in fact, than the new lord-lieutenant of +the county and his lady. Stella was naturally anxious that there should +be no embarrassments on such an occasion, and it distressed her to think +that these people should imagine that we kept a private torture chamber +on the premises. + +However, dinner passed off quite successfully and we adjourned to the +drawing-room. It was a chilly September evening and Lady Wickham was +accommodated with a seat by the fire in a large armchair, with a cushion +at her back. When the gentlemen came in Eileen sang to us. Fortunately +the drawing-room is out of range of the washhouse. + +During Eileen's first song I sat by Lady Wickham. Her expression was one +of patrician calm and well-bred repose, but it seemed to me she was not +looking quite comfortable. I was not feeling quite comfortable myself. +The atmosphere seemed a trifle oppressive: perhaps we had done wrong in +having a fire after all. Lady Wickham appeared to notice it too. She sat +very upright, fanning herself mechanically, and seemed disinclined to +lean back in her chair. + +After the song was finished I said: + +"I am afraid you are not quite comfortable, Lady Wickham. Let me get you +a larger cushion." + +"Thank you," said Lady Wickham, "the cushion I have is delightfully +comfortable; but I think there is something hard behind it." + +Apologetically I plucked away the cushion. Lady Wickham was right; there +was something behind it. + +It was Excalibur's bone! + + + + +IV + + +A WALK along the village street was always a great event for +Excalibur. Still, it must have contained many humiliating moments for +one of his sensitive disposition; for he was always pathetically anxious +to make friends with other dogs, but was rarely successful. Little dogs +merely bit his legs and big dogs cut him dead. + +I think this was why he usually commenced his morning round by calling +on a rabbit. The rabbit lived in a hutch in a yard at the end of a +passage between two cottages, the first turning on the right after you +entered the village, and Excalibur always dived down this at the +earliest opportunity. It was no use for Eileen, who usually took him +out on these occasions, to endeavor to hold him back. Either Excalibur +called on the rabbit by himself or Eileen went with him; there was no +other alternative. + +Arrived at the hutch, Excalibur wagged his tail and contemplated the +rabbit with his usual air of vacuous benevolence. The rabbit made not +the faintest response, but continued to munch green feed, twitching its +nose in a superior manner. Finally, when it could endure Excalibur's +admiring inspection and hard breathing no longer, it turned its back and +retired into its bedroom. + +Excalibur's next call was usually at the butcher's shop, where he was +presented with a specially selected and quite unsalable fragment of +meat. He then crossed the road to the baker's, where he purchased a +halfpenny bun, for which his escort was expected to pay. After that he +walked from shop to shop, wherever he was taken, with great docility and +enjoyment; for he was a gregarious animal and had a friend behind or +underneath almost every counter in the village. Men, women, babies, +kittens, even ducks--they were all one to him. + +At one time Eileen had endeavored to teach him a few simple +accomplishments, such as begging for food, dying for his country, and +carrying parcels. She was unsuccessful in all three instances. Excalibur +on his hind legs stood about five feet six, and when he fell from that +eminence, as he invariably did when he tried to beg, he usually broke +something. He was hampered, too, by inability to distinguish one order +from another. More than once he narrowly escaped with his life through +mistaking an urgent appeal to come to heel out of the way of an +approaching automobile for a command to die for his country in the +middle of the road. + +As for educating him to carry parcels, a single attempt was sufficient. +The parcel in question contained a miscellaneous assortment of articles +from the grocer's, including lard, soap, and safety matches. It was +securely tied up, and the grocer kindly attached it by a short length of +string to a wooden clothespin, in order to make it easier for Excalibur +to carry. They set off home. + +Excalibur was most apologetic about it afterward, besides being +extremely unwell; but he had no idea, he explained to Eileen, that +anything put into his mouth was not meant to be eaten. He then tendered +the clothespin and some mangled brown paper, with an air of profound +abasement. After that no further attempts at compulsory education were +undertaken. + +It was his daily walk with Eileen, however, which introduced Excalibur +to life--life in its broadest and most romantic sense. As I was not +privileged to be present at the opening incident of this episode, or at +most of its subsequent developments, the direct conduct of this +narrative here passes out of my hands. + +One sunny morning in July a young man in clerical attire sat +breakfasting in his rooms at Mrs. Tice's. Mrs. Tice's establishment was +situated on the village street and Mrs. Tice was in the habit of letting +her ground floor to lodgers of impeccable respectability. + +It was half-past eleven, which is a late hour for the clergy to +breakfast; but this young man appeared to be suffering from no qualms of +conscience on the subject. He was making an excellent breakfast and +reading the Henley results with a mixture of rapture and longing. + +He had just removed the "Sportsman" from the convenient buttress of the +teapot and substituted "Punch" when he became aware that day had turned +to night. Looking up he perceived that his open window, which was rather +small and of the casement variety, was completely blocked by a huge, +shapeless, and opaque mass. Next moment the mass resolved itself into an +animal of enormous size and surprising appearance, which fell heavily +into the room, and + + Like a stream that, spouting from a cliff, + Fails in mid-air, but, gathering at the base, + Remakes itself, + +rose to its feet and, advancing to the table, laid a heavy head on the +white cloth and lovingly passed its tongue--which resembled that of the +great anteater--round a cold chicken conveniently adjacent. + +Five minutes later the window framed another picture--this time a girl +of twenty, white-clad and wearing a powder-blue felt hat, caught up on +one side by a silver buckle which twinkled in the hot morning sun. The +curate started to his feet. Excalibur, who was now lying on the +hearthrug dismembering the chicken, thumped his tail guiltily on the +floor, but made no attempt to rise. + +"I am very sorry," said Eileen, "but I am afraid my dog is trespassing. +May I call him out?" + +"Certainly!" said the curate. "But"--he racked his brains to devise some +means of delaying the departure of this radiant, fragrant vision--"he is +not the least in the way. I am very glad of his company; it was most +neighborly of him to call. After all, I suppose he is one of my +parishioners. And--and"--he blushed--"I hope you are, too." + +Eileen gave him her most entrancing smile, and from that hour the curate +ceased to be his own master. + +"I suppose you are Mr. Gilmore," said Eileen. + +"Yes. I have been here only three weeks and I have not met every one +yet." + +"I have been away for two months," Eileen mentioned. + +"I thought you must have been," said the curate, rather subtly for him. + +"I think my brother-in-law called on you a few days ago," continued +Eileen, on whom the curate's last remark had made a most favorable +impression. She mentioned my name. + +"I was going to return the call this very afternoon," said the curate. +And he firmly believed that he was speaking the truth. "Won't you come +in? We have an excellent chaperon," indicating Excalibur. "I will come +and open the door." + +"Well, he certainly won't come out unless I come and fetch him," +admitted Eileen thoughtfully. + +A moment later the curate was at the front door and led his visitor +across the little hall into the sitting-room. He had not been absent +more than thirty seconds, but during that time a plateful of sausages +had mysteriously disappeared; and, as they entered, Excalibur was +apologetically settling down on the hearthrug with a cottage loaf +between his paws. + +Eileen uttered cries of dismay and apology, but the curate would have +none of them. + +"My fault entirely!" he insisted. "I have no right to be breakfasting at +this hour; but this is my day off. You see I take early Service every +morning at seven; but on Wednesdays we cut it out--omit it and have +full Matins at ten. So I get up at half-past nine, take Service at ten, +and come back to my rooms at eleven and have breakfast. It is my weekly +treat." + +"You deserve it," said Eileen feelingly. Her religious exercises were +limited to going to church on Sunday morning and coming out, if +possible, after the Litany. "And how do you like Much Moreham?" + +"I did not like it at all when I came," said the curate, "but recently I +have begun to enjoy myself immensely." He did not say how recently. + +"Were you in London before?" + +"Yes--in the East End. It was pretty hard work, but a useful experience. +I feel rather lost here during my spare time. I get so little exercise. +In London I used to slip away for an occasional outing in a Leander +scratch eight, and that kept me fit. I am inclined," he added ruefully, +"to put on flesh." + +"Leander? Are you a Blue?" + +The curate nodded. + +"You know about rowing, I see," he said appreciatively. "The worst of +rowing," he continued, "is that it takes up so much of a man's time that +he has no opportunity of practicing anything else--cricket, for +instance. All curates ought to be able to play cricket. I do my best; +but there isn't a single boy in the Sunday School who can't bowl me. +It's humiliating!" + +"Do you play tennis at all?" asked Eileen. + +"Yes, in a way." + +"I am sure my sister will be pleased if you come and have a game with us +some afternoon." + +The enraptured curate had already opened his mouth to accept this demure +invitation when Excalibur, rising from the hearthrug, stretched himself +luxuriously and wagged his tail, thereby removing three pipes, an +inkstand, a tobacco jar, and a half-completed sermon from the writing +table. + + + + +V + + +EXCALIBUR was heavily overworked in his new rôle of chaperon during +the next three or four weeks, and any dog less ready to oblige than +himself might have felt a little aggrieved at the treatment to which he +was subjected. + +There was the case of the tennis lawn, for instance. He had always +regarded this as his own particular sanctuary, dedicated to reflection +and repose; but now the net was stretched across it and Eileen and the +curate performed antics all over the court with rackets and small white +balls which, though they did not hurt Excalibur, kept him awake. It did +not occur to him to convey himself elsewhere, for his mind moved +slowly; and the united blandishments of the players failed to bring the +desirability of such a course home to him. He continued to lie in his +favorite spot on the sunny side of the court, looking injured but +forgiving, or slumbering perseveringly amid the storm that raged round +him. + +It was quite impossible to move Excalibur once he had decided to remain +where he was; so Eileen and the curate agreed to regard him as a sort of +artificial excrescence, like the buttress in a fives court. If the ball +hit him, as it frequently did, the player waiting for it was at liberty +either to play it or claim a let. This arrangement added a piquant and +pleasing variety to what is too often--especially when indulged in by +mediocre players--a very dull game. + +Worse was to follow, however. One day Eileen and the curate conducted +Excalibur to a neighboring mountain range--at least, so it appeared to +Excalibur--and played another ball game. This time they employed long +sticks with iron heads, and two balls, which, though they were much +smaller than tennis balls, were incredibly hard and painful. Excalibur, +though willing to help and anxious to please, could not supervise both +the balls at once. As sure as he ran to retrieve one the other came +after him and took him unfairly in the rear. Excalibur was the gentlest +of creatures, but the most perfect gentleman has his dignity to +consider. + +After having been struck for the third time by one of these balls he +whipped round, picked it up in his mouth and gave it a tiny pinch, just +as a warning. At least, he thought it was a tiny pinch. The ball +retaliated with unexpected ferocity. It twisted and turned. It emitted +long, snaky spirals of some elastic substance, which clogged his teeth +and tickled his throat and wound themselves round his tongue and nearly +choked him. Panic-stricken, he ran to his mistress, who, with weeping +and with laughter, removed the writhing horror from his jaws and +comforted him with fair words. + +After that Excalibur realized that it is wiser to walk behind golfers +than in front of them. It was a boring business, though, and very +exhausting, for he loathed exercise of every kind; and his only periods +of repose were the occasions on which the expedition came to a halt on +certain small, flat lawns, each of which contained a hole with a flag in +it. + +Here Excalibur would lie down, with the contented sigh of a tired child, +and go to sleep. As he almost invariably lay down between the hole and +the ball, the players agreed to regard him as a bunker. Eileen putted +round him; but the curate--who had little regard for the humbler works +of creation, Excalibur thought--used to take his mashie and attempt a +lofting shot, an enterprise in which he almost invariably failed, to +Excalibur's great inconvenience. + +Country walks were more tolerable, for Eileen's supervision of his +movements, which was usually marked by an officious severity, was +sensibly relaxed on these days and Excalibur found himself at liberty to +range abroad amid the heath and through the coppices, engaged in a +pastime that he imagined was hunting. + +One hot afternoon, wandering into a clearing, he encountered a hare. The +hare, which was suffering from extreme panic, owing to a terrifying +noise behind it,--the blast of the newest and most vulgar motor horn, to +be precise,--was bolting right across the clearing. After the manner of +hares where objects directly in front of them are concerned, the +fugitive entirely failed to perceive Excalibur and, indeed, ran right +underneath him on its way to cover. Excalibur was so unstrung by this +adventure that he ran back to where he had left Eileen and the curate. + +They were sitting side by side on the grass and the curate was holding +Eileen's hand. + +Excalibur advanced on them thankfully and indicated by an ingratiating +smile that a friendly remark or other recognition of his presence would +be gratefully received; but neither took the slightest notice of him. +They continued to gaze straight before them in a mournful and abstracted +fashion. They looked not so much at Excalibur as through him. First the +hare, then Eileen and the curate! Excalibur began to fear that he had +become invisible, or at least transparent. Greatly agitated he drifted +away into a neighboring plantation full of young pheasants. Here he +encountered a keeper, who was able to dissipate his gloomy suspicions +for him without any difficulty whatsoever. But Eileen and the curate sat +on. + +"A hundred pounds a year!" repeated the curate. "A pass degree and no +influence! I can't preach and I have no money of my own. Dearest, I +ought never to have told you." + +"Told me what?" inquired Eileen softly. She knew quite well; but she was +a woman, and a woman can never let well enough alone. + +The curate, turning to Eileen, delivered himself of a statement of three +words. Eileen's reply was a softly whispered _Tu quoque!_ + +"It had to happen, dear," she added cheerfully, for she did not share +the curate's burden of responsibility in the matter. "If you had not +told me we should have been miserable separately. Now that you have told +me, we can be miserable together. And when two people who--who--" She +hesitated. + +The curate supplied the relative sentence. Eileen nodded her head in +acknowledgment. + +"Yes; who are--like you and me--are miserable together, they are happy! +See?" + +"I see," said the curate gravely. "Yes, you are right there; but we +can't go on living on a diet of joint misery. We shall have to face the +future. What are we going to do about it?" + +Then Eileen spoke up boldly for the first time. + +"Gerald," she said, "we shall simply have to manage on a hundred a +year." + +But the curate shook his head. + +"Dearest, I should be an utter cad if I allowed you to do such a thing," +he said. "A hundred a year is less than two pounds a week!" + +"A lot of people live on less than two pounds a week," Eileen pointed +out longingly. + +"Yes; I know. If we could rent a three-shilling cottage and I could go +about with a spotted handkerchief round my neck, and you could scrub the +doorsteps _coram populo_, we might be very comfortable; but the clergy +belong to the black-coated class, and people in the lower ranks of the +black-coated class are the poorest people in the whole wide world. They +have to spend money on luxuries--collars and charwomen, and so +on--which a workingman can spend entirely on necessities. It wouldn't +merely mean no pretty dresses and a lot of hard work for you, Eileen. It +would mean starvation! Believe me--I know! Some of my friends have tried +it--and I know!" + +"What happened to them?" asked Eileen fearfully. + +"They all had to come down in the end--some soon, some late, but all in +time--to taking parish relief." + +"Parish relief?" + +"Yes; not official, regulation, rate-aided charity, but the infinitely +more humiliating charity of their well-to-do neighbors--quiet checks, +second-hand dresses, and things like that. No, little girl; you and I +are too proud--too proud of the cloth--for that. We will never give a +handle to the people who are always waiting to have a fling at the +improvident clergy--not if it breaks our hearts, we won't!" + +"You are quite right, dear," said Eileen quietly. "We must wait." + +Then the curate said the most difficult thing he had said yet:-- + +"I shall have to go away from here." + +Eileen's hand turned cold in his. + +"Why?" she whispered; but she knew. + +"Because if we wait here we shall wait forever. The last curate in Much +Moreham--what happened to him?" + +"He died." + +"Yes--at fifty-five; and he had been here for thirty years. Preferment +does not come in sleepy villages. I must go back to London." + +"The East End?" + +"East or south or north--it doesn't signify. Anywhere but west. In the +east and south and north there is always work to be done--hard work. And +if a parson has no money and no brains and no influence, and can only +work--run clothing clubs and soup kitchens, and reclaim +drunkards--London is the place for him. So off I go to London, my +beloved, to lay the foundations of Paradise for you and me--for you and +me!" + +There was a long silence. Then the pair rose to their feet and smiled on +each other extremely cheerfully, because each suspected the +other--rightly--of low spirits. + +"Shall we tell people?" asked the curate. + +Eileen thought, and shook her head. + +"No," she said; "nicer not. It will make a splendid secret." + +"Just between us two, eh?" said the curate, kindling at the thought. + +"Just between us two," agreed Eileen. And the curate kissed her very +solemnly. A secret is a comfortable thing to lovers, especially when +they are young and about to be lonely. + +At this moment a leonine head, supported on a lumbering and ill-balanced +body, was thrust in between them. It was Excalibur, taking sanctuary +with the Church from the vengeance of the Law. + +"We might tell Scally, I think," said Eileen. + +"Rather!" assented the curate. "He introduced us." + +So Eileen communicated the great news to Excalibur. + +"You do approve, dear--don't you?" she said. + +Excalibur, instinctively realizing that this was an occasion when +liberties might be taken, stood up on his hind legs and placed his +forepaws on his mistress's shoulders. The curate supported them both. + +"And you will use your influence to get us a living wage from +somewhere--won't you, old man?" added the curate. + +Excalibur tried to lick both their faces at once--and succeeded. + + + + +VI + + +SO the curate went away, but not to London. He was sent instead to a +great manufacturing town in the north, where the work was equally hard, +and where Anglican and Roman and Salvationist fought grimly side by side +against the powers of drink and disease and crime. During these days, +which ultimately rolled into years, the curate lost his boyish freshness +and his unfortunate tendency to put on flesh. He grew thin and lathy; +and, though his smile was as ready and as magnetic as ever, he seldom +laughed. + +He never failed, however, to write a cheerful letter to Eileen every +Monday morning. He was getting a hundred and twenty pounds a year now; +so his chances of becoming a millionaire had increased by twenty per +cent. + +Meantime his two confederates, Excalibur and Eileen, continued to reside +at Much Moreham. Eileen was still the recognized beauty of the district, +but she spread her net less promiscuously than of yore. Girl friends she +always had in plenty, but it was noticed that she avoided intimacy with +all eligible males of over twenty and under forty-five years of age. No +one knew the reason for this except Excalibur. Eileen used to read +Gerald's letters aloud to him every Tuesday morning; sometimes the +letter contained a friendly message to Excalibur himself. + +In acknowledgment of this courtesy Excalibur always sent his love to +the curate--Eileen wrote every Friday--and he and Eileen walked +together, rain or shine, on Friday afternoons to post the letter in the +next village. Much Moreham's post office was too small to remain +oblivious to such a regular correspondence. + +The curate was seen no more in his old parish. Railroad journeys are +costly things and curates' holidays rare. Besides, he had no overt +excuse for coming. And so life went on for five years. The curate and +Eileen may have met during that period, for Eileen sometimes went away +visiting. As Excalibur was not privileged to accompany her on these +occasions he had no means of checking her movements; but the chances are +that she never saw the curate, or I think she would have told Excalibur +about it. We simply have to tell some one. + +Then, quite suddenly, came a tremendous change in Excalibur's life. +Eileen's brother-in-law--he was Excalibur's master no longer, for +Excalibur had been transferred to Eileen by deed of gift, at her own +request, on her first birthday after the curate's departure--fell ill. +There was an operation and a crisis, and a deal of unhappiness at Much +Moreham; then came convalescence, followed by directions for a sea +voyage of six months. It was arranged that the house should be shut up +and the children sent to their grandmother at Bath. + +"That settles everything and everybody," said the gaunt man on the +sofa, "except you, Eileen? What about you?" + +"What about Scally?" inquired Eileen. + +Her brother-in-law apologetically admitted that he had forgotten Scally. + +"Not quite myself at present," he mentioned in extenuation. + +"I am going to Aunt Phoebe," announced Eileen. + +"You are never going to introduce Scally into Aunt Phoebe's +establishment!" cried Eileen's sister. + +"No," said Eileen, "I am not." She rubbed Excalibur's matted head +affectionately. "But I have arranged for the dear man's future. He is +going to visit friends in the north. Aren't you, darling?" + +Excalibur, to whom this arrangement had been privately communicated +some days before, wagged his tail and endeavored to look as intelligent +and knowing as possible. He was not going to put his beloved mistress to +shame by admitting to her relatives that he had not the faintest idea +what she was talking about. + +However, he was soon to understand. The next day Eileen took him up to +London by train. This in itself was a tremendous adventure, though +alarming at first. He traveled in the guard's van, it having been found +quite impossible to get him into an ordinary compartment--or, rather, to +get any one else into the compartment after he lay down on the floor. So +he traveled with the guard, chained to the vacuum brake, and shared that +kindly official's dinner. + +When they reached the terminus there was much bustle and confusion. The +door of the van was thrown open and porters dragged out the luggage and +submitted samples thereof to overheated passengers, who invariably +failed to recognize their own property and claimed someone else's. + +Finally, when the luggage was all cleared out, the guard took off +Excalibur's chain and facetiously invited him to alight for London Town. +Excalibur, lumbering delicately across the ribbed floor of the van, +arrived at the open doorway. Outside on the platform he espied Eileen. +Beside her stood a tall figure in black. + +With one tremendous roar of rapturous recognition, Excalibur leaped +straight out of the van and launched himself fairly and squarely at the +curate's chest. Luckily the curate saw him coming. + +"He knows you, all right," said Eileen with satisfaction. + +"He appears to," replied the curate. "Afraid I don't dance the tango, +Scally, old man; but thanks for the invitation, all the same!" + +Excalibur spent the rest of the day in London, where it must be admitted +he caused a genuine sensation--no mean feat in such a blasé place. + +In Bond Street the traffic had to be held up both ways by benevolent +policemen, because Excalibur, feeling pleasantly tired, lay down to +rest. + +When evening came they all dined together in a cheap little restaurant +in Soho and were very gay, with the gayety of people who are whistling +to keep their courage up. After dinner Eileen said good-bye, first to +Excalibur and then to the curate. She was much more demonstrative toward +the former than toward the latter, which is the way of women. + +Then the curate put Eileen into a taxi and, having with the aid of the +commissionaire extracted Excalibur from underneath--he had gone there +under some confused impression that it was the guard's van again--said +good-bye for the last time; and Eileen, smiling bravely, was whirled +away out of sight. + +As the taxi turned a distant corner and disappeared from view, it +suddenly occurred to Excalibur that he had been left behind. Accordingly +he set off in pursuit. + +The curate finally ran him to earth in Buckingham Palace Road, which is +a long chase from Soho, where he was sitting on the pavement, to the +grave inconvenience of the inhabitants of Pimlico, and refusing to be +comforted. It took his new master the best part of an hour to get him to +Euston Road, where it was discovered they had missed the night mail to +the north. Accordingly they walked to a rival station and took another +train. + +In all this Excalibur was the instrument of Destiny, as you shall hear. + + + + +VII + + +THE coroner's jury was inclined at the time to blame the signalman, +but the Board of Trade inquiry established the fact that the accident +was due to the engine-driver's neglect to keep a proper lookout. +However, as the driver was dead and his fireman with him, the law very +leniently took no further action in the matter. + +About three o'clock in the morning, as the train was crossing a bleak +Yorkshire moor seven miles from Tetley Junction, the curate suddenly +left the seat on which he lay stretched dreaming of Eileen and flew +across the compartment on to the recumbent form of a stout commercial +traveler. Then he rebounded to the floor and woke up--unhurt. + +"'Tis an accident, lad!" gasped the commercial traveler as he got his +wind. + +"So it seems," said the curate. "Hold tight! She's rocking!" + +The commercial traveler, who was mechanically groping under the seat for +his boots,--commercial travelers always remove their boots in +third-class railroad compartments when on night journeys,--followed the +curate's advice and braced himself with his feet against the opposite +seat for the coming _bouleversement_. + +After the first shock the train had gathered way again--the light engine +into which it had charged had been thrown clear off the track--but only +for a moment. Suddenly the reeling engine of the express left the rails +and staggered drunkenly along the ballast. A moment later it turned +over, taking the guard's van and the first four coaches with it, and the +whole train came to a standstill. + +It was a corridor train, and unfortunately for Gerald Gilmore and the +commercial traveler their coach fell over corridor side downward. There +was no door on the other side of the compartment--only three windows, +crossed by a stout brass bar. These windows had suddenly become +sky-lights. + +They fought their way out at last. Once he got the window open, the +curate experienced little difficulty in getting through; but the +commercial traveler was corpulent and tenacious of his boots, which he +held persistently in one hand while Gerald tugged at the other. Still, +he was hauled up at last, and the two slid down the perpendicular roof +of the coach to the permanent way. + +"That's done, anyway!" panted the drummer; and sitting down he began to +put on his boots. + +"There's plenty more to do," said the curate grimly, pulling off his +coat. "The front of the train is on fire. Come!" + +He turned and ran. Almost at his first step he cannoned into a heavy +body in rapid motion. It was Excalibur. + +"That you, old friend?" observed the curate. "I was on my way to see +about you. Now that you are out, you may as well come and bear a hand." + +The pair sprinted along the line toward the blazing coaches. + + * * * * * + +It was dawn--gray, weeping, and cheerless--on Tetley Moor. Another +engine had come up from behind to take what was left of the train back +to the Junction. Seven coaches, including the lordly sleeping saloon, +stood intact; four, with the engine and tender, lay where they had +fallen, a mass of charred wood and twisted metal. + +A motor car belonging to a doctor stood in the roadway a hundred yards +off, and its owner, with a brother of the craft who had been a passenger +on the train, was attending to the injured. There were fourteen of these +altogether, mostly suffering from burns. These were made as comfortable +as possible in sleeping berths their owners had vacated. + +"Take your seats, please!" said the surviving guard in a subdued voice. +He spoke at the direction of a big man in a heavy overcoat, who appeared +to have taken charge of the salvage operations. The passengers clambered +up into the train. + +Only one hesitated. He was a long, lean young man, black from head to +foot with soot and oil. His left arm was badly burned; and seeing a +doctor disengaged at last, he came forward to have it dressed. + +The big man in the heavy overcoat approached him. + +"My name is Caversham," he said. "I happen to be a director of the +company. If you will give me your name and address I will see to it +that your services to-night are suitably recognized. The way you got +those two children out of the first coach was splendid, if I may be +allowed to say so. We did not even know they were there." + +The young man's teeth suddenly flashed out into a white smile against +the blackness of his face. + +"Neither did I, sir," he said. "Let me introduce you to the responsible +party." + +He whistled. Out of the gray dawn loomed an eerie monster, badly singed, +wagging its tail. + +"Scally, old man," said the curate, "this gentleman wants to present you +with an illuminated address. Thank him prettily!" Then, to the doctor: +"I'm ever so much obliged to you; it's quite comfortable now." + +He began stiffly to pull on his coat and waistcoat. Lord Caversham, +lending a hand, noted the waistcoat and said quickly:-- + +"Will you travel in my compartment? I should like to have a word with +you if I may." + +"I think I had better go and have a look at those poor folks in the +sleeper first," replied the curate. "They may require my services +professionally." + +"At the Junction, then, perhaps?" suggested Lord Caversham. + +At the Junction, however, the curate found a special waiting to proceed +north by a loop line; and, being in no mind to receive compliments or +waste his substance on a hotel, he departed forthwith, taking his +charred confederate, Excalibur, with him. + + + + +VIII + + +Fortune, once she takes a fancy to you, is not readily shaken off, +however, as most successful men are always trying to forget. A fortnight +later Lord Caversham, leaving his hotel in a great northern town, +encountered an acquaintance he had no difficulty whatever in +recognizing. + +It was Excalibur, jammed fast between two stationary tramcars--he had +not yet shaken down to town life--submitting to a painful but effective +process of extraction at the hands of a posse of policemen and tram +conductors, shrilly directed by a small but commanding girl of the +lodging-house-drudge variety. + +When this enterprise had been brought to a successful conclusion and +the congested traffic moved on by the overheated policemen, Lord +Caversham crossed the street and tapped the damsel on the shoulder. + +"Can you kindly inform me where the owner of that dog may be found?" he +inquired politely. + +"Yas. Se'nty-one Pilgrim Street. But 'e won't sell him." + +"Should I be likely to find him at home if I called now?" + +"Yas. Bin in bed since the accident. Got a nasty arm." + +"Perhaps you would not mind accompanying me back to Pilgrim Street in my +car?" + +After that Mary Ellen's mind became an incoherent blur. A stately +limousine glided up; Mary Ellen was handed in by a footman and +Excalibur was stuffed in after her in installments. The grand gentleman +entered by the opposite door and sat down beside her; but Mary Ellen was +much too dazed to converse with him. + +The arrival of the equipage in Pilgrim Street was the greatest moment of +Mary Ellen's life. + +Meantime upstairs in the first-floor front the curate, lying in his +uncomfortable flock bed, was saying:-- + +"If you really mean it, sir--" + +"I do mean it. If those two children had been burned to death unnoticed +I should never have forgiven myself, and the public would never have +forgiven the company." + +"Well, sir, since you say that, you--well, you could do me a service. +Could you possibly use your influence to get me a billet--I'm not +asking for an incumbency; any old curacy would do--a billet I could +marry on?" He flushed scarlet. "I--we have been waiting a long time +now." + +There was a long silence, and the curate wondered whether he had been +too mercenary in his request. Then Lord Caversham asked:-- + +"What are you getting at present?" + +"A hundred and twenty a year." + +This was about two thirds of the salary Lord Caversham paid his +chauffeur. He asked another question in his curious, abrupt staccato +manner:-- + +"How much do you want?" + +"We could make both ends meet on two hundred; but another fifty would +enable me to make her a lot more comfortable," said the curate +wistfully. + +The great man surveyed him silently--wonderingly, too, if the curate had +known. Presently he asked: + +"Afraid of hard work?" + +"No work is hard to a man with a wife and a home of his own," replied +the curate with simple fervor. + +Lord Caversham smiled grimly. He had more homes of his own than he could +conveniently live in, and he had been married three times; but even he +found work hard now and then. + +"I wonder!" he said. "Well, good-afternoon. I should like to be +introduced to your fiancée some day." + + + + +IX + + +A TRAMP opened the rectory gate and shambled up the neat gravel walk +toward the house. Taking a short cut through the shrubbery he emerged +suddenly on a little lawn. + +On the lawn a lady was sitting in a basket chair beside a perambulator, +the occupant of which was slumbering peacefully. A small but intensely +capable nursemaid, prone on the grass in a curvilinear attitude, was +acting as tunnel to a young gentleman of three who was impersonating a +locomotive. + +The tramp approached the group and asked huskily for alms. He was a +burly and unpleasant specimen of his class--a class all too numerous on +the outskirts of the great industrial parish of Smeltingborough. The +lady in the basket chair looked up. + +"The rector is out," she said. "If you go into the town you will find +him at the Church Hall and he will investigate your case." + +"Oh, the rector is out, is he?" repeated the tramp in tones of distinct +satisfaction. + +"Yes," said Eileen. + +The tramp advanced another pace. + +"Give us half a crown!" he said. "I haven't had a bite of food since +yesterday, lady--nor a drink neither," he added humorously. + +"Please go away!" said the lady. "You know where to find the rector." + +The tramp smiled unpleasantly, but made no attempt to move. + +"You refuse to go away?" the lady said. + +"I'll go for half a crown," replied the tramp with the gracious air of +one anxious to oblige a lady. + +"Watch baby for a moment, Mary Ellen," said Eileen. + +She rose and disappeared into the house, followed by the gratified smile +of the tramp. He was a reasonable man and knew that ladies did not wear +pockets. + +"Thirsty weather," he remarked affably. + +Mary Ellen, keeping one hand on the shoulder of Master Gerald Caversham +Gilmore and the other on the edge of the baby's perambulator, merely +chuckled sardonically. + +The next moment there were footsteps round the corner of the house and +Eileen reappeared. She was clinging with both hands to the collar of an +enormous dog. Its tongue lolled from its great jaws; its tail waved +menacingly from side to side; its great limbs were bent as though for a +spring. Its eyes were half closed as though to focus the exact distance. + +"Run!" cried Eileen to the tramp. "I can't hold him in much longer!" + +This was true enough, except that when Eileen said "in" she meant "up." +But the tramp did not linger to discuss grammar. There was a scurry of +feet, the gate banged and he was gone. + +With a sigh of relief Eileen let go of Excalibur's collar. Excalibur +promptly collapsed on the grass and went to sleep again. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCALLY*** + + +******* This file should be named 28495-8.txt or 28495-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/4/9/28495 + + + +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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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Scally</p> +<p> The Story of a Perfect Gentleman</p> +<p>Author: Ian Hay</p> +<p>Release Date: April 4, 2009 [eBook #28495]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCALLY***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 299px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="299" height="500" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='bbox'> +<h3>By Ian Hay</h3> + + +<div class='center'>——————</div> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Books by Hay"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="hang1">SCALLY: THE STORY OF A PERFECT GENTLEMAN. With Frontispiece.</div></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="hang1">A KNIGHT ON WHEELS.</div></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="hang1">HAPPY-GO-LUCKY. Illustrated by Charles E. Brock.</div></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="hang1">A SAFETY MATCH. With frontispiece.</div></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="hang1">A MAN'S MAN. With frontispiece.</div></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="hang1">THE RIGHT STUFF. With frontispiece.</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='copyright'><br /> +HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY<br /> +<span class="smcap">Boston and New York</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="360" height="500" alt="THE LEADING OBJECT PROVED TO BE A SMALL, WET, SHIVERING, WHIMPERING PUPPY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE LEADING OBJECT PROVED TO BE A SMALL, WET, SHIVERING, WHIMPERING PUPPY</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>SCALLY</h1> + +<h2>THE STORY OF A PERFECT<br /> +GENTLEMAN</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By IAN HAY</span><br /><br /><br /></h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 72px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.jpg" width="72" height="100" alt="Emblem" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /> +<small>BOSTON AND NEW YORK</small><br /> +HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY<br /> +<small>MDCCCCXV</small><br /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='copyright'> +COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY<br /> +COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY IAN HAY BEITH<br /> +<br /> +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED<br /> +<br /> +<i>Published November 1915</i><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + +<h2>SCALLY</h2> + +<h3>THE STORY OF A PERFECT +GENTLEMAN</h3> + + + + +<h2>I</h2> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Bettersea</span> trem? Right, miss!" +My wife, who has been married long +enough to feel deeply gratified at +being mistaken for a maiden lady, +smiled seraphically at the conductor, +and allowed herself to be hoisted up +the steps of the majestic vehicle provided +by a paternal county council to +convey passengers—at a loss to the +ratepayers, I understand—from the +Embankment to Battersea.</p> + +<p>Presently we ground our way +round a curve and began to cross +Westminster Bridge. The conductor,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +whose innate cockney bonhomie his +high official position had failed to +eradicate, presented himself before us +and collected our fares.</p> + +<p>"What part of Bettersea did you +require, sir?" he asked of me.</p> + +<p>I coughed and answered evasively:—</p> + +<p>"Oh, about the middle."</p> + +<p>"We haven't been there before," +added my wife, quite gratuitously.</p> + +<p>The conductor smiled indulgently +and punched our tickets.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you when to get down," +he said, and left us.</p> + +<p>For some months we had been considering +the question of buying a dog, +and a good deal of our spare time—or +perhaps I should say of my spare +time, for a woman's time is naturally +all her own—had been pleasantly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +occupied in discussing the matter. +Having at length committed ourselves +to the purchase of the animal, +we proceeded to consider such details +as breed, sex, and age.</p> + +<p>My wife vacillated between a +bloodhound, because bloodhounds +are so aristocratic in appearance, and +a Pekinese, because they are <i>dernier +cri</i>. We like to be <i>dernier cri</i> even in +Much Moreham. Her younger sister, +Eileen, who spends a good deal of +time with us, having no parents of her +own, suggested an Old English sheep +dog, explaining that it would be company +for my wife when I was away +from home. I coldly recommended a +mastiff.</p> + +<p>Our son John, aged three, on being +consulted, expressed a preference for +twelve tigers in a box, and was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +again invited to participate in the +debate.</p> + +<p>Finally we decided on an Aberdeen +terrier, of an age and sex to be settled +by circumstances, and I was instructed +to communicate with a gentleman +in the North who advertised +in our morning paper that Aberdeen +terriers were his specialty. In due +course we received a reply. The advertiser +recommended two animals—namely, +Celtic Chief, aged four +months, and Scotia's Pride, aged one +year. Pedigrees were inclosed, each +about as complicated as the family +tree of the House of Hapsburg; and +the favor of an early reply was requested, +as both dogs were being +hotly bid for by an anonymous client +in Constantinople.</p> + +<p>The price of Celtic Chief was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +twenty guineas; that of Scotia's +Pride, for reasons heavily underlined +in the pedigree, was twenty-seven. +The advertiser, who resided in Aberdeen, +added that these prices did not +cover cost of carriage. We decided +not to stand in the way of the gentleman +in Constantinople, and having +sent back the pedigrees by return of +post, resumed the debate.</p> + +<p>Finally Stella, my wife, said:—</p> + +<p>"We don't really want a dog with +a pedigree. We only want something +that will bark at beggars and be gentle +with baby. Why not go to the +Home for Lost Dogs at Battersea? I +believe you can get any dog you like +there for five shillings. We will run +up to town next Wednesday and see +about it—and I might get some +clothes as well."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<p>Hence our presence on the tram.</p> + +<p>Presently the conductor, who had +kindly pointed out to us such objects +of local interest as the River +Thames and the Houses of Parliament, +stopped the tram in a crowded +thoroughfare and announced that +we were in Battersea.</p> + +<p>"Alight here," he announced facetiously, +"for 'Ome for Lost Dawgs!"</p> + +<p>Guiltily realizing that there is many +a true word spoken in jest, we obeyed +him, and the tram went rocking and +whizzing out of sight. We had +eschewed a cab.</p> + +<p>"When you are only going to pay +five shillings for a dog," my wife had +pointed out, with convincing logic, +"it is silly to go and pay perhaps another +five shillings for a cab. It +doubles the price of the dog at once.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +If we had been buying an expensive +dog we might have taken a cab; but +not for a five-shilling one."</p> + +<p>"Now," I inquired briskly, "how +are we going to find this place?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't you any idea where it +is?"</p> + +<p>"No. I have a sort of vague notion +that it is on an island in the middle +of the river, called the Isle of Dogs, +or Barking Reach, or something like +that. However, I have no doubt—"</p> + +<p>"Hadn't we better ask some one?" +suggested Stella.</p> + +<p>I demurred.</p> + +<p>"If there is one thing I dislike," I +said, "it is accosting total strangers +and badgering them for information +they don't possess—not that that +will prevent them from giving it. If +we start asking the way we shall find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +ourselves in Putney or Woolwich in +no time!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," said Stella soothingly.</p> + +<p>"Now I suggest—" My hand +went to my pocket.</p> + +<p>"No, darling," interposed my wife, +hastily; "not a map, please!" It is a +curious psychological fact that women +have a constitutional aversion to +maps and railroad time-tables. They +would rather consult a half-witted +errand boy or a deaf railroad porter. +"Do not let us make a spectacle of +ourselves in the public streets again! +I have not yet forgotten the day when +you tried to find the Crystal Palace. +Besides, it will only blow away. Ask +that dear little boy there. He is looking +at us so wistfully."</p> + +<p>Yes; I admit it was criminal folly. +A man who asks a London street boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +to be so kind as to direct him to a +Home for Lost Dogs has only himself +to thank for the consequence.</p> + +<p>The wistful little boy smiled up at +us. He had a pinched face and large +eyes.</p> + +<p>"Lost Dogs' 'Ome, sir?" he said +courteously. "It's a good long way. +Do you want to get there quick?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then if I was you, sir," replied +the infant, edging to the mouth of an +alleyway, "I should bite a policeman!" +And, with an ear-splitting +yell, he vanished.</p> + +<p>We walked on, hot-faced.</p> + +<p>"Little wretch!" said Stella.</p> + +<p>"We simply asked for it," I rejoined. +"What are we going to do +next?"</p> + +<p>My question was answered in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +most incredible fashion, for at this +moment a man emerged from a shop +on our right and set off down the +street before us. He wore a species of +uniform; and emblazoned on the +front of his hat was the information +that he was an official of the Battersea +Home for Lost and Starving +Dogs.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute and I will ask +him," I said, starting forward.</p> + +<p>But my wife would not hear of it.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," she replied. "If +we ask him he will simply offer to +show us the way. Then we shall have +to talk to him—about hydrophobia, +and lethal chambers, and distemper—and +it may be for miles. I simply +couldn't bear it! We shall have to +tip him, too. Let us follow him +quietly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<p>To those who have never attempted +to track a fellow creature surreptitiously +through the streets of +London on a hot day, the feat may +appear simple. It is in reality a most +exhausting, dilatory, and humiliating +exercise. Our difficulty lay not so +much in keeping our friend in sight +as in avoiding frequent and unexpected +collisions with him. The +general idea, as they say on field +days, was to keep about twenty +yards behind him; but under certain +circumstances distance has an uncanny +habit of annihilating itself. +The man himself was no hustler. +Once or twice he stopped to light +his pipe or converse with a friend.</p> + +<p>During these interludes Stella and +I loafed guiltily on the pavement, +pointing out to one another objects<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +of local interest with the fatuous +officiousness of people in the foreground +of hotel advertisements. Occasionally +he paused to contemplate +the contents of a shop window. We +gazed industriously into the window +next door. Our first window, I recollect, +was an undertaker's, with ready-printed +expressions of grief for sale +on white porcelain disks. We had +time to read them all. The next was +a butcher's. Here we stayed, perforce, +so long that the proprietor, +who was of the tribe that disposes of +its wares almost entirely by personal +canvass, came out into the street +and endeavored to sell us a bullock's +heart.</p> + +<p>Our quarry's next proceeding was +to dive into a public house. We +turned and surveyed one another.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What are we to do now?" inquired +my wife.</p> + +<p>"Go inside, too," I replied with +more enthusiasm than I had hitherto +displayed. "At least, I think I ought +to. You can please yourself."</p> + +<p>"I will not be left in the street," +said Stella firmly. "We must just +wait here together until he comes out."</p> + +<p>"There may be another exit," I +objected. "We had better go in. I +shall take something, just to keep up +appearances; and you must sit down +in the ladies' bar, or the snug, or +whatever they call it."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" said Stella.</p> + +<p>We had arrived at this <i>impasse</i> +when the man suddenly reappeared, +wiping his mouth. Instantly and silently +we fell in behind him.</p> + +<p>For the first time the man appeared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +to notice our presence. He +regarded us curiously, with a faint +gleam of recognition in his eyes, and +then set off down the street at a good +pace. We followed, panting. Once or +twice he looked back over his shoulder +a little apprehensively, I thought. +But we ploughed on.</p> + +<p>"We ought to get there soon at +this pace," I gasped. "Hello! He's +gone again!"</p> + +<p>"He turned down to the right," +said Stella excitedly.</p> + +<p>The lust of the chase was fairly on +us now. We swung eagerly round +the corner into a quiet by-street. +Our man was nowhere to be seen and +the street was almost empty.</p> + +<p>"Come on!" said Stella. "He may +have turned in somewhere."</p> + +<p>We hurried down the street. Suddenly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +warned by a newly awakened +and primitive instinct, I looked back. +We had overrun our quarry. He had +just emerged from some hiding place +and was heading back toward the +main street, looking fearfully over his +shoulder. Once more we were in full +cry.</p> + +<p>For the next five minutes we practically +ran—all three of us. The +man was obviously frightened out of +his wits, and kept making frenzied +and spasmodic spurts, from which we +surmised that he was getting to the +end of his powers of endurance.</p> + +<p>"If only we could overtake him," +I said, hauling my exhausted spouse +along by the arm, "we could explain +that—"</p> + +<p>"He's gone again!" exclaimed +Stella.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was right. The man had turned +another corner. We followed him +round hotfoot, and found ourselves +in a prim little <i>cul-de-sac</i>, with villas +on each side. Across the end of the +street ran a high wall, obviously +screening a railroad track.</p> + +<p>"We've got him!" I exclaimed.</p> + +<p>I felt as Moltke must have felt +when he closed the circle at Sedan.</p> + +<p>"But where is the Dogs' Home, +dear?" inquired Stella.</p> + +<p>The question was never answered, +for at this moment the man ran up +the steps of the fourth villa on the +left and slipped a latchkey into the +lock. The door closed behind him +with a venomous snap and we were +left alone in the street, guideless and +dogless.</p> + +<p>A minute later the man appeared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +at the ground-floor window, accompanied +by a female of commanding +appearance. He pointed us out to +her. Behind them we could dimly +descry a white tablecloth, a tea cozy +and covered dishes.</p> + +<p>The commanding female, after a +prolonged and withering glare, +plucked a hairpin from her head and +ostentatiously proceeded to skewer +together the starchy white curtains +that framed the window. Privacy +secured and the sanctity of the English +home thus pointedly vindicated, +she and her husband disappeared +into the murky background, where +they doubtless sat down to an excellent +high tea. Exhausted and discomfited, +we drifted away.</p> + +<p>"I am going home," said Stella in +a hollow voice. "And I think," she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +added bitterly, "that it might have +occurred to you to suggest that the +creature might possibly be going +from the Dogs' Home and not to it."</p> + +<p>I apologized. It is the simplest +plan, really.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was almost dark when the train +arrived at our little country station. +We set out to walk home by the short +cut across the golf course.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, we have saved five shillings," +remarked Stella.</p> + +<p>"We paid half a crown for that taxi +which took us back to Victoria Station," +I reminded her.</p> + +<p>"Do not argue to-night, darling," +responded my wife. "I simply cannot +endure anything more."</p> + +<p>Plainly she was a little unstrung. +Very considerately, I selected another +topic.</p> + +<p>"I think our best plan," I said +cheerfully, "would be to advertise +for a dog."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I never wish to see a dog again," +replied Stella.</p> + +<p>I surveyed her with some concern +and said gently:—</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you are tired, dear."</p> + +<p>"No; I'm not."</p> + +<p>"A little shaken, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the kind. Joe, what +is that?"</p> + +<p>Stella's fingers bit deep into my +biceps muscle, causing me considerable +pain. We were passing a small +sheet of water which guards the thirteenth +green on the golf course. It is +a stagnant and unclean pool, but we +make rather a fuss of it. We call it +the pond; and if you play a ball into +it you send a blasphemous caddie in +after it and count one stroke.</p> + +<p>A young moon was struggling up +over the trees, dismally illuminating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +the scene. On the slimy shores of the +pond we beheld a small moving object.</p> + +<p>A yard behind it was another object, +a little smaller, moving at exactly +the same pace. One of the objects +was emitting sounds of distress.</p> + +<p>Abandoning my quaking consort +I advanced to the edge of the pond +and leaned down to investigate the +mystery.</p> + +<p>The leading object proved to be +a small, wet, shivering, whimpering +puppy. The satellite was a brick. +The two were connected by a string. +The puppy had just emerged from +the depths of the pond, towing the +brick behind it.</p> + +<p>"What is it, dear?" repeated Stella +fearfully.</p> + +<p>"Your dog!" I replied, and cut the +string.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> spent three days deciding on a +name for him. Stella suggested Tiny, +on account of his size. I pointed out +that time might stultify this selection +of a title.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said Eileen, +supporting her sister. "That kind of +dog does not grow very big."</p> + +<p>"What kind of dog is he?" I inquired +swiftly.</p> + +<p>Eileen said no more. There are +problems that even girls of twenty +cannot solve.</p> + +<p>A warm bath had revealed to us +the fact that the puppy was of a +dingy yellow hue. I suggested that +we should call him Mustard. Our +son John, on being consulted—against<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +my advice—by his mother, +addressed the animal as Pussy. Stella +continued to favor Tiny. Finally +Eileen, who was at the romantic age, +produced a copy of Tennyson and +suggested Excalibur, alleging in support +of her preposterous proposition +that</p> + +<div class='center'>It rose from out the bosom of the lake.<br /> +</div> + +<p>"The darling rose from out the +bosom of the lake, too, just like the +sword Excalibur," she said; "so I +think it would make a lovely name +for him."</p> + +<p>"The little brute waded out of a +muddy pond towing a brick," I replied. +"I see no parallel. He was not +the product of the pond. Some one +must have thrown him in, and he +came out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is just what some one must +have done with the sword," retorted +Eileen. "So we'll call you Excalibur, +won't we, darling little Scally?"</p> + +<p>She embraced the puppy warmly +and the unsuspecting animal replied +by frantically licking her face.</p> + +<p>However, the name stuck, with +variations. When the puppy was big +enough he was presented with a collar, +engraved with the name Excalibur, +together with my name and +address. Among ourselves we usually +addressed him as Scally. The children +in the village called him the +Scalawag.</p> + +<p>His time during his first year in our +household was fully occupied in growing +up. Stella declared that if one +could have persuaded him to stand +still for five minutes it would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +been actually possible to see him +grow. He grew at the rate of about +an inch a week for the best part of a +year. When he had finished he looked +like nothing on earth. At one time +we cherished a brief but illusory hope +that he was going to turn into some +sort of an imitation of a St. Bernard; +but the symptoms rapidly passed off, +and his final and permanent aspect +was that of a rather badly stuffed +lion.</p> + +<p>Like most overgrown creatures he +was top-heavy and lethargic and +very humble-minded. Still, there +was a kind of respectful pertinacity +about him. It requires some strength +of character, for instance, to wade +along the bottom of a pond to dry +land, accompanied by a brick as big +as yourself. It was quite impossible,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +too, short of locking him up, to prevent +him from accompanying us +when we took our walks abroad, if +he had made up his mind to do so.</p> + +<p>The first time this happened I was +going to shoot with my neighbors, +the Hoods. It was only a mile to the +first covert and I set off after breakfast +to walk. I was hardly out on the +road when Excalibur was beside me, +ambling uncertainly on his weedy +legs and smiling up into my face with +an air of imbecile affection.</p> + +<p>"You have many qualities, old +friend," I said, "but I don't think +you are a sporting dog. Go home!"</p> + +<p>Excalibur sat down on the road +with a dejected air. Then, having +given me fifty yards start, he rose +and crawled sheepishly after me. I +stopped, called him up, pointed him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +with some difficulty in the required +direction, gave him a resounding +spank and bade him begone. He +responded by collapsing like a camp +bedstead, and I left him.</p> + +<p>Two minutes later I looked round. +Excalibur was ten yards behind me, +propelling himself along on his stomach. +This time I thrashed him severely. +After he began to howl I let +him go, and he lumbered away homeward, +the picture of misery.</p> + +<p>In due course I reached the crossroads +where I had arranged to meet +the rest of the party. They had not +arrived, but Excalibur had. He had +made a détour and headed me off. +Not certain which route I would take +after reaching the crossroads, he was +sitting very sensibly under the signpost, +awaiting my arrival. On seeing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +me he immediately came forward, +wagging his tail, and placed himself +at my feet in the position most convenient +to me for inflicting chastisement.</p> + +<p>I wonder how many of our human +friends would be willing to pay such a +price for the pleasure of our company.</p> + +<p>As time went on Excalibur filled +out into one of the most terrifying +spectacles I have ever beheld. In +one respect, though, he lived up to +his knightly name. His manners were +of the most courtly description and +he had an affectionate greeting for +all, beggars included. He was particularly +fond of children. If he saw +children in the distance he would +canter up and offer to play with them. +If the children had not met him before +they would run shrieking to their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +nurses. If they had they would fall +on Excalibur in a body and roll him +over and pull him about.</p> + +<p>On wet afternoons, in the nursery, +my own family used to play at dentist +with him, assigning to Excalibur +the rôle of patient. Gas was administered +with a bicycle pump, and a +shoehorn and buttonhook were employed +in place of the ordinary instruments +of torture; but Excalibur did +not mind. He lay on his back on the +hearth rug, with the principal dentist +sitting astride his ribs, as happy as a +king.</p> + +<p>He was particularly attracted by +babies; and being able by reason of +his stature to look right down into +perambulators, he was accustomed +whenever he met one of those vehicles +to amble alongside and peer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +inquiringly into the face of its occupant. +Most of the babies in the district +got to know him in time, but +until they did we had a good deal of +correspondence to attend to on the +subject.</p> + +<p>Excalibur's intellect may have +been lofty, but his memory was +treacherous. Our household will never +forget the day on which he was +given the shoulder of mutton.</p> + +<p>One morning after breakfast Eileen, +accompanied by Excalibur, intercepted +the kitchen maid hastening +in the direction of the potting shed, +carrying the joint in question at +arm's length. The damsel explained +that its premature maturity was due +to the recent warm weather and that +she was even now in search of the +gardener's boy, who would be commissioned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +to perform the duties of +sexton.</p> + +<p>"It seems a waste, miss," observed +the kitchen maid; "but cook says it +can't be ate nohow now."</p> + +<p>Loud but respectful snuffings from +Excalibur moved a direct negative to +this statement. Eileen and the kitchen +maid, who were both criminally +weak where Excalibur was concerned, +saw a way to gratify their economical +instincts and their natural affection +simultaneously. The next moment +Excalibur was lurching contentedly +down the gravel path with a presentation +shoulder of mutton in his +mouth.</p> + +<p>Then Joy Day began. Excalibur +took his prize into the middle of the +tennis lawn. It was a very large +shoulder of mutton, but Excalibur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +finished it in ten minutes. After that, +distended to his utmost limits, he +went to sleep in the sun, with the +bone between his paws. Occasionally +he woke up and, raising his head, +stared solemnly into space, in the +attitude of a Trafalgar Square lion.</p> + +<p>The bone now lay white and gleaming +on the grass beside him. Then he +fell asleep again. About four o'clock +he roused himself and began to look +for a suitable place of interment for +the bone. By four-thirty the deed +was done and he went to sleep once +more. At five he woke up and pandemonium began. +He could not remember +where he had buried the bone!</p> + +<p>He started systematically with the +rose beds, but met with no success. +After that he tried two or three +shrubberies without avail, and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +embarked on a frantic but thorough +excavation of the tennis lawn. We +were taking tea on the lawn at the +time, and our attention was first +drawn to Excalibur's bereavement by +a temporary but unshakable conviction +on his part that the bone was +buried immediately underneath the +tea table.</p> + +<p>As the tennis lawn was fast beginning +to resemble a golf course we +locked Excalibur up in the washhouse, +where his hyena-like howls +rent the air for the rest of the evening, +penetrating even to the dining-room. +This was particularly unfortunate, +because we were having a dinner +party in honor of a neighbor who +had recently come to the district, no +less a personage, in fact, than the +new lord-lieutenant of the county and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +his lady. Stella was naturally anxious +that there should be no embarrassments +on such an occasion, and +it distressed her to think that these +people should imagine that we kept +a private torture chamber on the +premises.</p> + +<p>However, dinner passed off quite +successfully and we adjourned to the +drawing-room. It was a chilly September +evening and Lady Wickham +was accommodated with a seat by +the fire in a large armchair, with a +cushion at her back. When the gentlemen +came in Eileen sang to us. +Fortunately the drawing-room is out +of range of the washhouse.</p> + +<p>During Eileen's first song I sat by +Lady Wickham. Her expression was +one of patrician calm and well-bred +repose, but it seemed to me she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +not looking quite comfortable. I +was not feeling quite comfortable +myself. The atmosphere seemed a +trifle oppressive: perhaps we had +done wrong in having a fire after all. +Lady Wickham appeared to notice +it too. She sat very upright, fanning +herself mechanically, and seemed disinclined +to lean back in her chair.</p> + +<p>After the song was finished I said:</p> + +<p>"I am afraid you are not quite +comfortable, Lady Wickham. Let +me get you a larger cushion."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Lady Wickham, +"the cushion I have is delightfully +comfortable; but I think there +is something hard behind it."</p> + +<p>Apologetically I plucked away the +cushion. Lady Wickham was right; +there was something behind it.</p> + +<p>It was Excalibur's bone!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">A walk</span> along the village street was +always a great event for Excalibur. +Still, it must have contained many +humiliating moments for one of his +sensitive disposition; for he was always +pathetically anxious to make +friends with other dogs, but was +rarely successful. Little dogs merely +bit his legs and big dogs cut him dead.</p> + +<p>I think this was why he usually +commenced his morning round by +calling on a rabbit. The rabbit lived +in a hutch in a yard at the end of +a passage between two cottages, the +first turning on the right after you +entered the village, and Excalibur always +dived down this at the earliest +opportunity. It was no use for Eileen,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +who usually took him out on +these occasions, to endeavor to hold +him back. Either Excalibur called +on the rabbit by himself or Eileen +went with him; there was no other +alternative.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the hutch, Excalibur +wagged his tail and contemplated +the rabbit with his usual air of vacuous +benevolence. The rabbit made +not the faintest response, but continued +to munch green feed, twitching +its nose in a superior manner. +Finally, when it could endure Excalibur's +admiring inspection and +hard breathing no longer, it turned +its back and retired into its bedroom.</p> + +<p>Excalibur's next call was usually at +the butcher's shop, where he was +presented with a specially selected +and quite unsalable fragment of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +meat. He then crossed the road to +the baker's, where he purchased a +halfpenny bun, for which his escort +was expected to pay. After that he +walked from shop to shop, wherever +he was taken, with great docility and +enjoyment; for he was a gregarious +animal and had a friend behind or +underneath almost every counter in +the village. Men, women, babies, +kittens, even ducks—they were all +one to him.</p> + +<p>At one time Eileen had endeavored +to teach him a few simple accomplishments, +such as begging for food, +dying for his country, and carrying +parcels. She was unsuccessful in all +three instances. Excalibur on his +hind legs stood about five feet six, +and when he fell from that eminence, +as he invariably did when he tried to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +beg, he usually broke something. He +was hampered, too, by inability to +distinguish one order from another. +More than once he narrowly escaped +with his life through mistaking +an urgent appeal to come to heel out +of the way of an approaching automobile +for a command to die for his +country in the middle of the road.</p> + +<p>As for educating him to carry parcels, +a single attempt was sufficient. +The parcel in question contained a +miscellaneous assortment of articles +from the grocer's, including lard, soap, +and safety matches. It was securely +tied up, and the grocer kindly attached +it by a short length of string +to a wooden clothespin, in order to +make it easier for Excalibur to carry. +They set off home.</p> + +<p>Excalibur was most apologetic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +about it afterward, besides being extremely +unwell; but he had no idea, +he explained to Eileen, that anything +put into his mouth was not meant +to be eaten. He then tendered the +clothespin and some mangled brown +paper, with an air of profound abasement. +After that no further attempts +at compulsory education were undertaken.</p> + +<p>It was his daily walk with Eileen, +however, which introduced Excalibur +to life—life in its broadest and most +romantic sense. As I was not privileged +to be present at the opening +incident of this episode, or at most +of its subsequent developments, the +direct conduct of this narrative here +passes out of my hands.</p> + +<p>One sunny morning in July a young +man in clerical attire sat breakfasting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +in his rooms at Mrs. Tice's. Mrs. +Tice's establishment was situated on +the village street and Mrs. Tice was +in the habit of letting her ground +floor to lodgers of impeccable respectability.</p> + +<p>It was half-past eleven, which is a +late hour for the clergy to breakfast; +but this young man appeared to be +suffering from no qualms of conscience +on the subject. He was making +an excellent breakfast and reading +the Henley results with a mixture +of rapture and longing.</p> + +<p>He had just removed the "Sportsman" +from the convenient buttress of +the teapot and substituted "Punch" +when he became aware that day had +turned to night. Looking up he perceived +that his open window, which +was rather small and of the casement<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +variety, was completely blocked by +a huge, shapeless, and opaque mass. +Next moment the mass resolved itself +into an animal of enormous size +and surprising appearance, which +fell heavily into the room, and</p> + +<div class='poem'> +Like a stream that, spouting from a cliff,<br /> +Fails in mid-air, but, gathering at the base,<br /> +Remakes itself,<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>rose to its feet and, advancing to the +table, laid a heavy head on the white +cloth and lovingly passed its tongue—which +resembled that of the great +anteater—round a cold chicken conveniently +adjacent.</div> + +<p>Five minutes later the window +framed another picture—this time +a girl of twenty, white-clad and wearing +a powder-blue felt hat, caught up +on one side by a silver buckle which +twinkled in the hot morning sun.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +The curate started to his feet. Excalibur, +who was now lying on the +hearthrug dismembering the chicken, +thumped his tail guiltily on the floor, +but made no attempt to rise.</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry," said Eileen, +"but I am afraid my dog is trespassing. +May I call him out?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" said the curate. +"But"—he racked his brains to +devise some means of delaying the +departure of this radiant, fragrant +vision—"he is not the least in the +way. I am very glad of his company; +it was most neighborly of him to call. +After all, I suppose he is one of +my parishioners. And—and"—he +blushed—"I hope you are, too."</p> + +<p>Eileen gave him her most entrancing +smile, and from that hour the curate +ceased to be his own master.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I suppose you are Mr. Gilmore," +said Eileen.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I have been here only three +weeks and I have not met every one +yet."</p> + +<p>"I have been away for two +months," Eileen mentioned.</p> + +<p>"I thought you must have been," +said the curate, rather subtly for him.</p> + +<p>"I think my brother-in-law called +on you a few days ago," continued +Eileen, on whom the curate's last remark +had made a most favorable +impression. She mentioned my name.</p> + +<p>"I was going to return the call this +very afternoon," said the curate. +And he firmly believed that he was +speaking the truth. "Won't you +come in? We have an excellent chaperon," +indicating Excalibur. "I will +come and open the door."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, he certainly won't come out +unless I come and fetch him," admitted +Eileen thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>A moment later the curate was at +the front door and led his visitor +across the little hall into the sitting-room. +He had not been absent more +than thirty seconds, but during that +time a plateful of sausages had mysteriously +disappeared; and, as they +entered, Excalibur was apologetically +settling down on the hearthrug with a +cottage loaf between his paws.</p> + +<p>Eileen uttered cries of dismay and +apology, but the curate would have +none of them.</p> + +<p>"My fault entirely!" he insisted. +"I have no right to be breakfasting +at this hour; but this is my day off. +You see I take early Service every +morning at seven; but on Wednesdays<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +we cut it out—omit it and +have full Matins at ten. So I get up +at half-past nine, take Service at ten, +and come back to my rooms at eleven +and have breakfast. It is my weekly +treat."</p> + +<p>"You deserve it," said Eileen feelingly. +Her religious exercises were +limited to going to church on Sunday +morning and coming out, if possible, +after the Litany. "And how do you +like Much Moreham?"</p> + +<p>"I did not like it at all when I +came," said the curate, "but recently +I have begun to enjoy myself +immensely." He did not say how +recently.</p> + +<p>"Were you in London before?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—in the East End. It was +pretty hard work, but a useful experience. +I feel rather lost here during<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +my spare time. I get so little exercise. +In London I used to slip away +for an occasional outing in a Leander +scratch eight, and that kept me fit. I +am inclined," he added ruefully, "to +put on flesh."</p> + +<p>"Leander? Are you a Blue?"</p> + +<p>The curate nodded.</p> + +<p>"You know about rowing, I see," +he said appreciatively. "The worst +of rowing," he continued, "is that it +takes up so much of a man's time that +he has no opportunity of practicing +anything else—cricket, for instance. +All curates ought to be able to play +cricket. I do my best; but there isn't +a single boy in the Sunday School who +can't bowl me. It's humiliating!"</p> + +<p>"Do you play tennis at all?" +asked Eileen.</p> + +<p>"Yes, in a way."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am sure my sister will be pleased +if you come and have a game with us +some afternoon."</p> + +<p>The enraptured curate had already +opened his mouth to accept this demure +invitation when Excalibur, rising +from the hearthrug, stretched +himself luxuriously and wagged his +tail, thereby removing three pipes, +an inkstand, a tobacco jar, and a +half-completed sermon from the writing +table.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Excalibur</span> was heavily overworked +in his new rôle of chaperon +during the next three or four weeks, +and any dog less ready to oblige than +himself might have felt a little aggrieved +at the treatment to which he +was subjected.</p> + +<p>There was the case of the tennis +lawn, for instance. He had always +regarded this as his own particular +sanctuary, dedicated to reflection and +repose; but now the net was stretched +across it and Eileen and the curate +performed antics all over the court +with rackets and small white balls +which, though they did not hurt Excalibur, +kept him awake. It did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +occur to him to convey himself elsewhere, +for his mind moved slowly; +and the united blandishments of the +players failed to bring the desirability +of such a course home to him. He +continued to lie in his favorite spot +on the sunny side of the court, looking +injured but forgiving, or slumbering +perseveringly amid the storm that +raged round him.</p> + +<p>It was quite impossible to move +Excalibur once he had decided to remain +where he was; so Eileen and the +curate agreed to regard him as a sort +of artificial excrescence, like the buttress +in a fives court. If the ball hit +him, as it frequently did, the player +waiting for it was at liberty either to +play it or claim a let. This arrangement +added a piquant and pleasing +variety to what is too often—especially<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +when indulged in by mediocre +players—a very dull game.</p> + +<p>Worse was to follow, however. One +day Eileen and the curate conducted +Excalibur to a neighboring mountain +range—at least, so it appeared to +Excalibur—and played another ball +game. This time they employed long +sticks with iron heads, and two balls, +which, though they were much smaller +than tennis balls, were incredibly +hard and painful. Excalibur, though +willing to help and anxious to please, +could not supervise both the balls at +once. As sure as he ran to retrieve +one the other came after him and +took him unfairly in the rear. Excalibur +was the gentlest of creatures, but +the most perfect gentleman has his +dignity to consider.</p> + +<p>After having been struck for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +third time by one of these balls he +whipped round, picked it up in his +mouth and gave it a tiny pinch, just +as a warning. At least, he thought it +was a tiny pinch. The ball retaliated +with unexpected ferocity. It twisted +and turned. It emitted long, snaky +spirals of some elastic substance, +which clogged his teeth and tickled +his throat and wound themselves +round his tongue and nearly choked +him. Panic-stricken, he ran to his +mistress, who, with weeping and with +laughter, removed the writhing horror +from his jaws and comforted him +with fair words.</p> + +<p>After that Excalibur realized that +it is wiser to walk behind golfers than +in front of them. It was a boring +business, though, and very exhausting, +for he loathed exercise of every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +kind; and his only periods of repose +were the occasions on which the expedition +came to a halt on certain +small, flat lawns, each of which contained +a hole with a flag in it.</p> + +<p>Here Excalibur would lie down, +with the contented sigh of a tired +child, and go to sleep. As he almost +invariably lay down between the hole +and the ball, the players agreed to regard +him as a bunker. Eileen putted +round him; but the curate—who +had little regard for the humbler +works of creation, Excalibur thought—used +to take his mashie and attempt +a lofting shot, an enterprise in +which he almost invariably failed, to +Excalibur's great inconvenience.</p> + +<p>Country walks were more tolerable, +for Eileen's supervision of his movements, +which was usually marked by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +an officious severity, was sensibly relaxed +on these days and Excalibur +found himself at liberty to range +abroad amid the heath and through +the coppices, engaged in a pastime +that he imagined was hunting.</p> + +<p>One hot afternoon, wandering into +a clearing, he encountered a hare. +The hare, which was suffering from +extreme panic, owing to a terrifying +noise behind it,—the blast of the +newest and most vulgar motor horn, +to be precise,—was bolting right +across the clearing. After the manner +of hares where objects directly +in front of them are concerned, the +fugitive entirely failed to perceive +Excalibur and, indeed, ran right underneath +him on its way to cover. +Excalibur was so unstrung by this +adventure that he ran back to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +where he had left Eileen and the +curate.</p> + +<p>They were sitting side by side on +the grass and the curate was holding +Eileen's hand.</p> + +<p>Excalibur advanced on them thankfully +and indicated by an ingratiating +smile that a friendly remark or +other recognition of his presence +would be gratefully received; but +neither took the slightest notice of +him. They continued to gaze straight +before them in a mournful and abstracted +fashion. They looked not +so much at Excalibur as through him. +First the hare, then Eileen and the +curate! Excalibur began to fear that +he had become invisible, or at least +transparent. Greatly agitated he +drifted away into a neighboring plantation +full of young pheasants. Here<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +he encountered a keeper, who was +able to dissipate his gloomy suspicions +for him without any difficulty +whatsoever. But Eileen and the curate +sat on.</p> + +<p>"A hundred pounds a year!" repeated +the curate. "A pass degree +and no influence! I can't preach and +I have no money of my own. Dearest, +I ought never to have told +you."</p> + +<p>"Told me what?" inquired Eileen +softly. She knew quite well; but she +was a woman, and a woman can never +let well enough alone.</p> + +<p>The curate, turning to Eileen, delivered +himself of a statement of +three words. Eileen's reply was a +softly whispered <i>Tu quoque!</i></p> + +<p>"It had to happen, dear," she +added cheerfully, for she did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +share the curate's burden of responsibility +in the matter. "If you had +not told me we should have been miserable +separately. Now that you +have told me, we can be miserable together. +And when two people who—who—" +She hesitated.</p> + +<p>The curate supplied the relative +sentence. Eileen nodded her head in +acknowledgment.</p> + +<p>"Yes; who are—like you and me—are +miserable together, they are +happy! See?"</p> + +<p>"I see," said the curate gravely. +"Yes, you are right there; but we +can't go on living on a diet of joint +misery. We shall have to face the +future. What are we going to do +about it?"</p> + +<p>Then Eileen spoke up boldly for +the first time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Gerald," she said, "we shall simply +have to manage on a hundred a +year."</p> + +<p>But the curate shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Dearest, I should be an utter cad +if I allowed you to do such a thing," +he said. "A hundred a year is less +than two pounds a week!"</p> + +<p>"A lot of people live on less than +two pounds a week," Eileen pointed +out longingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I know. If we could rent a +three-shilling cottage and I could go +about with a spotted handkerchief +round my neck, and you could scrub +the doorsteps <i>coram populo</i>, we might +be very comfortable; but the clergy +belong to the black-coated class, and +people in the lower ranks of the black-coated +class are the poorest people in +the whole wide world. They have to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +spend money on luxuries—collars +and charwomen, and so on—which +a workingman can spend entirely on +necessities. It wouldn't merely mean +no pretty dresses and a lot of hard +work for you, Eileen. It would mean +starvation! Believe me—I know! +Some of my friends have tried it—and +I know!"</p> + +<p>"What happened to them?" asked +Eileen fearfully.</p> + +<p>"They all had to come down in the +end—some soon, some late, but all +in time—to taking parish relief."</p> + +<p>"Parish relief?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; not official, regulation, rate-aided +charity, but the infinitely more +humiliating charity of their well-to-do +neighbors—quiet checks, second-hand +dresses, and things like that. +No, little girl; you and I are too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +proud—too proud of the cloth—for +that. We will never give a handle to +the people who are always waiting to +have a fling at the improvident clergy—not +if it breaks our hearts, we +won't!"</p> + +<p>"You are quite right, dear," said +Eileen quietly. "We must wait."</p> + +<p>Then the curate said the most difficult +thing he had said yet:—</p> + +<p>"I shall have to go away from +here."</p> + +<p>Eileen's hand turned cold in his.</p> + +<p>"Why?" she whispered; but she +knew.</p> + +<p>"Because if we wait here we shall +wait forever. The last curate in +Much Moreham—what happened +to him?"</p> + +<p>"He died."</p> + +<p>"Yes—at fifty-five; and he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +been here for thirty years. Preferment +does not come in sleepy villages. +I must go back to London."</p> + +<p>"The East End?"</p> + +<p>"East or south or north—it doesn't +signify. Anywhere but west. In +the east and south and north there is +always work to be done—hard work. +And if a parson has no money and +no brains and no influence, and can +only work—run clothing clubs and +soup kitchens, and reclaim drunkards—London +is the place for him. So off +I go to London, my beloved, to lay +the foundations of Paradise for you +and me—for you and me!"</p> + +<p>There was a long silence. Then the +pair rose to their feet and smiled on +each other extremely cheerfully, because +each suspected the other—rightly—of +low spirits.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Shall we tell people?" asked the +curate.</p> + +<p>Eileen thought, and shook her +head.</p> + +<p>"No," she said; "nicer not. It will +make a splendid secret."</p> + +<p>"Just between us two, eh?" said +the curate, kindling at the thought.</p> + +<p>"Just between us two," agreed +Eileen. And the curate kissed her +very solemnly. A secret is a comfortable +thing to lovers, especially when +they are young and about to be lonely.</p> + +<p>At this moment a leonine head, +supported on a lumbering and ill-balanced +body, was thrust in between +them. It was Excalibur, taking sanctuary +with the Church from the +vengeance of the Law.</p> + +<p>"We might tell Scally, I think," +said Eileen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Rather!" assented the curate. +"He introduced us."</p> + +<p>So Eileen communicated the great +news to Excalibur.</p> + +<p>"You do approve, dear—don't +you?" she said.</p> + +<p>Excalibur, instinctively realizing +that this was an occasion when liberties +might be taken, stood up on his +hind legs and placed his forepaws on +his mistress's shoulders. The curate +supported them both.</p> + +<p>"And you will use your influence to +get us a living wage from somewhere—won't +you, old man?" added the +curate.</p> + +<p>Excalibur tried to lick both their +faces at once—and succeeded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">So</span> the curate went away, but not +to London. He was sent instead to +a great manufacturing town in the +north, where the work was equally +hard, and where Anglican and Roman +and Salvationist fought grimly side +by side against the powers of drink +and disease and crime. During these +days, which ultimately rolled into +years, the curate lost his boyish +freshness and his unfortunate tendency +to put on flesh. He grew thin +and lathy; and, though his smile was +as ready and as magnetic as ever, he +seldom laughed.</p> + +<p>He never failed, however, to write +a cheerful letter to Eileen every Monday +morning. He was getting a hundred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +and twenty pounds a year now; +so his chances of becoming a millionaire +had increased by twenty per +cent.</p> + +<p>Meantime his two confederates, +Excalibur and Eileen, continued to +reside at Much Moreham. Eileen +was still the recognized beauty of the +district, but she spread her net less +promiscuously than of yore. Girl +friends she always had in plenty, but +it was noticed that she avoided intimacy +with all eligible males of over +twenty and under forty-five years of +age. No one knew the reason for this +except Excalibur. Eileen used to read +Gerald's letters aloud to him every +Tuesday morning; sometimes the +letter contained a friendly message +to Excalibur himself.</p> + +<p>In acknowledgment of this courtesy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +Excalibur always sent his love +to the curate—Eileen wrote every +Friday—and he and Eileen walked +together, rain or shine, on Friday +afternoons to post the letter in the +next village. Much Moreham's post +office was too small to remain oblivious +to such a regular correspondence.</p> + +<p>The curate was seen no more in his +old parish. Railroad journeys are +costly things and curates' holidays +rare. Besides, he had no overt excuse +for coming. And so life went on for +five years. The curate and Eileen +may have met during that period, for +Eileen sometimes went away visiting. +As Excalibur was not privileged to +accompany her on these occasions he +had no means of checking her movements; +but the chances are that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +never saw the curate, or I think she +would have told Excalibur about it. +We simply have to tell some one.</p> + +<p>Then, quite suddenly, came a tremendous +change in Excalibur's life. +Eileen's brother-in-law—he was Excalibur's +master no longer, for Excalibur +had been transferred to Eileen +by deed of gift, at her own request, on +her first birthday after the curate's +departure—fell ill. There was an +operation and a crisis, and a deal +of unhappiness at Much Moreham; +then came convalescence, followed +by directions for a sea voyage of six +months. It was arranged that the +house should be shut up and the children +sent to their grandmother at +Bath.</p> + +<p>"That settles everything and +everybody," said the gaunt man on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +the sofa, "except you, Eileen? What +about you?"</p> + +<p>"What about Scally?" inquired +Eileen.</p> + +<p>Her brother-in-law apologetically +admitted that he had forgotten +Scally.</p> + +<p>"Not quite myself at present," he +mentioned in extenuation.</p> + +<p>"I am going to Aunt Phœbe," announced +Eileen.</p> + +<p>"You are never going to introduce +Scally into Aunt Phœbe's establishment!" +cried Eileen's sister.</p> + +<p>"No," said Eileen, "I am not." +She rubbed Excalibur's matted head +affectionately. "But I have arranged +for the dear man's future. He is +going to visit friends in the north. +Aren't you, darling?"</p> + +<p>Excalibur, to whom this arrangement<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +had been privately communicated +some days before, wagged his +tail and endeavored to look as intelligent +and knowing as possible. He +was not going to put his beloved mistress +to shame by admitting to her +relatives that he had not the faintest +idea what she was talking about.</p> + +<p>However, he was soon to understand. +The next day Eileen took him +up to London by train. This in itself +was a tremendous adventure, though +alarming at first. He traveled in the +guard's van, it having been found +quite impossible to get him into an +ordinary compartment—or, rather, +to get any one else into the compartment +after he lay down on the +floor. So he traveled with the guard, +chained to the vacuum brake, and +shared that kindly official's dinner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>When they reached the terminus +there was much bustle and confusion. +The door of the van was thrown open +and porters dragged out the luggage +and submitted samples thereof to +overheated passengers, who invariably +failed to recognize their own +property and claimed someone else's.</p> + +<p>Finally, when the luggage was all +cleared out, the guard took off Excalibur's +chain and facetiously invited +him to alight for London Town. Excalibur, +lumbering delicately across +the ribbed floor of the van, arrived +at the open doorway. Outside on the +platform he espied Eileen. Beside her +stood a tall figure in black.</p> + +<p>With one tremendous roar of rapturous +recognition, Excalibur leaped +straight out of the van and launched +himself fairly and squarely at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +curate's chest. Luckily the curate +saw him coming.</p> + +<p>"He knows you, all right," said +Eileen with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"He appears to," replied the curate. +"Afraid I don't dance the tango, +Scally, old man; but thanks for the +invitation, all the same!"</p> + +<p>Excalibur spent the rest of the day +in London, where it must be admitted +he caused a genuine sensation—no +mean feat in such a blasé place.</p> + +<p>In Bond Street the traffic had to +be held up both ways by benevolent +policemen, because Excalibur, feeling +pleasantly tired, lay down to rest.</p> + +<p>When evening came they all dined +together in a cheap little restaurant +in Soho and were very gay, with the +gayety of people who are whistling to +keep their courage up. After dinner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +Eileen said good-bye, first to Excalibur +and then to the curate. She was +much more demonstrative toward +the former than toward the latter, +which is the way of women.</p> + +<p>Then the curate put Eileen into a +taxi and, having with the aid of the +commissionaire extracted Excalibur +from underneath—he had gone there +under some confused impression that +it was the guard's van again—said +good-bye for the last time; and Eileen, +smiling bravely, was whirled away +out of sight.</p> + +<p>As the taxi turned a distant corner +and disappeared from view, it suddenly +occurred to Excalibur that he +had been left behind. Accordingly he +set off in pursuit.</p> + +<p>The curate finally ran him to earth +in Buckingham Palace Road, which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +is a long chase from Soho, where he +was sitting on the pavement, to the +grave inconvenience of the inhabitants +of Pimlico, and refusing to be +comforted. It took his new master +the best part of an hour to get him +to Euston Road, where it was discovered +they had missed the night +mail to the north. Accordingly they +walked to a rival station and took +another train.</p> + +<p>In all this Excalibur was the instrument +of Destiny, as you shall hear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> coroner's jury was inclined at +the time to blame the signalman, but +the Board of Trade inquiry established +the fact that the accident was +due to the engine-driver's neglect to +keep a proper lookout. However, as +the driver was dead and his fireman +with him, the law very leniently took +no further action in the matter.</p> + +<p>About three o'clock in the morning, +as the train was crossing a bleak +Yorkshire moor seven miles from Tetley +Junction, the curate suddenly left +the seat on which he lay stretched +dreaming of Eileen and flew across +the compartment on to the recumbent +form of a stout commercial traveler.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +Then he rebounded to the floor +and woke up—unhurt.</p> + +<p>"'Tis an accident, lad!" gasped +the commercial traveler as he got his +wind.</p> + +<p>"So it seems," said the curate. +"Hold tight! She's rocking!"</p> + +<p>The commercial traveler, who was +mechanically groping under the seat +for his boots,—commercial travelers +always remove their boots in third-class +railroad compartments when +on night journeys,—followed the curate's +advice and braced himself with +his feet against the opposite seat for +the coming <i>bouleversement</i>.</p> + +<p>After the first shock the train had +gathered way again—the light engine +into which it had charged had +been thrown clear off the track—but +only for a moment. Suddenly the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +reeling engine of the express left the +rails and staggered drunkenly along +the ballast. A moment later it turned +over, taking the guard's van and the +first four coaches with it, and the +whole train came to a standstill.</p> + +<p>It was a corridor train, and unfortunately +for Gerald Gilmore and the +commercial traveler their coach fell +over corridor side downward. There +was no door on the other side of the +compartment—only three windows, +crossed by a stout brass bar. These +windows had suddenly become sky-lights.</p> + +<p>They fought their way out at last. +Once he got the window open, the +curate experienced little difficulty in +getting through; but the commercial +traveler was corpulent and tenacious +of his boots, which he held persistently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +in one hand while Gerald +tugged at the other. Still, he was +hauled up at last, and the two slid +down the perpendicular roof of the +coach to the permanent way.</p> + +<p>"That's done, anyway!" panted +the drummer; and sitting down he +began to put on his boots.</p> + +<p>"There's plenty more to do," said +the curate grimly, pulling off his coat. +"The front of the train is on fire. +Come!"</p> + +<p>He turned and ran. Almost at his +first step he cannoned into a heavy +body in rapid motion. It was Excalibur.</p> + +<p>"That you, old friend?" observed +the curate. "I was on my way to see +about you. Now that you are out, +you may as well come and bear a +hand."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> + +<p>The pair sprinted along the line +toward the blazing coaches.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was dawn—gray, weeping, and +cheerless—on Tetley Moor. Another +engine had come up from behind +to take what was left of the train +back to the Junction. Seven coaches, +including the lordly sleeping saloon, +stood intact; four, with the engine +and tender, lay where they had fallen, +a mass of charred wood and twisted +metal.</p> + +<p>A motor car belonging to a doctor +stood in the roadway a hundred yards +off, and its owner, with a brother of +the craft who had been a passenger +on the train, was attending to the +injured. There were fourteen of these +altogether, mostly suffering from +burns. These were made as comfortable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +as possible in sleeping berths +their owners had vacated.</p> + +<p>"Take your seats, please!" said +the surviving guard in a subdued +voice. He spoke at the direction of a +big man in a heavy overcoat, who +appeared to have taken charge of the +salvage operations. The passengers +clambered up into the train.</p> + +<p>Only one hesitated. He was a long, +lean young man, black from head to +foot with soot and oil. His left arm +was badly burned; and seeing a doctor +disengaged at last, he came forward +to have it dressed.</p> + +<p>The big man in the heavy overcoat +approached him.</p> + +<p>"My name is Caversham," he said. +"I happen to be a director of the +company. If you will give me your +name and address I will see to it that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +your services to-night are suitably +recognized. The way you got those +two children out of the first coach +was splendid, if I may be allowed to +say so. We did not even know they +were there."</p> + +<p>The young man's teeth suddenly +flashed out into a white smile against +the blackness of his face.</p> + +<p>"Neither did I, sir," he said. "Let +me introduce you to the responsible +party."</p> + +<p>He whistled. Out of the gray dawn +loomed an eerie monster, badly +singed, wagging its tail.</p> + +<p>"Scally, old man," said the curate, +"this gentleman wants to present you +with an illuminated address. Thank +him prettily!" Then, to the doctor: +"I'm ever so much obliged to you; +it's quite comfortable now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>He began stiffly to pull on his coat +and waistcoat. Lord Caversham, +lending a hand, noted the waistcoat +and said quickly:—</p> + +<p>"Will you travel in my compartment? +I should like to have a word +with you if I may."</p> + +<p>"I think I had better go and have +a look at those poor folks in the +sleeper first," replied the curate. +"They may require my services professionally."</p> + +<p>"At the Junction, then, perhaps?" +suggested Lord Caversham.</p> + +<p>At the Junction, however, the curate +found a special waiting to proceed +north by a loop line; and, being +in no mind to receive compliments or +waste his substance on a hotel, he departed +forthwith, taking his charred +confederate, Excalibur, with him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Fortune</span>, once she takes a fancy +to you, is not readily shaken off, however, +as most successful men are always +trying to forget. A fortnight +later Lord Caversham, leaving his +hotel in a great northern town, encountered +an acquaintance he had no +difficulty whatever in recognizing.</p> + +<p>It was Excalibur, jammed fast between +two stationary tramcars—he +had not yet shaken down to town life—submitting +to a painful but effective +process of extraction at the hands +of a posse of policemen and tram conductors, +shrilly directed by a small +but commanding girl of the lodging-house-drudge +variety.</p> + +<p>When this enterprise had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +brought to a successful conclusion +and the congested traffic moved on +by the overheated policemen, Lord +Caversham crossed the street and +tapped the damsel on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Can you kindly inform me where +the owner of that dog may be found?" +he inquired politely.</p> + +<p>"Yas. Se'nty-one Pilgrim Street. +But 'e won't sell him."</p> + +<p>"Should I be likely to find him at +home if I called now?"</p> + +<p>"Yas. Bin in bed since the accident. +Got a nasty arm."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you would not mind accompanying +me back to Pilgrim +Street in my car?"</p> + +<p>After that Mary Ellen's mind became +an incoherent blur. A stately +limousine glided up; Mary Ellen was +handed in by a footman and Excalibur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +was stuffed in after her in installments. +The grand gentleman entered +by the opposite door and sat down +beside her; but Mary Ellen was much +too dazed to converse with him.</p> + +<p>The arrival of the equipage in Pilgrim +Street was the greatest moment +of Mary Ellen's life.</p> + +<p>Meantime upstairs in the first-floor +front the curate, lying in his uncomfortable +flock bed, was saying:—</p> + +<p>"If you really mean it, sir—"</p> + +<p>"I do mean it. If those two children +had been burned to death unnoticed +I should never have forgiven +myself, and the public would never +have forgiven the company."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, since you say that, you—well, +you could do me a service. +Could you possibly use your influence +to get me a billet—I'm not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +asking for an incumbency; any old +curacy would do—a billet I could +marry on?" He flushed scarlet. "I—we +have been waiting a long time +now."</p> + +<p>There was a long silence, and the +curate wondered whether he had +been too mercenary in his request. +Then Lord Caversham asked:—</p> + +<p>"What are you getting at present?"</p> + +<p>"A hundred and twenty a year."</p> + +<p>This was about two thirds of the +salary Lord Caversham paid his +chauffeur. He asked another question +in his curious, abrupt staccato +manner:—</p> + +<p>"How much do you want?"</p> + +<p>"We could make both ends meet on +two hundred; but another fifty would +enable me to make her a lot more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +comfortable," said the curate wistfully.</p> + +<p>The great man surveyed him silently—wonderingly, +too, if the curate +had known. Presently he asked:</p> + +<p>"Afraid of hard work?"</p> + +<p>"No work is hard to a man with a +wife and a home of his own," replied +the curate with simple fervor.</p> + +<p>Lord Caversham smiled grimly. +He had more homes of his own than +he could conveniently live in, and he +had been married three times; but +even he found work hard now and +then.</p> + +<p>"I wonder!" he said. "Well, good-afternoon. +I should like to be introduced +to your fiancée some day."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + + +<p><span class="smcap">A tramp</span> opened the rectory gate +and shambled up the neat gravel +walk toward the house. Taking a +short cut through the shrubbery he +emerged suddenly on a little lawn.</p> + +<p>On the lawn a lady was sitting in a +basket chair beside a perambulator, +the occupant of which was slumbering +peacefully. A small but intensely +capable nursemaid, prone on the +grass in a curvilinear attitude, was +acting as tunnel to a young gentleman +of three who was impersonating +a locomotive.</p> + +<p>The tramp approached the group +and asked huskily for alms. He was +a burly and unpleasant specimen of +his class—a class all too numerous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +on the outskirts of the great industrial +parish of Smeltingborough. The +lady in the basket chair looked up.</p> + +<p>"The rector is out," she said. "If +you go into the town you will find him +at the Church Hall and he will investigate +your case."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the rector is out, is he?" repeated +the tramp in tones of distinct +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Eileen.</p> + +<p>The tramp advanced another pace.</p> + +<p>"Give us half a crown!" he said. +"I haven't had a bite of food since +yesterday, lady—nor a drink neither," +he added humorously.</p> + +<p>"Please go away!" said the lady. +"You know where to find the rector."</p> + +<p>The tramp smiled unpleasantly, +but made no attempt to move.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You refuse to go away?" the +lady said.</p> + +<p>"I'll go for half a crown," replied +the tramp with the gracious air of +one anxious to oblige a lady.</p> + +<p>"Watch baby for a moment, Mary +Ellen," said Eileen.</p> + +<p>She rose and disappeared into the +house, followed by the gratified smile +of the tramp. He was a reasonable +man and knew that ladies did not +wear pockets.</p> + +<p>"Thirsty weather," he remarked +affably.</p> + +<p>Mary Ellen, keeping one hand on +the shoulder of Master Gerald Caversham +Gilmore and the other on the +edge of the baby's perambulator, +merely chuckled sardonically.</p> + +<p>The next moment there were footsteps +round the corner of the house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +and Eileen reappeared. She was +clinging with both hands to the collar +of an enormous dog. Its tongue lolled +from its great jaws; its tail waved +menacingly from side to side; its +great limbs were bent as though for a +spring. Its eyes were half closed as +though to focus the exact distance.</p> + +<p>"Run!" cried Eileen to the tramp. +"I can't hold him in much longer!"</p> + +<p>This was true enough, except that +when Eileen said "in" she meant +"up." But the tramp did not linger +to discuss grammar. There was a +scurry of feet, the gate banged and +he was gone.</p> + +<p>With a sigh of relief Eileen let go of +Excalibur's collar. Excalibur promptly +collapsed on the grass and went to +sleep again.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCALLY***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 28495-h.txt or 28495-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/4/9/28495">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/4/9/28495</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Scally + The Story of a Perfect Gentleman + + +Author: Ian Hay + + + +Release Date: April 4, 2009 [eBook #28495] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCALLY*** + + +E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy, and the Project Gutenberg +Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustration. + See 28495-h.htm or 28495-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/4/9/28495/28495-h/28495-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/4/9/28495/28495-h.zip) + + + + + +SCALLY + +The Story of a Perfect Gentleman + +by + +IAN HAY + + * * * * * + +By Ian Hay + + SCALLY: THE STORY OF A PERFECT GENTLEMAN. With Frontispiece. + A KNIGHT ON WHEELS. + HAPPY-GO-LUCKY. Illustrated by Charles E. Brock. + A SAFETY MATCH. With frontispiece. + A MAN'S MAN. With frontispiece. + THE RIGHT STUFF. With frontispiece. + + HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + BOSTON AND NEW YORK + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: THE LEADING OBJECT PROVED TO BE A SMALL, WET, SHIVERING, +WHIMPERING PUPPY] + + +SCALLY + +The Story of a Perfect Gentleman + +by + +IAN HAY + + + + + + +[Illustration] + + +Boston and New York +Houghton Mifflin Company +MDCCCCXV + +Copyright, 1914, by the Curtis Publishing Company +Copyright, 1915, by Ian Hay Beith +All Rights Reserved + +Published November 1915 + + + + +SCALLY + + + + +SCALLY + +THE STORY OF A PERFECT GENTLEMAN + + + + +I + + +"BETTERSEA trem? Right, miss!" My wife, who has been married long +enough to feel deeply gratified at being mistaken for a maiden lady, +smiled seraphically at the conductor, and allowed herself to be hoisted +up the steps of the majestic vehicle provided by a paternal county +council to convey passengers--at a loss to the ratepayers, I +understand--from the Embankment to Battersea. + +Presently we ground our way round a curve and began to cross Westminster +Bridge. The conductor, whose innate cockney bonhomie his high official +position had failed to eradicate, presented himself before us and +collected our fares. + +"What part of Bettersea did you require, sir?" he asked of me. + +I coughed and answered evasively:-- + +"Oh, about the middle." + +"We haven't been there before," added my wife, quite gratuitously. + +The conductor smiled indulgently and punched our tickets. + +"I'll tell you when to get down," he said, and left us. + +For some months we had been considering the question of buying a dog, +and a good deal of our spare time--or perhaps I should say of my spare +time, for a woman's time is naturally all her own--had been pleasantly +occupied in discussing the matter. Having at length committed ourselves +to the purchase of the animal, we proceeded to consider such details as +breed, sex, and age. + +My wife vacillated between a bloodhound, because bloodhounds are so +aristocratic in appearance, and a Pekinese, because they are _dernier +cri_. We like to be _dernier cri_ even in Much Moreham. Her younger +sister, Eileen, who spends a good deal of time with us, having no +parents of her own, suggested an Old English sheep dog, explaining that +it would be company for my wife when I was away from home. I coldly +recommended a mastiff. + +Our son John, aged three, on being consulted, expressed a preference for +twelve tigers in a box, and was not again invited to participate in the +debate. + +Finally we decided on an Aberdeen terrier, of an age and sex to be +settled by circumstances, and I was instructed to communicate with a +gentleman in the North who advertised in our morning paper that Aberdeen +terriers were his specialty. In due course we received a reply. The +advertiser recommended two animals--namely, Celtic Chief, aged four +months, and Scotia's Pride, aged one year. Pedigrees were inclosed, each +about as complicated as the family tree of the House of Hapsburg; and +the favor of an early reply was requested, as both dogs were being hotly +bid for by an anonymous client in Constantinople. + +The price of Celtic Chief was twenty guineas; that of Scotia's Pride, +for reasons heavily underlined in the pedigree, was twenty-seven. The +advertiser, who resided in Aberdeen, added that these prices did not +cover cost of carriage. We decided not to stand in the way of the +gentleman in Constantinople, and having sent back the pedigrees by +return of post, resumed the debate. + +Finally Stella, my wife, said:-- + +"We don't really want a dog with a pedigree. We only want something that +will bark at beggars and be gentle with baby. Why not go to the Home for +Lost Dogs at Battersea? I believe you can get any dog you like there for +five shillings. We will run up to town next Wednesday and see about +it--and I might get some clothes as well." + +Hence our presence on the tram. + +Presently the conductor, who had kindly pointed out to us such objects +of local interest as the River Thames and the Houses of Parliament, +stopped the tram in a crowded thoroughfare and announced that we were in +Battersea. + +"Alight here," he announced facetiously, "for 'Ome for Lost Dawgs!" + +Guiltily realizing that there is many a true word spoken in jest, we +obeyed him, and the tram went rocking and whizzing out of sight. We had +eschewed a cab. + +"When you are only going to pay five shillings for a dog," my wife had +pointed out, with convincing logic, "it is silly to go and pay perhaps +another five shillings for a cab. It doubles the price of the dog at +once. If we had been buying an expensive dog we might have taken a cab; +but not for a five-shilling one." + +"Now," I inquired briskly, "how are we going to find this place?" + +"Haven't you any idea where it is?" + +"No. I have a sort of vague notion that it is on an island in the middle +of the river, called the Isle of Dogs, or Barking Reach, or something +like that. However, I have no doubt--" + +"Hadn't we better ask some one?" suggested Stella. + +I demurred. + +"If there is one thing I dislike," I said, "it is accosting total +strangers and badgering them for information they don't possess--not +that that will prevent them from giving it. If we start asking the way +we shall find ourselves in Putney or Woolwich in no time!" + +"Yes, dear," said Stella soothingly. + +"Now I suggest--" My hand went to my pocket. + +"No, darling," interposed my wife, hastily; "not a map, please!" It is a +curious psychological fact that women have a constitutional aversion to +maps and railroad time-tables. They would rather consult a half-witted +errand boy or a deaf railroad porter. "Do not let us make a spectacle of +ourselves in the public streets again! I have not yet forgotten the day +when you tried to find the Crystal Palace. Besides, it will only blow +away. Ask that dear little boy there. He is looking at us so wistfully." + +Yes; I admit it was criminal folly. A man who asks a London street boy +to be so kind as to direct him to a Home for Lost Dogs has only himself +to thank for the consequence. + +The wistful little boy smiled up at us. He had a pinched face and large +eyes. + +"Lost Dogs' 'Ome, sir?" he said courteously. "It's a good long way. Do +you want to get there quick?" + +"Yes." + +"Then if I was you, sir," replied the infant, edging to the mouth of an +alleyway, "I should bite a policeman!" And, with an ear-splitting yell, +he vanished. + +We walked on, hot-faced. + +"Little wretch!" said Stella. + +"We simply asked for it," I rejoined. "What are we going to do next?" + +My question was answered in a most incredible fashion, for at this +moment a man emerged from a shop on our right and set off down the +street before us. He wore a species of uniform; and emblazoned on the +front of his hat was the information that he was an official of the +Battersea Home for Lost and Starving Dogs. + +"Wait a minute and I will ask him," I said, starting forward. + +But my wife would not hear of it. + +"Certainly not," she replied. "If we ask him he will simply offer to +show us the way. Then we shall have to talk to him--about hydrophobia, +and lethal chambers, and distemper--and it may be for miles. I simply +couldn't bear it! We shall have to tip him, too. Let us follow him +quietly." + +To those who have never attempted to track a fellow creature +surreptitiously through the streets of London on a hot day, the feat may +appear simple. It is in reality a most exhausting, dilatory, and +humiliating exercise. Our difficulty lay not so much in keeping our +friend in sight as in avoiding frequent and unexpected collisions with +him. The general idea, as they say on field days, was to keep about +twenty yards behind him; but under certain circumstances distance has an +uncanny habit of annihilating itself. The man himself was no hustler. +Once or twice he stopped to light his pipe or converse with a friend. + +During these interludes Stella and I loafed guiltily on the pavement, +pointing out to one another objects of local interest with the fatuous +officiousness of people in the foreground of hotel advertisements. +Occasionally he paused to contemplate the contents of a shop window. We +gazed industriously into the window next door. Our first window, I +recollect, was an undertaker's, with ready-printed expressions of grief +for sale on white porcelain disks. We had time to read them all. The +next was a butcher's. Here we stayed, perforce, so long that the +proprietor, who was of the tribe that disposes of its wares almost +entirely by personal canvass, came out into the street and endeavored to +sell us a bullock's heart. + +Our quarry's next proceeding was to dive into a public house. We turned +and surveyed one another. + +"What are we to do now?" inquired my wife. + +"Go inside, too," I replied with more enthusiasm than I had hitherto +displayed. "At least, I think I ought to. You can please yourself." + +"I will not be left in the street," said Stella firmly. "We must just +wait here together until he comes out." + +"There may be another exit," I objected. "We had better go in. I shall +take something, just to keep up appearances; and you must sit down in +the ladies' bar, or the snug, or whatever they call it." + +"Certainly not!" said Stella. + +We had arrived at this _impasse_ when the man suddenly reappeared, +wiping his mouth. Instantly and silently we fell in behind him. + +For the first time the man appeared to notice our presence. He regarded +us curiously, with a faint gleam of recognition in his eyes, and then +set off down the street at a good pace. We followed, panting. Once or +twice he looked back over his shoulder a little apprehensively, I +thought. But we ploughed on. + +"We ought to get there soon at this pace," I gasped. "Hello! He's gone +again!" + +"He turned down to the right," said Stella excitedly. + +The lust of the chase was fairly on us now. We swung eagerly round the +corner into a quiet by-street. Our man was nowhere to be seen and the +street was almost empty. + +"Come on!" said Stella. "He may have turned in somewhere." + +We hurried down the street. Suddenly, warned by a newly awakened and +primitive instinct, I looked back. We had overrun our quarry. He had +just emerged from some hiding place and was heading back toward the main +street, looking fearfully over his shoulder. Once more we were in full +cry. + +For the next five minutes we practically ran--all three of us. The man +was obviously frightened out of his wits, and kept making frenzied and +spasmodic spurts, from which we surmised that he was getting to the end +of his powers of endurance. + +"If only we could overtake him," I said, hauling my exhausted spouse +along by the arm, "we could explain that--" + +"He's gone again!" exclaimed Stella. + +She was right. The man had turned another corner. We followed him round +hotfoot, and found ourselves in a prim little _cul-de-sac_, with villas +on each side. Across the end of the street ran a high wall, obviously +screening a railroad track. + +"We've got him!" I exclaimed. + +I felt as Moltke must have felt when he closed the circle at Sedan. + +"But where is the Dogs' Home, dear?" inquired Stella. + +The question was never answered, for at this moment the man ran up the +steps of the fourth villa on the left and slipped a latchkey into the +lock. The door closed behind him with a venomous snap and we were left +alone in the street, guideless and dogless. + +A minute later the man appeared at the ground-floor window, accompanied +by a female of commanding appearance. He pointed us out to her. Behind +them we could dimly descry a white tablecloth, a tea cozy and covered +dishes. + +The commanding female, after a prolonged and withering glare, plucked a +hairpin from her head and ostentatiously proceeded to skewer together +the starchy white curtains that framed the window. Privacy secured and +the sanctity of the English home thus pointedly vindicated, she and her +husband disappeared into the murky background, where they doubtless sat +down to an excellent high tea. Exhausted and discomfited, we drifted +away. + +"I am going home," said Stella in a hollow voice. "And I think," she +added bitterly, "that it might have occurred to you to suggest that the +creature might possibly be going from the Dogs' Home and not to it." + +I apologized. It is the simplest plan, really. + + + + +II + + +IT was almost dark when the train arrived at our little country +station. We set out to walk home by the short cut across the golf +course. + +"Anyhow, we have saved five shillings," remarked Stella. + +"We paid half a crown for that taxi which took us back to Victoria +Station," I reminded her. + +"Do not argue to-night, darling," responded my wife. "I simply cannot +endure anything more." + +Plainly she was a little unstrung. Very considerately, I selected +another topic. + +"I think our best plan," I said cheerfully, "would be to advertise for a +dog." + +"I never wish to see a dog again," replied Stella. + +I surveyed her with some concern and said gently:-- + +"I am afraid you are tired, dear." + +"No; I'm not." + +"A little shaken, perhaps?" + +"Nothing of the kind. Joe, what is that?" + +Stella's fingers bit deep into my biceps muscle, causing me considerable +pain. We were passing a small sheet of water which guards the thirteenth +green on the golf course. It is a stagnant and unclean pool, but we make +rather a fuss of it. We call it the pond; and if you play a ball into it +you send a blasphemous caddie in after it and count one stroke. + +A young moon was struggling up over the trees, dismally illuminating +the scene. On the slimy shores of the pond we beheld a small moving +object. + +A yard behind it was another object, a little smaller, moving at exactly +the same pace. One of the objects was emitting sounds of distress. + +Abandoning my quaking consort I advanced to the edge of the pond and +leaned down to investigate the mystery. + +The leading object proved to be a small, wet, shivering, whimpering +puppy. The satellite was a brick. The two were connected by a string. +The puppy had just emerged from the depths of the pond, towing the brick +behind it. + +"What is it, dear?" repeated Stella fearfully. + +"Your dog!" I replied, and cut the string. + + + + +III + + +WE spent three days deciding on a name for him. Stella suggested +Tiny, on account of his size. I pointed out that time might stultify +this selection of a title. + +"I don't think so," said Eileen, supporting her sister. "That kind of +dog does not grow very big." + +"What kind of dog is he?" I inquired swiftly. + +Eileen said no more. There are problems that even girls of twenty cannot +solve. + +A warm bath had revealed to us the fact that the puppy was of a dingy +yellow hue. I suggested that we should call him Mustard. Our son John, +on being consulted--against my advice--by his mother, addressed the +animal as Pussy. Stella continued to favor Tiny. Finally Eileen, who was +at the romantic age, produced a copy of Tennyson and suggested +Excalibur, alleging in support of her preposterous proposition that + + It rose from out the bosom of the lake. + +"The darling rose from out the bosom of the lake, too, just like the +sword Excalibur," she said; "so I think it would make a lovely name for +him." + +"The little brute waded out of a muddy pond towing a brick," I replied. +"I see no parallel. He was not the product of the pond. Some one must +have thrown him in, and he came out." + +"That is just what some one must have done with the sword," retorted +Eileen. "So we'll call you Excalibur, won't we, darling little Scally?" + +She embraced the puppy warmly and the unsuspecting animal replied by +frantically licking her face. + +However, the name stuck, with variations. When the puppy was big enough +he was presented with a collar, engraved with the name Excalibur, +together with my name and address. Among ourselves we usually addressed +him as Scally. The children in the village called him the Scalawag. + +His time during his first year in our household was fully occupied in +growing up. Stella declared that if one could have persuaded him to +stand still for five minutes it would have been actually possible to +see him grow. He grew at the rate of about an inch a week for the best +part of a year. When he had finished he looked like nothing on earth. At +one time we cherished a brief but illusory hope that he was going to +turn into some sort of an imitation of a St. Bernard; but the symptoms +rapidly passed off, and his final and permanent aspect was that of a +rather badly stuffed lion. + +Like most overgrown creatures he was top-heavy and lethargic and very +humble-minded. Still, there was a kind of respectful pertinacity about +him. It requires some strength of character, for instance, to wade along +the bottom of a pond to dry land, accompanied by a brick as big as +yourself. It was quite impossible, too, short of locking him up, to +prevent him from accompanying us when we took our walks abroad, if he +had made up his mind to do so. + +The first time this happened I was going to shoot with my neighbors, the +Hoods. It was only a mile to the first covert and I set off after +breakfast to walk. I was hardly out on the road when Excalibur was +beside me, ambling uncertainly on his weedy legs and smiling up into my +face with an air of imbecile affection. + +"You have many qualities, old friend," I said, "but I don't think you +are a sporting dog. Go home!" + +Excalibur sat down on the road with a dejected air. Then, having given +me fifty yards start, he rose and crawled sheepishly after me. I +stopped, called him up, pointed him with some difficulty in the +required direction, gave him a resounding spank and bade him begone. He +responded by collapsing like a camp bedstead, and I left him. + +Two minutes later I looked round. Excalibur was ten yards behind me, +propelling himself along on his stomach. This time I thrashed him +severely. After he began to howl I let him go, and he lumbered away +homeward, the picture of misery. + +In due course I reached the crossroads where I had arranged to meet the +rest of the party. They had not arrived, but Excalibur had. He had made +a detour and headed me off. Not certain which route I would take after +reaching the crossroads, he was sitting very sensibly under the +signpost, awaiting my arrival. On seeing me he immediately came +forward, wagging his tail, and placed himself at my feet in the position +most convenient to me for inflicting chastisement. + +I wonder how many of our human friends would be willing to pay such a +price for the pleasure of our company. + +As time went on Excalibur filled out into one of the most terrifying +spectacles I have ever beheld. In one respect, though, he lived up to +his knightly name. His manners were of the most courtly description and +he had an affectionate greeting for all, beggars included. He was +particularly fond of children. If he saw children in the distance he +would canter up and offer to play with them. If the children had not met +him before they would run shrieking to their nurses. If they had they +would fall on Excalibur in a body and roll him over and pull him about. + +On wet afternoons, in the nursery, my own family used to play at dentist +with him, assigning to Excalibur the role of patient. Gas was +administered with a bicycle pump, and a shoehorn and buttonhook were +employed in place of the ordinary instruments of torture; but Excalibur +did not mind. He lay on his back on the hearth rug, with the principal +dentist sitting astride his ribs, as happy as a king. + +He was particularly attracted by babies; and being able by reason of his +stature to look right down into perambulators, he was accustomed +whenever he met one of those vehicles to amble alongside and peer +inquiringly into the face of its occupant. Most of the babies in the +district got to know him in time, but until they did we had a good deal +of correspondence to attend to on the subject. + +Excalibur's intellect may have been lofty, but his memory was +treacherous. Our household will never forget the day on which he was +given the shoulder of mutton. + +One morning after breakfast Eileen, accompanied by Excalibur, +intercepted the kitchen maid hastening in the direction of the potting +shed, carrying the joint in question at arm's length. The damsel +explained that its premature maturity was due to the recent warm weather +and that she was even now in search of the gardener's boy, who would be +commissioned to perform the duties of sexton. + +"It seems a waste, miss," observed the kitchen maid; "but cook says it +can't be ate nohow now." + +Loud but respectful snuffings from Excalibur moved a direct negative to +this statement. Eileen and the kitchen maid, who were both criminally +weak where Excalibur was concerned, saw a way to gratify their +economical instincts and their natural affection simultaneously. The +next moment Excalibur was lurching contentedly down the gravel path with +a presentation shoulder of mutton in his mouth. + +Then Joy Day began. Excalibur took his prize into the middle of the +tennis lawn. It was a very large shoulder of mutton, but Excalibur +finished it in ten minutes. After that, distended to his utmost limits, +he went to sleep in the sun, with the bone between his paws. +Occasionally he woke up and, raising his head, stared solemnly into +space, in the attitude of a Trafalgar Square lion. + +The bone now lay white and gleaming on the grass beside him. Then he +fell asleep again. About four o'clock he roused himself and began to +look for a suitable place of interment for the bone. By four-thirty the +deed was done and he went to sleep once more. At five he woke up and +pandemonium began. He could not remember where he had buried the bone! + +He started systematically with the rose beds, but met with no success. +After that he tried two or three shrubberies without avail, and then +embarked on a frantic but thorough excavation of the tennis lawn. We +were taking tea on the lawn at the time, and our attention was first +drawn to Excalibur's bereavement by a temporary but unshakable +conviction on his part that the bone was buried immediately underneath +the tea table. + +As the tennis lawn was fast beginning to resemble a golf course we +locked Excalibur up in the washhouse, where his hyena-like howls rent +the air for the rest of the evening, penetrating even to the +dining-room. This was particularly unfortunate, because we were having a +dinner party in honor of a neighbor who had recently come to the +district, no less a personage, in fact, than the new lord-lieutenant of +the county and his lady. Stella was naturally anxious that there should +be no embarrassments on such an occasion, and it distressed her to think +that these people should imagine that we kept a private torture chamber +on the premises. + +However, dinner passed off quite successfully and we adjourned to the +drawing-room. It was a chilly September evening and Lady Wickham was +accommodated with a seat by the fire in a large armchair, with a cushion +at her back. When the gentlemen came in Eileen sang to us. Fortunately +the drawing-room is out of range of the washhouse. + +During Eileen's first song I sat by Lady Wickham. Her expression was one +of patrician calm and well-bred repose, but it seemed to me she was not +looking quite comfortable. I was not feeling quite comfortable myself. +The atmosphere seemed a trifle oppressive: perhaps we had done wrong in +having a fire after all. Lady Wickham appeared to notice it too. She sat +very upright, fanning herself mechanically, and seemed disinclined to +lean back in her chair. + +After the song was finished I said: + +"I am afraid you are not quite comfortable, Lady Wickham. Let me get you +a larger cushion." + +"Thank you," said Lady Wickham, "the cushion I have is delightfully +comfortable; but I think there is something hard behind it." + +Apologetically I plucked away the cushion. Lady Wickham was right; there +was something behind it. + +It was Excalibur's bone! + + + + +IV + + +A WALK along the village street was always a great event for +Excalibur. Still, it must have contained many humiliating moments for +one of his sensitive disposition; for he was always pathetically anxious +to make friends with other dogs, but was rarely successful. Little dogs +merely bit his legs and big dogs cut him dead. + +I think this was why he usually commenced his morning round by calling +on a rabbit. The rabbit lived in a hutch in a yard at the end of a +passage between two cottages, the first turning on the right after you +entered the village, and Excalibur always dived down this at the +earliest opportunity. It was no use for Eileen, who usually took him +out on these occasions, to endeavor to hold him back. Either Excalibur +called on the rabbit by himself or Eileen went with him; there was no +other alternative. + +Arrived at the hutch, Excalibur wagged his tail and contemplated the +rabbit with his usual air of vacuous benevolence. The rabbit made not +the faintest response, but continued to munch green feed, twitching its +nose in a superior manner. Finally, when it could endure Excalibur's +admiring inspection and hard breathing no longer, it turned its back and +retired into its bedroom. + +Excalibur's next call was usually at the butcher's shop, where he was +presented with a specially selected and quite unsalable fragment of +meat. He then crossed the road to the baker's, where he purchased a +halfpenny bun, for which his escort was expected to pay. After that he +walked from shop to shop, wherever he was taken, with great docility and +enjoyment; for he was a gregarious animal and had a friend behind or +underneath almost every counter in the village. Men, women, babies, +kittens, even ducks--they were all one to him. + +At one time Eileen had endeavored to teach him a few simple +accomplishments, such as begging for food, dying for his country, and +carrying parcels. She was unsuccessful in all three instances. Excalibur +on his hind legs stood about five feet six, and when he fell from that +eminence, as he invariably did when he tried to beg, he usually broke +something. He was hampered, too, by inability to distinguish one order +from another. More than once he narrowly escaped with his life through +mistaking an urgent appeal to come to heel out of the way of an +approaching automobile for a command to die for his country in the +middle of the road. + +As for educating him to carry parcels, a single attempt was sufficient. +The parcel in question contained a miscellaneous assortment of articles +from the grocer's, including lard, soap, and safety matches. It was +securely tied up, and the grocer kindly attached it by a short length of +string to a wooden clothespin, in order to make it easier for Excalibur +to carry. They set off home. + +Excalibur was most apologetic about it afterward, besides being +extremely unwell; but he had no idea, he explained to Eileen, that +anything put into his mouth was not meant to be eaten. He then tendered +the clothespin and some mangled brown paper, with an air of profound +abasement. After that no further attempts at compulsory education were +undertaken. + +It was his daily walk with Eileen, however, which introduced Excalibur +to life--life in its broadest and most romantic sense. As I was not +privileged to be present at the opening incident of this episode, or at +most of its subsequent developments, the direct conduct of this +narrative here passes out of my hands. + +One sunny morning in July a young man in clerical attire sat +breakfasting in his rooms at Mrs. Tice's. Mrs. Tice's establishment was +situated on the village street and Mrs. Tice was in the habit of letting +her ground floor to lodgers of impeccable respectability. + +It was half-past eleven, which is a late hour for the clergy to +breakfast; but this young man appeared to be suffering from no qualms of +conscience on the subject. He was making an excellent breakfast and +reading the Henley results with a mixture of rapture and longing. + +He had just removed the "Sportsman" from the convenient buttress of the +teapot and substituted "Punch" when he became aware that day had turned +to night. Looking up he perceived that his open window, which was rather +small and of the casement variety, was completely blocked by a huge, +shapeless, and opaque mass. Next moment the mass resolved itself into an +animal of enormous size and surprising appearance, which fell heavily +into the room, and + + Like a stream that, spouting from a cliff, + Fails in mid-air, but, gathering at the base, + Remakes itself, + +rose to its feet and, advancing to the table, laid a heavy head on the +white cloth and lovingly passed its tongue--which resembled that of the +great anteater--round a cold chicken conveniently adjacent. + +Five minutes later the window framed another picture--this time a girl +of twenty, white-clad and wearing a powder-blue felt hat, caught up on +one side by a silver buckle which twinkled in the hot morning sun. The +curate started to his feet. Excalibur, who was now lying on the +hearthrug dismembering the chicken, thumped his tail guiltily on the +floor, but made no attempt to rise. + +"I am very sorry," said Eileen, "but I am afraid my dog is trespassing. +May I call him out?" + +"Certainly!" said the curate. "But"--he racked his brains to devise some +means of delaying the departure of this radiant, fragrant vision--"he is +not the least in the way. I am very glad of his company; it was most +neighborly of him to call. After all, I suppose he is one of my +parishioners. And--and"--he blushed--"I hope you are, too." + +Eileen gave him her most entrancing smile, and from that hour the curate +ceased to be his own master. + +"I suppose you are Mr. Gilmore," said Eileen. + +"Yes. I have been here only three weeks and I have not met every one +yet." + +"I have been away for two months," Eileen mentioned. + +"I thought you must have been," said the curate, rather subtly for him. + +"I think my brother-in-law called on you a few days ago," continued +Eileen, on whom the curate's last remark had made a most favorable +impression. She mentioned my name. + +"I was going to return the call this very afternoon," said the curate. +And he firmly believed that he was speaking the truth. "Won't you come +in? We have an excellent chaperon," indicating Excalibur. "I will come +and open the door." + +"Well, he certainly won't come out unless I come and fetch him," +admitted Eileen thoughtfully. + +A moment later the curate was at the front door and led his visitor +across the little hall into the sitting-room. He had not been absent +more than thirty seconds, but during that time a plateful of sausages +had mysteriously disappeared; and, as they entered, Excalibur was +apologetically settling down on the hearthrug with a cottage loaf +between his paws. + +Eileen uttered cries of dismay and apology, but the curate would have +none of them. + +"My fault entirely!" he insisted. "I have no right to be breakfasting at +this hour; but this is my day off. You see I take early Service every +morning at seven; but on Wednesdays we cut it out--omit it and have +full Matins at ten. So I get up at half-past nine, take Service at ten, +and come back to my rooms at eleven and have breakfast. It is my weekly +treat." + +"You deserve it," said Eileen feelingly. Her religious exercises were +limited to going to church on Sunday morning and coming out, if +possible, after the Litany. "And how do you like Much Moreham?" + +"I did not like it at all when I came," said the curate, "but recently I +have begun to enjoy myself immensely." He did not say how recently. + +"Were you in London before?" + +"Yes--in the East End. It was pretty hard work, but a useful experience. +I feel rather lost here during my spare time. I get so little exercise. +In London I used to slip away for an occasional outing in a Leander +scratch eight, and that kept me fit. I am inclined," he added ruefully, +"to put on flesh." + +"Leander? Are you a Blue?" + +The curate nodded. + +"You know about rowing, I see," he said appreciatively. "The worst of +rowing," he continued, "is that it takes up so much of a man's time that +he has no opportunity of practicing anything else--cricket, for +instance. All curates ought to be able to play cricket. I do my best; +but there isn't a single boy in the Sunday School who can't bowl me. +It's humiliating!" + +"Do you play tennis at all?" asked Eileen. + +"Yes, in a way." + +"I am sure my sister will be pleased if you come and have a game with us +some afternoon." + +The enraptured curate had already opened his mouth to accept this demure +invitation when Excalibur, rising from the hearthrug, stretched himself +luxuriously and wagged his tail, thereby removing three pipes, an +inkstand, a tobacco jar, and a half-completed sermon from the writing +table. + + + + +V + + +EXCALIBUR was heavily overworked in his new role of chaperon during +the next three or four weeks, and any dog less ready to oblige than +himself might have felt a little aggrieved at the treatment to which he +was subjected. + +There was the case of the tennis lawn, for instance. He had always +regarded this as his own particular sanctuary, dedicated to reflection +and repose; but now the net was stretched across it and Eileen and the +curate performed antics all over the court with rackets and small white +balls which, though they did not hurt Excalibur, kept him awake. It did +not occur to him to convey himself elsewhere, for his mind moved +slowly; and the united blandishments of the players failed to bring the +desirability of such a course home to him. He continued to lie in his +favorite spot on the sunny side of the court, looking injured but +forgiving, or slumbering perseveringly amid the storm that raged round +him. + +It was quite impossible to move Excalibur once he had decided to remain +where he was; so Eileen and the curate agreed to regard him as a sort of +artificial excrescence, like the buttress in a fives court. If the ball +hit him, as it frequently did, the player waiting for it was at liberty +either to play it or claim a let. This arrangement added a piquant and +pleasing variety to what is too often--especially when indulged in by +mediocre players--a very dull game. + +Worse was to follow, however. One day Eileen and the curate conducted +Excalibur to a neighboring mountain range--at least, so it appeared to +Excalibur--and played another ball game. This time they employed long +sticks with iron heads, and two balls, which, though they were much +smaller than tennis balls, were incredibly hard and painful. Excalibur, +though willing to help and anxious to please, could not supervise both +the balls at once. As sure as he ran to retrieve one the other came +after him and took him unfairly in the rear. Excalibur was the gentlest +of creatures, but the most perfect gentleman has his dignity to +consider. + +After having been struck for the third time by one of these balls he +whipped round, picked it up in his mouth and gave it a tiny pinch, just +as a warning. At least, he thought it was a tiny pinch. The ball +retaliated with unexpected ferocity. It twisted and turned. It emitted +long, snaky spirals of some elastic substance, which clogged his teeth +and tickled his throat and wound themselves round his tongue and nearly +choked him. Panic-stricken, he ran to his mistress, who, with weeping +and with laughter, removed the writhing horror from his jaws and +comforted him with fair words. + +After that Excalibur realized that it is wiser to walk behind golfers +than in front of them. It was a boring business, though, and very +exhausting, for he loathed exercise of every kind; and his only periods +of repose were the occasions on which the expedition came to a halt on +certain small, flat lawns, each of which contained a hole with a flag in +it. + +Here Excalibur would lie down, with the contented sigh of a tired child, +and go to sleep. As he almost invariably lay down between the hole and +the ball, the players agreed to regard him as a bunker. Eileen putted +round him; but the curate--who had little regard for the humbler works +of creation, Excalibur thought--used to take his mashie and attempt a +lofting shot, an enterprise in which he almost invariably failed, to +Excalibur's great inconvenience. + +Country walks were more tolerable, for Eileen's supervision of his +movements, which was usually marked by an officious severity, was +sensibly relaxed on these days and Excalibur found himself at liberty to +range abroad amid the heath and through the coppices, engaged in a +pastime that he imagined was hunting. + +One hot afternoon, wandering into a clearing, he encountered a hare. The +hare, which was suffering from extreme panic, owing to a terrifying +noise behind it,--the blast of the newest and most vulgar motor horn, to +be precise,--was bolting right across the clearing. After the manner of +hares where objects directly in front of them are concerned, the +fugitive entirely failed to perceive Excalibur and, indeed, ran right +underneath him on its way to cover. Excalibur was so unstrung by this +adventure that he ran back to where he had left Eileen and the curate. + +They were sitting side by side on the grass and the curate was holding +Eileen's hand. + +Excalibur advanced on them thankfully and indicated by an ingratiating +smile that a friendly remark or other recognition of his presence would +be gratefully received; but neither took the slightest notice of him. +They continued to gaze straight before them in a mournful and abstracted +fashion. They looked not so much at Excalibur as through him. First the +hare, then Eileen and the curate! Excalibur began to fear that he had +become invisible, or at least transparent. Greatly agitated he drifted +away into a neighboring plantation full of young pheasants. Here he +encountered a keeper, who was able to dissipate his gloomy suspicions +for him without any difficulty whatsoever. But Eileen and the curate sat +on. + +"A hundred pounds a year!" repeated the curate. "A pass degree and no +influence! I can't preach and I have no money of my own. Dearest, I +ought never to have told you." + +"Told me what?" inquired Eileen softly. She knew quite well; but she was +a woman, and a woman can never let well enough alone. + +The curate, turning to Eileen, delivered himself of a statement of three +words. Eileen's reply was a softly whispered _Tu quoque!_ + +"It had to happen, dear," she added cheerfully, for she did not share +the curate's burden of responsibility in the matter. "If you had not +told me we should have been miserable separately. Now that you have told +me, we can be miserable together. And when two people who--who--" She +hesitated. + +The curate supplied the relative sentence. Eileen nodded her head in +acknowledgment. + +"Yes; who are--like you and me--are miserable together, they are happy! +See?" + +"I see," said the curate gravely. "Yes, you are right there; but we +can't go on living on a diet of joint misery. We shall have to face the +future. What are we going to do about it?" + +Then Eileen spoke up boldly for the first time. + +"Gerald," she said, "we shall simply have to manage on a hundred a +year." + +But the curate shook his head. + +"Dearest, I should be an utter cad if I allowed you to do such a thing," +he said. "A hundred a year is less than two pounds a week!" + +"A lot of people live on less than two pounds a week," Eileen pointed +out longingly. + +"Yes; I know. If we could rent a three-shilling cottage and I could go +about with a spotted handkerchief round my neck, and you could scrub the +doorsteps _coram populo_, we might be very comfortable; but the clergy +belong to the black-coated class, and people in the lower ranks of the +black-coated class are the poorest people in the whole wide world. They +have to spend money on luxuries--collars and charwomen, and so +on--which a workingman can spend entirely on necessities. It wouldn't +merely mean no pretty dresses and a lot of hard work for you, Eileen. It +would mean starvation! Believe me--I know! Some of my friends have tried +it--and I know!" + +"What happened to them?" asked Eileen fearfully. + +"They all had to come down in the end--some soon, some late, but all in +time--to taking parish relief." + +"Parish relief?" + +"Yes; not official, regulation, rate-aided charity, but the infinitely +more humiliating charity of their well-to-do neighbors--quiet checks, +second-hand dresses, and things like that. No, little girl; you and I +are too proud--too proud of the cloth--for that. We will never give a +handle to the people who are always waiting to have a fling at the +improvident clergy--not if it breaks our hearts, we won't!" + +"You are quite right, dear," said Eileen quietly. "We must wait." + +Then the curate said the most difficult thing he had said yet:-- + +"I shall have to go away from here." + +Eileen's hand turned cold in his. + +"Why?" she whispered; but she knew. + +"Because if we wait here we shall wait forever. The last curate in Much +Moreham--what happened to him?" + +"He died." + +"Yes--at fifty-five; and he had been here for thirty years. Preferment +does not come in sleepy villages. I must go back to London." + +"The East End?" + +"East or south or north--it doesn't signify. Anywhere but west. In the +east and south and north there is always work to be done--hard work. And +if a parson has no money and no brains and no influence, and can only +work--run clothing clubs and soup kitchens, and reclaim +drunkards--London is the place for him. So off I go to London, my +beloved, to lay the foundations of Paradise for you and me--for you and +me!" + +There was a long silence. Then the pair rose to their feet and smiled on +each other extremely cheerfully, because each suspected the +other--rightly--of low spirits. + +"Shall we tell people?" asked the curate. + +Eileen thought, and shook her head. + +"No," she said; "nicer not. It will make a splendid secret." + +"Just between us two, eh?" said the curate, kindling at the thought. + +"Just between us two," agreed Eileen. And the curate kissed her very +solemnly. A secret is a comfortable thing to lovers, especially when +they are young and about to be lonely. + +At this moment a leonine head, supported on a lumbering and ill-balanced +body, was thrust in between them. It was Excalibur, taking sanctuary +with the Church from the vengeance of the Law. + +"We might tell Scally, I think," said Eileen. + +"Rather!" assented the curate. "He introduced us." + +So Eileen communicated the great news to Excalibur. + +"You do approve, dear--don't you?" she said. + +Excalibur, instinctively realizing that this was an occasion when +liberties might be taken, stood up on his hind legs and placed his +forepaws on his mistress's shoulders. The curate supported them both. + +"And you will use your influence to get us a living wage from +somewhere--won't you, old man?" added the curate. + +Excalibur tried to lick both their faces at once--and succeeded. + + + + +VI + + +SO the curate went away, but not to London. He was sent instead to a +great manufacturing town in the north, where the work was equally hard, +and where Anglican and Roman and Salvationist fought grimly side by side +against the powers of drink and disease and crime. During these days, +which ultimately rolled into years, the curate lost his boyish freshness +and his unfortunate tendency to put on flesh. He grew thin and lathy; +and, though his smile was as ready and as magnetic as ever, he seldom +laughed. + +He never failed, however, to write a cheerful letter to Eileen every +Monday morning. He was getting a hundred and twenty pounds a year now; +so his chances of becoming a millionaire had increased by twenty per +cent. + +Meantime his two confederates, Excalibur and Eileen, continued to reside +at Much Moreham. Eileen was still the recognized beauty of the district, +but she spread her net less promiscuously than of yore. Girl friends she +always had in plenty, but it was noticed that she avoided intimacy with +all eligible males of over twenty and under forty-five years of age. No +one knew the reason for this except Excalibur. Eileen used to read +Gerald's letters aloud to him every Tuesday morning; sometimes the +letter contained a friendly message to Excalibur himself. + +In acknowledgment of this courtesy Excalibur always sent his love to +the curate--Eileen wrote every Friday--and he and Eileen walked +together, rain or shine, on Friday afternoons to post the letter in the +next village. Much Moreham's post office was too small to remain +oblivious to such a regular correspondence. + +The curate was seen no more in his old parish. Railroad journeys are +costly things and curates' holidays rare. Besides, he had no overt +excuse for coming. And so life went on for five years. The curate and +Eileen may have met during that period, for Eileen sometimes went away +visiting. As Excalibur was not privileged to accompany her on these +occasions he had no means of checking her movements; but the chances are +that she never saw the curate, or I think she would have told Excalibur +about it. We simply have to tell some one. + +Then, quite suddenly, came a tremendous change in Excalibur's life. +Eileen's brother-in-law--he was Excalibur's master no longer, for +Excalibur had been transferred to Eileen by deed of gift, at her own +request, on her first birthday after the curate's departure--fell ill. +There was an operation and a crisis, and a deal of unhappiness at Much +Moreham; then came convalescence, followed by directions for a sea +voyage of six months. It was arranged that the house should be shut up +and the children sent to their grandmother at Bath. + +"That settles everything and everybody," said the gaunt man on the +sofa, "except you, Eileen? What about you?" + +"What about Scally?" inquired Eileen. + +Her brother-in-law apologetically admitted that he had forgotten Scally. + +"Not quite myself at present," he mentioned in extenuation. + +"I am going to Aunt Phoebe," announced Eileen. + +"You are never going to introduce Scally into Aunt Phoebe's +establishment!" cried Eileen's sister. + +"No," said Eileen, "I am not." She rubbed Excalibur's matted head +affectionately. "But I have arranged for the dear man's future. He is +going to visit friends in the north. Aren't you, darling?" + +Excalibur, to whom this arrangement had been privately communicated +some days before, wagged his tail and endeavored to look as intelligent +and knowing as possible. He was not going to put his beloved mistress to +shame by admitting to her relatives that he had not the faintest idea +what she was talking about. + +However, he was soon to understand. The next day Eileen took him up to +London by train. This in itself was a tremendous adventure, though +alarming at first. He traveled in the guard's van, it having been found +quite impossible to get him into an ordinary compartment--or, rather, to +get any one else into the compartment after he lay down on the floor. So +he traveled with the guard, chained to the vacuum brake, and shared that +kindly official's dinner. + +When they reached the terminus there was much bustle and confusion. The +door of the van was thrown open and porters dragged out the luggage and +submitted samples thereof to overheated passengers, who invariably +failed to recognize their own property and claimed someone else's. + +Finally, when the luggage was all cleared out, the guard took off +Excalibur's chain and facetiously invited him to alight for London Town. +Excalibur, lumbering delicately across the ribbed floor of the van, +arrived at the open doorway. Outside on the platform he espied Eileen. +Beside her stood a tall figure in black. + +With one tremendous roar of rapturous recognition, Excalibur leaped +straight out of the van and launched himself fairly and squarely at the +curate's chest. Luckily the curate saw him coming. + +"He knows you, all right," said Eileen with satisfaction. + +"He appears to," replied the curate. "Afraid I don't dance the tango, +Scally, old man; but thanks for the invitation, all the same!" + +Excalibur spent the rest of the day in London, where it must be admitted +he caused a genuine sensation--no mean feat in such a blase place. + +In Bond Street the traffic had to be held up both ways by benevolent +policemen, because Excalibur, feeling pleasantly tired, lay down to +rest. + +When evening came they all dined together in a cheap little restaurant +in Soho and were very gay, with the gayety of people who are whistling +to keep their courage up. After dinner Eileen said good-bye, first to +Excalibur and then to the curate. She was much more demonstrative toward +the former than toward the latter, which is the way of women. + +Then the curate put Eileen into a taxi and, having with the aid of the +commissionaire extracted Excalibur from underneath--he had gone there +under some confused impression that it was the guard's van again--said +good-bye for the last time; and Eileen, smiling bravely, was whirled +away out of sight. + +As the taxi turned a distant corner and disappeared from view, it +suddenly occurred to Excalibur that he had been left behind. Accordingly +he set off in pursuit. + +The curate finally ran him to earth in Buckingham Palace Road, which is +a long chase from Soho, where he was sitting on the pavement, to the +grave inconvenience of the inhabitants of Pimlico, and refusing to be +comforted. It took his new master the best part of an hour to get him to +Euston Road, where it was discovered they had missed the night mail to +the north. Accordingly they walked to a rival station and took another +train. + +In all this Excalibur was the instrument of Destiny, as you shall hear. + + + + +VII + + +THE coroner's jury was inclined at the time to blame the signalman, +but the Board of Trade inquiry established the fact that the accident +was due to the engine-driver's neglect to keep a proper lookout. +However, as the driver was dead and his fireman with him, the law very +leniently took no further action in the matter. + +About three o'clock in the morning, as the train was crossing a bleak +Yorkshire moor seven miles from Tetley Junction, the curate suddenly +left the seat on which he lay stretched dreaming of Eileen and flew +across the compartment on to the recumbent form of a stout commercial +traveler. Then he rebounded to the floor and woke up--unhurt. + +"'Tis an accident, lad!" gasped the commercial traveler as he got his +wind. + +"So it seems," said the curate. "Hold tight! She's rocking!" + +The commercial traveler, who was mechanically groping under the seat for +his boots,--commercial travelers always remove their boots in +third-class railroad compartments when on night journeys,--followed the +curate's advice and braced himself with his feet against the opposite +seat for the coming _bouleversement_. + +After the first shock the train had gathered way again--the light engine +into which it had charged had been thrown clear off the track--but only +for a moment. Suddenly the reeling engine of the express left the rails +and staggered drunkenly along the ballast. A moment later it turned +over, taking the guard's van and the first four coaches with it, and the +whole train came to a standstill. + +It was a corridor train, and unfortunately for Gerald Gilmore and the +commercial traveler their coach fell over corridor side downward. There +was no door on the other side of the compartment--only three windows, +crossed by a stout brass bar. These windows had suddenly become +sky-lights. + +They fought their way out at last. Once he got the window open, the +curate experienced little difficulty in getting through; but the +commercial traveler was corpulent and tenacious of his boots, which he +held persistently in one hand while Gerald tugged at the other. Still, +he was hauled up at last, and the two slid down the perpendicular roof +of the coach to the permanent way. + +"That's done, anyway!" panted the drummer; and sitting down he began to +put on his boots. + +"There's plenty more to do," said the curate grimly, pulling off his +coat. "The front of the train is on fire. Come!" + +He turned and ran. Almost at his first step he cannoned into a heavy +body in rapid motion. It was Excalibur. + +"That you, old friend?" observed the curate. "I was on my way to see +about you. Now that you are out, you may as well come and bear a hand." + +The pair sprinted along the line toward the blazing coaches. + + * * * * * + +It was dawn--gray, weeping, and cheerless--on Tetley Moor. Another +engine had come up from behind to take what was left of the train back +to the Junction. Seven coaches, including the lordly sleeping saloon, +stood intact; four, with the engine and tender, lay where they had +fallen, a mass of charred wood and twisted metal. + +A motor car belonging to a doctor stood in the roadway a hundred yards +off, and its owner, with a brother of the craft who had been a passenger +on the train, was attending to the injured. There were fourteen of these +altogether, mostly suffering from burns. These were made as comfortable +as possible in sleeping berths their owners had vacated. + +"Take your seats, please!" said the surviving guard in a subdued voice. +He spoke at the direction of a big man in a heavy overcoat, who appeared +to have taken charge of the salvage operations. The passengers clambered +up into the train. + +Only one hesitated. He was a long, lean young man, black from head to +foot with soot and oil. His left arm was badly burned; and seeing a +doctor disengaged at last, he came forward to have it dressed. + +The big man in the heavy overcoat approached him. + +"My name is Caversham," he said. "I happen to be a director of the +company. If you will give me your name and address I will see to it +that your services to-night are suitably recognized. The way you got +those two children out of the first coach was splendid, if I may be +allowed to say so. We did not even know they were there." + +The young man's teeth suddenly flashed out into a white smile against +the blackness of his face. + +"Neither did I, sir," he said. "Let me introduce you to the responsible +party." + +He whistled. Out of the gray dawn loomed an eerie monster, badly singed, +wagging its tail. + +"Scally, old man," said the curate, "this gentleman wants to present you +with an illuminated address. Thank him prettily!" Then, to the doctor: +"I'm ever so much obliged to you; it's quite comfortable now." + +He began stiffly to pull on his coat and waistcoat. Lord Caversham, +lending a hand, noted the waistcoat and said quickly:-- + +"Will you travel in my compartment? I should like to have a word with +you if I may." + +"I think I had better go and have a look at those poor folks in the +sleeper first," replied the curate. "They may require my services +professionally." + +"At the Junction, then, perhaps?" suggested Lord Caversham. + +At the Junction, however, the curate found a special waiting to proceed +north by a loop line; and, being in no mind to receive compliments or +waste his substance on a hotel, he departed forthwith, taking his +charred confederate, Excalibur, with him. + + + + +VIII + + +Fortune, once she takes a fancy to you, is not readily shaken off, +however, as most successful men are always trying to forget. A fortnight +later Lord Caversham, leaving his hotel in a great northern town, +encountered an acquaintance he had no difficulty whatever in +recognizing. + +It was Excalibur, jammed fast between two stationary tramcars--he had +not yet shaken down to town life--submitting to a painful but effective +process of extraction at the hands of a posse of policemen and tram +conductors, shrilly directed by a small but commanding girl of the +lodging-house-drudge variety. + +When this enterprise had been brought to a successful conclusion and +the congested traffic moved on by the overheated policemen, Lord +Caversham crossed the street and tapped the damsel on the shoulder. + +"Can you kindly inform me where the owner of that dog may be found?" he +inquired politely. + +"Yas. Se'nty-one Pilgrim Street. But 'e won't sell him." + +"Should I be likely to find him at home if I called now?" + +"Yas. Bin in bed since the accident. Got a nasty arm." + +"Perhaps you would not mind accompanying me back to Pilgrim Street in my +car?" + +After that Mary Ellen's mind became an incoherent blur. A stately +limousine glided up; Mary Ellen was handed in by a footman and +Excalibur was stuffed in after her in installments. The grand gentleman +entered by the opposite door and sat down beside her; but Mary Ellen was +much too dazed to converse with him. + +The arrival of the equipage in Pilgrim Street was the greatest moment of +Mary Ellen's life. + +Meantime upstairs in the first-floor front the curate, lying in his +uncomfortable flock bed, was saying:-- + +"If you really mean it, sir--" + +"I do mean it. If those two children had been burned to death unnoticed +I should never have forgiven myself, and the public would never have +forgiven the company." + +"Well, sir, since you say that, you--well, you could do me a service. +Could you possibly use your influence to get me a billet--I'm not +asking for an incumbency; any old curacy would do--a billet I could +marry on?" He flushed scarlet. "I--we have been waiting a long time +now." + +There was a long silence, and the curate wondered whether he had been +too mercenary in his request. Then Lord Caversham asked:-- + +"What are you getting at present?" + +"A hundred and twenty a year." + +This was about two thirds of the salary Lord Caversham paid his +chauffeur. He asked another question in his curious, abrupt staccato +manner:-- + +"How much do you want?" + +"We could make both ends meet on two hundred; but another fifty would +enable me to make her a lot more comfortable," said the curate +wistfully. + +The great man surveyed him silently--wonderingly, too, if the curate had +known. Presently he asked: + +"Afraid of hard work?" + +"No work is hard to a man with a wife and a home of his own," replied +the curate with simple fervor. + +Lord Caversham smiled grimly. He had more homes of his own than he could +conveniently live in, and he had been married three times; but even he +found work hard now and then. + +"I wonder!" he said. "Well, good-afternoon. I should like to be +introduced to your fiancee some day." + + + + +IX + + +A TRAMP opened the rectory gate and shambled up the neat gravel walk +toward the house. Taking a short cut through the shrubbery he emerged +suddenly on a little lawn. + +On the lawn a lady was sitting in a basket chair beside a perambulator, +the occupant of which was slumbering peacefully. A small but intensely +capable nursemaid, prone on the grass in a curvilinear attitude, was +acting as tunnel to a young gentleman of three who was impersonating a +locomotive. + +The tramp approached the group and asked huskily for alms. He was a +burly and unpleasant specimen of his class--a class all too numerous on +the outskirts of the great industrial parish of Smeltingborough. The +lady in the basket chair looked up. + +"The rector is out," she said. "If you go into the town you will find +him at the Church Hall and he will investigate your case." + +"Oh, the rector is out, is he?" repeated the tramp in tones of distinct +satisfaction. + +"Yes," said Eileen. + +The tramp advanced another pace. + +"Give us half a crown!" he said. "I haven't had a bite of food since +yesterday, lady--nor a drink neither," he added humorously. + +"Please go away!" said the lady. "You know where to find the rector." + +The tramp smiled unpleasantly, but made no attempt to move. + +"You refuse to go away?" the lady said. + +"I'll go for half a crown," replied the tramp with the gracious air of +one anxious to oblige a lady. + +"Watch baby for a moment, Mary Ellen," said Eileen. + +She rose and disappeared into the house, followed by the gratified smile +of the tramp. He was a reasonable man and knew that ladies did not wear +pockets. + +"Thirsty weather," he remarked affably. + +Mary Ellen, keeping one hand on the shoulder of Master Gerald Caversham +Gilmore and the other on the edge of the baby's perambulator, merely +chuckled sardonically. + +The next moment there were footsteps round the corner of the house and +Eileen reappeared. She was clinging with both hands to the collar of an +enormous dog. Its tongue lolled from its great jaws; its tail waved +menacingly from side to side; its great limbs were bent as though for a +spring. Its eyes were half closed as though to focus the exact distance. + +"Run!" cried Eileen to the tramp. "I can't hold him in much longer!" + +This was true enough, except that when Eileen said "in" she meant "up." +But the tramp did not linger to discuss grammar. There was a scurry of +feet, the gate banged and he was gone. + +With a sigh of relief Eileen let go of Excalibur's collar. Excalibur +promptly collapsed on the grass and went to sleep again. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SCALLY*** + + +******* This file should be named 28495.txt or 28495.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/4/9/28495 + + + +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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