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diff --git a/old/2876-h.htm b/old/2876-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f791204 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2876-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11315 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Light That Failed, by Rudyard Kipling + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Light That Failed, by Rudyard Kipling + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Light That Failed + +Author: Rudyard Kipling + +Release Date: December 23, 2008 [EBook #2876] +Last Updated: November 5, 2012 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHT THAT FAILED *** + + + + +Produced by David Reed, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE LIGHT THAT FAILED + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Rudyard Kipling + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + So we settled it all when the storm was done + As comf'y as comf'y could be; + And I was to wait in the barn, my dears, + Because I was only three; + And Teddy would run to the rainbow's foot, + Because he was five and a man; + And that's how it all began, my dears, + And that's how it all began. + + —Big Barn Stories. +</pre> + <p> + 'WHAT do you think she'd do if she caught us? We oughtn't to have it, you + know,' said Maisie. + </p> + <p> + 'Beat me, and lock you up in your bedroom,' Dick answered, without + hesitation. 'Have you got the cartridges?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; they're in my pocket, but they are joggling horribly. Do pin-fire + cartridges go off of their own accord?' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't know. Take the revolver, if you are afraid, and let me carry them.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not afraid.' Maisie strode forward swiftly, a hand in her pocket and + her chin in the air. Dick followed with a small pin-fire revolver. + </p> + <p> + The children had discovered that their lives would be unendurable without + pistol-practice. After much forethought and self-denial, Dick had saved + seven shillings and sixpence, the price of a badly constructed Belgian + revolver. Maisie could only contribute half a crown to the syndicate for + the purchase of a hundred cartridges. 'You can save better than I can, + Dick,' she explained; 'I like nice things to eat, and it doesn't matter to + you. Besides, boys ought to do these things.' + </p> + <p> + Dick grumbled a little at the arrangement, but went out and made the + purchase, which the children were then on their way to test. Revolvers did + not lie in the scheme of their daily life as decreed for them by the + guardian who was incorrectly supposed to stand in the place of a mother to + these two orphans. Dick had been under her care for six years, during + which time she had made her profit of the allowances supposed to be + expended on his clothes, and, partly through thoughtlessness, partly + through a natural desire to pain,—she was a widow of some years + anxious to marry again,—had made his days burdensome on his young + shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Where he had looked for love, she gave him first aversion and then hate. + </p> + <p> + Where he growing older had sought a little sympathy, she gave him + ridicule. The many hours that she could spare from the ordering of her + small house she devoted to what she called the home-training of Dick + Heldar. Her religion, manufactured in the main by her own intelligence and + a keen study of the Scriptures, was an aid to her in this matter. At such + times as she herself was not personally displeased with Dick, she left him + to understand that he had a heavy account to settle with his Creator; + wherefore Dick learned to loathe his God as intensely as he loathed Mrs. + Jennett; and this is not a wholesome frame of mind for the young. Since + she chose to regard him as a hopeless liar, when dread of pain drove him to his first untruth, he naturally developed into a liar, but an economical and + self-contained one, never throwing away the least unnecessary fib, and + never hesitating at the blackest, were it only plausible, that might make + his life a little easier. The treatment taught him at least the power of + living alone,—a power that was of service to him when he went to a + public school and the boys laughed at his clothes, which were poor in + quality and much mended. In the holidays he returned to the teachings of + Mrs. Jennett, and, that the chain of discipline might not be weakened by + association with the world, was generally beaten, on one account or + another, before he had been twelve hours under her roof. + </p> + <p> + The autumn of one year brought him a companion in bondage, a long-haired, + gray-eyed little atom, as self-contained as himself, who moved about the + house silently and for the first few weeks spoke only to the goat that was + her chiefest friend on earth and lived in the back-garden. Mrs. Jennett + objected to the goat on the grounds that he was un-Christian,—which + he certainly was. 'Then,' said the atom, choosing her words very + deliberately, 'I shall write to my lawyer-peoples and tell them that you + are a very bad woman. Amomma is mine, mine, mine!' Mrs. Jennett made a + movement to the hall, where certain umbrellas and canes stood in a rack. + The atom understood as clearly as Dick what this meant. 'I have been + beaten before,' she said, still in the same passionless voice; 'I have + been beaten worse than you can ever beat me. If you beat me I shall write + to my lawyer-peoples and tell them that you do not give me enough to eat. + I am not afraid of you.' Mrs. Jennett did not go into the hall, and the + atom, after a pause to assure herself that all danger of war was past, + went out, to weep bitterly on Amomma's neck. + </p> + <p> + Dick learned to know her as Maisie, and at first mistrusted her + profoundly, for he feared that she might interfere with the small liberty + of action left to him. She did not, however; and she volunteered no + friendliness until Dick had taken the first steps. Long before the + holidays were over, the stress of punishment shared in common drove the + children together, if it were only to play into each other's hands as they + prepared lies for Mrs. Jennett's use. When Dick returned to school, Maisie + whispered, 'Now I shall be all alone to take care of myself; but,' and she + nodded her head bravely, 'I can do it. You promised to send Amomma a grass + collar. Send it soon.' A week later she asked for that collar by return of + post, and wa not pleased when she learned that it took time to make. When + at last Dick forwarded the gift, she forgot to thank him for it. + </p> + <p> + Many holidays had come and gone since that day, and Dick had grown into a + lanky hobbledehoy more than ever conscious of his bad clothes. Not for a + moment had Mrs. Jennett relaxed her tender care of him, but the average + canings of a public school—Dick fell under punishment about three + times a month—filled him with contempt for her powers. 'She doesn't + hurt,' he explained to Maisie, who urged him to rebellion, 'and she is + kinder to you after she has whacked me.' Dick shambled through the days + unkempt in body and savage in soul, as the smaller boys of the school + learned to know, for when the spirit moved him he would hit them, + cunningly and with science. The same spirit made him more than once try to + tease Maisie, but the girl refused to be made unhappy. 'We are both + miserable as it is,' said she. 'What is the use of trying to make things + worse? Let's find things to do, and forget things.' + </p> + <p> + The pistol was the outcome of that search. It could only be used on the + muddiest foreshore of the beach, far away from the bathing-machines and + pierheads, below the grassy slopes of Fort Keeling. The tide ran out + nearly two miles on that coast, and the many-coloured mud-banks, touched + by the sun, sent up a lamentable smell of dead weed. It was late in the + afternoon when Dick and Maisie arrived on their ground, Amomma trotting + patiently behind them. + </p> + <p> + 'Mf!' said Maisie, sniffing the air. 'I wonder what makes the sea so + smelly? I don't like it!' + </p> + <p> + 'You never like anything that isn't made just for you,' said Dick bluntly. + 'Give me the cartridges, and I'll try first shot. How far does one of + these little revolvers carry?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, half a mile,' said Maisie, promptly. 'At least it makes an awful + noise. Be careful with the cartridges; I don't like those jagged stick-up + things on the rim. Dick, do be careful.' + </p> + <p> + 'All right. I know how to load. I'll fire at the breakwater out there.' + </p> + <p> + He fired, and Amomma ran away bleating. The bullet threw up a spurt of mud + to the right of the wood-wreathed piles. + </p> + <p> + 'Throws high and to the right. You try, Maisie. Mind, it's loaded all + round.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie took the pistol and stepped delicately to the verge of the mud, her + hand firmly closed on the butt, her mouth and left eye screwed up. + </p> + <p> + Dick sat down on a tuft of bank and laughed. Amomma returned very + cautiously. He was accustomed to strange experiences in his afternoon + walks, and, finding the cartridge-box unguarded, made investigations with + his nose. Maisie fired, but could not see where the bullet went. + </p> + <p> + 'I think it hit the post,' she said, shading her eyes and looking out + across the sailless sea. + </p> + <p> + 'I know it has gone out to the Marazion Bell-buoy,' said Dick, with a + chuckle. 'Fire low and to the left; then perhaps you'll get it. Oh, look + at Amomma!—he's eating the cartridges!' + </p> + <p> + Maisie turned, the revolver in her hand, just in time to see Amomma + scampering away from the pebbles Dick threw after him. Nothing is sacred + to a billy-goat. Being well fed and the adored of his mistress, Amomma had + naturally swallowed two loaded pin-fire cartridges. Maisie hurried up to + assure herself that Dick had not miscounted the tale. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, he's eaten two.' + </p> + <p> + 'Horrid little beast! Then they'll joggle about inside him and blow up, + and serve him right.... Oh, Dick! have I killed you?' + </p> + <p> + Revolvers are tricky things for young hands to deal with. Maisie could not + explain how it had happened, but a veil of reeking smoke separated her + from Dick, and she was quite certain that the pistol had gone off in his + face. Then she heard him sputter, and dropped on her knees beside him, + crying, 'Dick, you aren't hurt, are you? I didn't mean it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course you didn't, said Dick, coming out of the smoke and wiping his + cheek. 'But you nearly blinded me. That powder stuff stings awfully.' A + neat little splash of gray led on a stone showed where the bullet had + gone. Maisie began to whimper. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't,' said Dick, jumping to his feet and shaking himself. 'I'm not a + bit hurt.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, but I might have killed you,' protested Maisie, the corners of her + mouth drooping. 'What should I have done then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Gone home and told Mrs. Jennett.' Dick grinned at the thought; then, + softening, 'Please don't worry about it. Besides, we are wasting time. + </p> + <p> + We've got to get back to tea. I'll take the revolver for a bit.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie would have wept on the least encouragement, but Dick's + indifference, albeit his hand was shaking as he picked up the pistol, + restrained her. She lay panting on the beach while Dick methodically + bombarded the breakwater. 'Got it at last!' he exclaimed, as a lock of + weed flew from the wood. + </p> + <p> + 'Let me try,' said Maisie, imperiously. 'I'm all right now.' + </p> + <p> + They fired in turns till the rickety little revolver nearly shook itself + to pieces, and Amomma the outcast—because he might blow up at any + moment—browsed in the background and wondered why stones were thrown + at him. Then they found a balk of timber floating in a pool which was + commanded by the seaward slope of Fort Keeling, and they sat down together + before this new target. + </p> + <p> + 'Next holidays,' said Dick, as the now thoroughly fouled revolver kicked + wildly in his hand, 'we'll get another pistol,—central fire,—that + will carry farther.' + </p> + <p> + 'There won't be any next holidays for me,' said Maisie. 'I'm going away.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where to?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know. My lawyers have written to Mrs. Jennett, and I've got to be + educated somewhere,—in France, perhaps,—I don't know where; + but I shall be glad to go away.' + </p> + <p> + 'I shan't like it a bit. I suppose I shall be left. Look here, Maisie, is + it really true you're going? Then these holidays will be the last I shall + see anything of you; and I go back to school next week. I wish——' + </p> + <p> + The young blood turned his cheeks scarlet. Maisie was picking grass-tufts + and throwing them down the slope at a yellow sea-poppy nodding all by + itself to the illimitable levels of the mud-flats and the milk-white sea + beyond. + </p> + <p> + 'I wish,' she said, after a pause, 'that I could see you again sometime. + </p> + <p> + You wish that, too?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, but it would have been better if—if—you had—shot + straight over there—down by the breakwater.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie looked with large eyes for a moment. And this was the boy who only + ten days before had decorated Amomma's horns with cut-paper ham-frills and + turned him out, a bearded derision, among the public ways! Then she + dropped her eyes: this was not the boy. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't be stupid,' she said reprovingly, and with swift instinct attacked + the side-issue. 'How selfish you are! Just think what I should have felt + if that horrid thing had killed you! I'm quite miserable enough already.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why? Because you're going away from Mrs. Jennett?' + </p> + <p> + 'No.' + </p> + <p> + 'From me, then?' + </p> + <p> + No answer for a long time. Dick dared not look at her. He felt, though he + did not know, all that the past four years had been to him, and this the + more acutely since he had no knowledge to put his feelings in words. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know,' she said. 'I suppose it is.' + </p> + <p> + 'Maisie, you must know. I'm not supposing.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let's go home,' said Maisie, weakly. + </p> + <p> + But Dick was not minded to retreat. + </p> + <p> + 'I can't say things,' he pleaded, 'and I'm awfully sorry for teasing you + about Amomma the other day. It's all different now, Maisie, can't you see? + And you might have told me that you were going, instead of leaving me to + find out.' + </p> + <p> + 'You didn't. I did tell. Oh, Dick, what's the use of worrying?' + </p> + <p> + 'There isn't any; but we've been together years and years, and I didn't + know how much I cared.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't believe you ever did care.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I didn't; but I do,—I care awfully now, Maisie,' he gulped,—'Maisie, + darling, say you care too, please.' + </p> + <p> + 'I do, indeed I do; but it won't be any use.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why?' + </p> + <p> + 'Because I am going away.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, but if you promise before you go. Only say—will you?' A second + 'darling' came to his lips more easily than the first. There were few + endearments in Dick's home or school life; he had to find them by + instinct. Dick caught the little hand blackened with the escaped gas of + the revolver. + </p> + <p> + 'I promise,' she said solemnly; 'but if I care there is no need for + promising.' + </p> + <p> + 'And do you care?' For the first time in the past few minutes their eyes + met and spoke for them who had no skill in speech.... + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Dick, don't! Please don't! It was all right when we said + good-morning; but now it's all different!' Amomma looked on from afar. + </p> + <p> + He had seen his property quarrel frequently, but he had never seen kisses + exchanged before. The yellow sea-poppy was wiser, and nodded its head + approvingly. Considered as a kiss, that was a failure, but since it was + the first, other than those demanded by duty, in all the world that either + had ever given or taken, it opened to them new worlds, and every one of + them glorious, so that they were lifted above the consideration of any + worlds at all, especially those in which tea is necessary, and sat still, + holding each other's hands and saying not a word. + </p> + <p> + 'You can't forget now,' said Dick, at last. There was that on his cheek + that stung more than gunpowder. + </p> + <p> + 'I shouldn't have forgotten anyhow,' said Maisie, and they looked at each + other and saw that each was changed from the companion of an hour ago to a + wonder and a mystery they could not understand. The sun began to set, and + a night-wind thrashed along the bents of the foreshore. + </p> + <p> + 'We shall be awfully late for tea,' said Maisie. 'Let's go home.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let's use the rest of the cartridges first,' said Dick; and he helped + Maisie down the slope of the fort to the sea,—a descent that she was + quite capable of covering at full speed. Equally gravely Maisie took the + grimy hand. Dick bent forward clumsily; Maisie drew the hand away, and + Dick blushed. + </p> + <p> + 'It's very pretty,' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'Pooh!' said Maisie, with a little laugh of gratified vanity. She stood + close to Dick as he loaded the revolver for the last time and fired over + the sea with a vague notion at the back of his head that he was protecting + Maisie from all the evils in the world. A puddle far across the mud caught + the last rays of the sun and turned into a wrathful red disc. The light + held Dick's attention for a moment, and as he raised his revolver there + fell upon him a renewed sense of the miraculous, in that he was standing + by Maisie who had promised to care for him for an indefinite length of + time till such date as—— A gust of the growing wind drove the + girl's long black hair across his face as she stood with her hand on his + shoulder calling Amomma 'a little beast,' and for a moment he was in the + dark,—a darkness that stung. The bullet went singing out to the + empty sea. + </p> + <p> + 'Spoilt my aim,' said he, shaking his head. 'There aren't any more + cartridges; we shall have to run home.' But they did not run. They walked + very slowly, arm in arm. And it was a matter of indifference to them + whether the neglected Amomma with two pin-fire cartridges in his inside + blew up or trotted beside them; for they had come into a golden heritage + and were disposing of it with all the wisdom of all their years. + </p> + <p> + 'And I shall be——' quoth Dick, valiantly. Then he checked + himself: 'I don't know what I shall be. I don't seem to be able to pass + any exams, but I can make awful caricatures of the masters. Ho! Ho!' + </p> + <p> + 'Be an artist, then,' said Maisie. 'You're always laughing at my trying to + draw; and it will do you good.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'll never laugh at anything you do,' he answered. 'I'll be an artist, + and I'll do things.' + </p> + <p> + 'Artists always want money, don't they?' + </p> + <p> + 'I've got a hundred and twenty pounds a year of my own. My guardians tell + me I'm to have it when I come of age. That will be enough to begin with.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, I'm rich,' said Maisie. 'I've got three hundred a year all my own + when I'm twenty-one. That's why Mrs. Jennett is kinder to me than she is + to you. I wish, though, that I had somebody that belonged to me,—just + a father or a mother.' + </p> + <p> + 'You belong to me,' said Dick, 'for ever and ever.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, we belong—for ever. It's very nice.' She squeezed his arm. The + kindly darkness hid them both, and, emboldened because he could only just + see the profile of Maisie's cheek with the long lashes veiling the gray + eyes, Dick at the front door delivered himself of the words he had been + boggling over for the last two hours. + </p> + <p> + 'And I—love you, Maisie,' he said, in a whisper that seemed to him + to ring across the world,—the world that he would to-morrow or the + next day set out to conquer. + </p> + <p> + There was a scene, not, for the sake of discipline, to be reported, when + Mrs. Jennett would have fallen upon him, first for disgraceful + unpunctuality, and secondly for nearly killing himself with a forbidden + weapon. + </p> + <p> + 'I was playing with it, and it went off by itself,' said Dick, when the + powder-pocked cheek could no longer be hidden, 'but if you think you're + going to lick me you're wrong. You are never going to touch me again. + </p> + <p> + Sit down and give me my tea. You can't cheat us out of that, anyhow.' + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Jennett gasped and became livid. Maisie said nothing, but encouraged + Dick with her eyes, and he behaved abominably all that evening. Mrs. + Jennett prophesied an immediate judgment of Providence and a descent into + Tophet later, but Dick walked in Paradise and would not hear. Only when he + was going to bed Mrs. Jennett recovered and asserted herself. He had + bidden Maisie good-night with down-dropped eyes and from a distance. + </p> + <p> + 'If you aren't a gentleman you might try to behave like one,' said Mrs. + Jennett, spitefully. 'You've been quarrelling with Maisie again.' + </p> + <p> + This meant that the usual good-night kiss had been omitted. Maisie, white + to the lips, thrust her cheek forward with a fine air of indifference, and + was duly pecked by Dick, who tramped out of the room red as fire. That + night he dreamed a wild dream. He had won all the world and brought it to + Maisie in a cartridge-box, but she turned it over with her foot, and, + instead of saying 'Thank you,' cried—'Where is the grass collar you + promised for Amomma? Oh, how selfish you are!' + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Then we brought the lances down, then the bugles blew, + When we went to Kandahar, ridin' two an' two, + Ridin', ridin', ridin', two an' two, + Ta-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra, + All the way to Kandahar, ridin' two an' two. + + —Barrack-Room Ballad. +</pre> + <p> + 'I'M NOT angry with the British public, but I wish we had a few thousand + of them scattered among these rooks. They wouldn't be in such a hurry to + get at their morning papers then. Can't you imagine the regulation + householder—Lover of Justice, Constant Reader, Paterfamilias, and + all that lot—frizzling on hot gravel?' + </p> + <p> + 'With a blue veil over his head, and his clothes in strips. Has any man + here a needle? I've got a piece of sugar-sack.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'll lend you a packing-needle for six square inches of it then. Both my + knees are worn through.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why not six square acres, while you're about it? But lend me the needle, + and I'll see what I can do with the selvage. I don't think there's enough + to protect my royal body from the cold blast as it is. What are you doing + with that everlasting sketch-book of yours, Dick?' + </p> + <p> + 'Study of our Special Correspondent repairing his wardrobe,' said Dick, + gravely, as the other man kicked off a pair of sorely worn riding-breeches + and began to fit a square of coarse canvas over the most obvious open + space. He grunted disconsolately as the vastness of the void developed + itself. + </p> + <p> + 'Sugar-bags, indeed! Hi! you pilot man there! lend me all the sails for + that whale-boat.' + </p> + <p> + A fez-crowned head bobbed up in the stern-sheets, divided itself into + exact halves with one flashing grin, and bobbed down again. The man of the + tattered breeches, clad only in a Norfolk jacket and a gray flannel shirt, + went on with his clumsy sewing, while Dick chuckled over the sketch. + </p> + <p> + Some twenty whale-boats were nuzzling a sand-bank which was dotted with + English soldiery of half a dozen corps, bathing or washing their clothes. + A heap of boat-rollers, commissariat-boxes, sugar-bags, and flour- and + small-arm-ammunition-cases showed where one of the whale-boats had been + compelled to unload hastily; and a regimental carpenter was swearing aloud + as he tried, on a wholly insufficient allowance of white lead, to plaster + up the sun-parched gaping seams of the boat herself. + </p> + <p> + 'First the bloomin' rudder snaps,' said he to the world in general; 'then + the mast goes; an' then, s' 'help me, when she can't do nothin' else, she + opens 'erself out like a cock-eyes Chinese lotus.' + </p> + <p> + 'Exactly the case with my breeches, whoever you are,' said the tailor, + without looking up. 'Dick, I wonder when I shall see a decent shop again.' + </p> + <p> + There was no answer, save the incessant angry murmur of the Nile as it + raced round a basalt-walled bend and foamed across a rock-ridge half a + mile upstream. It was as though the brown weight of the river would drive + the white men back to their own country. The indescribable scent of Nile + mud in the air told that the stream was falling and the next few miles + would be no light thing for the whale-boats to overpass. The desert ran + down almost to the banks, where, among gray, red, and black hillocks, a + camel-corps was encamped. No man dared even for a day lose touch of the + slow-moving boats; there had been no fighting for weeks past, and + throughout all that time the Nile had never spared them. Rapid had + followed rapid, rock rock, and island-group island-group, till the rank + and file had long since lost all count of direction and very nearly of + time. They were moving somewhere, they did not know why, to do something, + they did not know what. Before them lay the Nile, and at the other end of + it was one Gordon, fighting for the dear life, in a town called Khartoum. + There were columns of British troops in the desert, or in one of the many + deserts; there were yet more columns waiting to embark on the river; there + were fresh drafts waiting at Assioot and Assuan; there were lies and + rumours running over the face of the hopeless land from Suakin to the + Sixth Cataract, and men supposed generally that there must be some one in + authority to direct the general scheme of the many movements. The duty of + that particular river-column was to keep the whale-boats afloat in the + water, to avoid trampling on the villagers' crops when the gangs 'tracked' + the boats with lines thrown from midstream, to get as much sleep and food + as was possible, and, above all, to press on without delay in the teeth of + the churning Nile. + </p> + <p> + With the soldiers sweated and toiled the correspondents of the newspapers, + and they were almost as ignorant as their companions. But it was above all + things necessary that England at breakfast should be amused and thrilled + and interested, whether Gordon lived or died, or half the British army + went to pieces in the sands. The Soudan campaign was a picturesque one, + and lent itself to vivid word-painting. Now and again a 'Special' managed + to get slain,—which was not altogether a disadvantage to the paper + that employed him,—and more often the hand-to-hand nature of the + fighting allowed of miraculous escapes which were worth telegraphing home + at eighteenpence the word. There were many correspondents with many corps + and columns,—from the veterans who had followed on the heels of the + cavalry that occupied Cairo in '82, what time Arabi Pasha called himself + king, who had seen the first miserable work round Suakin when the sentries + were cut up nightly and the scrub swarmed with spears, to youngsters + jerked into the business at the end of a telegraph-wire to take the places + of their betters killed or invalided. + </p> + <p> + Among the seniors—those who knew every shift and change in the + perplexing postal arrangements, the value of the seediest, weediest + Egyptian garron offered for sale in Cairo or Alexandria, who could talk a + telegraph-clerk into amiability and soothe the ruffled vanity of a newly + appointed staff-officer when press regulations became burdensome—was + the man in the flannel shirt, the black-browed Torpenhow. He represented + the Central Southern Syndicate in the campaign, as he had represented it + in the Egyptian war, and elsewhere. The syndicate did not concern itself + greatly with criticisms of attack and the like. It supplied the masses, + and all it demanded was picturesqueness and abundance of detail; for there + is more joy in England over a soldier who insubordinately steps out of + square to rescue a comrade than over twenty generals slaving even to + baldness at the gross details of transport and commissariat. + </p> + <p> + He had met at Suakin a young man, sitting on the edge of a recently + abandoned redoubt about the size of a hat-box, sketching a clump of + shell-torn bodies on the gravel plain. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you for?' said Torpenhow. The greeting of the correspondent is + that of the commercial traveller on the road. + </p> + <p> + 'My own hand,' said the young man, without looking up. 'Have you any + tobacco?' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow waited till the sketch was finished, and when he had looked at + it said, 'What's your business here?' + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing; there was a row, so I came. I'm supposed to be doing something + down at the painting-slips among the boats, or else I'm in charge of the + condenser on one of the water-ships. I've forgotten which.' + </p> + <p> + 'You've cheek enough to build a redoubt with,' said Torpenhow, and took + stock of the new acquaintance. 'Do you always draw like that?' + </p> + <p> + The young man produced more sketches. 'Row on a Chinese pig-boat,' + said he, sententiously, showing them one after another.—'Chief mate + dirked by a comprador.—Junk ashore off Hakodate.—Somali + muleteer being flogged.—Star-shelled bursting over camp at Berbera.—Slave-dhow + being chased round Tajurrah Bah.—Soldier lying dead in the moonlight + outside Suakin.—throat cut by Fuzzies.' + </p> + <p> + 'H'm!' said Torpenhow, 'can't say I care for Verestchagin-and-water + myself, but there's no accounting for tastes. Doing anything now, are + you?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. I'm amusing myself here.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow looked at the sketches again, and nodded. 'Yes, you're right to + take your first chance when you can get it.' + </p> + <p> + He rode away swiftly through the Gate of the Two War-Ships, rattled across + the causeway into the town, and wired to his syndicate, 'Got man here, + picture-work. Good and cheap. Shall I arrange? Will do letterpress with + sketches.' + </p> + <p> + The man on the redoubt sat swinging his legs and murmuring, 'I knew the + chance would come, sooner or later. By Gad, they'll have to sweat for it + if I come through this business alive!' + </p> + <p> + In the evening Torpenhow was able to announce to his friend that the + Central Southern Agency was willing to take him on trial, paying expenses + for three months. 'And, by the way, what's your name?' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'Heldar. Do they give me a free hand?' + </p> + <p> + 'They've taken you on chance. You must justify the choice. You'd better + stick to me. I'm going up-country with a column, and I'll do what I can + for you. Give me some of your sketches taken here, and I'll send 'em + along.' To himself he said, 'That's the best bargain the Central southern + has ever made; and they got me cheaply enough.' + </p> + <p> + So it came to pass that, after some purchase of horse-flesh and + arrangements financial and political, Dick was made free of the New and + Honourable Fraternity of war correspondents, who all possess the + inalienable right of doing as much work as they can and getting as much + for it as Providence and their owners shall please. To these things are + added in time, if the brother be worthy, the power of glib speech that + neither man nor woman can resist when a meal or a bed is in question, the + eye of a horse-cope, the skill of a cook, the constitution of a bullock, + the digestion of an ostrich, and an infinite adaptability to all + circumstances. But many die before they attain to this degree, and the + past-masters in the craft appear for the most part in dress-clothes when + they are in England, and thus their glory is hidden from the multitude. + </p> + <p> + Dick followed Torpenhow wherever the latter's fancy chose to lead him, and + between the two they managed to accomplish some work that almost satisfied + themselves. It was not an easy life in any way, and under its influence + the two were drawn ver closely together, for they ate from the same dish, + they shared the same water-bottle, and, most binding tie of all, their + mails went off together. It was Dick who managed to make gloriously drunk + a telegraph-clerk in a palm hut far beyond the Second Cataract, and, while + the man lay in bliss on the floor, possessed himself of some laboriously + acquired exclusive information, forwarded by a confiding correspondent of + an opposition syndicate, made a careful duplicate of the matter, and + brought the result to Torpenhow, who said that all was fair in love or war + correspondence, and built an excellent descriptive article from his + rival's riotous waste of words. It was Torpenhow who—but the tale of + their adventures, together and apart, from Philae to the waste wilderness + of Herawi and Muella, would fill many books. They had been penned into a + square side by side, in deadly fear of being shot by over-excited + soldiers; they had fought with baggage-camels in the chill dawn; they had + jogged along in silence under blinding sun on indefatigable little + Egyptian horses; and they had floundered on the shallows of the Nile when + the whale-boat in which they had found a berth chose to hit a hidden rock + and rip out half her bottom-planks. + </p> + <p> + Now they were sitting on the sand-bank, and the whale-boats were bringing + up the remainder of the column. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes,' said Torpenhow, as he put the last rude stitches into his + over-long-neglected gear, 'it has been a beautiful business.' + </p> + <p> + 'The patch or the campaign?' said Dick. 'Don't think much of either, + myself.' + </p> + <p> + 'You want the Euryalus brought up above the Third Cataract, don't you? and + eighty-one-ton guns at Jakdul? Now, I'm quite satisfied with my breeches.' + He turned round gravely to exhibit himself, after the manner of a clown. + </p> + <p> + 'It's very pretty. Specially the lettering on the sack. G.B.T. Government + Bullock Train. That's a sack from India.' + </p> + <p> + 'It's my initials,—Gilbert Belling Torpenhow. I stole the cloth on + purpose. + </p> + <p> + What the mischief are the camel-corps doing yonder?' Torpenhow shaded his + eyes and looked across the scrub-strewn gravel. + </p> + <p> + A bugle blew furiously, and the men on the bank hurried to their arms and + accoutrements. + </p> + <p> + '"Pisan soldiery surprised while bathing,"' remarked Dick, calmly. + </p> + <p> + 'D'you remember the picture? It's by Michael Angelo; all beginners copy + it. That scrub's alive with enemy.' + </p> + <p> + The camel-corps on the bank yelled to the infantry to come to them, and a + hoarse shouting down the river showed that the remainder of the column had + wind of the trouble and was hastening to take share in it. As swiftly as a + reach of still water is crisped by the wind, the rock-strewn ridges and + scrub-topped hills were troubled and alive with armed men. + </p> + <p> + Mercifully, it occurred to these to stand far off for a time, to shout and + gesticulate joyously. One man even delivered himself of a long story. The + camel-corps did not fire. They were only too glad of a little + breathing-space, until some sort of square could be formed. The men on the + sand-bank ran to their side; and the whale-boats, as they toiled up within + shouting distance, were thrust into the nearest bank and emptied of all + save the sick and a few men to guard them. The Arab orator ceased his + outcries, and his friends howled. + </p> + <p> + 'They look like the Mahdi's men,' said Torpenhow, elbowing himself into + the crush of the square; 'but what thousands of 'em there are! The tribes + hereabout aren't against us, I know.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then the Mahdi's taken another town,' said Dick, 'and set all these + yelping devils free to show us up. Lend us your glass.' + </p> + <p> + 'Our scouts should have told us of this. We've been trapped,' said a + subaltern. 'Aren't the camel guns ever going to begin? Hurry up, you men!' + </p> + <p> + There was no need of any order. The men flung themselves panting against + the sides of the square, for they had good reason to know that whoso was + left outside when the fighting began would very probably die in an + extremely unpleasant fashion. The little hundred-and-fifty-pound + camel-guns posted at one corner of the square opened the ball as the + square moved forward by its right to get possession of a knoll of rising + ground. All had fought in this manner many times before, and there was no + novelty in the entertainment; always the same hot and stifling formation, + the smell of dust and leather, the same boltlike rush of the enemy, the + same pressure on the weakest side, the few minutes of hand-to-hand + scuffle, and then the silence of the desert, broken only by the yells of + those whom their handful of cavalry attempted to pursue. They had become + careless. The camel-guns spoke at intervals, and the square slouched + forward amid the protesting of the camels. Then came the attack of three + thousand men who had not learned from books that it is impossible for + troops in close order to attack against breech-loading fire. + </p> + <p> + A few dropping shots heralded their approach, and a few horsemen led, but + the bulk of the force was naked humanity, mad with rage, and armed with + the spear and the sword. The instinct of the desert, where there is always + much war, told them that the right flank of the square was the weakest, + for they swung clear of the front. The camel-guns shelled them as they + passed and opened for an instant lanes through their midst, most like + those quick-closing vistas in a Kentish hop-garden seen when the train + races by at full speed; and the infantry fire, held till the opportune + moment, dropped them in close-packing hundreds. No civilised troops in the + world could have endured the hell through which they came, the living + leaping high to avoid the dying who clutched at their heels, the wounded + cursing and staggering forward, till they fell—a torrent black as + the sliding water above a mill-dam—full on the right flank of the + square. + </p> + <p> + Then the line of the dusty troops and the faint blue desert sky overhead + went out in rolling smoke, and the little stones on the heated ground and + the tinder-dry clumps of scrub became matters of surpassing interest, for + men measured their agonised retreat and recovery by these things, counting + mechanically and hewing their way back to chosen pebble and branch. There + was no semblance of any concerted fighting. For aught the men knew, the + enemy might be attempting all four sides of the square at once. Their + business was to destroy what lay in front of them, to bayonet in the back + those who passed over them, and, dying, to drag down the slayer till he + could be knocked on the head by some avenging gun-butt. + </p> + <p> + Dick waited with Torpenhow and a young doctor till the stress grew + unendurable. It was hopeless to attend to the wounded till the attack was + repulsed, so the three moved forward gingerly towards the weakest side of + the square. There was a rush from without, the short hough-hough of the + stabbing spears, and a man on a horse, followed by thirty or forty others, + dashed through, yelling and hacking. The right flank of the square sucked + in after them, and the other sides sent help. The wounded, who knew that + they had but a few hours more to live, caught at the enemy's feet and + brought them down, or, staggering into a discarded rifle, fired blindly + into the scuffle that raged in the centre of the square. + </p> + <p> + Dick was conscious that somebody had cut him violently across his helmet, + that he had fired his revolver into a black, foam-flecked face which + forthwith ceased to bear any resemblance to a face, and that Torpenhow had + gone down under an Arab whom he had tried to 'collar low,' and was turning + over and over with his captive, feeling for the man's eyes. The doctor + jabbed at a venture with a bayonet, and a helmetless soldier fired over + Dick's shoulder: the flying grains of powder stung his cheek. It was to + Torpenhow that Dick turned by instinct. The representative of the Central + Southern Syndicate had shaken himself clear of his enemy, and rose, wiping + his thumb on his trousers. The Arab, both hands to his forehead, screamed + aloud, then snatched up his spear and rushed at Torpenhow, who was panting + under shelter of Dick's revolver. Dick fired twice, and the man dropped + limply. His upturned face lacked one eye. The musketry-fire redoubled, but + cheers mingled with it. The rush had failed and the enemy were flying. If + the heart of the square were shambles, the ground beyond was a butcher's + shop. Dick thrust his way forward between the maddened men. The remnant of + the enemy were retiring, as the few—the very few—English + cavalry rode down the laggards. + </p> + <p> + Beyond the lines of the dead, a broad blood-stained Arab spear cast aside + in the retreat lay across a stump of scrub, and beyond this again the + illimitable dark levels of the desert. The sun caught the steel and turned + it into a red disc. Some one behind him was saying, 'Ah, get away, you + brute!' Dick raised his revolver and pointed towards the desert. His eye + was held by the red splash in the distance, and the clamour about him + seemed to die down to a very far-away whisper, like the whisper of a level + sea. There was the revolver and the red light.... and the voice of some + one scaring something away, exactly as had fallen somewhere before,—a + darkness that stung. He fired at random, and the bullet went out across + the desert as he muttered, 'Spoilt my aim. There aren't any more + cartridges. We shall have to run home.' He put his hand to his head and + brought it away covered with blood. + </p> + <p> + 'Old man, you're cut rather badly,' said Torpenhow. 'I owe you something + for this business. Thanks. Stand up! I say, you can't be ill here.' + </p> + <p> + Throughout the night, when the troops were encamped by the whale-boats, a + black figure danced in the strong moonlight on the sand-bar and shouted + that Khartoum the accursed one was dead,—was dead,—was dead,—that + two steamers were rock-staked on the Nile outside the city, and that of + all their crews there remained not one; and Khartoum was dead,—was + dead,—was dead! + </p> + <p> + But Torpenhow took no heed. He was watching Dick, who called aloud to the + restless Nile for Maisie,—and again Maisie! + </p> + <p> + 'Behold a phenomenon,' said Torpenhow, rearranging the blanket. 'Here is a + man, presumably human, who mentions the name of one woman only. And I've + seen a good deal of delirium, too.—Dick, here's some fizzy drink.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thank you, Maisie,' said Dick. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + So he thinks he shall take to the sea again + For one more cruise with his buccaneers, + To singe the beard of the King of Spain, + And capture another Dean of Jaen + And sell him in Algiers.—A Dutch Picture.—Longfellow +</pre> + <p> + THE SOUDAN campaign and Dick's broken head had been some months ended and + mended, and the Central Southern Syndicate had paid Dick a certain sum on + account for work done, which work they were careful to assure him was not + altogether up to their standard. Dick heaved the letter into the Nile at + Cairo, cashed the draft in the same town, and bade a warm farewell to + Torpenhow at the station. + </p> + <p> + 'I am going to lie up for a while and rest,' said Torpenhow. 'I don't know + where I shall live in London, but if God brings us to meet, we shall meet. + </p> + <p> + Are you starying here on the off-chance of another row? There will be none + till the Southern Soudan is reoccupied by our troops. Mark that. + </p> + <p> + Good-bye; bless you; come back when your money's spent; and give me your + address.' + </p> + <p> + Dick loitered in Cairo, Alexandria, Ismailia, and Port Said,—especially + Port Said. There is iniquity in many parts of the world, and vice in all, + but the concentrated essence of all the iniquities and all the vices in + all the continents finds itself at Port Said. And through the heart of + that sand-bordered hell, where the mirage flickers day long above the + Bitter Lake, move, if you will only wait, most of the men and women you + have known in this life. Dick established himself in quarters more riotous + than respectable. He spent his evenings on the quay, and boarded many + ships, and saw very many friends,—gracious Englishwomen with whom he + had talked not too wisely in the veranda of Shepherd's Hotel, hurrying war + correspondents, skippers of the contract troop-ships employed in the + campaign, army officers by the score, and others of less reputable trades. + </p> + <p> + He had choice of all the races of the East and West for studies, and the + advantage of seeing his subjects under the influence of strong excitement, + at the gaming-tables, saloons, dancing-hells, and elsewhere. For + recreation there was the straight vista of the Canal, the blazing sands, + the procession of shipping, and the white hospitals where the English + soldiers lay. He strove to set down in black and white and colour all that + Providence sent him, and when that supply was ended sought about for fresh + material. It was a fascinating employment, but it ran away with his money, + and he had drawn in advance the hundred and twenty pounds to which he was + entitled yearly. 'Now I shall have to work and starve!' thought he, and + was addressing himself to this new fate when a mysterious telegram arrived + from Torpenhow in England, which said, 'Come back, quick; you have caught + on. Come.' + </p> + <p> + A large smile overspread his face. 'So soon! that's a good hearing,' said + he to himself. 'There will be an orgy to-night. I'll stand or fall by my + luck. Faith, it's time it came!' He deposited half of his funds in the + hands of his well-known friends Monsieur and Madame Binat, and ordered + himself a Zanzibar dance of the finest. Monsieur Binat was shaking with + drink, but Madame smiles sympathetically—'Monsieur needs a chair, of + course, and of course Monsieur will sketch; Monsieur amuses himself + strangely.' + </p> + <p> + Binat raised a blue-white face from a cot in the inner room. 'I + understand,' he quavered. 'We all know Monsieur. Monsieur is an artist, as + I have been.' Dick nodded. 'In the end,' said Binat, with gravity, + 'Monsieur will descend alive into hell, as I have descended.' And he + laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'You must come to the dance, too,' said Dick; 'I shall want you.' + </p> + <p> + 'For my face? I knew it would be so. For my face? My God! and for my + degradation so tremendous! I will not. Take him away. He is a devil. Or at + least do thou, Celeste, demand of him more.' The excellent Binat began to + kick and scream. + </p> + <p> + 'All things are for sale in Port Said,' said Madame. 'If my husband comes + it will be so much more. Eh, 'how you call—'alf a sovereign.' + </p> + <p> + The money was paid, and the mad dance was held at night in a walled + courtyard at the back of Madame Binat's house. The lady herself, in faded + mauve silk always about to slide from her yellow shoulders, played the + piano, and to the tin-pot music of a Western waltz the naked Zanzibari + girls danced furiously by the light of kerosene lamps. Binat sat upon a + chair and stared with eyes that saw nothing, till the whirl of the dance + and the clang of the rattling piano stole into the drink that took the + place of blood in his veins, and his face glistened. Dick took him by the + chin brutally and turned that face to the light. Madame Binat looked over + her shoulder and smiled with many teeth. Dick leaned against the wall and + sketched for an hour, till the kerosene lamps began to smell, and the + girls threw themselves panting on the hard-beaten ground. Then he shut his + book with a snap and moved away, Binat plucking feebly at his elbow. 'Show + me,' he whimpered. 'I too was once an artist, even I!' Dick showed him the + rough sketch. 'Am I that?' he screamed. 'Will you take that away with you + and show all the world that it is I,—Binat?' He moaned and wept. + </p> + <p> + 'Monsieur has paid for all,' said Madame. 'To the pleasure of seeing + Monsieur again.' + </p> + <p> + The courtyard gate shut, and Dick hurried up the sandy street to the + nearest gambling-hell, where he was well known. 'If the luck holds, it's + an omen; if I lose, I must stay here.' He placed his money picturesquely + about the board, hardly daring to look at what he did. The luck held. + </p> + <p> + Three turns of the wheel left him richer by twenty pounds, and he went + down to the shipping to make friends with the captain of a decayed + cargo-steamer, who landed him in London with fewer pounds in his pocket + than he cared to think about. + </p> + <p> + A thin gray fog hung over the city, and the streets were very cold; for + summer was in England. + </p> + <p> + 'It's a cheerful wilderness, and it hasn't the knack of altering much,' + Dick thought, as he tramped from the Docks westward. 'Now, what must I + do?' + </p> + <p> + The packed houses gave no answer. Dick looked down the long lightless + streets and at the appalling rush of traffic. 'Oh, you rabbit-hutches!' + said he, addressing a row of highly respectable semi-detached residences. + 'Do you know what you've got to do later on? You have to supply me with + men-servants and maid-servants,'—here he smacked his lips,—'and + the peculiar treasure of kings. Meantime I'll find clothes and boots, and + presently I will return and trample on you.' He stepped forward + energetically; he saw that one of his shoes was burst at the side. As he + stooped to make investigations, a man jostled him into the gutter. 'All + right,' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'That's another nick in the score. I'll jostle you later on.' + </p> + <p> + Good clothes and boots are not cheap, and Dick left his last shop with the + certainty that he would be respectably arrayed for a time, but with only + fifty shillings in his pocket. He returned to streets by the Docks, and + lodged himself in one room, where the sheets on the bed were almost + audibly marked in case of theft, and where nobody seemed to go to bed at + all. When his clothes arrived he sought the Central Southern Syndicate for + Torpenhow's address, and got it, with the intimation that there was still + some money waiting for him. + </p> + <p> + 'How much?' said Dick, as one who habitually dealt in millions. + </p> + <p> + 'Between thirty and forty pounds. If it would be any convenience to you, + of course we could let you have it at once; but we usually settle accounts + monthly.' + </p> + <p> + 'If I show that I want anything now, I'm lost,' he said to himself. 'All I + need I'll take later on.' Then, aloud, 'It's hardly worth while; and I'm + going to the country for a month, too. Wait till I come back, and I'll see + about it.' + </p> + <p> + 'But we trust, Mr. Heldar, that you do not intend to sever your connection + with us?' + </p> + <p> + Dick's business in life was the study of faces, and he watched the speaker + keenly. 'That man means something,' he said. 'I'll do no business till + I've seen Torpenhow. There's a big deal coming.' So he departed, making no + promises, to his one little room by the Docks. And that day was the + seventh of the month, and that month, he reckoned with awful distinctness, + had thirty-one days in it! + </p> + <p> + It is not easy for a man of catholic tastes and healthy appetites to exist + for twenty-four days on fifty shillings. Nor is it cheering to begin the + experiment alone in all the loneliness of London. Dick paid seven + shillings a week for his lodging, which left him rather less than a + shilling a day for food and drink. Naturally, his first purchase was of + the materials of his craft; he had been without them too long. Half a + day's investigations and comparison brought him to the conclusion that + sausages and mashed potatoes, twopence a plate, were the best food. Now, + sausages once or twice a week for breakfast are not unpleasant. As lunch, + even, with mashed potatoes, they become monotonous. At dinner they are + impertinent. At the end of three days Dick loathed sausages, and, going + forth, pawned his watch to revel on sheep's head, which is not as cheap as + it looks, owing to the bones and the gravy. Then he returned to sausages + and mashed potatoes. Then he confined himself entirely to mashed potatoes + for a day, and was unhappy because of pain in his inside. Then he pawned + his waistcoat and his tie, and thought regretfully of money thrown away in + times past. There are few things more edifying unto Art than the actual + belly-pinch of hunger, and Dick in his few walks abroad,—he did not + care for exercise; it raised desires that could not be satisfied—found + himself dividing mankind into two classes,—those who looked as if + they might give him something to eat, and those who looked otherwise. 'I + never knew what I had to learn about the human face before,' he thought; + and, as a reward for his humility, Providence caused a cab-driver at a + sausage-shop where Dick fed that night to leave half eaten a great chunk + of bread. Dick took it,—would have fought all the world for its + possession,—and it cheered him. + </p> + <p> + The month dragged through at last, and, nearly prancing with impatience, + he went to draw his money. Then he hastened to Torpenhow's address and + smelt the smell of cooking meats all along the corridors of the chambers. + Torpenhow was on the top floor, and Dick burst into his room, to be + received with a hug which nearly cracked his ribs, as Torpenhow dragged + him to the light and spoke of twenty different things in the same breath. + </p> + <p> + 'But you're looking tucked up,' he concluded. + </p> + <p> + 'Got anything to eat?' said Dick, his eye roaming round the room. + </p> + <p> + 'I shall be having breakfast in a minute. What do you say to sausages?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, anything but sausages! Torp, I've been starving on that accursed + horse-flesh for thirty days and thirty nights.' + </p> + <p> + 'Now, what lunacy has been your latest?' + </p> + <p> + Dick spoke of the last few weeks with unbridled speech. Then he opened his + coat; there was no waistcoat below. 'I ran it fine, awfully fine, but I've + just scraped through.' + </p> + <p> + 'You haven't much sense, but you've got a backbone, anyhow. Eat, and talk + afterwards.' Dick fell upon eggs and bacon and gorged till he could gorge + no more. Torpenhow handed him a filled pipe, and he smoked as men smoke + who for three weeks have been deprived of good tobacco. + </p> + <p> + 'Ouf!' said he. 'That's heavenly! Well?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why in the world didn't you come to me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Couldn't; I owe you too much already, old man. Besides I had a sort of + superstition that this temporary starvation—that's what it was, and + it hurt—would bring me luck later. It's over and done with now, and + none of the syndicate know how hard up I was. Fire away. What's the exact + state of affairs as regards myself?' + </p> + <p> + 'You had my wire? You've caught on here. People like your work immensely. + I don't know why, but they do. They say you have a fresh touch and a new + way of drawing things. And, because they're chiefly home-bred English, + they say you have insight. You're wanted by half a dozen papers; you're + wanted to illustrate books.' + </p> + <p> + Dick grunted scornfully. + </p> + <p> + 'You're wanted to work up your smaller sketches and sell them to the + dealers. They seem to think the money sunk in you is a good investment. + </p> + <p> + Good Lord! who can account for the fathomless folly of the public?' + </p> + <p> + 'They're a remarkably sensible people.' + </p> + <p> + 'They are subject to fits, if that's what you mean; and you happen to be + the object of the latest fit among those who are interested in what they + call Art. Just now you're a fashion, a phenomenon, or whatever you please. + I appeared to be the only person who knew anything about you here, and I + have been showing the most useful men a few of the sketches you gave me + from time to time. Those coming after your work on the Central Southern + Syndicate appear to have done your business. You're in luck.' + </p> + <p> + 'Huh! call it luck! Do call it luck, when a man has been kicking about the + world like a dog, waiting for it to come! I'll luck 'em later on. I want a + place to work first.' + </p> + <p> + 'Come here,' said Torpenhow, crossing the landing. 'This place is a big + box room really, but it will do for you. There's your skylight, or your + north light, or whatever window you call it, and plenty of room to thrash + about in, and a bedroom beyond. What more do you need?' + </p> + <p> + 'Good enough,' said Dick, looking round the large room that took up a + third of a top story in the rickety chambers overlooking the Thames. A + pale yellow sun shone through the skylight and showed the much dirt of the + place. Three steps led from the door to the landing, and three more to + Torpenhow's room. The well of the staircase disappeared into darkness, + pricked by tiny gas-jets, and there were sounds of men talking and doors + slamming seven flights below, in the warm gloom. + </p> + <p> + 'Do they give you a free hand here?' said Dick, cautiously. He was Ishmael + enough to know the value of liberty. + </p> + <p> + 'Anything you like; latch-keys and license unlimited. We are permanent + tenants for the most part here. 'Tisn't a place I would recommend for a + Young Men's Christian Association, but it will serve. I took these rooms + for you when I wired.' + </p> + <p> + 'You're a great deal too kind, old man.' + </p> + <p> + 'You didn't suppose you were going away from me, did you?' Torpenhow put + his hand on Dick's shoulder, and the two walked up and down the room, + henceforward to be called the studio, in sweet and silent communion. They + heard rapping at Torpenhow's door. 'That's some ruffian come up for a + drink,' said Torpenhow; and he raised his voice cheerily. There entered no + one more ruffianly than a portly middle-aged gentleman in a satin-faced + frockcoat. His lips were parted and pale, and there were deep pouches + under the eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'Weak heart,' said Dick to himself, and, as he shook hands, 'very weak + heart. His pulse is shaking his fingers.' + </p> + <p> + The man introduced himself as the head of the Central Southern Syndicate + and 'one of the most ardent admirers of your work, Mr. + Heldar. I assure you, in the name of the syndicate, that we are immensely + indebted to you; and I trust, Mr. Heldar, you won't forget that we were + largely instrumental in bringing you before the public.' He panted because + of the seven flights of stairs. + </p> + <p> + Dick glanced at Torpenhow, whose left eyelid lay for a moment dead on his + cheek. + </p> + <p> + 'I shan't forget,' said Dick, every instinct of defence roused in him. + </p> + <p> + 'You've paid me so well that I couldn't, you know. By the way, when I am + settled in this place I should like to send and get my sketches. There + must be nearly a hundred and fifty of them with you.' + </p> + <p> + 'That is er—is what I came to speak about. I fear we can't allow it + exactly, Mr. Heldar. In the absence of any specified agreement, the + sketches are our property, of course.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you mean to say that you are going to keep them?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; and we hope to have your help, on your own terms, Mr. Heldar, to + assist us in arranging a little exhibition, which, backed by our name and + the influence we naturally command among the press, should be of material + service to you. Sketches such as yours——' + </p> + <p> + 'Belong to me. You engaged me by wire, you paid me the lowest rates you + dared. You can't mean to keep them! Good God alive, man, they're all I've + got in the world!' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow watched Dick's face and whistled. + </p> + <p> + Dick walked up and down, thinking. He saw the whole of his little stock in + trade, the first weapon of his equipment, annexed at the outset of his + campaign by an elderly gentleman whose name Dick had not caught aright, + who said that he represented a syndicate, which was a thing for which Dick + had not the least reverence. The injustice of the proceedings did not much + move him; he had seen the strong hand prevail too often in other places to + be squeamish over the moral aspects of right and wrong. + </p> + <p> + But he ardently desired the blood of the gentleman in the frockcoat, and + when he spoke again, and when he spoke again it was with a strained + sweetness that Torpenhow knew well for the beginning of strife. + </p> + <p> + 'Forgive me, sir, but you have no—no younger man who can arrange + this business with me?' + </p> + <p> + 'I speak for the syndicate. I see no reason for a third party to——' + </p> + <p> + 'You will in a minute. Be good enough to give back my sketches.' + </p> + <p> + The man stared blankly at Dick, and then at Torpenhow, who was leaning + against the wall. He was not used to ex-employees who ordered him to be + good enough to do things. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, it is rather a cold-blooded steal,' said Torpenhow, critically; 'but + I'm afraid, I am very much afraid, you've struck the wrong man. Be + careful, Dick; remember, this isn't the Soudan.' + </p> + <p> + 'Considering what services the syndicate have done you in putting your + name before the world——' + </p> + <p> + This was not a fortunate remark; it reminded Dick of certain vagrant years + lived out in loneliness and strife and unsatisfied desires. The memory did + not contrast well with the prosperous gentleman who proposed to enjoy the + fruit of those years. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know quite what to do with you,' began Dick, meditatively. 'Of + course you're a thief, and you ought to be half killed, but in your case + you'd probably die. I don't want you dead on this floor, and, besides, + it's unlucky just as one's moving in. Don't hit, sir; you'll only excite + yourself.' + </p> + <p> + He put one hand on the man's forearm and ran the other down the plump body + beneath the coat. 'My goodness!' said he to Torpenhow, 'and this gray oaf + dares to be a thief! I have seen an Esneh camel-driver have the black hide + taken off his body in strips for stealing half a pound of wet dates, and + he was as tough as whipcord. This things' soft all over—like a + woman.' + </p> + <p> + There are few things more poignantly humiliating than being handled by a + man who does not intend to strike. The head of the syndicate began to + breathe heavily. Dick walked round him, pawing him, as a cat paws a soft + hearth-rug. Then he traced with his forefinger the leaden pouches + underneath the eyes, and shook his head. 'You were going to steal my + things,—mine, mine, mine!—you, who don't know when you may + die. + </p> + <p> + Write a note to your office,—you say you're the head of it,—and + order them to give Torpenhow my sketches,—every one of them. Wait a + minute: your hand's shaking. Now!' He thrust a pocket-book before him. The + note was written. Torpenhow took it and departed without a word, while + Dick walked round and round the spellbound captive, giving him such advice + as he conceived best for the welfare of his soul. When Torpenhow returned + with a gigantic portfolio, he heard Dick say, almost soothingly, 'Now, I + hope this will be a lesson to you; and if you worry me when I have settled + down to work with any nonsense about actions for assault, believe me, I'll + catch you and manhandle you, and you'll die. You haven't very long to + live, anyhow. Go! Imshi, Vootsak,—get out!' The man departed, + staggering and dazed. Dick drew a long breath: 'Phew! what a lawless lot + these people are! The first thing a poor orphan meets is gang robbery, + organised burglary! Think of the hideous blackness of that man's mind! Are + my sketches all right, Torp?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; one hundred and forty-seven of them. Well, I must say, Dick, you've + begun well.' + </p> + <p> + 'He was interfering with me. It only meant a few pounds to him, but it was + everything to me. I don't think he'll bring an action. I gave him some + medical advice gratis about the state of his body. It was cheap at the + little flurry it cost him. Now, let's look at my things.' + </p> + <p> + Two minutes later Dick had thrown himself down on the floor and was deep + in the portfolio, chuckling lovingly as he turned the drawings over and + thought of the price at which they had been bought. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon was well advanced when Torpenhow came to the door and saw + Dick dancing a wild saraband under the skylight. + </p> + <p> + 'I builded better than I knew, Torp,' he said, without stopping the dance. + </p> + <p> + 'They're good! They're damned good! They'll go like flame! I shall have an + exhibition of them on my own brazen hook. And that man would have cheated + me out of it! Do you know that I'm sorry now that I didn't actually hit + him?' + </p> + <p> + 'Go out,' said Torpenhow,—'go out and pray to be delivered from the + sin of arrogance, which you never will be. Bring your things up from + whatever place you're staying in, and we'll try to make this barn a little + more shipshape.' + </p> + <p> + 'And then—oh, then,' said Dick, still capering, 'we will spoil the + Egyptians!' + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The wolf-cub at even lay hid in the corn, + When the smoke of the cooking hung gray: + He knew where the doe made a couch for her fawn, + And he looked to his strength for his prey. + + But the moon swept the smoke-wreaths away. + + And he turned from his meal in the villager's close, + And he bayed to the moon as she rose. + + —In Seonee. +</pre> + <p> + 'WELL, and how does success taste?' said Torpenhow, some three months + later. He had just returned to chambers after a holiday in the country. + </p> + <p> + 'Good,' said Dick, as he sat licking his lips before the easel in the + studio. + </p> + <p> + 'I want more,—heaps more. The lean years have passed, and I approve + of these fat ones.' + </p> + <p> + 'Be careful, old man. That way lies bad work.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow was sprawling in a long chair with a small fox-terrier asleep on + his chest, while Dick was preparing a canvas. A dais, a background, and a + lay-figure were the only fixed objects in the place. They rose from a + wreck of oddments that began with felt-covered water-bottles, belts, and + regimental badges, and ended with a small bale of second-hand uniforms and + a stand of mixed arms. The mark of muddy feet on the dais showed that a + military model had just gone away. The watery autumn sunlight was falling, + and shadows sat in the corners of the studio. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes,' said Dick, deliberately, 'I like the power; I like the fun; I like + the fuss; and above all I like the money. I almost like the people who + make the fuss and pay the money. Almost. But they're a queer gang,—an + amazingly queer gang!' + </p> + <p> + 'They have been good enough to you, at any rate. Than tin-pot exhibition + of your sketches must have paid. Did you see that the papers called it the + "Wild Work Show"?' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind. I sold every shred of canvas I wanted to; and, on my word, I + believe it was because they believed I was a self-taught flagstone artist. + </p> + <p> + I should have got better prices if I worked my things on wool or scratched + them on camel-bone instead of using mere black and white and colour. + Verily, they are a queer gang, these people. Limited isn't the word to + describe 'em. I met a fellow the other day who told me that it was + impossible that shadows on white sand should be blue,—ultramarine,—as + they are. I found out, later, that the man had been as far as Brighton + beach; but he knew all about Art, confound him. He gave me a lecture on + it, and recommended me to go to school to learn technique. I wonder what + old Kami would have said to that.' + </p> + <p> + 'When were you under Kami, man of extraordinary beginnings?' + </p> + <p> + 'I studied with him for two years in Paris. He taught by personal + magnetism. All he ever said was, "Continuez, mes enfants," and you had to + make the best you could of that. He had a divine touch, and he knew + something about colour. Kami used to dream colour; I swear he could never + have seen the genuine article; but he evolved it; and it was good.' + </p> + <p> + 'Recollect some of those views in the Soudan?' said Torpenhow, with a + provoking drawl. + </p> + <p> + Dick squirmed in his place. 'Don't! It makes me want to get out there + again. What colour that was! Opal and umber and amber and claret and + brick-red and sulphur—cockatoo-crest—sulphur—against + brown, with a nigger-black rock sticking up in the middle of it all, and a + decorative frieze of camels festooning in front of a pure pale turquoise + sky.' He began to walk up and down. 'And yet, you know, if you try to give + these people the thing as God gave it, keyed down to their comprehension + and according to the powers He has given you——' + </p> + <p> + 'Modest man! Go on.' + </p> + <p> + 'Half a dozen epicene young pagans who haven't even been to Algiers will + tell you, first, that your notion is borrowed, and, secondly, that it + isn't Art. + </p> + <p> + ''This comes of my leaving town for a month. Dickie, you've been + promenading among the toy-shops and hearing people talk.' + </p> + <p> + 'I couldn't help it,' said Dick, penitently. 'You weren't here, and it was + lonely these long evenings. A man can't work for ever.' + </p> + <p> + 'A man might have gone to a pub, and got decently drunk.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wish I had; but I forgathered with some men of sorts. They said they + were artists, and I knew some of them could draw,—but they wouldn't + draw. They gave me tea,—tea at five in the afternoon!—and + talked about Art and the state of their souls. As if their souls mattered. + I've heard more about Art and seen less of her in the last six months than + in the whole of my life. Do you remember Cassavetti, who worked for some + continental syndicate, out with the desert column? He was a regular + Christmas-tree of contraptions when he took the field in full fig, with + his water-bottle, lanyard, revolver, writing-case, housewife, gig-lamps, + and the Lord knows what all. He used to fiddle about with 'em and show us + how they worked; but he never seemed to do much except fudge his reports + from the Nilghai. See?' + </p> + <p> + 'Dear old Nilghai! He's in town, fatter than ever. He ought to be up here + this evening. I see the comparison perfectly. You should have kept clear + of all that man-millinery. Serves you right; and I hope it will unsettle + your mind.' + </p> + <p> + 'It won't. It has taught me what Art—holy sacred Art—means.' + </p> + <p> + 'You've learnt something while I've been away. What is Art?' + </p> + <p> + 'Give 'em what they know, and when you've done it once do it again.' + </p> + <p> + Dick dragged forward a canvas laid face to the wall. 'Here's a sample of + real Art. It's going to be a facsimile reproduction for a weekly. I called + it "His Last Shot." It's worked up from the little water-colour I made + outside El Maghrib. Well, I lured my model, a beautiful rifleman, up here + with drink; I drored him, and I redrored him, and I redrored him, and I + made him a flushed, dishevelled, bedevilled scallawag, with his helmet at + the back of his head, and the living fear of death in his eye, and the + blood oozing out of a cut over his ankle-bone. He wasn't pretty, but he + was all soldier and very much man.' + </p> + <p> + 'Once more, modest child!' + </p> + <p> + Dick laughed. 'Well, it's only to you I'm talking. I did him just as well + as I knew how, making allowance for the slickness of oils. Then the + art-manager of that abandoned paper said that his subscribers wouldn't + like it. It was brutal and coarse and violent,—man being naturally + gentle when he's fighting for his life. They wanted something more + restful, with a little more colour. I could have said a good deal, but you + might as well talk to a sheep as an art-manager. I took my "Last Shot" + back. Behold the result! I put him into a lovely red coat without a speck + on it. That is Art. I polished his boots,—observe the high light on + the toe. That is Art. I cleaned his rifle,—rifles are always clean + on service,—because that is Art. + </p> + <p> + I pipeclayed his helmet,—pipeclay is always used on active service, + and is indispensable to Art. I shaved his chin, I washed his hands, and + gave him an air of fatted peace. Result, military tailor's pattern-plate. + Price, thank Heaven, twice as much as for the first sketch, which was + moderately decent.' + </p> + <p> + 'And do you suppose you're going to give that thing out as your work?' + </p> + <p> + 'Why not? I did it. Alone I did it, in the interests of sacred, home-bred + Art and Dickenson's Weekly.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow smoked in silence for a while. Then came the verdict, delivered + from rolling clouds: 'If you were only a mass of blathering vanity, Dick, + I wouldn't mind,—I'd let you go to the deuce on your own mahl-stick; + but when I consider what you are to me, and when I find that to vanity you + add the twopenny-halfpenny pique of a twelve-year-old girl, then I bestir + myself in your behalf. Thus!' + </p> + <p> + The canvas ripped as Torpenhow's booted foot shot through it, and the + terrier jumped down, thinking rats were about. + </p> + <p> + 'If you have any bad language to use, use it. You have not. I continue. + </p> + <p> + You are an idiot, because no man born of woman is strong enough to take + liberties with his public, even though they be—which they ain't—all + you say they are.' + </p> + <p> + 'But they don't know any better. What can you expect from creatures born + and bred in this light?' Dick pointed to the yellow fog. 'If they want + furniture-polish, let them have furniture-polish, so long as they pay for + it. + </p> + <p> + They are only men and women. You talk as if they were gods.' + </p> + <p> + 'That sounds very fine, but it has nothing to do with the case. They are + the people you have to do work for, whether you like it or not. They are + your masters. Don't be deceived, Dickie, you aren't strong enough to + trifle with them,—or with yourself, which is more important. + </p> + <p> + Moreover,—Come back, Binkie: that red daub isn't going anywhere,—unless + you take precious good care, you will fall under the damnation of the + check-book, and that's worse than death. You will get drunk—you're + half drunk already—on easily acquired money. For that money and your + own infernal vanity you are willing to deliberately turn out bad work. + You'll do quite enough bad work without knowing it. And, Dickie, as I love + you and as I know you love me, I am not going to let you cut off your nose + to spite your face for all the gold in England. That's settled. Now + swear.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't know, said Dick. 'I've been trying to make myself angry, but I + can't, you're so abominably reasonable. There will be a row on Dickenson's + Weekly, I fancy.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why the Dickenson do you want to work on a weekly paper? It's slow + bleeding of power.' + </p> + <p> + 'It brings in the very desirable dollars,' said Dick, his hands in his + pockets. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow watched him with large contempt. 'Why, I thought it was a man!' + said he. 'It's a child.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, it isn't,' said Dick, wheeling quickly. 'You've no notion what the + certainty of cash means to a man who has always wanted it badly. + </p> + <p> + Nothing will pay me for some of my life's joys; on that Chinese pig-boat, + for instance, when we ate bread and jam for every meal, because Ho-Wang + wouldn't allow us anything better, and it all tasted of pig,—Chinese + pig. I've worked for this, I've sweated and I've starved for this, line on + line and month after month. And now I've got it I am going to make the + most of it while it lasts. Let them pay—they've no knowledge.' + </p> + <p> + 'What does Your Majesty please to want? You can't smoke more than you do; + you won't drink; you're a gross feeder; and you dress in the dark, by the + look of you. You wouldn't keep a horse the other day when I suggested, + because, you said, it might fall lame, and whenever you cross the street + you take a hansom. Even you are not foolish enough to suppose that + theatres and all the live things you can buy thereabouts mean Life. + </p> + <p> + What earthly need have you for money?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's there, bless its golden heart,' said Dick. 'It's there all the time. + </p> + <p> + Providence has sent me nuts while I have teeth to crack 'em with. I + haven't yet found the nut I wish to crack, but I'm keeping my teeth filed. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps some day you and I will go for a walk round the wide earth.' + </p> + <p> + 'With no work to do, nobody to worry us, and nobody to compete with? You + would be unfit to speak to in a week. Besides, I shouldn't go. I don't + care to profit by the price of a man's soul,—for that's what it + would mean. + </p> + <p> + Dick, it's no use arguing. You're a fool.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't see it. When I was on that Chinese pig-boat, our captain got credit + for saving about twenty-five thousand very seasick little pigs, when our + old tramp of a steamer fell foul of a timber-junk. Now, taking those pigs + as a parallel——' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, confound your parallels! Whenever I try to improve your soul, you + always drag in some anecdote from your very shady past. Pigs aren't the + British public; and self-respect is self-respect the world over. Go out + for a walk and try to catch some self-respect. And, I say, if the Nilghai + comes up this evening can I show him your diggings?' + </p> + <p> + 'Surely. You'll be asking whether you must knock at my door, next.' +And Dick departed, to take counsel with himself in the rapidly + gathering London fog. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour after he had left, the Nilghai laboured up the staircase. He + was the chiefest, as he was the youngest, of the war correspondents, and + his experiences dated from the birth of the needle-gun. Saving only his + ally, Keneu the Great War Eagle, there was no man higher in the craft than + he, and he always opened his conversation with the news that there would + be trouble in the Balkans in the spring. Torpenhow laughed as he entered. + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind the trouble in the Balkans. Those little states are always + screeching. You've heard about Dick's luck?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; he has been called up to notoriety, hasn't he? I hope you keep him + properly humble. He wants suppressing from time to time.' + </p> + <p> + 'He does. He's beginning to take liberties with what he thinks is his + reputation.' + </p> + <p> + 'Already! By Jove, he has cheek! I don't know about his reputation, but + he'll come a cropper if he tries that sort of thing.' + </p> + <p> + 'So I told him. I don't think he believes it.' + </p> + <p> + 'They never do when they first start off. What's that wreck on the ground + there?' + </p> + <p> + 'Specimen of his latest impertinence.' Torpenhow thrust the torn edges of + the canvas together and showed the well-groomed picture to the Nilghai, + who looked at it for a moment and whistled. + </p> + <p> + 'It's a chromo,' said he,—'a chromo-litholeomargarine fake! What + possessed him to do it? And yet how thoroughly he has caught the note that + catches a public who think with their boots and read with their elbows! + The cold-blooded insolence of the work almost saves it; but he mustn't go + on with this. Hasn't he been praised and cockered up too much? You know + these people here have no sense of proportion. They'll call him a second + Detaille and a third-hand Meissonier while his fashion lasts. It's windy + diet for a colt.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't think it affects Dick much. You might as well call a young wolf a + lion and expect him to take the compliment in exchange for a shin-bone. + </p> + <p> + Dick's soul is in the bank. He's working for cash.' + </p> + <p> + 'Now he has thrown up war work, I suppose he doesn't see that the + obligations of the service are just the same, only the proprietors are + changed.' + </p> + <p> + 'How should he know? He thinks he is his own master.' + </p> + <p> + 'Does he? I could undeceive him for his good, if there's any virtue in + print. He wants the whiplash.' + </p> + <p> + 'Lay it on with science, then. I'd flay him myself, but I like him too + much.' + </p> + <p> + 'I've no scruples. He had the audacity to try to cut me out with a woman + at Cairo once. I forgot that, but I remember now.' + </p> + <p> + 'Did he cut you out?' + </p> + <p> + 'You'll see when I have dealt with him. But, after all, what's the good? + Leave him alone and he'll come home, if he has any stuff in him, dragging + or wagging his tail behind him. There's more in a week of life than in a + lively weekly. None the less I'll slate him. I'll slate him ponderously in + the Cataclysm.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good luck to you; but I fancy nothing short of a crowbar would make Dick + wince. His soul seems to have been fired before we came across him. + </p> + <p> + He's intensely suspicious and utterly lawless.' + </p> + <p> + 'Matter of temper,' said the Nilghai. 'It's the same with horses. Some you + wallop and they work, some you wallop and they jib, and some you wallop + and they go out for a walk with their hands in their pockets.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's exactly what Dick has done,' said Torpenhow. 'Wait till he comes + back. In the meantime, you can begin your slating here. I'll show you some + of his last and worst work in his studio.' + </p> + <p> + Dick had instinctively sought running water for a comfort to his mood of + mind. He was leaning over the Embankment wall, watching the rush of the + Thames through the arches of Westminster Bridge. He began by thinking of + Torpenhow's advice, but, as of custom, lost himself in the study of the + faces flocking past. Some had death written on their features, and Dick + marvelled that they could laugh. Others, clumsy and coarse-built for the + most part, were alight with love; others were merely drawn and lined with + work; but there was something, Dick knew, to be made out of them all. The + poor at least should suffer that he might learn, and the rich should pay + for the output of his learning. Thus his credit in the world and his cash + balance at the bank would be increased. So much the better for him. He had + suffered. Now he would take toll of the ills of others. + </p> + <p> + The fog was driven apart for a moment, and the sun shone, a blood-red + wafer, on the water. Dick watched the spot till he heard the voice of the + tide between the piers die down like the wash of the sea at low tide. A + girl hard pressed by her lover shouted shamelessly, 'Ah, get away, you + beast!' and a shift of the same wind that had opened the fog drove across + Dick's face the black smoke of a river-steamer at her berth below the + wall. He was blinded for the moment, then spun round and found himself + face to face with—Maisie. + </p> + <p> + There was no mistaking. The years had turned the child to a woman, but + they had not altered the dark-gray eyes, the thin scarlet lips, or the + firmly modelled mouth and chin; and, that all should be as it was of old, + she wore a closely fitting gray dress. + </p> + <p> + Since the human soul is finite and not in the least under its own command, + Dick, advancing, said 'Halloo!' after the manner of schoolboys, and Maisie + answered, 'Oh, Dick, is that you?' Then, against his will, and before the + brain newly released from considerations of the cash balance had time to + dictate to the nerves, every pulse of Dick's body throbbed furiously and + his palate dried in his mouth. The fog shut down again, and Maisie's face + was pearl-white through it. No word was spoken, but Dick fell into step at + her side, and the two paced the Embankment together, keeping the step as + perfectly as in their afternoon excursions to the mud-flats. Then Dick, a + little hoarsely—'What has happened to Amomma?' + </p> + <p> + 'He died, Dick. Not cartridges; over-eating. He was always greedy. Isn't + it funny?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. No. Do you mean Amomma?' + </p> + <p> + 'Ye—es. No. This. Where have you come from?' + </p> + <p> + 'Over there,' He pointed eastward through the fog. 'And you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I'm in the north,—the black north, across all the Park. I am + very busy.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you do?' + </p> + <p> + 'I paint a great deal. That's all I have to do.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what's happened? You had three hundred a year.' + </p> + <p> + 'I have that still. I am painting; that's all.' + </p> + <p> + 'Are you alone, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'There's a girl living with me. Don't walk so fast, Dick; you're out of + step.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then you noticed it too?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course I did. You're always out of step.' + </p> + <p> + 'So I am. I'm sorry. You went on with the painting?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course. I said I should. I was at the Slade, then at Merton's in St. + </p> + <p> + John's Wood, the big studio, then I pepper-potted,—I mean I went to + the National,—and now I'm working under Kami.' + </p> + <p> + 'But Kami is in Paris surely?' + </p> + <p> + 'No; he has his teaching studio in Vitry-sur-Marne. I work with him in the + summer, and I live in London in the winter. I'm a householder.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you sell much?' + </p> + <p> + 'Now and again, but not often. There is my 'bus. I must take it or lose + half an hour. Good-bye, Dick.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye, Maisie. Won't you tell me where you live? I must see you again; + and perhaps I could help you. I—I paint a little myself.' + </p> + <p> + 'I may be in the Park to-morrow, if there is no working light. I walk from + the Marble Arch down and back again; that is my little excursion. But of + course I shall see you again.' She stepped into the omnibus and was + swallowed up by the fog. + </p> + <p> + 'Well—I—am—damned!' exclaimed Dick, and returned to the + chambers. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow and the Nilghai found him sitting on the steps to the studio + door, repeating the phrase with an awful gravity. + </p> + <p> + 'You'll be more damned when I'm done with you,' said the Nilghai, + upheaving his bulk from behind Torpenhow's shoulder and waving a sheaf of + half-dry manuscript. 'Dick, it is of common report that you are suffering + from swelled head.' + </p> + <p> + 'Halloo, Nilghai. Back again? How are the Balkans and all the little + Balkans? One side of your face is out of drawing, as usual.' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind that. I am commissioned to smite you in print. Torpenhow + refuses from false delicacy. I've been overhauling the pot-boilers in your + studio. They are simply disgraceful.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oho! that's it, is it? If you think you can slate me, you're wrong. You + can only describe, and you need as much room to turn in, on paper, as a P. + and O. cargo-boat. But continue, and be swift. I'm going to bed.' + </p> + <p> + 'H'm! h'm! h'm! The first part only deals with your pictures. Here's the + peroration: "For work done without conviction, for power wasted on + trivialities, for labour expended with levity for the deliberate purpose + of winning the easy applause of a fashion-driven public——" + 'That's "His Last Shot," second edition. Go on.' + </p> + <p> + '——"public, there remains but one end,—the oblivion that + is preceded by toleration and cenotaphed with contempt. From that fate Mr. + Heldar has yet to prove himself out of danger.' + </p> + <p> + 'Wow—wow—wow—wow—wow!' said Dick, profanely. 'It's + a clumsy ending and vile journalese, but it's quite true. And yet,'—he + sprang to his feet and snatched at the manuscript,—'you scarred, + deboshed, battered old gladiator! you're sent out when a war begins, to + minister to the blind, brutal, British public's bestial thirst for blood. + They have no arenas now, but they must have special correspondents. You're + a fat gladiator who comes up through a trap-door and talks of what he's + seen. You stand on precisely the same level as an energetic bishop, an + affable actress, a devastating cyclone, or—mine own sweet self. And + you presume to lecture me about my work! Nilghai, if it were worth while + I'd caricature you in four papers!' + </p> + <p> + The Nilghai winced. He had not thought of this. + </p> + <p> + 'As it is, I shall take this stuff and tear it small—so!' The + manuscript fluttered in slips down the dark well of the staircase. 'Go + home, Nilghai,' said Dick; 'go home to your lonely little bed, and leave + me in peace. I am about to turn in till to-morrow.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, it isn't seven yet!' said Torpenhow, with amazement. + </p> + <p> + 'It shall be two in the morning, if I choose,' said Dick, backing to the + studio door. 'I go to grapple with a serious crisis, and I shan't want any + dinner.' + </p> + <p> + The door shut and was locked. + </p> + <p> + 'What can you do with a man like that?' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'Leave him alone. He's as mad as a hatter.' + </p> + <p> + At eleven there was a kicking on the studio door. 'Is the Nilghai with you + still?' said a voice from within. 'Then tell him he might have condensed + the whole of his lumbering nonsense into an epigram: "Only the free are + bond, and only the bond are free." Tell him he's an idiot, Torp, and tell + him I'm another.' + </p> + <p> + 'All right. Come out and have supper. You're smoking on an empty stomach.' + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'I have a thousand men,' said he, + 'To wait upon my will, + And towers nine upon the Tyne, + And three upon the Till.' + + 'And what care I for you men,' said she, + 'Or towers from Tyne to Till, + Sith you must go with me,' she said, + 'To wait upon my will?' + + Sir Hoggie and the Fairies +</pre> + <p> + NEXT morning Torpenhow found Dick sunk in deepest repose of tobacco. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, madman, how d'you feel?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know. I'm trying to find out.' + </p> + <p> + 'You had much better do some work.' + </p> + <p> + 'Maybe; but I'm in no hurry. I've made a discovery. Torp, there's too much + Ego in my Cosmos.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not really! Is this revelation due to my lectures, or the Nilghai's?' + </p> + <p> + 'It came to me suddenly, all on my own account. Much too much Ego; and now + I'm going to work.' + </p> + <p> + He turned over a few half-finished sketches, drummed on a new canvas, + cleaned three brushes, set Binkie to bite the toes of the lay figure, + rattled through his collection of arms and accoutrements, and then went + out abruptly, declaring that he had done enough for the day. + </p> + <p> + 'This is positively indecent,' said Torpenhow, 'and the first time that + Dick has ever broken up a light morning. Perhaps he has found out that he + has a soul, or an artistic temperament, or something equally valuable. + </p> + <p> + That comes of leaving him alone for a month. Perhaps he has been going out + of evenings. I must look to this.' He rang for the bald-headed old + housekeeper, whom nothing could astonish or annoy. + </p> + <p> + 'Beeton, did Mr. Heldar dine out at all while I was out of town?' + </p> + <p> + 'Never laid 'is dress-clothes out once, sir, all the time. Mostly 'e dined + in; but 'e brought some most remarkable young gentlemen up 'ere after + theatres once or twice. Remarkable fancy they was. You gentlemen on the + top floor does very much as you likes, but it do seem to me, sir, droppin' + a walkin'-stick down five flights o' stairs an' then goin' down four + abreast to pick it up again at half-past two in the mornin', singin,' + "Bring back the whiskey, Willie darlin,'"—not once or twice, but + scores o' times,—isn't charity to the other tenants. What I say is, + "Do as you would be done by." That's my motto.' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course! of course! I'm afraid the top floor isn't the quietest in the + house.' + </p> + <p> + 'I make no complaints, sir. I have spoke to Mr. Heldar friendly, an' he + laughed, an' did me a picture of the missis that is as good as a coloured + print. It 'asn't the high shine of a photograph, but what I say is, "Never + look a gift-horse in the mouth." Mr. Heldar's dress-clothes 'aven't been + on him for weeks.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then it's all right,' said Torpenhow to himself. 'Orgies are healthy, and + Dick has a head of his own, but when it comes to women making eyes I'm not + so certain,—Binkie, never you be a man, little dorglums. They're + contrary brutes, and they do things without any reason.' + </p> + <p> + Dick had turned northward across the Park, but he was walking in the + spirit on the mud-flats with Maisie. He laughed aloud as he remembered the + day when he had decked Amomma's horns with the ham-frills, and Maisie, + white with rage, had cuffed him. How long those four years seemed in + review, and how closely Maisie was connected with every hour of them! + Storm across the sea, and Maisie in a gray dress on the beach, sweeping + her drenched hair out of her eyes and laughing at the homeward race of the + fishing-smacks; hot sunshine on the mud-flats, and Maisie sniffing + scornfully, with her chin in the air; Maisie flying before the wind that + threshed the foreshore and drove the sand like small shot about her ears; + Maisie, very composed and independent, telling lies to Mrs. Jennett while + Dick supported her with coarser perjuries; Maisie picking her way + delicately from stone to stone, a pistol in her hand and her teeth + firm-set; and Maisie in a gray dress sitting on the grass between the + mouth of a cannon and a nodding yellow sea-poppy. The pictures passed + before him one by one, and the last stayed the longest. + </p> + <p> + Dick was perfectly happy with a quiet peace that was as new to his mind as + it was foreign to his experiences. It never occurred to him that there + might be other calls upon his time than loafing across the Park in the + forenoon. + </p> + <p> + 'There's a good working light now,' he said, watching his shadow placidly. + 'Some poor devil ought to be grateful for this. And there's Maisie.' + </p> + <p> + She was walking towards him from the Marble Arch, and he saw that no + mannerism of her gait had been changed. It was good to find her still + Maisie, and, so to speak, his next-door neighbour. No greeting passed + between them, because there had been none in the old days. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you doing out of your studio at this hour?' said Dick, as one + who was entitled to ask. + </p> + <p> + 'Idling. Just idling. I got angry with a chin and scraped it out. Then I + left it in a little heap of paint-chips and came away.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know what palette-knifing means. What was the piccy?' + </p> + <p> + 'A fancy head that wouldn't come right,—horrid thing!' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't like working over scraped paint when I'm doing flesh. The grain + comes up woolly as the paint dries.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not if you scrape properly.' Maisie waved her hand to illustrate her + methods. There was a dab of paint on the white cuff. Dick laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'You're as untidy as ever.' + </p> + <p> + 'That comes well from you. Look at your own cuff.' + </p> + <p> + 'By Jove, yes! It's worse than yours. I don't think we've much altered in + anything. Let's see, though.' He looked at Maisie critically. The pale + blue haze of an autumn day crept between the tree-trunks of the Park and + made a background for the gray dress, the black velvet toque above the + black hair, and the resolute profile. + </p> + <p> + 'No, there's nothing changed. How good it is! D'you remember when I + fastened your hair into the snap of a hand-bag?' + </p> + <p> + Maisie nodded, with a twinkle in her eyes, and turned her full face to + Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'Wait a minute,' said he. 'That mouth is down at the corners a little. + </p> + <p> + Who's been worrying you, Maisie?' + </p> + <p> + 'No one but myself. I never seem to get on with my work, and yet I try + hard enough, and Kami says——' + </p> + <p> + '"Continuez, mesdemoiselles. Continuez toujours, mes enfants." Kami is + depressing. I beg your pardon.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, that's what he says. He told me last summer that I was doing better + and he'd let me exhibit this year.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not in this place, surely?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course not. The Salon.' + </p> + <p> + 'You fly high.' + </p> + <p> + 'I've been beating my wings long enough. Where do you exhibit, Dick?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't exhibit. I sell.' + </p> + <p> + 'What is your line, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Haven't you heard?' Dick's eyes opened. Was this thing possible? He cast + about for some means of conviction. They were not far from the Marble + Arch. 'Come up Oxford Street a little and I'll show you.' + </p> + <p> + A small knot of people stood round a print-shop that Dick knew well. + </p> + <p> + 'Some reproduction of my work inside,' he said, with suppressed triumph. + Never before had success tasted so sweet upon the tongue. 'You see the + sort of things I paint. D'you like it?' + </p> + <p> + Maisie looked at the wild whirling rush of a field-battery going into + action under fire. Two artillery-men stood behind her in the crowd. + </p> + <p> + 'They've chucked the off lead-'orse' said one to the other. ''E's tore up + awful, but they're makin' good time with the others. That lead-driver + drives better nor you, Tom. See 'ow cunnin' 'e's nursin' 'is 'orse.' + </p> + <p> + 'Number Three'll be off the limber, next jolt,' was the answer. + </p> + <p> + 'No, 'e won't. See 'ow 'is foot's braced against the iron? 'E's all + right.' + </p> + <p> + Dick watched Maisie's face and swelled with joy—fine, rank, vulgar + triumph. She was more interested in the little crowd than in the picture. + </p> + <p> + That was something that she could understand. + </p> + <p> + 'And I wanted it so! Oh, I did want it so!' she said at last, under her + breath. + </p> + <p> + 'Me,—all me!' said Dick, placidly. 'Look at their faces. It hits + 'em. They don't know what makes their eyes and mouths open; but I know. + And I know my work's right.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. I see. Oh, what a thing to have come to one!' + </p> + <p> + 'Come to one, indeed! I had to go out and look for it. What do you think?' + </p> + <p> + 'I call it success. Tell me how you got it.' + </p> + <p> + They returned to the Park, and Dick delivered himself of the saga of his + own doings, with all the arrogance of a young man speaking to a woman. + </p> + <p> + From the beginning he told the tale, the I—I—I's flashing + through the records as telegraph-poles fly past the traveller. Maisie + listened and nodded her head. The histories of strife and privation did + not move her a hair's-breadth. At the end of each canto he would conclude, + 'And that gave me some notion of handling colour,' or light, or whatever + it might be that he had set out to pursue and understand. He led her + breathless across half the world, speaking as he had never spoken in his + life before. + </p> + <p> + And in the flood-tide of his exaltation there came upon him a great desire + to pick up this maiden who nodded her head and said, 'I understand. Go + on,'—to pick her up and carry her away with him, because she was + Maisie, and because she understood, and because she was his right, and a + woman to be desired above all women. + </p> + <p> + Then he checked himself abruptly. 'And so I took all I wanted,' he said, + 'and I had to fight for it. Now you tell.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie's tale was almost as gray as her dress. It covered years of patient + toil backed by savage pride that would not be broken thought dealers + laughed, and fogs delayed work, and Kami was unkind and even sarcastic, + and girls in other studios were painfully polite. It had a few bright + spots, in pictures accepted at provincial exhibitions, but it wound up + with the oft repeated wail, 'And so you see, Dick, I had no success, + though I worked so hard.' + </p> + <p> + Then pity filled Dick. Even thus had Maisie spoken when she could not hit + the breakwater, half an hour before she had kissed him. And that had + happened yesterday. + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind,' he said. 'I'll tell you something, if you'll believe it.' + The words were shaping themselves of their own accord. 'The whole thing, + lock, stock, and barrel, isn't worth one big yellow sea-poppy below Fort + Keeling.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie flushed a little. 'It's all very well for you to talk, but you've + had the success and I haven't.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let me talk, then. I know you'll understand. Maisie, dear, it sounds a + bit absurd, but those ten years never existed, and I've come back again. + It really is just the same. Can't you see? You're alone now and I'm alone. + </p> + <p> + What's the use of worrying? Come to me instead, darling.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie poked the gravel with her parasol. They were sitting on a bench. + </p> + <p> + 'I understand,' she said slowly. 'But I've got my work to do, and I must + do it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do it with me, then, dear. I won't interrupt.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I couldn't. It's my work,—mine,—mine,—mine! I've + been alone all my life in myself, and I'm not going to belong to anybody + except myself. I remember things as well as you do, but that doesn't + count. We were babies then, and we didn't know what was before us. Dick, + don't be selfish. I think I see my way to a little success next year. + Don't take it away from me.' + </p> + <p> + 'I beg your pardon, darling. It's my fault for speaking stupidly. I can't + expect you to throw up all your life just because I'm back. I'll go to my + own place and wait a little.' + </p> + <p> + 'But, Dick, I don't want you to—go—out of—my life, now + you've just come back.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm at your orders; forgive me.' Dick devoured the troubled little face + with his eyes. There was triumph in them, because he could not conceive + that Maisie should refuse sooner or later to love him, since he loved her. + </p> + <p> + 'It's wrong of me,' said Maisie, more slowly than before; 'it's wrong and + selfish; but, oh, I've been so lonely! No, you misunderstand. Now I've + seen you again,—it's absurd, but I want to keep you in my life.' + </p> + <p> + 'Naturally. We belong.' + </p> + <p> + 'We don't; but you always understood me, and there is so much in my work + that you could help me in. You know things and the ways of doing things. + You must.' + </p> + <p> + 'I do, I fancy, or else I don't know myself. Then you won't care to lose + sight of me altogether, and—you want me to help you in your work?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; but remember, Dick, nothing will ever come of it. That's why I feel + so selfish. Can't things stay as they are? I do want your help.' + </p> + <p> + 'You shall have it. But let's consider. I must see your pics first, and + overhaul your sketches, and find out about your tendencies. You should see + what the papers say about my tendencies! Then I'll give you good advice, + and you shall paint according. Isn't that it, Maisie?' + </p> + <p> + Again there was triumph in Dick's eye. + </p> + <p> + 'It's too good of you,—much too good. Because you are consoling + yourself with what will never happen, and I know that, and yet I want to + keep you. Don't blame me later, please.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm going into the matter with my eyes open. Moreover the Queen can do no + wrong. It isn't your selfishness that impresses me. It's your audacity in + proposing to make use of me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Pooh! You're only Dick,—and a print-shop.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good: that's all I am. But, Maisie, you believe, don't you, that I + love you? I don't want you to have any false notions about brothers and + sisters.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie looked up for a moment and dropped her eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'It's absurd, but—I believe. I wish I could send you away before you + get angry with me. But—but the girl that lives with me is + red-haired, and an impressionist, and all our notions clash.' + </p> + <p> + 'So do ours, I think. Never mind. Three months from to-day we shall be + laughing at this together.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie shook her head mournfully. 'I knew you wouldn't understand, and it + will only hurt you more when you find out. Look at my face, Dick, and tell + me what you see.' + </p> + <p> + They stood up and faced each other for a moment. The fog was gathering, + and it stifled the roar of the traffic of London beyond the railings. Dick + brought all his painfully acquired knowledge of faces to bear on the eyes, + mouth, and chin underneath the black velvet toque. + </p> + <p> + 'It's the same Maisie, and it's the same me,' he said. 'We've both nice + little wills of our own, and one or other of us has to be broken. Now + about the future. I must come and see your pictures some day,—I + suppose when the red-haired girl is on the premises.' + </p> + <p> + 'Sundays are my best times. You must come on Sundays. There are such heaps + of things I want to talk about and ask your advice about. Now I must get + back to work.' + </p> + <p> + 'Try to find out before next Sunday what I am,' said Dick. 'Don't take my + word for anything I've told you. Good-bye, darling, and bless you.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie stole away like a little gray mouse. Dick watched her till she was + out of sight, but he did not hear her say to herself, very soberly, 'I'm a + wretch,—a horrid, selfish wretch. But it's Dick, and Dick will + understand.' + </p> + <p> + No one has yet explained what actually happens when an irresistible force + meets the immovable post, though many have thought deeply, even as Dick + thought. He tried to assure himself that Maisie would be led in a few + weeks by his mere presence and discourse to a better way of thinking. Then + he remembered much too distinctly her face and all that was written on it. + </p> + <p> + 'If I know anything of heads,' he said, 'there's everything in that face + but love. I shall have to put that in myself; and that chin and mouth + won't be won for nothing. But she's right. She knows what she wants, and + she's going to get it. What insolence! Me! Of all the people in the wide + world, to use me! But then she's Maisie. There's no getting over that + fact; and it's good to see her again. This business must have been + simmering at the back of my head for years.... She'll use me as I used + Binat at Port Said. + </p> + <p> + She's quite right. It will hurt a little. I shall have to see her every + Sunday,—like a young man courting a housemaid. She's sure to come + around; and yet—that mouth isn't a yielding mouth. I shall be + wanting to kiss her all the time, and I shall have to look at her + pictures,—I don't even know what sort of work she does yet,—and + I shall have to talk about Art,—Woman's Art! Therefore, particularly + and perpetually, damn all varieties of Art. It did me a good turn once, + and now it's in my way. I'll go home and do some Art.' + </p> + <p> + Half-way to the studio, Dick was smitten with a terrible thought. The + figure of a solitary woman in the fog suggested it. + </p> + <p> + 'She's all alone in London, with a red-haired impressionist girl, who + probably has the digestion of an ostrich. Most red-haired people have. + </p> + <p> + Maisie's a bilious little body. They'll eat like lone women,—meals + at all hours, and tea with all meals. I remember how the students in Paris + used to pig along. She may fall ill at any minute, and I shan't be able to + help. + </p> + <p> + Whew! this is ten times worse than owning a wife.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow entered the studio at dusk, and looked at Dick with eyes full of + the austere love that springs up between men who have tugged at the same + oar together and are yoked by custom and use and the intimacies of toil. + This is a good love, and, since it allows, and even encourages, strife, + recrimination, and brutal sincerity, does not die, but grows, and is proof + against any absence and evil conduct. + </p> + <p> + Dick was silent after he handed Torpenhow the filled pipe of council. He + thought of Maisie and her possible needs. It was a new thing to think of + anybody but Torpenhow, who could think for himself. Here at last was an + outlet for that cash balance. He could adorn Maisie barbarically with + jewelry,—a thick gold necklace round that little neck, bracelets + upon the rounded arms, and rings of price upon her hands,—the cool, + temperate, ringless hands that he had taken between his own. It was an + absurd thought, for Maisie would not even allow him to put one ring on one + finger, and she would laugh at golden trappings. It would be better to sit + with her quietly in the dusk, his arm around her neck and her face on his + shoulder, as befitted husband and wife. Torpenhow's boots creaked that + night, and his strong voice jarred. Dick's brows contracted and he + murmured an evil word because he had taken all his success as a right and + part payment for past discomfort, and now he was checked in his stride by + a woman who admitted all the success and did not instantly care for him. + </p> + <p> + 'I say, old man,' said Torpenhow, who had made one or two vain attempts at + conversation, 'I haven't put your back up by anything I've said lately, + have I?' + </p> + <p> + 'You! No. How could you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Liver out of order?' + </p> + <p> + 'The truly healthy man doesn't know he has a liver. I'm only a bit worried + about things in general. I suppose it's my soul.' + </p> + <p> + 'The truly healthy man doesn't know he has a soul. What business have you + with luxuries of that kind?' + </p> + <p> + 'It came of itself. Who's the man that says that we're all islands + shouting lies to each other across seas of misunderstanding?' + </p> + <p> + 'He's right, whoever he is,—except about the misunderstanding. I + don't think we could misunderstand each other.' + </p> + <p> + The blue smoke curled back from the ceiling in clouds. Then Torpenhow, + insinuatingly—'Dick, is it a woman?' + </p> + <p> + 'Be hanged if it's anything remotely resembling a woman; and if you begin + to talk like that, I'll hire a red-brick studio with white paint + trimmings, and begonias and petunias and blue Hungarias to play among + three-and-sixpenny pot-palms, and I'll mount all my pics in aniline-dye + plush plasters, and I'll invite every woman who maunders over what her + guide-books tell her is Art, and you shall receive 'em, Torp,—in a + snuff-brown velvet coat with yellow trousers and an orange tie. You'll + like that?' + </p> + <p> + 'Too thin, Dick. A better man than you once denied with cursing and + swearing. You've overdone it, just as he did. It's no business of mine, of + course, but it's comforting to think that somewhere under the stars + there's saving up for you a tremendous thrashing. Whether it'll come from + heaven or earth, I don't know, but it's bound to come and break you up a + little. You want hammering.' + </p> + <p> + Dick shivered. 'All right,' said he. 'When this island is disintegrated, + it will call for you.' + </p> + <p> + 'I shall come round the corner and help to disintegrate it some more. + </p> + <p> + We're talking nonsense. Come along to a theatre.' + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'And you may lead a thousand men, + Nor ever draw the rein, + But ere ye lead the Faery Queen + 'Twill burst your heart in twain.' + + He has slipped his foot from the stirrup-bar, + The bridle from his hand, + And he is bound by hand and foot + To the Queen o' Faery-land. + + Sir Hoggie and the Fairies. +</pre> + <p> + SOME weeks later, on a very foggy Sunday, Dick was returning across the + Park to his studio. 'This,' he said, 'is evidently the thrashing that Torp + meant. It hurts more than I expected; but the Queen can do no wrong; and + she certainly has some notion of drawing.' + </p> + <p> + He had just finished a Sunday visit to Maisie,—always under the + green eyes of the red-haired impressionist girl, whom he learned to hate + at sight,—and was tingling with a keen sense of shame. Sunday after + Sunday, putting on his best clothes, he had walked over to the untidy + house north of the Park, first to see Maisie's pictures, and then to + criticise and advise upon them as he realised that they were productions + on which advice would not be wasted. Sunday after Sunday, and his love + grew with each visit, he had been compelled to cram his heart back from + between his lips when it prompted him to kiss Maisie several times and + very much indeed. Sunday after Sunday, the head above the heart had warned + him that Maisie was not yet attainable, and that it would be better to + talk as connectedly as possible upon the mysteries of the craft that was + all in all to her. Therefore it was his fate to endure weekly torture in + the studio built out over the clammy back garden of a frail stuffy little + villa where nothing was ever in its right place and nobody every called,—to + endure and to watch Maisie moving to and fro with the teacups. He abhorred + tea, but, since it gave him a little longer time in her presence, he drank + it devoutly, and the red-haired girl sat in an untidy heap and eyed him + without speaking. She was always watching him. + </p> + <p> + Once, and only once, when she had left the studio, Maisie showed him an + album that held a few poor cuttings from provincial papers,—the + briefest of hurried notes on some of her pictures sent to outlying + exhibitions. Dick stooped and kissed the paint-smudged thumb on the open + page. 'Oh, my love, my love,' he muttered, 'do you value these things? + Chuck 'em into the waste-paper basket!' + </p> + <p> + 'Not till I get something better,' said Maisie, shutting the book. + </p> + <p> + Then Dick, moved by no respect for his public and a very deep regard for + the maiden, did deliberately propose, in order to secure more of these + coveted cuttings, that he should paint a picture which Maisie should sign. + </p> + <p> + 'That's childish,' said Maisie, 'and I didn't think it of you. It must be + my work. Mine,—mine,—mine!' + </p> + <p> + 'Go and design decorative medallions for rich brewers' houses. You are + thoroughly good at that.' Dick was sick and savage. + </p> + <p> + 'Better things than medallions, Dick,' was the answer, in tones that + recalled a gray-eyed atom's fearless speech to Mrs. Jennett. Dick would + have abased himself utterly, but that other girl trailed in. + </p> + <p> + Next Sunday he laid at Maisie's feet small gifts of pencils that could + almost draw of themselves and colours in whose permanence he believed, and + he was ostentatiously attentive to the work in hand. It demanded, among + other things, an exposition of the faith that was in him. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow's hair would have stood on end had he heard the fluency with + which Dick preached his own gospel of Art. + </p> + <p> + A month before, Dick would have been equally astonished; but it was + Maisie's will and pleasure, and he dragged his words together to make + plain to her comprehension all that had been hidden to himself of the whys + and wherefores of work. There is not the least difficulty in doing a thing + if you only know how to do it; the trouble is to explain your method. + </p> + <p> + 'I could put this right if I had a brush in my hand,' said Dick, + despairingly, over the modelling of a chin that Maisie complained would + not 'look flesh,'—it was the same chin that she had scraped out with + the palette knife,—'but I find it almost impossible to teach you. + There's a queer grim, Dutch touch about your painting that I like; but + I've a notion that you're weak in drawing. You foreshorten as though you + never used the model, and you've caught Kami's pasty way of dealing with + flesh in shadow. Then, again, though you don't know it yourself, you shirk + hard work. Suppose you spend some of your time on line alone. Line doesn't + allow of shirking. Oils do, and three square inches of flashy, tricky + stuff in the corner of a pic sometimes carry a bad thing off,—as I + know. That's immoral. Do line-work for a little while, and then I can tell + more about your powers, as old Kami used to say.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie protested; she did not care for the pure line. + </p> + <p> + 'I know,' said Dick. 'You want to do your fancy heads with a bunch of + flowers at the base of the neck to hide bad modelling.' The red-haired + girl laughed a little. 'You want to do landscapes with cattle knee-deep in + grass to hide bad drawing. You want to do a great deal more than you can + do. You have sense of colour, but you want form. Colour's a gift,—put + it aside and think no more about it,—but form you can be drilled + into. + </p> + <p> + Now, all your fancy heads—and some of them are very good—will + keep you exactly where you are. With line you must go forward or backward, + and it will show up all your weaknesses.' + </p> + <p> + 'But other people——' began Maisie. + </p> + <p> + 'You mustn't mind what other people do. If their souls were your soul, it + would be different. You stand and fall by your own work, remember, and + it's waste of time to think of any one else in this battle.' + </p> + <p> + Dick paused, and the longing that had been so resolutely put away came + back into his eyes. He looked at Maisie, and the look asked as plainly as + words, Was it not time to leave all this barren wilderness of canvas and + counsel and join hands with Life and Love? + </p> + <p> + Maisie assented to the new programme of schooling so adorably that Dick + could hardly restrain himself from picking her up then and there and + carrying her off to the nearest registrar's office. It was the implicit + obedience to the spoken word and the blank indifference to the unspoken + desire that baffled and buffeted his soul. He held authority in that + house,—authority limited, indeed, to one-half of one afternoon in + seven, but very real while it lasted. Maisie had learned to appeal to him + on many subjects, from the proper packing of pictures to the condition of + a smoky chimney. The red-haired girl never consulted him about anything. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, she accepted his appearances without protest, and + watched him always. He discovered that the meals of the establishment were + irregular and fragmentary. They depended chiefly on tea, pickles, and + biscuit, as he had suspected from the beginning. The girls were supposed + to market week and week about, but they lived, with the help of a + charwoman, as casually as the young ravens. Maisie spent most of her + income on models, and the other girl revelled in apparatus as refined as + her work was rough. Armed with knowledge, dear-bought from the Docks, Dick + warned Maisie that the end of semi-starvation meant the crippling of power + to work, which was considerably worse than death. + </p> + <p> + Maisie took the warning, and gave more thought to what she ate and drank. + When his trouble returned upon him, as it generally did in the long winter + twilights, the remembrance of that little act of domestic authority and + his coercion with a hearth-brush of the smoky drawing-room chimney stung + Dick like a whip-lash. + </p> + <p> + He conceived that this memory would be the extreme of his sufferings, till + one Sunday, the red-haired girl announced that she would make a study of + Dick's head, and that he would be good enough to sit still, and—quite + as an afterthought—look at Maisie. He sat, because he could not well + refuse, and for the space of half an hour he reflected on all the people + in the past whom he had laid open for the purposes of his own craft. He + remembered Binat most distinctly,—that Binat who had once been an + artist and talked about degradation. + </p> + <p> + It was the merest monochrome roughing in of a head, but it presented the + dumb waiting, the longing, and, above all, the hopeless enslavement of the + man, in a spirit of bitter mockery. + </p> + <p> + 'I'll buy it,' said Dick, promptly, 'at your own price.' + </p> + <p> + 'My price is too high, but I dare say you'll be as grateful if——' + The wet sketch, fluttered from the girl's hand and fell into the ashes of + the studio stove. When she picked it up it was hopelessly smudged. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, it's all spoiled!' said Maisie. 'And I never saw it. Was it like?' + </p> + <p> + 'Thank you,' said Dick under his breath to the red-haired girl, and he + removed himself swiftly. + </p> + <p> + 'How that man hates me!' said the girl. 'And how he loves you, Maisie!' + </p> + <p> + 'What nonsense? I knew Dick's very fond of me, but he had his work to do, + and I have mine.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, he is fond of you, and I think he knows there is something in + impressionism, after all. Maisie, can't you see?' + </p> + <p> + 'See? See what?' + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing; only, I know that if I could get any man to look at me as that + man looks at you, I'd—I don't know what I'd do. But he hates me. Oh, + how he hates me!' + </p> + <p> + She was not altogether correct. Dick's hatred was tempered with gratitude + for a few moments, and then he forgot the girl entirely. Only the sense of + shame remained, and he was nursing it across the Park in the fog. + 'There'll be an explosion one of these days,' he said wrathfully. 'But it + isn't Maisie's fault; she's right, quite right, as far as she knows, and I + can't blame her. This business has been going on for three months nearly. + </p> + <p> + Three months!—and it cost me ten years' knocking about to get at the + notion, the merest raw notion, of my work. That's true; but then I didn't + have pins, drawing-pins, and palette-knives, stuck into me every Sunday. + </p> + <p> + Oh, my little darling, if ever I break you, somebody will have a very bad + time of it. No, she won't. I'd be as big a fool about her as I am now. + I'll poison that red-haired girl on my wedding-day,—she's + unwholesome,—and now I'll pass on these present bad times to Torp.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow had been moved to lecture Dick more than once lately on the sin + of levity, and Dick and listened and replied not a word. In the weeks + between the first few Sundays of his discipline he had flung himself + savagely into his work, resolved that Maisie should at least know the full + stretch of his powers. Then he had taught Maisie that she must not pay the + least attention to any work outside her own, and Maisie had obeyed him all + too well. She took his counsels, but was not interested in his pictures. + </p> + <p> + 'Your things smell of tobacco and blood,' she said once. 'Can't you do + anything except soldiers?' + </p> + <p> + 'I could do a head of you that would startle you,' thought Dick,—this + was before the red-haired girl had brought him under the guillotine,—but + he only said, 'I am very sorry,' and harrowed Torpenhow's soul that + evening with blasphemies against Art. Later, insensibly and to a large + extent against his own will, he ceased to interest himself in his own + work. + </p> + <p> + For Maisie's sake, and to soothe the self-respect that it seemed to him he + lost each Sunday, he would not consciously turn out bad stuff, but, since + Maisie did not care even for his best, it were better not to do anything + at all save wait and mark time between Sunday and Sunday. Torpenhow was + disgusted as the weeks went by fruitless, and then attacked him one Sunday + evening when Dick felt utterly exhausted after three hours' biting + self-restraint in Maisie's presence. There was Language, and Torpenhow + withdrew to consult the Nilghai, who had come it to talk continental + politics. + </p> + <p> + 'Bone-idle, is he? Careless, and touched in the temper?' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'It isn't worth worrying over. Dick is probably playing the fool with a + woman.' + </p> + <p> + 'Isn't that bad enough?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. She may throw him out of gear and knock his work to pieces for a + while. She may even turn up here some day and make a scene on the + staircase: one never knows. But until Dick speaks of his own accord you + had better not touch him. He is no easy-tempered man to handle.' + </p> + <p> + 'No; I wish he were. He is such an aggressive, cocksure, you-be-damned + fellow.' + </p> + <p> + 'He'll get that knocked out of him in time. He must learn that he can't + storm up and down the world with a box of moist tubes and a slick brush. + </p> + <p> + You're fond of him?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'd take any punishment that's in store for him if I could; but the worst + of it is, no man can save his brother.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, and the worser of it is, there is no discharge in this war. Dick must + learn his lesson like the rest of us. Talking of war, there'll be trouble + in the Balkans in the spring.' + </p> + <p> + 'That trouble is long coming. I wonder if we could drag Dick out there + when it comes off?' + </p> + <p> + Dick entered the room soon afterwards, and the question was put to him. + </p> + <p> + 'Not good enough,' he said shortly. 'I'm too comf'y where I am.' + </p> + <p> + 'Surely you aren't taking all the stuff in the papers seriously?' said the + Nilghai. 'Your vogue will be ended in less than six months,—the + public will know your touch and go on to something new,—and where + will you be then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Here, in England.' + </p> + <p> + 'When you might be doing decent work among us out there? Nonsense! I shall + go, the Keneu will be there, Torp will be there, Cassavetti will be there, + and the whole lot of us will be there, and we shall have as much as ever + we can do, with unlimited fighting and the chance for you of seeing things + that would make the reputation of three Verestchagins.' + </p> + <p> + 'Um!' said Dick, pulling at his pipe. + </p> + <p> + 'You prefer to stay here and imagine that all the world is gaping at your + pictures? Just think how full an average man's life is of his own pursuits + and pleasures. When twenty thousand of him find time to look up between + mouthfuls and grunt something about something they aren't the least + interested in, the net result is called fame, reputation, or notoriety, + according to the taste and fancy of the speller my lord.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know that as well as you do. Give me credit for a little gumption.' + </p> + <p> + 'Be hanged if I do!' + </p> + <p> + 'Be hanged, then; you probably will be,—for a spy, by excited Turks. + </p> + <p> + Heigh-ho! I'm weary, dead weary, and virtue has gone out of me.' Dick + dropped into a chair, and was fast asleep in a minute. + </p> + <p> + 'That's a bad sign,' said the Nilghai, in an undertone. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow picked the pipe from the waistcoat where it was beginning to + burn, and put a pillow behind the head. 'We can't help; we can't help,' he + said. 'It's a good ugly sort of old cocoanut, and I'm fond of it. There's + the scar of the wipe he got when he was cut over in the square.' + </p> + <p> + 'Shouldn't wonder if that has made him a trifle mad.' + </p> + <p> + 'I should. He's a most businesslike madman.' + </p> + <p> + Then Dick began to snore furiously. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, here, no affection can stand this sort of thing. Wake up, Dick, and + go and sleep somewhere else, if you intend to make a noise about it.' + </p> + <p> + 'When a cat has been out on the tiles all night,' said the Nilghai, in his + beard, 'I notice that she usually sleeps all day. This is natural + history.' + </p> + <p> + Dick staggered away rubbing his eyes and yawning. In the night-watches he + was overtaken with an idea, so simple and so luminous that he wondered he + had never conceived it before. It was full of craft. He would seek Maisie + on a week-day,—would suggest an excursion, and would take her by + train to Fort Keeling, over the very ground that they two had trodden + together ten years ago. + </p> + <p> + 'As a general rule,' he explained to his chin-lathered reflection in the + morning, 'it isn't safe to cross an old trail twice. Things remind one of + things, and a cold wind gets up, and you feel said; but this is an + exception to every rule that ever was. I'll go to Maisie at once.' + </p> + <p> + Fortunately, the red-haired girl was out shopping when he arrived, and + Maisie in a paint-spattered blouse was warring with her canvas. She was + not pleased to see him; for week-day visits were a stretch of the bond; + and it needed all his courage to explain his errand. + </p> + <p> + 'I know you've been working too hard,' he concluded, with an air of + authority. 'If you do that, you'll break down. You had much better come.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where?' said Maisie, wearily. She had been standing before her easel too + long, and was very tired. + </p> + <p> + 'Anywhere you please. We'll take a train to-morrow and see where it stops. + We'll have lunch somewhere, and I'll bring you back in the evening.' + </p> + <p> + 'If there's a good working light to-morrow, I lose a day.' Maisie balanced + the heavy white chestnut palette irresolutely. + </p> + <p> + Dick bit back an oath that was hurrying to his lips. He had not yet + learned patience with the maiden to whom her work was all in all. + </p> + <p> + 'You'll lose ever so many more, dear, if you use every hour of working + light. Overwork's only murderous idleness. Don't be unreasonable. I'll + call for you to-morrow after breakfast early.' + </p> + <p> + 'But surely you are going to ask——' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I am not. I want you and nobody else. Besides, she hates me as much + as I hate her. She won't care to come. To-morrow, then; and pray that we + get sunshine.' + </p> + <p> + Dick went away delighted, and by consequence did no work whatever. + </p> + <p> + He strangled a wild desire to order a special train, but bought a great + gray kangaroo cloak lined with glossy black marten, and then retired into + himself to consider things. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm going out for the day to-morrow with Dick,' said Maisie to the + red-haired girl when the latter returned, tired, from marketing in the + Edgware road. + </p> + <p> + 'He deserves it. I shall have the studio floor thoroughly scrubbed while + you're away. It's very dirty.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie had enjoyed no sort of holiday for months and looked forward to the + little excitement, but not without misgivings. + </p> + <p> + 'There's nobody nicer than Dick when he talks sensibly, she though, but + I'm sure he'll be silly and worry me, and I'm sure I can't tell him + anything he'd like to hear. If he'd only be sensible, I should like him so + much better.' + </p> + <p> + Dick's eyes were full of joy when he made his appearance next morning and + saw Maisie, gray-ulstered and black-velvet-hatted, standing in the + hallway. Palaces of marble, and not sordid imitation of grained wood, were + surely the fittest background for such a divinity. The red-haired girl + drew her into the studio for a moment and kissed her hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + Maisie's eyebrows climbed to the top of her forehead; she was altogether + unused to these demonstrations. 'Mind my hat,' she said, hurrying away, + and ran down the steps to Dick waiting by the hansom. + </p> + <p> + 'Are you quite warm enough! Are you sure you wouldn't like some more + breakfast? Put the cloak over you knees.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm quite comf'y, thanks. Where are we going, Dick? Oh, do stop singing + like that. People will think we're mad.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let 'em think,—if the exertion doesn't kill them. They don't know + who we are, and I'm sure I don't care who they are. My faith, Maisie, + you're looking lovely!' + </p> + <p> + Maisie stared directly in front of her and did not reply. The wind of a + keen clear winter morning had put colour into her cheeks. Overhead, the + creamy-yellow smoke-clouds were thinning away one by one against a + pale-blue sky, and the improvident sparrows broke off from water-spout + committees and cab-rank cabals to clamour of the coming of spring. + </p> + <p> + 'It will be lovely weather in the country,' said Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'But where are we going?' + </p> + <p> + 'Wait and see.' + </p> + <p> + The stopped at Victoria, and Dick sought tickets. For less than half the + fraction of an instant it occurred to Maisie, comfortably settled by the + waiting-room fire, that it was much more pleasant to send a man to the + booking-office than to elbow one's own way through the crowd. Dick put her + into a Pullman,—solely on account of the warmth there; and she + regarded the extravagance with grave scandalised eyes as the train moved + out into the country. + </p> + <p> + 'I wish I knew where we are going,' she repeated for the twentieth time. + </p> + <p> + The name of a well-remembered station flashed by, towards the end of the + run, and Maisie was delighted. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Dick, you villain!' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, I thought you might like to see the place again. You haven't been + here since the old times, have you?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. I never cared to see Mrs. Jennett again; and she was all that was + ever there.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not quite. Look out a minute. There's the windmill above the + potato-fields; they haven't built villas there yet; d'you remember when I + shut you up in it?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. How she beat you for it! I never told it was you.' + </p> + <p> + 'She guessed. I jammed a stick under the door and told you that I was + burying Amomma alive in the potatoes, and you believed me. You had a + trusting nature in those days.' + </p> + <p> + They laughed and leaned to look out, identifying ancient landmarks with + many reminiscences. Dick fixed his weather eye on the curve of Maisie's + cheek, very near his own, and watched the blood rise under the clear skin. + He congratulated himself upon his cunning, and looked that the evening + would bring him a great reward. + </p> + <p> + When the train stopped they went out to look at an old town with new eyes. + First, but from a distance, they regarded the house of Mrs. Jennett. + </p> + <p> + 'Suppose she should come out now, what would you do?' said Dick, with mock + terror. + </p> + <p> + 'I should make a face.' + </p> + <p> + 'Show, then,' said Dick, dropping into the speech of childhood. + </p> + <p> + Maisie made that face in the direction of the mean little villa, and Dick + laughed. + </p> + <p> + '"This is disgraceful,"' said Maisie, mimicking Mrs. Jennett's tone. + </p> + <p> + '"Maisie, you run in at once, and learn the collect, gospel, and epistle + for the next three Sundays. After all I've taught you, too, and three + helps every Sunday at dinner! Dick's always leading you into mischief. If + you aren't a gentleman, Dick, you might at least—"' + </p> + <p> + The sentence ended abruptly. Maisie remembered when it had last been used. + </p> + <p> + '"Try to behave like one,"' said Dick, promptly. 'Quite right. Now we'll + get some lunch and go on to Fort Keeling,—unless you'd rather drive + there?' + </p> + <p> + 'We must walk, out of respect to the place. How little changed it all is!' + </p> + <p> + They turned in the direction of the sea through unaltered streets, and the + influence of old things lay upon them. Presently they passed a + confectioner's shop much considered in the days when their joint + pocket-money amounted to a shilling a week. + </p> + <p> + 'Dick, have you any pennies?' said Maisie, half to herself. + </p> + <p> + 'Only three; and if you think you're going to have two of 'em to buy + peppermints with, you're wrong. She says peppermints aren't ladylike.' + </p> + <p> + Again they laughed, and again the colour came into Maisie's cheeks as the + blood boiled through Dick's heart. After a large lunch they went down to + the beach and to Fort Keeling across the waste, wind-bitten land that no + builder had thought it worth his while to defile. The winter breeze came + in from the sea and sang about their ears. + </p> + <p> + 'Maisie,' said Dick, 'your nose is getting a crude Prussian blue at the + tip. + </p> + <p> + I'll race you as far as you please for as much as you please.' + </p> + <p> + She looked round cautiously, and with a laugh set off, swiftly as the + ulster allowed, till she was out of breath. + </p> + <p> + 'We used to run miles,' she panted. 'It's absurd that we can't run now.' + </p> + <p> + 'Old age, dear. This it is to get fat and sleek in town. When I wished to + pull you hair you generally ran for three miles, shrieking at the top of + your voice. I ought to know, because those shrieks of yours were meant to + call up Mrs. Jennett with a cane and——' + </p> + <p> + 'Dick, I never got you a beating on purpose in my life.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, of course you never did. Good heavens! look at the sea.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, it's the same as ever!' said Maisie. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow had gathered from Mr. Beeton that Dick, properly dressed and + shaved, had left the house at half-past eight in the morning with a + travelling-rug over his arm. The Nilghai rolled in at mid-day for chess + and polite conversation. + </p> + <p> + 'It's worse than anything I imagined,' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, the everlasting Dick, I suppose! You fuss over him like a hen with + one chick. Let him run riot if he thinks it'll amuse him. You can whip a + young pup off feather, but you can't whip a young man.' + </p> + <p> + 'It isn't a woman. It's one woman; and it's a girl.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where's your proof?' + </p> + <p> + 'He got up and went out at eight this morning,—got up in the middle + of the night, by Jove! a thing he never does except when he's on service. + </p> + <p> + Even then, remember, we had to kick him out of his blankets before the + fight began at El-Maghrib. It's disgusting.' + </p> + <p> + 'It looks odd; but maybe he's decided to buy a horse at last. He might get + up for that, mightn't he?' + </p> + <p> + 'Buy a blazing wheelbarrow! He'd have told us if there was a horse in the + wind. It's a girl.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't be certain. Perhaps it's only a married woman.' + </p> + <p> + 'Dick has some sense of humour, if you haven't. Who gets up in the gray + dawn to call on another man's wife? It's a girl.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let it be a girl, then. She may teach him that there's somebody else in + the world besides himself.' + </p> + <p> + 'She'll spoil his hand. She'll waste his time, and she'll marry him, and + ruin his work for ever. He'll be a respectable married man before we can + stop him, and—he'll ever go on the long trail again.' + </p> + <p> + 'All quite possible, but the earth won't spin the other way when that + happens.... No! ho! I'd give something to see Dick "go wooing with the + boys." Don't worry about it. These things be with Allah, and we can only + look on. Get the chessmen.' + </p> + <p> + The red-haired girl was lying down in her own room, staring at the + ceiling. The footsteps of people on the pavement sounded, as they grew + indistinct in the distance, like a many-times-repeated kiss that was all + one long kiss. Her hands were by her side, and they opened and shut + savagely from time to time. + </p> + <p> + The charwoman in charge of the scrubbing of the studio knocked at her + door: 'Beg y' pardon, miss, but in cleanin' of a floor there's two, not to + say three, kind of soap, which is yaller, an' mottled, an' disinfectink. + </p> + <p> + Now, jist before I took my pail into the passage I though it would be + pre'aps jest as well if I was to come up 'ere an' ask you what sort of + soap you was wishful that I should use on them boards. The yaller soap, + miss——' + </p> + <p> + There was nothing in the speech to have caused the paroxysm of fury that + drove the red-haired girl into the middle of the room, almost shouting—'Do + you suppose I care what you use? Any kind will do!—any kind!' + </p> + <p> + The woman fled, and the red-haired girl looked at her own reflection in + the glass for an instant and covered her face with her hands. It was as + though she had shouted some shameless secret aloud. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Roses red and roses white + Plucked I for my love's delight. + + She would none of all my posies,— + Bade me gather her blue roses. + + Half the world I wandered through, + Seeking where such flowers grew; + Half the world unto my quest + Answered but with laugh and jest. + + It may be beyond the grave + She shall find what she would have. + + Mine was but an idle quest,— + Roses white and red are best!—Blue Roses +</pre> + <p> + THE SEA had not changed. Its waters were low on the mud-banks, and the + Marazion Bell-buoy clanked and swung in the tide-way. On the white + beach-sand dried stumps of sea-poppy shivered and chattered. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't see the old breakwater,' said Maisie, under her breath. + </p> + <p> + 'Let's be thankful that we have as much as we have. I don't believe + they've mounted a single new gun on the fort since we were here. Come and + look.' + </p> + <p> + They came to the glacis of Fort Keeling, and sat down in a nook sheltered + from the wind under the tarred throat of a forty-pounder cannon. + </p> + <p> + 'Now, if Ammoma were only here!' said Maisie. + </p> + <p> + For a long time both were silent. Then Dick took Maisie's hand and called + her by her name. + </p> + <p> + She shook her head and looked out to sea. + </p> + <p> + 'Maisie, darling, doesn't it make any difference?' + </p> + <p> + 'No!' between clenched teeth. 'I'd—I'd tell you if it did; but it + doesn't, Oh, Dick, please be sensible.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you think that it ever will?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, I'm sure it won't.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why?' + </p> + <p> + Maisie rested her chin on her hand, and, still regarding the sea, spoke + hurriedly—'I know what you want perfectly well, but I can't give it + to you, Dick. It isn't my fault; indeed, it isn't. If I felt that I could + care for any one——But I don't feel that I care. I simply don't + understand what the feeling means.' + </p> + <p> + 'Is that true, dear?' + </p> + <p> + 'You've been very good to me, Dickie; and the only way I can pay you back + is by speaking the truth. I daren't tell a fib. I despise myself quit + enough as it is.' + </p> + <p> + 'What in the world for?' + </p> + <p> + 'Because—because I take everything that you give me and I give you + nothing in return. It's mean and selfish of me, and whenever I think of it + it worries me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Understand once for all, then, that I can manage my own affairs, and if I + choose to do anything you aren't to blame. You haven't a single thing to + reproach yourself with, darling.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, I have, and talking only makes it worse.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then don't talk about it.' + </p> + <p> + 'How can I help myself? If you find me alone for a minute you are always + talking about it; and when you aren't you look it. You don't know how I + despise myself sometimes.' + </p> + <p> + 'Great goodness!' said Dick, nearly jumping to his feet. 'Speak the truth + now, Maisie, if you never speak it again! Do I—does this worrying + bore you?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. It does not.' + </p> + <p> + 'You'd tell me if it did?' + </p> + <p> + 'I should let you know, I think.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thank you. The other thing is fatal. But you must learn to forgive a man + when he's in love. He's always a nuisance. You must have known that?' + </p> + <p> + Maisie did not consider the last question worth answering, and Dick was + forced to repeat it. + </p> + <p> + 'There were other men, of course. They always worried just when I was in + the middle of my work, and wanted me to listen to them.' + </p> + <p> + 'Did you listen?' + </p> + <p> + 'At first; and they couldn't understand why I didn't care. And they used + to praise my pictures; and I thought they meant it. I used to be proud of + the praise, and tell Kami, and—I shall never forget—once Kami + laughed at me.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't like being laughed at, Maisie, do you?' + </p> + <p> + 'I hate it. I never laugh at other people unless—unless they do bad + work. + </p> + <p> + Dick, tell me honestly what you think of my pictures generally,—of + everything of mine that you've seen.' + </p> + <p> + '"Honest, honest, and honest over!"' quoted Dick from a catchword of long + ago. 'Tell me what Kami always says.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie hesitated. 'He—he says that there is feeling in them.' + </p> + <p> + 'How dare you tell me a fib like that? Remember, I was under Kami for two + years. I know exactly what he says.' + </p> + <p> + 'It isn't a fib.' + </p> + <p> + 'It's worse; it's a half-truth. Kami says, when he puts his head on one + side,—so,—"Il y a du sentiment, mais il n'y a pas de parti + pris."' He rolled the r threateningly, as Kami used to do. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, that is what he says; and I'm beginning to think that he is right.' + </p> + <p> + 'Certainly he is.' Dick admitted that two people in the world could do and + say no wrong. Kami was the man. + </p> + <p> + 'And now you say the same thing. It's so disheartening.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm sorry, but you asked me to speak the truth. Besides, I love you too + much to pretend about your work. It's strong, it's patient sometimes,—not + always,—and sometimes there's power in it, but there's no special + reason why it should be done at all. At least, that's how it strikes me.' + </p> + <p> + 'There's no special reason why anything in the world should ever be done. + You know that as well as I do. I only want success.' + </p> + <p> + 'You're going the wrong way to get it, then. Hasn't Kami ever told you + so?' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't quote Kami to me. I want to know what you think. My work's bad, to + begin with.' + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't say that, and I don't think it.' + </p> + <p> + 'It's amateurish, then.' + </p> + <p> + 'That it most certainly is not. You're a work-woman, darling, to your + boot-heels, and I respect you for that.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't laugh at me behind my back?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, dear. You see, you are more to me than any one else. Put this cloak + thing round you, or you'll get chilled.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie wrapped herself in the soft marten skins, turning the gray kangaroo + fur to the outside. + </p> + <p> + 'This is delicious,' she said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully along the + fur. + </p> + <p> + 'Well? Why am I wrong in trying to get a little success?' + </p> + <p> + 'Just because you try. Don't you understand, darling? Good work has + nothing to do with—doesn't belong to—the person who does it. + It's put into him or her from outside.' + </p> + <p> + 'But how does that affect——' + </p> + <p> + 'Wait a minute. All we can do is to learn how to do our work, to be + masters of our materials instead of servants, and never to be afraid of + anything.' + </p> + <p> + 'I understand that.' + </p> + <p> + 'Everything else comes from outside ourselves. Very good. If we sit down + quietly to work out notions that are sent to us, we may or we may not do + something that isn't bad. A great deal depends on being master of the + bricks and mortar of the trade. But the instant we begin to think about + success and the effect of our work—to play with one eye on the + gallery—we lose power and touch and everything else. At least that's + how I have found it. Instead of being quiet and giving every power you + possess to your work, you're fretting over something which you can neither + help no hinder by a minute. See?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's so easy for you to talk in that way. People like what you do. Don't + you ever think about the gallery?' + </p> + <p> + 'Much too often; but I'm always punished for it by loss of power. It's as + simple as the Rule of Three. If we make light of our work by using it for + our own ends, our work will make light of us, and, as we're the weaker, we + shall suffer.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't treat my work lightly. You know that it's everything to me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course; but, whether you realise it or not, you give two strokes for + yourself to one for your work. It isn't your fault, darling. I do exactly + the same thing, and know that I'm doing it. Most of the French schools, + and all the schools here, drive the students to work for their own credit, + and for the sake of their pride. I was told that all the world was + interested in my work, and everybody at Kami's talked turpentine, and I + honestly believed that the world needed elevating and influencing, and all + manner of impertinences, by my brushes. By Jove, I actually believed that! + When my little head was bursting with a notion that I couldn't handle + because I hadn't sufficient knowledge of my craft, I used to run about + wondering at my own magnificence and getting ready to astonish the world.' + </p> + <p> + 'But surely one can do that sometimes?' + </p> + <p> + 'Very seldom with malice aforethought, darling. And when it's done it's + such a tiny thing, and the world's so big, and all but a millionth part of + it doesn't care. Maisie, come with me and I'll show you something of the + size of the world. One can no more avoid working than eating,—that + goes on by itself,—but try to see what you are working for. I know + such little heavens that I could take you to,—islands tucked away + under the Line. + </p> + <p> + You sight them after weeks of crashing through water as black as black + marble because it's so deep, and you sit in the fore-chains day after day + and see the sun rise almost afraid because the sea's so lonely.' + </p> + <p> + 'Who is afraid?—you, or the sun?' + </p> + <p> + 'The sun, of course. And there are noises under the sea, and sounds + overhead in a clear sky. Then you find your island alive with hot moist + orchids that make mouths at you and can do everything except talk. + </p> + <p> + There's a waterfall in it three hundred feet high, just like a sliver of + green jade laced with silver; and millions of wild bees live up in the + rocks; and you can hear the fat cocoanuts falling from the palms; and you + order an ivory-white servant to sling you a long yellow hammock with + tassels on it like ripe maize, and you put up your feet and hear the bees + hum and the water fall till you go to sleep.' + </p> + <p> + 'Can one work there?' + </p> + <p> + 'Certainly. One must do something always. You hang your canvas up in a + palm tree and let the parrots criticise. When the scuffle you heave a ripe + custard-apple at them, and it bursts in a lather of cream. There are + hundreds of places. Come and see them.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't quite like that place. It sounds lazy. Tell me another.' + </p> + <p> + 'What do you think of a big, red, dead city built of red sandstone, with + raw green aloes growing between the stones, lying out neglected on + honey-coloured sands? There are forty dead kings there, Maisie, each in a + gorgeous tomb finer than all the others. You look at the palaces and + streets and shops and tanks, and think that men must live there, till you + find a wee gray squirrel rubbing its nose all alone in the market-place, + and a jewelled peacock struts out of a carved doorway and spreads its tail + against a marble screen as fine pierced as point-lace. Then a monkey—a + little black monkey—walks through the main square to get a drink + from a tank forty feet deep. He slides down the creepers to the water's + edge, and a friend holds him by the tail, in case he should fall in.' + </p> + <p> + 'Is that all true?' + </p> + <p> + 'I have been there and seen. Then evening comes, and the lights change + till it's just as though you stood in the heart of a king-opal. A little + before sundown, as punctually as clockwork, a big bristly wild boar, with + all his family following, trots through the city gate, churning the foam + on his tusks. You climb on the shoulder of a blind black stone god and + watch that pig choose himself a palace for the night and stump in wagging + his tail. Then the night-wind gets up, and the sands move, and you hear + the desert outside the city singing, "Now I lay me down to sleep," and + everything is dark till the moon rises. Maisie, darling, come with me and + see what the world is really like. It's very lovely, and it's very + horrible,—but I won't let you see anything horrid,—and it + doesn't care your life or mine for pictures or anything else except doing + its own work and making love. Come, and I'll show you how to brew + sangaree, and sling a hammock, and—oh, thousands of things, and + you'll see for yourself what colour means, and we'll find out together + what love means, and then, maybe, we shall be allowed to do some good + work. Come away!' + </p> + <p> + 'Why?' said Maisie. + </p> + <p> + 'How can you do anything until you have seen everything, or as much as you + can? And besides, darling, I love you. Come along with me. You have no + business here; you don't belong to this place; you're half a gipsy,—your + face tells that; and I—even the smell of open water makes me + restless. Come across the sea and be happy!' + </p> + <p> + He had risen to his feet, and stood in the shadow of the gun, looking down + at the girl. The very short winter afternoon had worn away, and, before + they knew, the winter moon was walking the untroubled sea. Long ruled + lines of silver showed where a ripple of the rising tide was turning over + the mud-banks. The wind had dropped, and in the intense stillness they + could hear a donkey cropping the frosty grass many yards away. A faint + beating, like that of a muffled drum, came out of the moon-haze. + </p> + <p> + 'What's that?' said Maisie, quickly. 'It sounds like a heart beating. + </p> + <p> + Where is it?' + </p> + <p> + Dick was so angry at this sudden wrench to his pleadings that he could not + trust himself to speak, and in this silence caught the sound. Maisie from + her seat under the gun watched him with a certain amount of fear. + </p> + <p> + She wished so much that he would be sensible and cease to worry her with + over-sea emotion that she both could and could not understand. She was not + prepared, however, for the change in his face as he listened. + </p> + <p> + 'It's a steamer,' he said,—'a twin-screw steamer, by the beat. I + can't make her out, but she must be standing very close in-shore. Ah!' as + the red of a rocket streaked the haze, 'she's standing in to signal before + she clears the Channel.' + </p> + <p> + 'Is it a wreck?' said Maisie, to whom these words were as Greek. + </p> + <p> + Dick's eyes were turned to the sea. 'Wreck! What nonsense! She's only + reporting herself. Red rocket forward—there's a green light aft now, + and two red rockets from the bridge.' + </p> + <p> + 'What does that mean?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's the signal of the Cross Keys Line running to Australia. I wonder + which steamer it is.' The note of his voice had changed; he seemed to be + talking to himself, and Maisie did not approve of it. The moonlight broke + the haze for a moment, touching the black sides of a long steamer working + down Channel. 'Four masts and three funnels—she's in deep draught, + too. That must be the Barralong, or the Bhutia. No, the Bhutia has a + clopper bow. It's the Barralong, to Australia. She'll lift the Southern + Cross in a week,—lucky old tub!—oh, lucky old tub!' + </p> + <p> + He stared intently, and moved up the slope of the fort to get a better + view, but the mist on the sea thickened again, and the beating of the + screws grew fainter. Maisie called to him a little angrily, and he + returned, still keeping his eyes to seaward. 'Have you ever seen the + Southern Cross blazing right over your head?' he asked. 'It's superb!' + </p> + <p> + 'No,' she said shortly, 'and I don't want to. If you think it's so lovely, + why don't you go and see it yourself?' + </p> + <p> + She raised her face from the soft blackness of the marten skins about her + throat, and her eyes shone like diamonds. The moonlight on the gray + kangaroo fur turned it to frosted silver of the coldest. + </p> + <p> + 'By Jove, Maisie, you look like a little heathen idol tucked up there.' + The eyes showed that they did not appreciate the compliment. 'I'm sorry,' + he continued. 'The Southern Cross isn't worth looking at unless someone + helps you to see. That steamer's out of hearing.' + </p> + <p> + 'Dick,' she said quietly, 'suppose I were to come to you now,—be + quiet a minute,—just as I am, and caring for you just as much as I + do.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not as a brother, though You said you didn't—in the Park.' + </p> + <p> + 'I never had a brother. Suppose I said, "Take me to those places, and in + time, perhaps, I might really care for you," what would you do?' + </p> + <p> + 'Send you straight back to where you came from, in a cab. No, I wouldn't; + I'd let you walk. But you couldn't do it, dear. And I wouldn't run the + risk. You're worth waiting for till you can come without reservation.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you honestly believe that?' + </p> + <p> + 'I have a hazy sort of idea that I do. Has it never struck you in that + light?' + </p> + <p> + 'Ye—es. I feel so wicked about it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Wickeder than usual?' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know all I think. It's almost too awful to tell.' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind. You promised to tell me the truth—at least.' + </p> + <p> + 'It's so ungrateful of me, but—but, though I know you care for me, + and I like to have you with me, I'd—I'd even sacrifice you, if that + would bring me what I want.' + </p> + <p> + 'My poor little darling! I know that state of mind. It doesn't lead to + good work.' + </p> + <p> + 'You aren't angry? Remember, I do despise myself.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not exactly flattered,—I had guessed as much before,—but + I'm not angry. I'm sorry for you. Surely you ought to have left a + littleness like that behind you, years ago.' + </p> + <p> + 'You've no right to patronise me! I only want what I have worked for so + long. It came to you without any trouble, and—and I don't think it's + fair.' + </p> + <p> + 'What can I do? I'd give ten years of my life to get you what you want. + </p> + <p> + But I can't help you; even I can't help.' + </p> + <p> + A murmur of dissent from Maisie. He went on—'And I know by what you + have just said that you're on the wrong road to success. It isn't got at + by sacrificing other people,—I've had that much knocked into me; you + must sacrifice yourself, and live under orders, and never think for + yourself, and never have real satisfaction in your work except just at the + beginning, when you're reaching out after a notion.' + </p> + <p> + 'How can you believe all that?' + </p> + <p> + 'There's no question of belief or disbelief. That's the law, and you take + it or refuse it as you please. I try to obey, but I can't, and then my + work turns bad on my hands. Under any circumstances, remember, four-fifths + of everybody's work must be bad. But the remnant is worth the trouble for + it's own sake.' + </p> + <p> + 'Isn't it nice to get credit even for bad work?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's much too nice. But—— May I tell you something? It isn't + a pretty tale, but you're so like a man that I forget when I'm talking to + you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Tell me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Once when I was out in the Soudan I went over some ground that we had + been fighting on for three days. There were twelve hundred dead; and we + hadn't time to bury them.' + </p> + <p> + 'How ghastly!' + </p> + <p> + 'I had been at work on a big double-sheet sketch, and I was wondering what + people would think of it at home. The sight of that field taught me a good + deal. It looked just like a bed of horrible toadstools in all colours, and—I'd + never seen men in bulk go back to their beginnings before. So I began to + understand that men and women were only material to work with, and that + what they said or did was of no consequence. See? Strictly speaking, you + might just as well put your ear down to the palette to catch what your + colours are saying.' + </p> + <p> + 'Dick, that's disgraceful!' + </p> + <p> + 'Wait a minute. I said, strictly speaking. Unfortunately, everybody must + be either a man or a woman.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm glad you allow that much.' + </p> + <p> + 'In your case I don't. You aren't a woman. But ordinary people, Maisie, + must behave and work as such. That's what makes me so savage.' He hurled a + pebble towards the sea as he spoke. 'I know that it is outside my business + to care what people say; I can see that it spoils my output if I listen to + 'em; and yet, confound it all,'—another pebble flew seaward,—'I + can't help purring when I'm rubbed the right way. Even when I can see on a + man's forehead that he is lying his way through a clump of pretty + speeches, those lies make me happy and play the mischief with my hand.' + </p> + <p> + 'And when he doesn't say pretty things?' + </p> + <p> + 'Then, belovedest,'—Dick grinned,—'I forget that I am the + steward of these gifts, and I want to make that man love and appreciate my + work with a thick stick. It's too humiliating altogether; but I suppose + even if one were an angel and painted humans altogether from outside, one + would lose in touch what one gained in grip.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie laughed at the idea of Dick as an angel. + </p> + <p> + 'But you seem to think,' she said, 'that everything nice spoils your + hand.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't think. It's the law,—just the same as it was at Mrs. + Jennett's. + </p> + <p> + Everything that is nice does spoil your hand. I'm glad you see so + clearly.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't like the view.' + </p> + <p> + 'Nor I. But—have got orders: what can do? Are you strong enough to + face it alone?' + </p> + <p> + 'I suppose I must.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let me help, darling. We can hold each other very tight and try to walk + straight. We shall blunder horribly, but it will be better than stumbling + apart. Maisie, can't you see reason?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't think we should get on together. We should be two of a trade, so + we should never agree.' + </p> + <p> + 'How I should like to meet the man who made that proverb! He lived in a + cave and ate raw bear, I fancy. I'd make him chew his own arrow-heads. + </p> + <p> + Well?' + </p> + <p> + 'I should be only half married to you. I should worry and fuss about my + work, as I do now. Four days out of the seven I'm not fit to speak to.' + </p> + <p> + 'You talk as if no one else in the world had ever used a brush. D'you + suppose that I don't know the feeling of worry and bother and + can't-get-at-ness? You're lucky if you only have it four days out of the + seven. What difference would that make?' + </p> + <p> + 'A great deal—if you had it too.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, but I could respect it. Another man might not. He might laugh at + you. But there's no use talking about it. If you can think in that way you + can't care for me—yet.' + </p> + <p> + The tide had nearly covered the mud-banks and twenty little ripples broke + on the beach before Maisie chose to speak. + </p> + <p> + 'Dick,' she said slowly, 'I believe very much that you are better than I + am.' + </p> + <p> + 'This doesn't seem to bear on the argument—but in what way?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't quite know, but in what you said about work and things; and then + you're so patient. Yes, you're better than I am.' + </p> + <p> + Dick considered rapidly the murkiness of an average man's life. There was + nothing in the review to fill him with a sense of virtue. He lifted the + hem of the cloak to his lips. + </p> + <p> + 'Why,' said Maisie, making as though she had not noticed, 'can you see + things that I can't? I don't believe what you believe; but you're right, I + believe.' + </p> + <p> + 'If I've seen anything, God knows I couldn't have seen it but for you, and + I know that I couldn't have said it except to you. You seemed to make + everything clear for a minute; but I don't practice what I preach. You + would help me.... There are only us two in the world for all purposes, and—and + you like to have me with you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course I do. I wonder if you can realise how utterly lonely I am!' + </p> + <p> + 'Darling, I think I can.' + </p> + <p> + 'Two years ago, when I first took the little house, I used to walk up and + down the back-garden trying to cry. I never can cry. Can you?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's some time since I tried. What was the trouble? Overwork?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know; but I used to dream that I had broken down, and had no + money, and was starving in London. I thought about it all day, and it + frightened me—oh, how it frightened me!' + </p> + <p> + 'I know that fear. It's the most terrible of all. It wakes me up in the + night sometimes. You oughtn't to know anything about it.' + </p> + <p> + 'How do you know?' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind. Is your three hundred a year safe?' + </p> + <p> + 'It's in Consols.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very well. If any one comes to you and recommends a better investment,—even + if I should come to you,—don't you listen. Never shift the money for + a minute, and never lend a penny of it,—even to the red-haired + girl.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't scold me so! I'm not likely to be foolish.' + </p> + <p> + 'The earth is full of men who'd sell their souls for three hundred a year; + and women come and talk, and borrow a five-pound note here and a ten-pound + note there; and a woman has no conscience in a money debt. + </p> + <p> + Stick to your money, Maisie, for there's nothing more ghastly in the world + than poverty in London. It's scared me. By Jove, it put the fear into me! + And one oughtn't to be afraid of anything.' + </p> + <p> + To each man is appointed his particular dread,—the terror that, if + he does not fight against it, must cow him even to the loss of his + manhood. Dick's experience of the sordid misery of want had entered into + the deeps of him, and, lest he might find virtue too easy, that memory + stood behind him, tempting to shame, when dealers came to buy his wares. + As the Nilghai quaked against his will at the still green water of a lake + or a mill-dam, as Torpenhow flinched before any white arm that could cut + or stab and loathed himself for flinching, Dick feared the poverty he had + once tasted half in jest. His burden was heavier than the burdens of his + companions. + </p> + <p> + Maisie watched the face working in the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + 'You've plenty of pennies now,' she said soothingly. + </p> + <p> + 'I shall never have enough,' he began, with vicious emphasis. Then, + laughing, 'I shall always be three-pence short in my accounts.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why threepence?' + </p> + <p> + 'I carried a man's bag once from Liverpool Street Station to Blackfriar's + Bridge. It was a sixpenny job,—you needn't laugh; indeed it was,—and + I wanted the money desperately. He only gave me threepence; and he hadn't + even the decency to pay in silver. Whatever money I make, I shall never + get that odd threepence out of the world.' + </p> + <p> + This was not language befitting the man who had preached of the sanctity + of work. It jarred on Maisie, who preferred her payment in applause, + which, since all men desire it, must be of he right. She hunted for her + little purse and gravely took out a threepenny bit. + </p> + <p> + 'There it is,' she said. 'I'll pay you, Dickie; and don't worry any more; + it isn't worth while. Are you paid?' + </p> + <p> + 'I am,' said the very human apostle of fair craft, taking the coin. 'I'm + paid a thousand times, and we'll close that account. It shall live on my + watch-chain; and you're an angel, Maisie.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm very cramped, and I'm feeling a little cold. Good gracious! the cloak + is all white, and so is your moustache! I never knew it was so chilly.' + </p> + <p> + A light frost lay white on the shoulder of Dick's ulster. He, too, had + forgotten the state of the weather. They laughed together, and with that + laugh ended all serious discourse. + </p> + <p> + They ran inland across the waste to warm themselves, then turned to look + at the glory of the full tide under the moonlight and the intense black + shadows of the furze bushes. It was an additional joy to Dick that Maisie + could see colour even as he saw it,—could see the blue in the white + of the mist, the violet that is in gray palings, and all things else as + they are,—not of one hue, but a thousand. And the moonlight came + into Maisie's soul, so that she, usually reserved, chattered of herself + and of the things she took interest in,—of Kami, wisest of teachers, + and of the girls in the studio,—of the Poles, who will kill + themselves with overwork if they are not checked; of the French, who talk + at great length of much more than they will ever accomplish; of the + slovenly English, who toil hopelessly and cannot understand that + inclination does not imply power; of the Americans, whose rasping voices + in the hush of a hot afternoon strain tense-drawn nerves to + breaking-point, and whose suppers lead to indigestion; of tempestuous + Russians, neither to hold nor to bind, who tell the girls ghost-stories + till the girls shriek; of stolid Germans, who come to learn one thing, + and, having mastered that much, stolidly go away and copy pictures for + evermore. Dick listened enraptured because it was Maisie who spoke. He + knew the old life. + </p> + <p> + 'It hasn't changed much,' he said. 'Do they still steal colours at + lunch-time?' + </p> + <p> + 'Not steal. Attract is the word. Of course they do. I'm good—I only + attract ultramarine; but there are students who'd attract flake-white.' + </p> + <p> + 'I've done it myself. You can't help it when the palettes are hung up. + </p> + <p> + Every colour is common property once it runs down,—even though you + do start it with a drop of oil. It teaches people not to waste their + tubes.' + </p> + <p> + 'I should like to attract some of your colours, Dick. Perhaps I might + catch your success with them.' + </p> + <p> + 'I mustn't say a bad word, but I should like to. What in the world, which + you've just missed a lovely chance of seeing, does success or want of + success, or a three-storied success, matter compared with—— + No, I won't open that question again. It's time to go back to town.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm sorry, Dick, but——' + </p> + <p> + 'You're much more interested in that than you are in me.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know, I don't think I am.' + </p> + <p> + 'What will you give me if I tell you a sure short-cut to everything you + want,—the trouble and the fuss and the tangle and all the rest? Will + you promise to obey me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course.' + </p> + <p> + 'In the first place, you must never forget a meal because you happen to be + at work. You forgot your lunch twice last week,' said Dick, at a venture, + for he knew with whom he was dealing.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, no,—only once, really.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's bad enough. And you mustn't take a cup of tea and a biscuit in + place of a regular dinner, because dinner happens to be a trouble.' + </p> + <p> + 'You're making fun of me!' + </p> + <p> + 'I never was more in earnest in my life. Oh, my love, my love, hasn't it + dawned on you yet what you are to me? Here's the whole earth in a + conspiracy to give you a chill, or run over you, or drench you to the + skin, or cheat you out of your money, or let you die of overwork and + underfeeding, and I haven't the mere right to look after you. Why, I don't + even know if you have sense enough to put on warm things when the + weather's cold.' + </p> + <p> + 'Dick, you're the most awful boy to talk to—really! How do you + suppose I managed when you were away?' + </p> + <p> + 'I wasn't here, and I didn't know. But now I'm back I'd give everything I + have for the right of telling you to come in out of the rain.' + </p> + <p> + 'Your success too?' + </p> + <p> + This time it cost Dick a severe struggle to refrain from bad words. + </p> + <p> + 'As Mrs. Jennett used to say, you're a trial, Maisie! You've been cooped + up in the schools too long, and you think every one is looking at you. + </p> + <p> + There aren't twelve hundred people in the world who understand pictures. + The others pretend and don't care. Remember, I've seen twelve hundred men + dead in toadstool-beds. It's only the voice of the tiniest little fraction + of people that makes success. The real world doesn't care a tinker's—doesn't + care a bit. For aught you or I know, every man in the world may be arguing + with a Maisie of his own.' + </p> + <p> + 'Poor Maisie!' + </p> + <p> + 'Poor Dick, I think. Do you believe while he's fighting for what's dearer + than his life he wants to look at a picture? And even if he did, and if + all the world did, and a thousand million people rose up and shouted hymns + to my honour and glory, would that make up to me for the knowledge that + you were out shopping in the Edgware Road on a rainy day without an + umbrella? Now we'll go to the station.' + </p> + <p> + 'But you said on the beach——' persisted Maisie, with a certain + fear. + </p> + <p> + Dick groaned aloud: 'Yes, I know what I said. My work is everything I + have, or am, or hope to be, to me, and I believe I've learnt the law that + governs it; but I've some lingering sense of fun left,—though you've + nearly knocked it out of me. I can just see that it isn't everything to + all the world. Do what I say, and not what I do.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie was careful not to reopen debatable matters, and they returned to + London joyously. The terminus stopped Dick in the midst of an eloquent + harangue on the beauties of exercise. He would buy Maisie a horse,—such + a horse as never yet bowed head to bit,—would stable it, with a + companion, some twenty miles from London, and Maisie, solely for her + health's sake should ride with him twice or thrice a week. + </p> + <p> + 'That's absurd,' said she. 'It wouldn't be proper.' + </p> + <p> + 'Now, who in all London to-night would have sufficient interest or + audacity to call us two to account for anything we chose to do?' + </p> + <p> + Maisie looked at the lamps, the fog, and the hideous turmoil. Dick was + right; but horseflesh did not make for Art as she understood it. + </p> + <p> + 'You're very nice sometimes, but you're very foolish more times. I'm not + going to let you give me horses, or take you out of your way to-night. + I'll go home by myself. Only I want you to promise me something. You won't + think any more about that extra threepence, will you? Remember, you've + been paid; and I won't allow you to be spiteful and do bad work for a + little thing like that. You can be so big that you mustn't be tiny.' + </p> + <p> + This was turning the tables with a vengeance. There remained only to put + Maisie into her hansom. + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye,' she said simply. 'You'll come on Sunday. It has been a + beautiful day, Dick. Why can't it be like this always?' + </p> + <p> + 'Because love's like line-work: you must go forward or backward; you can't + stand still. By the way, go on with your line-work. Good-night, and, for + my—for my sake, take care of yourself.' + </p> + <p> + He turned to walk home, meditating. The day had brought him nothing that + he hoped for, but—surely this was worth many days—it had + brought him nearer to Maisie. The end was only a question of time now, and + the prize well worth the waiting. By instinct, once more, he turned to the + river. + </p> + <p> + 'And she understood at once,' he said, looking at the water. 'She found + out my pet besetting sin on the spot, and paid it off. My God, how she + understood! And she said I was better than she was! Better than she was!' + He laughed at the absurdity of the notion. 'I wonder if girls guess at + one-half a man's life. They can't, or—they wouldn't marry us.' He + took her gift out of his pocket, and considered it in the light of a + miracle and a pledge of the comprehension that, one day, would lead to + perfect happiness. Meantime, Maisie was alone in London, with none to save + her from danger. And the packed wilderness was very full of danger. + </p> + <p> + Dick made his prayer to Fate disjointedly after the manner of the heathen + as he threw the piece of silver into the river. If any evil were to befal, + let him bear the burden and let Maisie go unscathed, since the threepenny + piece was dearest to him of all his possessions. It was a small coin in + itself, but Maisie had given it, and the Thames held it, and surely the + Fates would be bribed for this once. + </p> + <p> + The drowning of the coin seemed to cut him free from thought of Maisie for + the moment. He took himself off the bridge and went whistling to his + chambers with a strong yearning for some man-talk and tobacco after his + first experience of an entire day spent in the society of a woman. There + was a stronger desire at his heart when there rose before him an + unsolicited vision of the Barralong dipping deep and sailing free for the + Southern Cross. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + And these two, as I have told you, + Were the friends of Hiawatha, + Chibiabos, the musician, + And the very strong man, Kwasind. + + —Hiawatha. +</pre> + <p> + TORPENHOW was paging the last sheets of some manuscript, while the + Nilghai, who had come for chess and remained to talk tactics, was reading + through the first part, commenting scornfully the while. + </p> + <p> + 'It's picturesque enough and it's sketchy,' said he; 'but as a serious + consideration of affairs in Eastern Europe, it's not worth much.' + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +'It's off my hands at any rate.... Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, +thirty-nine slips altogether, aren't there? That should make between +eleven and twelve pages of valuable misinformation. Heigho!' Torpenhow +shuffled the writing together and hummed— + + Young lambs to sell, young lambs to sell, + If I'd as much money as I could tell, + I never would cry, Young lambs to sell! +</pre> + <p> + Dick entered, self-conscious and a little defiant, but in the best of + tempers with all the world. + </p> + <p> + 'Back at last?' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'More or less. What have you been doing?' + </p> + <p> + 'Work. Dickie, you behave as though the Bank of England were behind you. + Here's Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday gone and you haven't done a line. It's + scandalous.' + </p> + <p> + 'The notions come and go, my children—they come and go like our + 'baccy,' he answered, filling his pipe. 'Moreover,' he stooped to thrust a + spill into the grate, 'Apollo does not always stretch his—— + Oh, confound your clumsy jests, Nilghai!' + </p> + <p> + 'This is not the place to preach the theory of direct inspiration,' said + the Nilghai, returning Torpenhow's large and workmanlike bellows to their + nail on the wall. 'We believe in cobblers' wax. La!—where you sit + down.' + </p> + <p> + 'If you weren't so big and fat,' said Dick, looking round for a weapon, + 'I'd——' + </p> + <p> + 'No skylarking in my rooms. You two smashed half my furniture last time + you threw the cushions about. You might have the decency to say How d'you + do? to Binkie. Look at him.' + </p> + <p> + Binkie had jumped down from the sofa and was fawning round Dick's knee, + and scratching at his boots. + </p> + <p> + 'Dear man!' said Dick, snatching him up, and kissing him on the black + patch above his right eye. 'Did ums was, Binks? Did that ugly Nilghai turn + you off the sofa? Bite him, Mr. Binkie.' He pitched him on the Nilghai's + stomach, as the big man lay at ease, and Binkie pretended to destroy the + Nilghai inch by inch, till a sofa cushion extinguished him, and panting he + stuck out his tongue at the company. + </p> + <p> + 'The Binkie-boy went for a walk this morning before you were up, Torp. + </p> + <p> + I saw him making love to the butcher at the corner when the shutters were + being taken down—just as if he hadn't enough to eat in his own + proper house,' said Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'Binks, is that a true bill?' said Torpenhow, severely. The little dog + retreated under the sofa cushion, and showed by the fat white back of him + that he really had no further interest in the discussion. + </p> + <p> + 'Strikes me that another disreputable dog went for a walk, too,' said the + Nilghai. 'What made you get up so early? Torp said you might be buying a + horse.' + </p> + <p> + 'He knows it would need three of us for a serious business like that. No, + I felt lonesome and unhappy, so I went out to look at the sea, and watch + the pretty ships go by.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where did you go?' + </p> + <p> + 'Somewhere on the Channel. Progly or Snigly, or some watering-place was + its name; I've forgotten; but it was only two hours' run from London and + the ships went by.' + </p> + <p> + 'Did you see anything you knew?' + </p> + <p> + 'Only the Barralong outwards to Australia, and an Odessa grain-boat loaded + down by the head. It was a thick day, but the sea smelt good.' + </p> + <p> + 'Wherefore put on one's best trousers to see the Barralong?' said + Torpenhow, pointing. + </p> + <p> + 'Because I've nothing except these things and my painting duds. Besides, I + wanted to do honour to the sea.' + </p> + <p> + 'Did She make you feel restless?' asked the Nilghai, keenly. + </p> + <p> + 'Crazy. Don't speak of it. I'm sorry I went.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow and the Nilghai exchanged a look as Dick, stooping, busied + himself among the former's boots and trees. + </p> + <p> + 'These will do,' he said at last; 'I can't say I think much of your taste + in slippers, but the fit's the thing.' He slipped his feet into a pair of + sock-like sambhur-skin foot coverings, found a long chair, and lay at + length. + </p> + <p> + 'They're my own pet pair,' Torpenhow said. 'I was just going to put them + on myself.' + </p> + <p> + 'All your reprehensible selfishness. Just because you see me happy for a + minute, you want to worry me and stir me up. Find another pair.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good for you that Dick can't wear your clothes, Torp. You two live + communistically,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'Dick never has anything that I can wear. He's only useful to sponge + upon.' + </p> + <p> + 'Confound you, have you been rummaging round among my clothes, then?' said + Dick. 'I put a sovereign in the tobacco-jar yesterday. How do you expect a + man to keep his accounts properly if you——' + </p> + <p> + Here the Nilghai began to laugh, and Torpenhow joined him. + </p> + <p> + 'Hid a sovereign yesterday! You're no sort of financier. You lent me a + fiver about a month back. Do you remember?' Torpenhow said. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, of course.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember that I paid it you ten days later, and you put it at the + bottom of the tobacco?' + </p> + <p> + 'By Jove, did I? I thought it was in one of my colour-boxes.' + </p> + <p> + 'You thought! About a week ago I went into your studio to get some 'baccy + and found it.' + </p> + <p> + 'What did you do with it?' + </p> + <p> + 'Took the Nilghai to a theatre and fed him.' + </p> + <p> + 'You couldn't feed the Nilghai under twice the money—not though you + gave him Army beef. Well, I suppose I should have found it out sooner or + later. What is there to laugh at?' + </p> + <p> + 'You're a most amazing cuckoo in many directions,' said the Nilghai, still + chuckling over the thought of the dinner. 'Never mind. We had both been + working very hard, and it was your unearned increment we spent, and as + you're only a loafer it didn't matter.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's pleasant—from the man who is bursting with my meat, too. + I'll get that dinner back one of these days. Suppose we go to a theatre + now.' + </p> + <p> + 'Put our boots on,—and dress,—and wash?' The Nilghai spoke + very lazily. + </p> + <p> + 'I withdraw the motion.' + </p> + <p> + 'Suppose, just for a change—as a startling variety, you know—we, + that is to say we, get our charcoal and our canvas and go on with our + work.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow spoke pointedly, but Dick only wriggled his toes inside the soft + leather moccasins. + </p> + <p> + 'What a one-ideaed clucker that is! If I had any unfinished figures on + hand, I haven't any model; if I had my model, I haven't any spray, and I + never leave charcoal unfixed overnight; and if I had my spray and twenty + photographs of backgrounds, I couldn't do anything to-night. I don't feel + that way.' + </p> + <p> + 'Binkie-dog, he's a lazy hog, isn't he?' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'Very good, I will do some work,' said Dick, rising swiftly. 'I'll fetch + the Nungapunga Book, and we'll add another picture to the Nilghai Saga.' + </p> + <p> + 'Aren't you worrying him a little too much?' asked the Nilghai, when Dick + had left the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Perhaps, but I know what he can turn out if he likes. It makes me savage + to hear him praised for past work when I know what he ought to do. You and + I are arranged for——' + </p> + <p> + 'By Kismet and our own powers, more's the pity. I have dreamed of a good + deal.' + </p> + <p> + 'So have I, but we know our limitations now. I'm dashed if I know what + Dick's may be when he gives himself to his work. That's what makes me so + keen about him.' + </p> + <p> + 'And when all's said and done, you will be put aside—quite rightly—for + a female girl.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wonder... Where do you think he has been to-day?' + </p> + <p> + 'To the sea. Didn't you see the look in his eyes when he talked about her? + He's as restless as a swallow in autumn.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; but did he go alone?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know, and I don't care, but he has the beginnings of the go-fever + upon him. He wants to up-stakes and move out. There's no mistaking the + signs. Whatever he may have said before, he has the call upon him now.' + </p> + <p> + 'It might be his salvation,' Torpenhow said. + </p> + <p> + 'Perhaps—if you care to take the responsibility of being a saviour.' + </p> + <p> + Dick returned with the big clasped sketch-book that the Nilghai knew well + and did not love too much. In it Dick had drawn all manner of moving + incidents, experienced by himself or related to him by the others, of all + the four corners of the earth. But the wider range of the Nilghai's body + and life attracted him most. When truth failed he fell back on fiction of + the wildest, and represented incidents in the Nilghai's career that were + unseemly,—his marriages with many African princesses, his shameless + betrayal, for Arab wives, of an army corps to the Mahdi, his tattooment by + skilled operators in Burmah, his interview (and his fears) with the yellow + headsman in the blood-stained execution-ground of Canton, and finally, the + passings of his spirit into the bodies of whales, elephants, and toucans. + Torpenhow from time to time had added rhymed descriptions, and the whole + was a curious piece of art, because Dick decided, having regard to the + name of the book which being interpreted means 'naked,' that it would be + wrong to draw the Nilghai with any clothes on, under any circumstances. + Consequently the last sketch, representing that much-enduring man calling + on the War Office to press his claims to the Egyptian medal, was hardly + delicate. He settled himself comfortably on Torpenhow's table and turned + over the pages. + </p> + <p> + 'What a fortune you would have been to Blake, Nilghai!' he said. 'There's + a succulent pinkness about some of these sketches that's more than + life-like. "The Nilghai surrounded while bathing by the Mahdieh"—that + was founded on fact, eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'It was very nearly my last bath, you irreverent dauber. Has Binkie come + into the Saga yet?' + </p> + <p> + 'No; the Binkie-boy hasn't done anything except eat and kill cats. Let's + see. Here you are as a stained-glass saint in a church. Deuced decorative + lines about your anatomy; you ought to be grateful for being handed down + to posterity in this way. Fifty years hence you'll exist in rare and + curious facsimiles at ten guineas each. What shall I try this time? The + domestic life of the Nilghai?' + </p> + <p> + 'Hasn't got any.' + </p> + <p> + 'The undomestic life of the Nilghai, then. Of course. Mass-meeting of his + wives in Trafalgar Square. That's it. They came from the ends of the earth + to attend Nilghai's wedding to an English bride. This shall be an epic. + It's a sweet material to work with.' + </p> + <p> + 'It's a scandalous waste of time,' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't worry; it keeps one's hand in—specially when you begin + without the pencil.' He set to work rapidly. 'That's Nelson's Column. + Presently the Nilghai will appear shinning up it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Give him some clothes this time.' + </p> + <p> + 'Certainly—a veil and an orange-wreath, because he's been married.' + </p> + <p> + 'Gad, that's clever enough!' said Torpenhow over his shoulder, as Dick + brought out of the paper with three twirls of the brush a very fat back + and labouring shoulder pressed against stone. + </p> + <p> + 'Just imagine,' Dick continued, 'if we could publish a few of these dear + little things every time the Nilghai subsidises a man who can write, to + give the public an honest opinion of my pictures.' + </p> + <p> + 'Well, you'll admit I always tell you when I have done anything of that + kind. I know I can't hammer you as you ought to be hammered, so I give the + job to another. Young Maclagan, for instance——' + </p> + <p> + 'No-o—one half-minute, old man; stick your hand out against the dark + of the wall-paper—you only burble and call me names. That left + shoulder's out of drawing. I must literally throw a veil over that. + Where's my pen-knife? Well, what about Maclagan?' + </p> + <p> + 'I only gave him his riding-orders to—to lambast you on general + principles for not producing work that will last.' + </p> + <p> + 'Whereupon that young fool,'—Dick threw back his head and shut one + eye as he shifted the page under his hand,—'being left alone with an + ink-pot and what he conceived were his own notions, went and spilt them + both over me in the papers. You might have engaged a grown man for the + business, Nilghai. How do you think the bridal veil looks now, Torp?' + </p> + <p> + 'How the deuce do three dabs and two scratches make the stuff stand away + from the body as it does?' said Torpenhow, to whom Dick's methods were + always new. + </p> + <p> + 'It just depends on where you put 'em. If Maclagan had know that much + about his business he might have done better.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why don't you put the damned dabs into something that will stay, then?' + insisted the Nilghai, who had really taken considerable trouble in hiring + for Dick's benefit the pen of a young gentleman who devoted most of his + waking hours to an anxious consideration of the aims and ends of Art, + which, he wrote, was one and indivisible. + </p> + <p> + 'Wait a minute till I see how I am going to manage my procession of wives. + You seem to have married extensively, and I must rough 'em in with the + pencil—Medes, Parthians, Edomites.... Now, setting aside the + weakness and the wickedness and—and the fat-headedness of + deliberately trying to do work that will live, as they call it, I'm + content with the knowledge that I've done my best up to date, and I shan't + do anything like it again for some hours at least—probably years. + Most probably never.' + </p> + <p> + 'What! any stuff you have in stock your best work?' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'Anything you've sold?' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh no. It isn't here and it isn't sold. Better than that, it can't be + sold, and I don't think any one knows where it is. I'm sure I don't.... + And yet more and more wives, on the north side of the square. Observe the + virtuous horror of the lions!' + </p> + <p> + 'You may as well explain,' said Torpenhow, and Dick lifted his head from + the paper. + </p> + <p> + 'The sea reminded me of it,' he said slowly. 'I wish it hadn't. It weighs + some few thousand tons—unless you cut it out with a cold chisel.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't be an idiot. You can't pose with us here,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'There's no pose in the matter at all. It's a fact. I was loafing from + Lima to Auckland in a big, old, condemned passenger-ship turned into a + cargo-boat and owned by a second-had Italian firm. She was a crazy basket. + We were cut down to fifteen ton of coal a day, and we thought ourselves + lucky when we kicked seven knots an hour out of her. Then we used to stop + and let the bearings cool down, and wonder whether the crack in the shaft + was spreading.' + </p> + <p> + 'Were you a steward or a stoker in those days?' + </p> + <p> + 'I was flush for the time being, so I was a passenger, or else I should + have been a steward, I think,' said Dick, with perfect gravity, returning + to the procession of angry wives. 'I was the only other passenger from + Lima, and the ship was half empty, and full of rats and cockroaches and + scorpions.' + </p> + <p> + 'But what has this to do with the picture?' + </p> + <p> + 'Wait a minute. She had been in the China passenger trade and her lower + decks had bunks for two thousand pigtails. Those were all taken down, and + she was empty up to her nose, and the lights came through the port holes—most + annoying lights to work in till you got used to them. I hadn't anything to + do for weeks. The ship's charts were in pieces and our skipper daren't run + south for fear of catching a storm. So he did his best to knock all the + Society Islands out of the water one by one, and I went into the lower + deck, and did my picture on the port side as far forward in her as I could + go. There was some brown paint and some green paint that they used for the + boats, and some black paint for ironwork, and that was all I had.' + </p> + <p> + 'The passengers must have thought you mad.' + </p> + <p> + 'There was only one, and it was a woman; but it gave me the notion of my + picture.' + </p> + <p> + 'What was she like?' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'She was a sort of Negroid-Jewess-Cuban; with morals to match. She + couldn't read or write, and she didn't want to, but she used to come down + and watch me paint, and the skipper didn't like it, because he was paying + her passage and had to be on the bridge occasionally.' + </p> + <p> + 'I see. That must have been cheerful.' + </p> + <p> + 'It was the best time I ever had. To begin with, we didn't know whether we + should go up or go down any minute when there was a sea on; and when it + was calm it was paradise; and the woman used to mix the paints and talk + broken English, and the skipper used to steal down every few minutes to + the lower deck, because he said he was afraid of fire. So, you see, we + could never tell when we might be caught, and I had a splendid notion to + work out in only three keys of colour.' + </p> + <p> + 'What was the notion?' + </p> + <p> + 'Two lines in Poe— + </p> + <p> + Neither the angles in Heaven above nor the demons down under the sea, Can + ever dissever my soul from the soul of the beautiful Annabel Lee. + </p> + <p> + It came out of the sea—all by itself. I drew that fight, fought out + in green water over the naked, choking soul, and the woman served as the + model for the devils and the angels both—sea-devils and sea-angels, + and the soul half drowned between them. It doesn't sound much, but when + there was a good light on the lower deck it looked very fine and creepy. + It was seven by fourteen feet, all done in shifting light for shifting + light.' + </p> + <p> + 'Did the woman inspire you much?' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'She and the sea between them—immensely. There was a heap of bad + drawing in that picture. I remember I went out of my way to foreshorten + for sheer delight of doing it, and I foreshortened damnably, but for all + that it's the best thing I've ever done; and now I suppose the ship's + broken up or gone down. Whew! What a time that was!' + </p> + <p> + 'What happened after all?' + </p> + <p> + 'It all ended. They were loading her with wool when I left the ship, but + even the stevedores kept the picture clear to the last. The eyes of the + demons scared them, I honestly believe.' + </p> + <p> + 'And the woman?' + </p> + <p> + 'She was scared too when it was finished. She used to cross herself before + she went down to look at it. Just three colours and no chance of getting + any more, and the sea outside and unlimited love-making inside, and the + fear of death atop of everything else, O Lord!' He had ceased to look at + the sketch, but was staring straight in front of him across the room. + </p> + <p> + 'Why don't you try something of the same kind now?' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'Because those things come not by fasting and prayer. When I find a + cargo-boat and a Jewess-Cuban and another notion and the same old life, I + may.' + </p> + <p> + 'You won't find them here,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'No, I shall not.' Dick shut the sketch-book with a bang. 'This room's as + hot as an oven. Open the window, some one.' + </p> + <p> + He leaned into the darkness, watching the greater darkness of London below + him. The chambers stood much higher than the other houses, commanding a + hundred chimneys—crooked cowls that looked like sitting cats as they + swung round, and other uncouth brick and zinc mysteries supported by iron + stanchions and clamped by 8-pieces. Northward the lights of Piccadilly + Circus and Leicester Square threw a copper-coloured glare above the black + roofs, and southward by all the orderly lights of the Thames. A train + rolled out across one of the railway bridges, and its thunder drowned for + a minute the dull roar of the streets. The Nilghai looked at his watch and + said shortly, 'That's the Paris night-mail. You can book from here to St. + Petersburg if you choose.' + </p> + <p> + Dick crammed head and shoulders out of the window and looked across the + river. Torpenhow came to his side, while the Nilghai passed over quietly + to the piano and opened it. Binkie, making himself as large as possible, + spread out upon the sofa with the air of one who is not to be lightly + disturbed. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' said the Nilghai to the two pairs of shoulders, 'have you never + seen this place before?' + </p> + <p> + A steam-tug on the river hooted as she towed her barges to wharf. Then the + boom of the traffic came into the room. Torpenhow nudged Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'Good place to bank in—bad place to bunk in, Dickie, isn't it?' + </p> + <p> + Dick's chin was in his hand as he answered, in the words of a general not + without fame, still looking out on the darkness—'"My God, what a + city to loot!"' + </p> + <p> + Binkie found the night air tickling his whiskers and sneezed plaintively. + </p> + <p> + 'We shall give the Binkie-dog a cold,' said Torpenhow. 'Come in,' and they + withdrew their heads. 'You'll be buried in Kensal Green, Dick, one of + these days, if it isn't closed by the time you want to go there—buried + within two feet of some one else, his wife and his family.' + </p> + <p> + 'Allah forbid! I shall get away before that time comes. Give a man room to + stretch his legs, Mr. Binkie.' Dick flung himself down on the sofa and + tweaked Binkie's velvet ears, yawning heavily the while. + </p> + <p> + 'You'll find that wardrobe-case very much out of tune,' Torpenhow said to + the Nilghai. 'It's never touched except by you.' + </p> + <p> + 'A piece of gross extravagance,' Dick grunted. 'The Nilghai only comes + when I'm out.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's because you're always out. Howl, Nilghai, and let him hear.' + </p> + <p> + 'The life of the Nilghai is fraud and slaughter, His writings are watered + Dickens and water; But the voice of the Nilghai raised on high Makes even + the Mahdieh glad to die!' + </p> + <p> + Dick quoted from Torpenhow's letterpress in the Nungapunga Book. + </p> + <p> + 'How do they call moose in Canada, Nilghai?' + </p> + <p> + The man laughed. Singing was his one polite accomplishment, as many + Press-tents in far-off lands had known. + </p> + <p> + 'What shall I sing?' said he, turning in the chair. + </p> + <p> + '"Moll Roe in the Morning,"' said Torpenhow, at a venture. + </p> + <p> + 'No,' said Dick, sharply, and the Nilghai opened his eyes. The old chanty + whereof he, among a very few, possessed all the words was not a pretty + one, but Dick had heard it many times before without wincing. Without + prelude he launched into that stately tune that calls together and + troubles the hearts of the gipsies of the sea— + </p> + <p> + 'Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish ladies, Farewell and adieu to you, + ladies of Spain.' + </p> + <p> + Dick turned uneasily on the sofa, for he could hear the bows of the + Barralong crashing into the green seas on her way to the Southern Cross. + </p> + <p> + Then came the chorus— + </p> + <p> + 'We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors, We'll rant and we'll + roar across the salt seas, Until we take soundings in the Channel of Old + England From Ushant to Scilly 'tis forty-five leagues.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thirty-five-thirty-five,' said Dick, petulantly. 'Don't tamper with Holy + Writ. Go on, Nilghai.' + </p> + <p> + 'The first land we made it was called the Deadman,' and they sang to the + end very vigourously. + </p> + <p> + 'That would be a better song if her head were turned the other way—to + the Ushant light, for instance,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'Flinging his arms about like a mad windmill,' said Torpenhow. 'Give us + something else, Nilghai. You're in fine fog-horn form tonight.' + </p> + <p> + 'Give us the "Ganges Pilot"; you sang that in the square the night before + El-Maghrib. By the way, I wonder how many of the chorus are alive + to-night,' said Dick. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow considered for a minute. 'By Jove! I believe only you and I. + </p> + <p> + Raynor, Vicery, and Deenes—all dead; Vincent caught smallpox in + Cairo, carried it here and died of it. Yes, only you and I and the + Nilghai.' + </p> + <p> + 'Umph! And yet the men here who've done their work in a well-warmed studio + all their lives, with a policeman at each corner, say that I charge too + much for my pictures.' + </p> + <p> + 'They are buying your work, not your insurance policies, dear child,' said + the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'I gambled with one to get at the other. Don't preach. Go on with the + "Pilot." Where in the world did you get that song?' + </p> + <p> + 'On a tombstone,' said the Nilghai. 'On a tombstone in a distant land. I + made it an accompaniment with heaps of base chords.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Vanity! Begin.' And the Nilghai began— + </p> + <p> + 'I have slipped my cable, messmates, I'm drifting down with the tide, I + have my sailing orders, while yet an anchor ride. + </p> + <p> + And never on fair June morning have I put out to sea With clearer + conscience or better hope, or a heart more light and free. + </p> + <p> + 'Shoulder to shoulder, Joe, my boy, into the crowd like a wedge Strike + with the hangers, messmates, but do not cut with the edge. + </p> + <p> + Cries Charnock, "Scatter the faggots, double that Brahmin in two, The tall + pale widow for me, Joe, the little brown girl for you!" + </p> + <p> + 'Young Joe (you're nearing sixty), why is your hide so dark? Katie has + soft fair blue eyes, who blackened yours?—Why, hark!' + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +They were all singing now, Dick with the roar of the wind of the open +sea about his ears as the deep bass voice let itself go. + + 'The morning gun— + Ho, steady! the arquebuses to me! + I ha' sounded the Dutch High Admiral's heart + As my lead doth sound the sea. +</pre> + <p> + 'Sounding, sounding the Ganges, floating down with the tide, Moore me + close to Charnock, next to my nut-brown bride. + </p> + <p> + My blessing to Kate at Fairlight—Holwell, my thanks to you; Steady! + We steer for heaven, through sand-drifts cold and blue.' + </p> + <p> + 'Now what is there in that nonsense to make a man restless?' said Dick, + hauling Binkie from his feet to his chest. + </p> + <p> + 'It depends on the man,' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'The man who has been down to look at the sea,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't know she was going to upset me in this fashion.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's what men say when they go to say good-bye to a woman. It's more + easy though to get rid of three women than a piece of one's life and + surroundings.' + </p> + <p> + 'But a woman can be——' began Dick, unguardedly. + </p> + <p> + 'A piece of one's life,' continued Torpenhow. 'No, she can't. His face + darkened for a moment. 'She says she wants to sympathise with you and help + you in your work, and everything else that clearly a man must do for + himself. Then she sends round five notes a day to ask why the dickens you + haven't been wasting your time with her.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't generalise,' said the Nilghai. 'By the time you arrive at five + notes a day you must have gone through a good deal and behaved + accordingly. + </p> + <p> + Shouldn't begin these things, my son.' + </p> + <p> + 'I shouldn't have gone down to the sea,' said Dick, just a little anxious + to change the conversation. 'And you shouldn't have sung.' + </p> + <p> + 'The sea isn't sending you five notes a day,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'No, but I'm fatally compromised. She's an enduring old hag, and I'm sorry + I ever met her. Why wasn't I born and bred and dead in a three-pair back?' + </p> + <p> + 'Hear him blaspheming his first love! Why in the world shouldn't you + listen to her?' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + Before Dick could reply the Nilghai lifted up his voice with a shout that + shook the windows, in 'The Men of the Sea,' that begins, as all know, 'The + sea is a wicked old woman,' and after rading through eight lines whose + imagery is truthful, ends in a refrain, slow as the clacking of a capstan + when the boat comes unwillingly up to the bars where the men sweat and + tramp in the shingle. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + '"Ye that bore us, O restore us! + She is kinder than ye; + For the call is on our heart-strings!" + Said The Men of the Sea.' +</pre> + <p> + The Nilghai sang that verse twice, with simple cunning, intending that + Dick should hear. But Dick was waiting for the farewell of the men to + their wives. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + '"Ye that love us, can ye move us? + She is dearer than ye; + And your sleep will be the sweeter," + Said The Men of the Sea.' +</pre> + <p> + The rough words beat like the blows of the waves on the bows of the + rickety boat from Lima in the days when Dick was mixing paints, making + love, drawing devils and angels in the half dark, and wondering whether + the next minute would put the Italian captain's knife between his + shoulder-blades. And the go-fever which is more real than many doctors' + diseases, waked and raged, urging him who loved Maisie beyond anything in + the world, to go away and taste the old hot, unregenerate life again,—to + scuffle, swear, gamble, and love light loves with his fellows; to take + ship and know the sea once more, and by her beget pictures; to talk to + Binat among the sands of Port Said while Yellow 'Tina mixed the drinks; to + hear the crackle of musketry, and see the smoke roll outward, thin and + thicken again till the shining black faces came through, and in that hell + every man was strictly responsible for his own head, and his own alone, + and struck with an unfettered arm. It was impossible, utterly impossible, + but— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + '"Oh, our fathers in the churchyard, + She is older than ye, + And our graves will be the greener," + Said The Men of the Sea.' +</pre> + <p> + 'What is there to hinder?' said Torpenhow, in the long hush that followed + the song. + </p> + <p> + 'You said a little time since that you wouldn't come for a walk round the + world, Torp.' + </p> + <p> + 'That was months ago, and I only objected to your making money for + travelling expenses. You've shot your bolt here and it has gone home. Go + away and do some work, and see some things.' + </p> + <p> + 'Get some of the fat off you; you're disgracefully out of condition,' said + the Nilghai, making a plunge from the chair and grasping a handful of Dick + generally over the right ribs. 'Soft as putty—pure tallow born of + over-feeding. Train it off, Dickie.' + </p> + <p> + 'We're all equally gross, Nilghai. Next time you have to take the field + you'll sit down, wink your eyes, gasp, and die in a fit.' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind. You go away on a ship. Go to Lima again, or to Brazil. + </p> + <p> + There's always trouble in South America.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do you suppose I want to be told where to go? Great Heavens, the only + difficulty is to know where I'm to stop. But I shall stay here, as I told + you before.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then you'll be buried in Kensal Green and turn into adipocere with the + others,' said Torpenhow. 'Are you thinking of commissions in hand? Pay + forfeit and go. You've money enough to travel as a king if you please.' + </p> + <p> + 'You've the grisliest notions of amusement, Torp. I think I see myself + shipping first class on a six-thousand-ton hotel, and asking the third + engineer what makes the engines go round, and whether it isn't very warm + in the stokehold. Ho! ho! I should ship as a loafer if ever I shipped at + all, which I'm not going to do. I shall compromise, and go for a small + trip to begin with.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's something at any rate. Where will you go?' said Torpenhow. 'It + would do you all the good in the world, old man.' + </p> + <p> + The Nilghai saw the twinkle in Dick's eye, and refrained from speech. + </p> + <p> + 'I shall go in the first place to Rathray's stable, where I shall hire one + horse, and take him very carefully as far as Richmond Hill. Then I shall + walk him back again, in case he should accidentally burst into a lather + and make Rathray angry. I shall do that to-morrow, for the sake of air and + exercise.' + </p> + <p> + 'Bah!' Dick had barely time to throw up his arm and ward off the cushion + that the disgusted Torpenhow heaved at his head. + </p> + <p> + 'Air and exercise indeed,' said the Nilghai, sitting down heavily on Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'Let's give him a little of both. Get the bellows, Torp.' + </p> + <p> + At this point the conference broke up in disorder, because Dick would not + open his mouth till the Nilghai held his nose fast, and there was some + trouble in forcing the nozzle of the bellows between his teeth; and even + when it was there he weakly tried to puff against the force of the blast, + and his cheeks blew up with a great explosion; and the enemy becoming + helpless with laughter he so beat them over the head with a soft sofa + cushion that that became unsewn and distributed its feathers, and Binkie, + interfering in Torpenhow's interests, was bundled into the half-empty bag + and advised to scratch his way out, which he did after a while, travelling + rapidly up and down the floor in the shape of an agitated green haggis, + and when he came out looking for satisfaction, the three pillars of his + world were picking feathers out of their hair. + </p> + <p> + 'A prophet has no honour in his own country,' said Dick, ruefully, dusting + his knees. 'This filthy fluff will never brush off my legs.' + </p> + <p> + 'It was all for your own good,' said the Nilghai. 'Nothing like air and + exercise.' + </p> + <p> + 'All for your good,' said Torpenhow, not in the least with reference to + past clowning. 'It would let you focus things at their proper worth and + prevent your becoming slack in this hothouse of a town. Indeed it would, + old man. I shouldn't have spoken if I hadn't thought so. Only, you make a + joke of everything.' + </p> + <p> + 'Before God I do no such thing,' said Dick, quickly and earnestly. 'You + don't know me if you think that.' + </p> + <p> + I don't think it,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'How can fellows like ourselves, who know what life and death really mean, + dare to make a joke of anything? I know we pretend it, to save ourselves + from breaking down or going to the other extreme. Can't I see, old man, + how you're always anxious about me, and try to advise me to make my work + better? Do you suppose I don't think about that myself? But you can't help + me—you can't help me—not even you. I must play my own hand + alone in my own way.' + </p> + <p> + 'Hear, hear,' from the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the one thing in the Nilghai Saga that I've never drawn in the + Nungapunga Book?' Dick continued to Torpenhow, who was a little astonished + at the outburst. + </p> + <p> + Now there was one blank page in the book given over to the sketch that + Dick had not drawn of the crowning exploit in the Nilghai's life; when + that man, being young and forgetting that his body and bones belonged to + the paper that employed him, had ridden over sunburned slippery grass in + the rear of Bredow's brigade on the day that the troopers flung themselves + at Caurobert's artillery, and for aught they knew twenty battalions in + front, to save the battered 24th German Infantry, to give time to decide + the fate of Vionville, and to learn ere their remnant came back to + Flavigay that cavalry can attack and crumple and break unshaken infantry. + Whenever he was inclined to think over a life that might have been better, + an income that might have been larger, and a soul that might have been + considerably cleaner, the Nilghai would comfort himself with the thought, + 'I rode with Bredow's brigade at Vionville,' and take heart for any lesser + battle the next day might bring. + </p> + <p> + 'I know,' he said very gravely. 'I was always glad that you left it out.' + </p> + <p> + 'I left it out because Nilghai taught me what the Germany army learned + then, and what Schmidt taught their cavalry. I don't know German. + </p> + <p> + What is it? "Take care of the time and the dressing will take care of + itself." I must ride my own line to my own beat, old man.' + </p> + <p> + 'Tempe ist richtung. You've learned your lesson well,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'He must go alone. He speaks truth, Torp.' + </p> + <p> + 'Maybe I'm as wrong as I can be—hideously wrong. I must find that + out for myself, as I have to think things out for myself, but I daren't + turn my head to dress by the next man. It hurts me a great deal more than + you know not to be able to go, but I cannot, that's all. I must do my own + work and live my own life in my own way, because I'm responsible for both. + </p> + <p> + Only don't think I frivol about it, Torp. I have my own matches and + sulphur, and I'll make my own hell, thanks.' + </p> + <p> + There was an uncomfortable pause. Then Torpenhow said blandly, 'What did + the Governor of North Carolina say to the Governor of South Carolina?' + </p> + <p> + 'Excellent notion. It is a long time between drinks. There are the makings + of a very fine prig in you, Dick,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'I've liberated my mind, estimable Binkie, with the feathers in his + mouth.' Dick picked up the still indignant one and shook him tenderly. + </p> + <p> + 'You're tied up in a sack and made to run about blind, Binkie-wee, without + any reason, and it has hurt your little feelings. Never mind. Sic volo, + sic jubeo, stet pro ratione voluntas, and don't sneeze in my eye because I + talk Latin. Good-night.' + </p> + <p> + He went out of the room. + </p> + <p> + 'That's distinctly one for you,' said the Nilghai. 'I told you it was + hopeless to meddle with him. He's not pleased.' + </p> + <p> + 'He'd swear at me if he weren't. I can't make it out. He has the go-fever + upon him and he won't go. I only hope that he mayn't have to go some day + when he doesn't want to,' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + In his own room Dick was settling a question with himself—and the + question was whether all the world, and all that was therein, and a + burning desire to exploit both, was worth one threepenny piece thrown into + the Thames. + </p> + <p> + 'It came of seeing the sea, and I'm a cur to think about it,' he decided. + </p> + <p> + 'After all, the honeymoon will be that tour—with reservations; + only... only I didn't realise that the sea was so strong. I didn't feel it + so much when I was with Maisie. These damnable songs did it. He's + beginning again.' + </p> + <p> + But it was only Herrick's Nightpiece to Julia that the Nilghai sang, and + before it was ended Dick reappeared on the threshold, not altogether + clothed indeed, but in his right mind, thirsty and at peace. + </p> + <p> + The mood had come and gone with the rising and the falling of the tide by + Fort Keeling. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'If I have taken the common clay + And wrought it cunningly + In the shape of a god that was digged a clod, + The greater honour to me.' + + 'If thou hast taken the common clay, + And thy hands be not free + From the taint of the soil, thou hast made thy spoil + The greater shame to thee.'—The Two Potters. +</pre> + <p> + HE DID no work of any kind for the rest of the week. Then came another + Sunday. He dreaded and longed for the day always, but since the red-haired + girl had sketched him there was rather more dread than desire in his mind. + </p> + <p> + He found that Maisie had entirely neglected his suggestions about + line-work. She had gone off at score filed with some absurd notion for a + 'fancy head.' It cost Dick something to command his temper. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the good of suggesting anything?' he said pointedly. + </p> + <p> + 'Ah, but this will be a picture,—a real picture; and I know that + Kami will let me send it to the Salon. You don't mind, do you?' + </p> + <p> + 'I suppose not. But you won't have time for the Salon.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie hesitated a little. She even felt uncomfortable. + </p> + <p> + 'We're going over to France a month sooner because of it. I shall get the + idea sketched out here and work it up at Kami's. + </p> + <p> + Dick's heart stood still, and he came very near to being disgusted with + his queen who could do no wrong. 'Just when I thought I had made some + headway, she goes off chasing butterflies. It's too maddening!' + </p> + <p> + There was no possibility of arguing, for the red-haired girl was in the + studio. Dick could only look unutterable reproach. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'and I think you make a mistake. But what's the idea + of your new picture?' + </p> + <p> + 'I took it from a book.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's bad, to begin with. Books aren't the places for pictures. And——' + </p> + <p> + 'It's this,' said the red-haired girl behind him. 'I was reading it to + Maisie the other day from The City of Dreadful Night. D'you know the + book?' + </p> + <p> + 'A little. I am sorry I spoke. There are pictures in it. What has taken + her fancy?' + </p> + <p> + 'The description of the Melancolia— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Her folded wings as of a mighty eagle, + But all too impotent to lift the regal + Robustness of her earth-born strength and pride. +</pre> + <p> + And here again. (Maisie, get the tea, dear.) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'The forehead charged with baleful thoughts and dreams, + The household bunch of keys, the housewife's gown, + Voluminous indented, and yet rigid + As though a shell of burnished metal frigid, + Her feet thick-shod to tread all weakness down.' +</pre> + <p> + There was no attempt to conceal the scorn of the lazy voice. Dick winced. + </p> + <p> + 'But that has been done already by an obscure artist by the name of + Durer,' said he. 'How does the poem run?— + </p> + <p> + 'Three centuries and threescore years ago, With phantasies of his peculiar + thought. + </p> + <p> + You might as well try to rewrite Hamlet. It will be a waste of time. + </p> + <p> + 'No, it won't,' said Maisie, putting down the teacups with a clatter to + reassure herself. 'And I mean to do it. Can't you see what a beautiful + thing it would make?' + </p> + <p> + 'How in perdition can one do work when one hasn't had the proper training? + Any fool can get a notion. It needs training to drive the thing through,—training + and conviction; not rushing after the first fancy.' Dick spoke between his + teeth. + </p> + <p> + 'You don't understand,' said Maisie. 'I think I can do it.' + </p> + <p> + Again the voice of the girl behind him— + </p> + <p> + 'Baffled and beaten back, she works on still; Weary and sick of soul, she + works the more. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sustained by her indomitable will, + The hands shall fashion, and the brain shall pore, + And all her sorrow shall be turned to labour—— +</pre> + <p> + I fancy Maisie means to embody herself in the picture.' + </p> + <p> + 'Sitting on a throne of rejected pictures? No, I shan't, dear. The notion + in itself has fascinated me.—Of course you don't care for fancy + heads, Dick. + </p> + <p> + I don't think you could do them. You like blood and bones.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's a direct challenge. If you can do a Melancolia that isn't merely a + sorrowful female head, I can do a better one; and I will, too. What d'you + know about Melacolias?' Dick firmly believed that he was even then tasting + three-quarters of all the sorrow in the world. + </p> + <p> + 'She was a woman,' said Maisie, 'and she suffered a great deal,—till + she could suffer no more. Then she began to laugh at it all, and then I + painted her and sent her to the Salon.' + </p> + <p> + The red-haired girl rose up and left the room, laughing. + </p> + <p> + Dick looked at Maisie humbly and hopelessly. + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind about the picture,' he said. 'Are you really going back to + Kami's for a month before your time?' + </p> + <p> + 'I must, if I want to get the picture done.' + </p> + <p> + 'And that's all you want?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course. Don't be stupid, Dick.' + </p> + <p> + 'You haven't the power. You have only the ideas—the ideas and the + little cheap impulses. How you could have kept at your work for ten years + steadily is a mystery to me. So you are really going,—a month before + you need?' + </p> + <p> + 'I must do my work.' + </p> + <p> + 'Your work—bah!... No, I didn't mean that. It's all right, dear. Of + course you must do your work, and—I think I'll say good-bye for this + week.' + </p> + <p> + 'Won't you even stay for tea? 'No, thank you. Have I your leave to go, + dear? There's nothing more you particularly want me to do, and the + line-work doesn't matter.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wish you could stay, and then we could talk over my picture. If only + one single picture's a success, it draws attention to all the others. I + know some of my work is good, if only people could see. And you needn't + have been so rude about it.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm sorry. We'll talk the Melancolia over some one of the other Sundays. + </p> + <p> + There are four more—yes, one, two, three, four—before you go. + Good-bye, Maisie.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie stood by the studio window, thinking, till the red-haired girl + returned, a little white at the corners of her lips. + </p> + <p> + 'Dick's gone off,' said Maisie. 'Just when I wanted to talk about the + picture. Isn't it selfish of him?' + </p> + <p> + Her companion opened her lips as if to speak, shut them again, and went on + reading The City of Dreadful Night. + </p> + <p> + Dick was in the Park, walking round and round a tree that he had chosen as + his confidante for many Sundays past. He was swearing audibly, and when he + found that the infirmities of the English tongue hemmed in his rage, he + sought consolation in Arabic, which is expressly designed for the use of + the afflicted. He was not pleased with the reward of his patient service; + nor was he pleased with himself; and it was long before he arrived at the + proposition that the queen could do no wrong. + </p> + <p> + 'It's a losing game,' he said. 'I'm worth nothing when a whim of hers is + in question. But in a losing game at Port Said we used to double the + stakes and go on. She do a Melancolia! She hasn't the power, or the + insight, or the training. Only the desire. She's cursed with the curse of + Reuben. She won't do line-work, because it means real work; and yet she's + stronger than I am. I'll make her understand that I can beat her on her + own Melancolia. Even then she wouldn't care. She says I can only do blood + and bones. I don't believe she has blood in her veins. All the same I + lover her; and I must go on loving her; and if I can humble her inordinate + vanity I will. I'll do a Melancolia that shall be something like a + Melancolia—"the Melancolia that transcends all wit." I'll do it at + once, con—bless her.' + </p> + <p> + He discovered that the notion would not come to order, and that he could + not free his mind for an hour from the thought of Maisie's departure. He + took very small interest in her rough studies for the Melancolia when she + showed them next week. The Sundays were racing past, and the time was at + hand when all the church bells in London could not ring Maisie back to + him. Once or twice he said something to Binkie about 'hermaphroditic + futilities,' but the little dog received so many confidences both from + Torpenhow and Dick that he did not trouble his tulip-ears to listen. + </p> + <p> + Dick was permitted to see the girls off. They were going by the Dover + night-boat; and they hoped to return in August. It was then February, and + Dick felt that he was being hardly used. Maisie was so busy stripping the + small house across the Park, and packing her canvases, that she had not + time for thought. Dick went down to Dover and wasted a day there fretting + over a wonderful possibility. Would Maisie at the very last allow him one + small kiss? He reflected that he might capture her by the strong arm, as + he had seem women captured in the Southern Soudan, and lead her away; but + Maisie would never be led. She would turn her gray eyes upon him and say, + 'Dick, how selfish you are!' Then his courage would fail him. It would be + better, after all, to beg for that kiss. + </p> + <p> + Maisie looked more than usually kissable as she stepped from the + night-mail on to the windy pier, in a gray waterproof and a little gray + cloth travelling-cap. The red-haired girl was not so lovely. Her green + eyes were hollow and her lips were dry. Dick saw the trunks aboard, and + went to Maisie's side in the darkness under the bridge. The mail-bags were + thundering into the forehold, and the red-haired girl was watching them. + </p> + <p> + 'You'll have a rough passage to-night,' said Dick. 'It's blowing outside. + I suppose I may come over and see you if I'm good?' + </p> + <p> + 'You mustn't. I shall be busy. At least, if I want you I'll send for you. + But I shall write from Vitry-sur-Marne. I shall have heaps of things to + consult you about. Oh, Dick, you have been so good to me!—so good to + me!' + </p> + <p> + 'Thank you for that, dear. It hasn't made any difference, has it?' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't tell a fib. It hasn't—in that way. But don't think I'm not + grateful.' + </p> + <p> + 'Damn the gratitude!' said Dick, huskily, to the paddle-box. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the use of worrying? You know I should ruin your life, and you'd + ruin mine, as things are now. You remember what you said when you were so + angry that day in the Park? One of us has to be broken. + </p> + <p> + Can't you wait till that day comes?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, love. I want you unbroken—all to myself.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie shook her head. 'My poor Dick, what can I say!' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't say anything. Give me a kiss. Only one kiss, Maisie. I'll swear I + won't take any more. You might as well, and then I can be sure you're + grateful.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie put her cheek forward, and Dick took his reward in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + It was only one kiss, but, since there was no time-limit specified, it was + a long one. Maisie wrenched herself free angrily, and Dick stood abashed + and tingling from head to toe. + </p> + <p> + 'Good-bye, darling. I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry. Only—keep + well and do good work,—specially the Melancolia. I'm going to do + one, too. Remember me to Kami, and be careful what you drink. Country + drinking-water is bad everywhere, but it's worse in France. Write to me if + you want anything, and good-bye. Say good-bye to the whatever-you-call-um + girl, and—can't I have another kiss? No. You're quite right. + Good-bye.' + </p> + <p> + A should told him that it was not seemly to charge of the mail-bag + incline. He reached the pier as the steamer began to move off, and he + followed her with his heart. + </p> + <p> + 'And there's nothing—nothing in the wide world—to keep us + apart except her obstinacy. These Calais night-boats are much too small. + I'll get Torp to write to the papers about it. She's beginning to pitch + already.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie stood where Dick had left her till she heard a little gasping cough + at her elbow. The red-haired girl's eyes were alight with cold flame. + </p> + <p> + 'He kissed you!' she said. 'How could you let him, when he wasn't anything + to you? How dared you to take a kiss from him? Oh, Maisie, let's go to the + ladies' cabin. I'm sick,—deadly sick.' + </p> + <p> + 'We aren't into open water yet. Go down, dear, and I'll stay here. I don't + like the smell of the engines.... Poor Dick! He deserved one,—only + one. + </p> + <p> + But I didn't think he'd frighten me so.' + </p> + <p> + Dick returned to town next day just in time for lunch, for which he had + telegraphed. To his disgust, there were only empty plates in the studio. + </p> + <p> + He lifted up his voice like the bears in the fairy-tale, and Torpenhow + entered, looking guilty. + </p> + <p> + 'H'sh!' said he. 'Don't make such a noise. I took it. Come into my rooms, + and I'll show you why.' + </p> + <p> + Dick paused amazed at the threshold, for on Torpenhow's sofa lay a girl + asleep and breathing heavily. The little cheap sailor-hat, the + blue-and-white dress, fitter for June than for February, dabbled with mud + at the skirts, the jacket trimmed with imitation Astrakhan and ripped at + the shoulder-seams, the one-and-elevenpenny umbrella, and, above all, the + disgraceful condition of the kid-topped boots, declared all things. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I say, old man, this is too bad! You mustn't bring this sort up here. + </p> + <p> + They steal things from the rooms.' + </p> + <p> + 'It looks bad, I admit, but I was coming in after lunch, and she staggered + into the hall. I thought she was drunk at first, but it was collapse. I + couldn't leave her as she was, so I brought her up here and gave her your + lunch. She was fainting from want of food. She went fast asleep the minute + she had finished.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know something of that complaint. She's been living on sausages, I + suppose. Torp, you should have handed her over to a policeman for + presuming to faint in a respectable house. Poor little wretch! Look at the + face! There isn't an ounce of immorality in it. Only folly,—slack, + fatuous, feeble, futile folly. It's a typical head. D'you notice how the + skull begins to show through the flesh padding on the face and + cheek-bone?' + </p> + <p> + 'What a cold-blooded barbarian it is! Don't hit a woman when she's down. + Can't we do anything? She was simply dropping with starvation. + </p> + <p> + She almost fell into my arms, and when she got to the food she ate like a + wild beast. It was horrible.' + </p> + <p> + 'I can give her money, which she would probably spend in drinks. Is she + going to sleep for ever?' + </p> + <p> + The girl opened her eyes and glared at the men between terror and + effrontery. + </p> + <p> + 'Feeling better?' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. Thank you. There aren't many gentlemen that are as kind as you are. + Thank you.' + </p> + <p> + 'When did you leave service?' said Dick, who had been watching the scarred + and chapped hands. + </p> + <p> + 'How did you know I was in service? I was. General servant. I didn't like + it.' + </p> + <p> + 'And how do you like being your own mistress?' + </p> + <p> + 'Do I look as if I liked it?' + </p> + <p> + 'I suppose not. One moment. Would you be good enough to turn your face to + the window?' + </p> + <p> + The girl obeyed, and Dick watched her face keenly,—so keenly that + she made as if to hide behind Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'The eyes have it,' said Dick, walking up and down. 'They are superb eyes + for my business. And, after all, every head depends on the eyes. This has + been sent from heaven to make up for—what was taken away. Now the + weekly strain's off my shoulders, I can get to work in earnest. + </p> + <p> + Evidently sent from heaven. Yes. Raise your chin a little, please.' + </p> + <p> + 'Gently, old man, gently. You're scaring somebody out of her wits,' said + Torpenhow, who could see the girl trembling. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't let him hit me! Oh, please don't let him hit me! I've been hit + cruel to-day because I spoke to a man. Don't let him look at me like that! + He's reg'lar wicked, that one. Don't let him look at me like that, + neither! Oh, I feel as if I hadn't nothing on when he looks at me like + that!' + </p> + <p> + The overstrained nerves in the frail body gave way, and the girl wept like + a little child and began to scream. Dick threw open the window, and + Torpenhow flung the door back. + </p> + <p> + 'There you are,' said Dick, soothingly. 'My friend here can call for a + policeman, and you can run through that door. Nobody is going to hurt + you.' + </p> + <p> + The girl sobbed convulsively for a few minutes, and then tried to laugh. + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing in the world to hurt you. Now listen to me for a minute. I'm what + they call an artist by profession. You know what artists do?' + </p> + <p> + 'They draw the things in red and black ink on the pop-shop labels.' + </p> + <p> + 'I dare say. I haven't risen to pop-shop labels yet. Those are done by the + Academicians. I want to draw your head.' + </p> + <p> + 'What for?' + </p> + <p> + 'Because it's pretty. That is why you will come to the room across the + landing three times a week at eleven in the morning, and I'll give you + three quid a week just for sitting still and being drawn. And there's a + quid on account.' + </p> + <p> + 'For nothing? Oh, my!' The girl turned the sovereign in her hand, and with + more foolish tears, 'Ain't neither o' you two gentlemen afraid of my + bilking you?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. Only ugly girls do that. Try and remember this place. And, by the + way, what's your name?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm Bessic,—Bessie—— It's no use giving the rest. + Bessie Broke,—Stone-broke, if you like. What's your names? But + there,—no one ever gives the real ones.' + </p> + <p> + Dick consulted Torpenhow with his eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'My name's Heldar, and my friend's called Torpenhow; and you must be sure + to come here. Where do you live?' + </p> + <p> + 'South-the-water,—one room,—five and sixpence a week. Aren't + you making fun of me about that three quid?' + </p> + <p> + 'You'll see later on. And, Bessie, next time you come, remember, you + needn't wear that paint. It's bad for the skin, and I have all the colours + you'll be likely to need.' + </p> + <p> + Bessie withdrew, scrubbing her cheek with a ragged pocket-handkerchief. + The two men looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + 'You're a man,' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm afraid I've been a fool. It isn't our business to run about the earth + reforming Bessie Brokes. And a woman of any kind has no right on this + landing.' + </p> + <p> + 'Perhaps she won't come back.' + </p> + <p> + 'She will if she thinks she can get food and warmth here. I know she will, + worse luck. But remember, old man, she isn't a woman; she's my model; and + be careful.' + </p> + <p> + 'The idea! She's a dissolute little scarecrow,—a gutter-snippet and + nothing more.' + </p> + <p> + 'So you think. Wait till she has been fed a little and freed from fear. + That fair type recovers itself very quickly. You won't know her in a week + or two, when that abject fear has died out of her eyes. She'll be too + happy and smiling for my purposes.' + </p> + <p> + 'But surely you're not taking her out of charity?—to please me?' + </p> + <p> + 'I am not in the habit of playing with hot coals to please anybody. She + has been sent from heaven, as I may have remarked before, to help me with + my Melancolia.' + </p> + <p> + 'Never heard a word about the lady before.' + </p> + <p> + 'What's the use of having a friend, if you must sling your notions at him + in words? You ought to know what I'm thinking about. You've heard me grunt + lately?' + </p> + <p> + 'Even so; but grunts mean anything in your language, from bad 'baccy to + wicked dealers. And I don't think I've been much in your confidence for + some time.' + </p> + <p> + 'It was a high and soulful grunt. You ought to have understood that it + meant the Melancolia.' Dick walked Torpenhow up and down the room, keeping + silence. Then he smote him in the ribs, 'Now don't you see it? Bessie's + abject futility, and the terror in her eyes, welded on to one or two + details in the way of sorrow that have come under my experience lately. + Likewise some orange and black,—two keys of each. But I can't + explain on an empty stomach.' + </p> + <p> + 'It sounds mad enough. You'd better stick to your soldiers, Dick, instead + of maundering about heads and eyes and experiences.' + </p> + <p> + 'Think so?' Dick began to dance on his heels, singing— + </p> + <p> + 'They're as proud as a turkey when they hold the ready cash, You ought to + 'ear the way they laugh an' joke; They are tricky an' they're funny when + they've got the ready money,—Ow! but see 'em when they're all + stone-broke.' + </p> + <p> + Then he sat down to pour out his heart to Maisie in a four-sheet letter of + counsel and encouragement, and registered an oath that he would get to + work with an undivided heart as soon as Bessie should reappear. + </p> + <p> + The girl kept her appointment unpainted and unadorned, afraid and overbold + by turns. When she found that she was merely expected to sit still, she + grew calmer, and criticised the appointments of the studio with freedom + and some point. She liked the warmth and the comfort and the release from + fear of physical pain. Dick made two or three studies of her head in + monochrome, but the actual notion of the Melancolia would not arrive. + </p> + <p> + 'What a mess you keep your things in!' said Bessie, some days later, when + she felt herself thoroughly at home. 'I s'pose your clothes are just as + bad. + </p> + <p> + Gentlemen never think what buttons and tape are made for.' + </p> + <p> + 'I buy things to wear, and wear 'em till they go to pieces. I don't know + what Torpenhow does.' + </p> + <p> + Bessie made diligent inquiry in the latter's room, and unearthed a bale of + disreputable socks. 'Some of these I'll mend now,' she said, 'and some + I'll take home. D'you know, I sit all day long at home doing nothing, just + like a lady, and no more noticing them other girls in the house than if + they was so many flies. I don't have any unnecessary words, but I put 'em + down quick, I can tell you, when they talk to me. No; it's quite nice + these days. I lock my door, and they can only call me names through the + keyhole, and I sit inside, just like a lady, mending socks. Mr. Torpenhow + wears his socks out both ends at once.' + </p> + <p> + 'Three quid a week from me, and the delights of my society. No socks + mended. Nothing from Torp except a nod on the landing now and again, and + all his socks mended. Bessie is very much a woman,' thought Dick; and he + looked at her between half-shut eyes. Food and rest had transformed the + girl, as Dick knew they would. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you looking at me like that for?' she said quickly. 'Don't. You + look reg'lar bad when you look that way. You don't think much o' me, do + you?' + </p> + <p> + 'That depends on how you behave.' + </p> + <p> + Bessie behaved beautifully. Only it was difficult at the end of a sitting + to bid her go out into the gray streets. She very much preferred the + studio and a big chair by the stove, with some socks in her lap as an + excuse for delay. Then Torpenhow would come in, and Bessie would be moved + to tell strange and wonderful stories of her past, and still stranger ones + of her present improved circumstances. She would make them tea as though + she had a right to make it; and once or twice on these occasions Dick + caught Torpenhow's eyes fixed on the trim little figure, and because + Bessie'' flittings about the room made Dick ardently long for Maisie, he + realised whither Torpenhow's thoughts were tending. And Bessie was + exceedingly careful of the condition of Torpenhow's linen. She spoke very + little to him, but sometimes they talked together on the landing. + </p> + <p> + 'I was a great fool,' Dick said to himself. 'I know what red firelight + looks like when a man's tramping through a strange town; and ours is a + lonely, selfish sort of life at the best. I wonder Maisie doesn't feel + that sometimes. But I can't order Bessie away. That's the worst of + beginning things. One never knows where they stop.' + </p> + <p> + One evening, after a sitting prolonged to the last limit of the light, + Dick was roused from a nap by a broken voice in Torpenhow's room. He + jumped to his feet. 'Now what ought I to do? It looks foolish to go in.—Oh, + bless you, Binkie!' The little terrier thrust Torpenhow's door open with + his nose and came out to take possession of Dick's chair. The door swung + wide unheeded, and Dick across the landing could see Bessie in the + half-light making her little supplication to Torpenhow. She was kneeling + by his side, and her hands were clasped across his knee. + </p> + <p> + 'I know,—I know,' she said thickly. ''Tisn't right o' me to do this, + but I can't help it; and you were so kind,—so kind; and you never + took any notice o' me. And I've mended all your things so carefully,—I + did. Oh, please, 'tisn't as if I was asking you to marry me. I wouldn't + think of it. + </p> + <p> + But you—couldn't you take and live with me till Miss Right comes + along? I'm only Miss Wrong, I know, but I'd work my hands to the bare bone + for you. And I'm not ugly to look at. Say you will!' + </p> + <p> + Dick hardly recognised Torpenhow's voice in reply—'But look here. + It's no use. I'm liable to be ordered off anywhere at a minute's notice if + a war breaks out. At a minute's notice—dear.' + </p> + <p> + 'What does that matter? Until you go, then. Until you go. 'Tisn't much I'm + asking, and—you don't know how good I can cook.' She had put an arm + round his neck and was drawing his head down. + </p> + <p> + 'Until—I—go, then.' + </p> + <p> + 'Torp,' said Dick, across the landing. He could hardly steady his voice. + </p> + <p> + 'Come here a minute, old man. I'm in trouble'—'Heaven send he'll + listen to me!' There was something very like an oath from Bessie's lips. + She was afraid of Dick, and disappeared down the staircase in panic, but + it seemed an age before Torpenhow entered the studio. He went to the + mantelpiece, buried his head on his arms, and groaned like a wounded bull. + </p> + <p> + 'What the devil right have you to interfere?' he said, at last. + </p> + <p> + 'Who's interfering with which? Your own sense told you long ago you + couldn't be such a fool. It was a tough rack, St. Anthony, but you're all + right now.' + </p> + <p> + 'I oughtn't to have seen her moving about these rooms as if they belonged + to her. That's what upset me. It gives a lonely man a sort of hankering, + doesn't it?' said Torpenhow, piteously. + </p> + <p> + 'Now you talk sense. It does. But, since you aren't in a condition to + discuss the disadvantages of double housekeeping, do you know what you're + going to do?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't. I wish I did.' + </p> + <p> + 'You're going away for a season on a brilliant tour to regain tone. You're + going to Brighton, or Scarborough, or Prawle Point, to see the ships go + by. And you're going at once. Isn't it odd? I'll take care of Binkie, but + out you go immediately. Never resist the devil. He holds the bank. Fly + from him. Pack your things and go.' + </p> + <p> + 'I believe you're right. Where shall I go?' + </p> + <p> + 'And you call yourself a special correspondent! Pack first and inquire + afterwards.' + </p> + <p> + An hour later Torpenhow was despatched into the night for a hansom. + </p> + <p> + 'You'll probably think of some place to go to while you're moving,' said + Dick. 'On to Euston, to begin with, and—oh yes—get drunk + to-night.' + </p> + <p> + He returned to the studio, and lighted more candles, for he found the room + very dark. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, you Jezebel! you futile little Jezebel! Won't you hate me to-morrow!—Binkie, + come here.' + </p> + <p> + Binkie turned over on his back on the hearth-rug, and Dick stirred him + with a meditative foot. + </p> + <p> + 'I said she was not immoral. I was wrong. She said she could cook. That + showed premeditated sin. Oh, Binkie, if you are a man you will go to + perdition; but if you are a woman, and say that you can cook, you will go + to a much worse place.' + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + What's you that follows at my side?— + The foe that ye must fight, my lord.— + That hirples swift as I can ride?— + The shadow of the night, my lord.— + Then wheel my horse against the foe!— + He's down and overpast, my lord. + + Ye war against the sunset glow; + The darkness gathers fast, my lord. + + —The Fight of Heriot's Ford. +</pre> + <p> + 'THIS is a cheerful life,' said Dick, some days later. 'Torp's away; + Bessie hates me; I can't get at the notion of the Melancolia; Maisie's + letters are scrappy; and I believe I have indigestion. What give a man + pains across the head and spots before his eyes, Binkie? Shall us take + some liver pills?' + </p> + <p> + Dick had just gone through a lively scene with Bessie. She had for the + fiftieth time reproached him for sending Torpenhow away. She explained her + enduring hatred for Dick, and made it clear to him that she only sat for + the sake of his money. 'And Mr. Torpenhow's ten times a better man than + you,' she concluded. + </p> + <p> + 'He is. That's why he went away. I should have stayed and made love to + you.' + </p> + <p> + The girl sat with her chin on her hand, scowling. 'To me! I'd like to + catch you! If I wasn't afraid o' being hung I'd kill you. That's what I'd + do. + </p> + <p> + D'you believe me?' + </p> + <p> + Dick smiled wearily. It is not pleasant to live in the company of a notion + that will not work out, a fox-terrier that cannot talk, and a woman who + talks too much. He would have answered, but at that moment there unrolled + itself from one corner of the studio a veil, as it were, of the flimsiest + gauze. He rubbed his eyes, but the gray haze would not go. + </p> + <p> + 'This is disgraceful indigestion. Binkie, we will go to a medicine-man. We + can't have our eyes interfered with, for by these we get our bread; also + mutton-chop bones for little dogs.' + </p> + <p> + The doctor was an affable local practitioner with white hair, and he said + nothing till Dick began to describe the gray film in the studio. + </p> + <p> + 'We all want a little patching and repairing from time to time,' he + chirped. 'Like a ship, my dear sir,—exactly like a ship. Sometimes + the hull is out of order, and we consult the surgeon; sometimes the + rigging, and then I advise; sometimes the engines, and we go to the + brain-specialist; sometimes the look-out on the bridge is tired, and then + we see an oculist. I should recommend you to see an oculist. A little + patching and repairing from time to time is all we want. An oculist, by + all means.' + </p> + <p> + Dick sought an oculist,—the best in London. He was certain that the + local practitioner did not know anything about his trade, and more certain + that Maisie would laugh at him if he were forced to wear spectacles. + </p> + <p> + 'I've neglected the warnings of my lord the stomach too long. Hence these + spots before the eyes, Binkie. I can see as well as I ever could.' + </p> + <p> + As he entered the dark hall that led to the consulting-room a man cannoned + against him. Dick saw the face as it hurried out into the street. + </p> + <p> + 'That's the writer-type. He has the same modelling of the forehead as + Torp. He looks very sick. Probably heard something he didn't like.' + </p> + <p> + Even as he thought, a great fear came upon Dick, a fear that made him hold + his breath as he walked into the oculist's waiting room, with the heavy + carved furniture, the dark-green paper, and the sober-hued prints on the + wall. He recognised a reproduction of one of his own sketches. + </p> + <p> + Many people were waiting their turn before him. His eye was caught by a + flaming red-and-gold Christmas-carol book. Little children came to that + eye-doctor, and they needed large-type amusement. + </p> + <p> + 'That's idolatrous bad Art,' he said, drawing the book towards himself. + </p> + <p> + 'From the anatomy of the angels, it has been made in Germany.' He opened + in mechanically, and there leaped to his eyes a verse printed in red ink— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The next good joy that Mary had, + It was the joy of three, + To see her good Son Jesus Christ + Making the blind to see; + Making the blind to see, good Lord, + And happy we may be. + + Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost + To all eternity! +</pre> + <p> + Dick read and re-read the verse till his turn came, and the doctor was + bending above him seated in an arm-chair. The blaze of the gas-microscope + in his eyes made him wince. The doctor's hand touched the scar of the + sword-cut on Dick's head, and Dick explained briefly how he had come by + it. When the flame was removed, Dick saw the doctor's face, and the fear + came upon him again. The doctor wrapped himself in a mist of words. Dick + caught allusions to 'scar,' 'frontal bone,' 'optic nerve,' 'extreme + caution,' and the 'avoidance of mental anxiety.' + </p> + <p> + 'Verdict?' he said faintly. 'My business is painting, and I daren't waste + time. What do you make of it?' + </p> + <p> + Again the whirl of words, but this time they conveyed a meaning. + </p> + <p> + 'Can you give me anything to drink?' + </p> + <p> + Many sentences were pronounced in that darkened room, and the prisoners + often needed cheering. Dick found a glass of liqueur brandy in his hand. + </p> + <p> + 'As far as I can gather,' he said, coughing above the spirit, 'you call it + decay of the optic nerve, or something, and therefore hopeless. What is my + time-limit, avoiding all strain and worry?' + </p> + <p> + 'Perhaps one year.' + </p> + <p> + 'My God! And if I don't take care of myself?' + </p> + <p> + 'I really could not say. One cannot ascertain the exact amount of injury + inflicted by the sword-cut. The scar is an old one, and—exposure to + the strong light of the desert, did you say?—with excessive + application to fine work? I really could not say?' + </p> + <p> + 'I beg your pardon, but it has come without any warning. If you will let + me, I'll sit here for a minute, and then I'll go. You have been very good + in telling me the truth. Without any warning; without any warning. + </p> + <p> + Thanks.' + </p> + <p> + Dick went into the street, and was rapturously received by Binkie. + </p> + <p> + 'We've got it very badly, little dog! Just as badly as we can get it. + We'll go to the Park to think it out.' + </p> + <p> + They headed for a certain tree that Dick knew well, and they sat down to + thin, because his legs were trembling under him and there was cold fear at + the pit of his stomach. + </p> + <p> + 'How could it have come without any warning? It's as sudden as being shot. + It's the living death, Binkie. We're to be shut up in the dark in one year + if we're careful, and we shan't see anybody, and we shall never have + anything we want, not though we live to be a hundred!' Binkie wagged his + tail joyously. 'Binkie, we must think. Let's see how it feels to be + blind.' Dick shut his eyes, and flaming commas and Catherine-wheels + floated inside the lids. Yet when he looked across the Park the scope of + his vision was not contracted. He could see perfectly, until a procession + of slow-wheeling fireworks defiled across his eyeballs. + </p> + <p> + 'Little dorglums, we aren't at all well. Let's go home. If only Torp were + back, now!' + </p> + <p> + But Torpenhow was in the south of England, inspecting dockyards in the + company of the Nilghai. His letters were brief and full of mystery. + </p> + <p> + Dick had never asked anybody to help him in his joys or his sorrows. He + argued, in the loneliness of his studio, henceforward to be decorated with + a film of gray gauze in one corner, that, if his fate were blindness, all + the Torpenhows in the world could not save him. 'I can't call him off his + trip to sit down and sympathise with me. I must pull through this business + alone,' he said. He was lying on the sofa, eating his moustache and + wondering what the darkness of the night would be like. Then came to his + mind the memory of a quaint scene in the Soudan. A soldier had been nearly + hacked in two by a broad-bladed Arab spear. For one instant the man felt + no pain. Looking down, he saw that his life-blood was going from him. The + stupid bewilderment on his face was so intensely comic that both Dick and + Torpenhow, still panting and unstrung from a fight for life, had roared + with laughter, in which the man seemed as if he would join, but, as his + lips parted in a sheepish grin, the agony of death came upon him, and he + pitched grunting at their feet. Dick laughed again, remembering the + horror. It seemed so exactly like his own case. + </p> + <p> + 'But I have a little more time allowed me,' he said. He paced up and down + the room, quietly at first, but afterwards with the hurried feet of fear. + It was as though a black shadow stood at his elbow and urged him to go + forward; and there were only weaving circles and floating pin-dots before + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + 'We need to be calm, Binkie; we must be calm.' He talked aloud for the + sake of distraction. 'This isn't nice at all. What shall we do? We must do + something. Our time is short. I shouldn't have believed that this morning; + but now things are different. Binkie, where was Moses when the light went + out?' + </p> + <p> + Binkie smiled from ear to ear, as a well-bred terrier should, but made no + suggestion. + </p> + <p> + '"Were there but world enough and time, This coyness, Binkie, were not + crime.... But at my back I always hear——"' He wiped his + forehead, which was unpleasantly damp. 'What can I do? What can I do? I + haven't any notions left, and I can't think connectedly, but I must do + something, or I shall go off my head.' + </p> + <p> + The hurried walk recommenced, Dick stopping every now and again to drag + forth long-neglected canvases and old note-books; for he turned to his + work by instinct, as a thing that could not fail. 'You won't do, and you + won't do,' he said, at each inspection. 'No more soldiers. I couldn't + paint 'em. Sudden death comes home too nearly, and this is battle and + murder for me.' + </p> + <p> + The day was failing, and Dick thought for a moment that the twilight of + the blind had come upon him unaware. 'Allah Almighty!' he cried + despairingly, 'help me through the time of waiting, and I won't whine when + my punishment comes. What can I do now, before the light goes?' + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. Dick waited till he could regain some sort of control + over himself. His hands were shaking, and he prided himself on their + steadiness; he could feel that his lips were quivering, and the sweat was + running down his face. He was lashed by fear, driven forward by the desire + to get to work at once and accomplish something, and maddened by the + refusal of his brain to do more than repeat the news that he was about to + go blind. 'It's a humiliating exhibition,' he thought, 'and I'm glad Torp + isn't here to see. The doctor said I was to avoid mental worry. + </p> + <p> + Come here and let me pet you, Binkie.' + </p> + <p> + The little dog yelped because Dick nearly squeezed the bark out of him. + </p> + <p> + Then he heard the man speaking in the twilight, and, doglike, understood + that his trouble stood off from him—'Allah is good, Binkie. Not + quite so gentle as we could wish, but we'll discuss that later. I think I + see my way to it now. All those studies of Bessie's head were nonsense, + and they nearly brought your master into a scrape. I hold the notion now + as clear as crystal,—"the Melancolia that transcends all wit." There + shall be Maisie in that head, because I shall never get Maisie; and Bess, + of course, because she knows all about Melancolia, though she doesn't know + she knows; and there shall be some drawing in it, and it shall all end up + with a laugh. That's for myself. Shall she giggle or grin? No, she shall + laugh right out of the canvas, and every man and woman that ever had a + sorrow of their own shall—what is it the poem says?— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Understand the speech and feel a stir + Of fellowship in all disastrous fight. +</pre> + <p> + "In all disastrous fight"? That's better than painting the thing merely to + pique Maisie. I can do it now because I have it inside me. Binkie, I'm + going to hold you up by your tail. You're an omen. Come here.' + </p> + <p> + Binkie swung head downward for a moment without speaking. + </p> + <p> + 'Rather like holding a guinea-pig; but you're a brave little dog, and you + don't yelp when you're hung up. It is an omen.' + </p> + <p> + Binkie went to his own chair, and as often as he looked saw Dick walking + up and down, rubbing his hands and chuckling. That night Dick wrote a + letter to Maisie full of the tenderest regard for her health, but saying + very little about his own, and dreamed of the Melancolia to be born. Not + till morning did he remember that something might happen to him in the + future. + </p> + <p> + He fell to work, whistling softly, and was swallowed up in the clean, + clear joy of creation, which does not come to man too often, lest he + should consider himself the equal of his God, and so refuse to die at the + appointed time. He forgot Maisie, Torpenhow, and Binkie at his feet, but + remembered to stir Bessie, who needed very little stirring, into a + tremendous rage, that he might watch the smouldering lights in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + He threw himself without reservation into his work, and did not think of + the doom that was to overtake him, for he was possessed with his notion, + and the things of this world had no power upon him. + </p> + <p> + 'You're pleased to-day,' said Bessie. + </p> + <p> + Dick waved his mahl-stick in mystic circles and went to the sideboard for + a drink. In the evening, when the exaltation of the day had died down, he + went to the sideboard again, and after some visits became convinced that + the eye-doctor was a liar, since he could still see everything very + clearly. + </p> + <p> + He was of opinion that he would even make a home for Maisie, and that + whether she liked it or not she should be his wife. The mood passed next + morning, but the sideboard and all upon it remained for his comfort. + </p> + <p> + Again he set to work, and his eyes troubled him with spots and dashes and + blurs till he had taken counsel with the sideboard, and the Melancolia + both on the canvas and in his own mind appeared lovelier than ever. There + was a delightful sense of irresponsibility upon him, such as they feel who + walking among their fellow-men know that the death-sentence of disease is + upon them, and, seeing that fear is but waste of the little time left, are + riotously happy. The days passed without event. + </p> + <p> + Bessie arrived punctually always, and, though her voice seemed to Dick to + come from a distance, her face was always very near. The Melancolia began + to flame on the canvas, in the likeness of a woman who had known all the + sorrow in the world and was laughing at it. It was true that the corners + of the studio draped themselves in gray film and retired into the + darkness, that the spots in his eyes and the pains across his head were + very troublesome, and that Maisie's letters were hard to read and harder + still to answer. He could not tell her of his trouble, and he could not + laugh at her accounts of her own Melancolia which was always going to be + finished. But the furious days of toil and the nights of wild dreams made + amends for all, and the sideboard was his best friend on earth. + </p> + <p> + Bessie was singularly dull. She used to shriek with rage when Dick stared + at her between half-closed eyes. Now she sulked, or watched him with + disgust, saying very little. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow had been absent for six weeks. An incoherent note heralded his + return. 'News! great news!' he wrote. 'The Nilghai knows, and so does the + Keneu. We're all back on Thursday. Get lunch and clean your + accoutrements.' + </p> + <p> + Dick showed Bessie the letter, and she abused him for that he had ever + sent Torpenhow away and ruined her life. + </p> + <p> + 'Well,' said Dick, brutally, 'you're better as you are, instead of making + love to some drunken beast in the street.' He felt that he had rescued + Torpenhow from great temptation. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know if that's any worse than sitting to a drunken beast in a + studio. You haven't been sober for three weeks. You've been soaking the + whole time; and yet you pretend you're better than me!' + </p> + <p> + 'What d'you mean?' said Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'Mean! You'll see when Mr. Torpenhow comes back.' + </p> + <p> + It was not long to wait. Torpenhow met Bessie on the staircase without a + sign of feeling. He had news that was more to him than many Bessies, and + the Keneu and the Nilghai were trampling behind him, calling for Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'Drinking like a fish,' Bessie whispered. 'He's been at it for nearly a + month.' She followed the men stealthily to hear judgment done. + </p> + <p> + They came into the studio, rejoicing, to be welcomed over effusively by a + drawn, lined, shrunken, haggard wreck,—unshaven, blue-white about + the nostrils, stooping in the shoulders, and peering under his eyebrows + nervously. The drink had been at work as steadily as Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'Is this you?' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'All that's left of me. Sit down. Binkie's quite well, and I've been doing + some good work.' He reeled where he stood. + </p> + <p> + 'You've done some of the worst work you've ever done in your life. Man + alive, you're——' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow turned to his companions appealingly, and they left the room to + find lunch elsewhere. Then he spoke; but, since the reproof of a friend is + much too sacred and intimate a thing to be printed, and since Torpenhow + used figures and metaphors which were unseemly, and contempt + untranslatable, it will never be known what was actually said to Dick, who + blinked and winked and picked at his hands. After a time the culprit began + to feel the need of a little self-respect. He was quite sure that he had + not in any way departed from virtue, and there were reasons, too, of which + Torpenhow knew nothing. He would explain. + </p> + <p> + He rose, tried to straighten his shoulders, and spoke to the face he could + hardly see. + </p> + <p> + 'You are right,' he said. 'But I am right, too. After you went away I had + some trouble with my eyes. So I went to an oculist, and he turned a + gasogene—I mean a gas-engine—into my eye. That was very long + ago. He said, "Scar on the head,—sword-cut and optic nerve." Make a + note of that. So I am going blind. I have some work to do before I go + blind, and I suppose that I must do it. I cannot see much now, but I can + see best when I am drunk. I did not know I was drunk till I was told, but + I must go on with my work. If you want to see it, there it is.' He pointed + to the all but finished Melancolia and looked for applause. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow said nothing, and Dick began to whimper feebly, for joy at + seeing Torpenhow again, for grief at misdeeds—if indeed they were + misdeeds—that made Torpenhow remote and unsympathetic, and for + childish vanity hurt, since Torpenhow had not given a word of praise to + his wonderful picture. + </p> + <p> + Bessie looked through the keyhole after a long pause, and saw the two + walking up and down as usual, Torpenhow's hand on Dick's shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Hereat she said something so improper that it shocked even Binkie, who was + dribbling patiently on the landing with the hope of seeing his master + again. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The lark will make her hymn to God, + The partridge call her brood, + While I forget the heath I trod, + The fields wherein I stood. + + 'Tis dule to know not night from morn, + But deeper dule to know + I can but hear the hunter's horn + That once I used to blow. + + —The Only Son. +</pre> + <p> + IT WAS the third day after Torpenhow's return, and his heart was heavy. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you mean to tell me that you can't see to work without whiskey? It's + generally the other way about.' + </p> + <p> + 'Can a drunkard swear on his honour?' said Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, if he has been as god a man as you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then I give you my word of honour,' said Dick, speaking hurriedly through + parched lips. 'Old man, I can hardly see your face now. You've kept me + sober for two days,—if I ever was drunk,—and I've done no + work. + </p> + <p> + Don't keep me back any more. I don't know when my eyes may give out. + </p> + <p> + The spots and dots and the pains and things are crowding worse than ever. + I swear I can see all right when I'm—when I'm moderately screwed, as + you say. Give me three more sittings from Bessie and all—the stuff I + want, and the picture will be done. I can't kill myself in three days. It + only means a touch of D. T. at the worst.' + </p> + <p> + 'If I give you three days more will you promise me to stop work and—the + other thing, whether the picture's finished or not?' + </p> + <p> + 'I can't. You don't know what that picture means to me. But surely you + could get the Nilghai to help you, and knock me down and tie me up. I + shouldn't fight for the whiskey, but I should for the work.' + </p> + <p> + 'Go on, then. I give you three days; but you're nearly breaking my heart.' + </p> + <p> + Dick returned to his work, toiling as one possessed; and the yellow devil + of whiskey stood by him and chased away the spots in his eyes. The + Melancolia was nearly finished, and was all or nearly all that he had + hoped she would be. Dick jested with Bessie, who reminded him that he was + 'a drunken beast'; but the reproof did not move him. + </p> + <p> + 'You can't understand, Bess. We are in sight of land now, and soon we + shall lie back and think about what we've done. I'll give you three + months' pay when the picture's finished, and next time I have any more + work in hand—but that doesn't matter. Won't three months' pay make + you hate me less?' + </p> + <p> + 'No, it won't! I hate you, and I'll go on hating you. Mr. Torpenhow won't + speak to me any more. He's always looking at maps.' + </p> + <p> + Bessie did not say that she had again laid siege to Torpenhow, or that at + the end of our passionate pleading he had picked her up, given her a kiss, + and put her outside the door with the recommendation not to be a little + fool. He spent most of his time in the company of the Nilghai, and their + talk was of war in the near future, the hiring of transports, and secret + preparations among the dockyards. He did not wish to see Dick till the + picture was finished. + </p> + <p> + 'He's doing first-class work,' he said to the Nilghai, 'and it's quite out + of his regular line. But, for the matter of that, so's his infernal + soaking.' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind. Leave him alone. When he has come to his senses again we'll + carry him off from this place and let him breathe clean air. Poor Dick! I + don't envy you, Torp, when his eyes fail.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, it will be a case of "God help the man who's chained to our Davie." + The worst is that we don't know when it will happen, and I believe the + uncertainty and the waiting have sent Dick to the whiskey more than + anything else.' + </p> + <p> + 'How the Arab who cut his head open would grin if he knew!' + </p> + <p> + 'He's at perfect liberty to grin if he can. He's dead. That's poor + consolation now.' + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon of the third day Torpenhow heard Dick calling for him. + </p> + <p> + 'All finished!' he shouted. 'I've done it! Come in! Isn't she a beauty? + Isn't she a darling? I've been down to hell to get her; but isn't she + worth it?' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow looked at the head of a woman who laughed,—a full-lipped, + hollow-eyed woman who laughed from out of the canvas as Dick had intended + she would. + </p> + <p> + 'Who taught you how to do it?' said Torpenhow. 'The touch and notion have + nothing to do with your regular work. What a face it is! What eyes, and + what insolence!' Unconsciously he threw back his head and laughed with + her. 'She's seen the game played out,—I don't think she had a good + time of it,—and now she doesn't care. Isn't that the idea?' + </p> + <p> + 'Exactly.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where did you get the mouth and chin from? They don't belong to Bess.' + </p> + <p> + 'They're—some one else's. But isn't it good? Isn't it thundering + good? Wasn't it worth the whiskey? I did it. Alone I did it, and it's the + best I can do.' He drew his breath sharply, and whispered, 'Just God! what + could I not do ten years hence, if I can do this now!—By the way, + what do you think of it, Bess?' + </p> + <p> + The girl was biting her lips. She loathed Torpenhow because he had taken + no notice of her. + </p> + <p> + 'I think it's just the horridest, beastliest thing I ever saw,' she + answered, and turned away. + </p> + <p> + 'More than you will be of that way of thinking, young woman.—Dick, + there's a sort of murderous, viperine suggestion in the poise of the head + that I don't understand,' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + That's trick-work,' said Dick, chuckling with delight at being completely + understood. 'I couldn't resist one little bit of sheer swagger. It's a + French trick, and you wouldn't understand; but it's got at by slewing + round the head a trifle, and a tiny, tiny foreshortening of one side of + the face from the angle of the chin to the top of the left ear. That, and + deepening the shadow under the lobe of the ear. It was flagrant + trick-work; but, having the notion fixed, I felt entitled to play with it,—Oh, + you beauty!' + </p> + <p> + 'Amen! She is a beauty. I can feel it.' + </p> + <p> + 'So will every man who has any sorrow of his own,' said Dick, slapping his + thigh. 'He shall see his trouble there, and, by the Lord Harry, just when + he's feeling properly sorry for himself he shall throw back his head and + laugh,—as she is laughing. I've put the life of my heart and the + light of my eyes into her, and I don't care what comes.... I'm tired,—awfully + tired. I think I'll get to sleep. Take away the whiskey, it has served its + turn, and give Bessie thirty-six quid, and three over for luck. Cover the + picture.' + </p> + <p> + He dropped asleep in the long chair, hid face white and haggard, almost + before he had finished the sentence. Bessie tried to take Torpenhow's + hand. 'Aren't you never going to speak to me any more?' she said; but + Torpenhow was looking at Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'What a stock of vanity the man has! I'll take him in hand to-morrow and + make much of him. He deserves it.—Eh! what was that, Bess?' + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing. I'll put things tidy here a little, and then I'll go. You + couldn't give the that three months' pay now, could you? He said you were + to.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow gave her a check and went to his own rooms. Bessie faithfully + tidied up the studio, set the door ajar for flight, emptied half a bottle + of turpentine on a duster, and began to scrub the face of the Melancolia + viciously. The paint did not smudge quickly enough. She took a + palette-knife and scraped, following each stroke with the wet duster. In + five minutes the picture was a formless, scarred muddle of colours. She + threw the paint-stained duster into the studio stove, stuck out her tongue + at the sleeper, and whispered, 'Bilked!' as she turned to run down the + staircase. She would never see Torpenhow any more, but she had at least + done harm to the man who had come between her and her desire and who used + to make fun of her. Cashing the check was the very cream of the jest to + Bessie. Then the little privateer sailed across the Thames, to be + swallowed up in the gray wilderness of South-the-Water. + </p> + <p> + Dick slept till late in the evening, when Torpenhow dragged him off to + bed. His eyes were as bright as his voice was hoarse. 'Let's have another + look at the picture,' he said, insistently as a child. + </p> + <p> + 'You—go—to—bed,' said Torpenhow. 'You aren't at all + well, though you mayn't know it. You're as jumpy as a cat.' + </p> + <p> + 'I reform to-morrow. Good-night.' + </p> + <p> + As he repassed through the studio, Torpenhow lifted the cloth above the + picture, and almost betrayed himself by outcries: 'Wiped out!—scraped + out and turped out! He's on the verge of jumps as it is. That's Bess,—the + little fiend! Only a woman could have done that!-with the ink not dry on + the check, too! Dick will be raving mad to-morrow. It was all my fault for + trying to help gutter-devils. Oh, my poor Dick, the Lord is hitting you + very hard!' + </p> + <p> + Dick could not sleep that night, partly for pure joy, and partly because + the well-known Catherine-wheels inside his eyes had given place to + crackling volcanoes of many-coloured fire. 'Spout away,' he said aloud. + </p> + <p> + 'I've done my work, and now you can do what you please.' He lay still, + staring at the ceiling, the long-pent-up delirium of drink in his veins, + his brain on fire with racing thoughts that would not stay to be + considered, and his hands crisped and dry. He had just discovered that he + was painting the face of the Melancolia on a revolving dome ribbed with + millions of lights, and that all his wondrous thoughts stood embodied + hundreds of feet below his tiny swinging plank, shouting together in his + honour, when something cracked inside his temples like an overstrained + bowstring, the glittering dome broke inward, and he was alone in the thick + night. + </p> + <p> + 'I'll go to sleep. The room's very dark. Let's light a lamp and see how + the Melancolia looks. There ought to have been a moon.' + </p> + <p> + It was then that Torpenhow heard his name called by a voice that he did + not know,—in the rattling accents of deadly fear. + </p> + <p> + 'He's looked at the picture,' was his first thought, as he hurried into + the bedroom and found Dick sitting up and beating the air with his hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Torp! Torp! where are you? For pity's sake, come to me!' + </p> + <p> + 'What's the matter?' + </p> + <p> + Dick clutched at his shoulder. 'Matter! I've been lying here for hours in + the dark, and you never heard me. Torp, old man, don't go away. I'm all in + the dark. In the dark, I tell you!' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow held the candle within a foot of Dick's eyes, but there was no + light in those eyes. He lit the gas, and Dick heard the flame catch. The + grip of his fingers on Torpenhow's shoulder made Torpenhow wince. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't leave me. You wouldn't leave me alone now, would you? I can't see. + D'you understand? It's black,—quite black,—and I feel as if I + was falling through it all.' + </p> + <p> + 'Steady does it.' Torpenhow put his arm round Dick and began to rock him + gently to and fro. + </p> + <p> + 'That's good. Now don't talk. If I keep very quiet for a while, this + darkness will lift. It seems just on the point of breaking. H'sh!' Dick + knit his brows and stared desperately in front of him. The night air was + chilling Torpenhow's toes. + </p> + <p> + 'Can you stay like that a minute?' he said. 'I'll get my dressing-gown and + some slippers.' + </p> + <p> + Dick clutched the bed-head with both hands and waited for the darkness to + clear away. 'What a time you've been!' he cried, when Torpenhow returned. + 'It's as black as ever. What are you banging about in the door-way?' + </p> + <p> + 'Long chair,—horse-blanket,—pillow. Going to sleep by you. Lie + down now; you'll be better in the morning.' + </p> + <p> + 'I shan't!' The voice rose to a wail. 'My God! I'm blind! I'm blind, and + the darkness will never go away.' He made as if to leap from the bed, but + Torpenhow's arms were round him, and Torpenhow's chin was on his shoulder, + and his breath was squeezed out of him. He could only gasp, 'Blind!' and + wriggle feebly. + </p> + <p> + 'Steady, Dickie, steady!' said the deep voice in his ear, and the grip + tightened. 'Bite on the bullet, old man, and don't let them think you're + afraid,' The grip could draw no closer. Both men were breathing heavily. + </p> + <p> + Dick threw his head from side to side and groaned. + </p> + <p> + 'Let me go,' he panted. 'You're cracking my ribs. We-we mustn't let them + think we're afraid, must we,—all the powers of darkness and that + lot?' + </p> + <p> + 'Lie down. It's all over now.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes,' said Dick, obediently. 'But would you mind letting me hold your + hand? I feel as if I wanted something to hold on to. One drops through the + dark so.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow thrust out a large and hairy paw from the long chair. Dick + clutched it tightly, and in half an hour had fallen asleep. Torpenhow + withdrew his hand, and, stooping over Dick, kissed him lightly on the + forehead, as men do sometimes kiss a wounded comrade in the hour of death, + to ease his departure. + </p> + <p> + In the gray dawn Torpenhow heard Dick talking to himself. He was adrift on + the shoreless tides of delirium, speaking very quickly—'It's a pity,—a + great pity; but it's helped, and it must be eaten, Master George. + Sufficient unto the day is the blindness thereof, and, further, putting + aside all Melancolias and false humours, it is of obvious notoriety—such + as mine was—that the queen can do no wrong. Torp doesn't know that. + I'll tell him when we're a little farther into the desert. + </p> + <p> + What a bungle those boatmen are making of the steamer-ropes! They'll have + that four-inch hawser chafed through in a minute. I told you so—there + she goes! White foam on green water, and the steamer slewing round. How + good that looks! I'll sketch it. No, I can't. I'm afflicted with + ophthalmia. That was one of the ten plagues of Egypt, and it extends up + the Nile in the shape of cataract. Ha! that's a joke, Torp. Laugh, you + graven image, and stand clear of the hawser.... It'll knock you into the + water and make your dress all dirty, Maisie dear.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh!' said Torpenhow. 'This happened before. That night on the river.' + </p> + <p> + 'She'll be sure to say it's my fault if you get muddy, and you're quite + near enough to the breakwater. Maisie, that's not fair. Ah! I knew you'd + miss. + </p> + <p> + Low and to the left, dear. But you've no conviction. Don't be angry, + darling. I'd cut my hand off if it would give you anything more than + obstinacy. My right hand, if it would serve.' + </p> + <p> + 'Now we mustn't listen. Here's an island shouting across seas of + misunderstanding with a vengeance. But it's shouting truth, I fancy,' said + Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + The babble continued. It all bore upon Maisie. Sometimes Dick lectured at + length on his craft, then he cursed himself for his folly in being + enslaved. He pleaded to Maisie for a kiss—only one kiss—before + she went away, and called to her to come back from Vitry-sur-Marne, if she + would; but through all his ravings he bade heaven and earth witness that + the queen could do no wrong. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow listened attentively, and learned every detail of Dick's life + that had been hidden from him. For three days Dick raved through the past, + and then a natural sleep. 'What a strain he has been running under, poor + chap!' said Torpenhow. 'Dick, of all men, handing himself over like a dog! + And I was lecturing him on arrogance! I ought to have known that it was no + use to judge a man. But I did it. What a demon that girl must be! Dick's + given her his life,—confound him!—and she's given him one kiss + apparently.' + </p> + <p> + 'Torp,' said Dick, from the bed, 'go out for a walk. You've been here too + long. I'll get up. Hi! This is annoying. I can't dress myself. Oh, it's + too absurd!' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow helped him into his clothes and led him to the big chair in the + studio. He sat quietly waiting under strained nerves for the darkness to + lift. It did not lift that day, nor the next. Dick adventured on a voyage + round the walls. He hit his shins against the stove, and this suggested to + him that it would be better to crawl on all fours, one hand in front of + him. Torpenhow found him on the floor. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm trying to get the geography of my new possessions,' said he. 'D'you + remember that nigger you gouged in the square? Pity you didn't keep the + odd eye. It would have been useful. Any letters for me? Give me all the + ones in fat gray envelopes with a sort of crown thing outside. They're of + no importance.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow gave him a letter with a black M. on the envelope flap. Dick put + it into his pocket. There was nothing in it that Torpenhow might not have + read, but it belonged to himself and to Maisie, who would never belong to + him. + </p> + <p> + 'When she finds that I don't write, she'll stop writing. It's better so. I + couldn't be any use to her now,' Dick argued, and the tempter suggested + that he should make known his condition. Every nerve in him revolted. 'I + have fallen low enough already. I'm not going to beg for pity. Besides, it + would be cruel to her.' He strove to put Maisie out of his thoughts; but + the blind have many opportunities for thinking, and as the tides of his + strength came back to him in the long employless days of dead darkness, + Dick's soul was troubled to the core. Another letter, and another, came + from Maisie. Then there was silence, and Dick sat by the window, the pulse + of summer in the air, and pictured her being won by another man, stronger + than himself. His imagination, the keener for the dark background it + worked against, spared him no single detail that might send him raging up + and down the studio, to stumble over the stove that seemed to be in four + places at once. Worst of all, tobacco would not taste in the darkness. The + arrogance of the man had disappeared, and in its place were settled + despair that Torpenhow knew, and blind passion that Dick confided to his + pillow at night. The intervals between the paroxysms were filled with + intolerable waiting and the weight of intolerable darkness. + </p> + <p> + 'Come out into the Park,' said Torpenhow. 'You haven't stirred out since + the beginning of things.' + </p> + <p> + 'What's the use? There's no movement in the dark; and, besides,'—he + paused irresolutely at the head of the stairs,—'something will run + over me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not if I'm with you. Proceed gingerly.' + </p> + <p> + The roar of the streets filled Dick with nervous terror, and he clung to + Torpenhow's arm. 'Fancy having to feel for a gutter with your foot!' he + said petulantly, as he turned into the Park. 'Let's curse God and die.' + </p> + <p> + 'Sentries are forbidden to pay unauthorised compliments. By Jove, there + are the Guards!' + </p> + <p> + Dick's figure straightened. 'Let's get near 'em. Let's go in and look. + Let's get on the grass and run. I can smell the trees.' + </p> + <p> + 'Mind the low railing. That's all right!' Torpenhow kicked out a tuft of + grass with his heel. 'Smell that,' he said. 'Isn't it good?' Dick sniffed + luxuriously. 'Now pick up your feet and run.' They approached as near to + the regiment as was possible. The clank of bayonets being unfixed made + Dick's nostrils quiver. + </p> + <p> + 'Let's get nearer. They're in column, aren't they?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. How did you know?' + </p> + <p> + 'Felt it. Oh, my men!—my beautiful men!' He edged forward as though + he could see. 'I could draw those chaps once. Who'll draw 'em now?' + </p> + <p> + 'They'll move off in a minute. Don't jump when the band begins.' + </p> + <p> + 'Huh! I'm not a new charger. It's the silences that hurt. Nearer, Torp!—nearer! + Oh, my God, what wouldn't I give to see 'em for a minute!—one + half-minute!' + </p> + <p> + He could hear the armed life almost within reach of him, could hear the + slings tighten across the bandsman's chest as he heaved the big drum from + the ground. + </p> + <p> + 'Sticks crossed above his head,' whispered Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'I know. I know! Who should know if I don't? H'sh!' + </p> + <p> + The drum-sticks fell with a boom, and the men swung forward to the crash + of the band. Dick felt the wind of the massed movement in his face, heard + the maddening tramp of feet and the friction of the pouches on the belts. + The big drum pounded out the tune. It was a music-hall refrain that made a + perfect quickstep— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + He must be a man of decent height, + He must be a man of weight, + He must come home on a Saturday night + In a thoroughly sober state; + He must know how to love me, + And he must know how to kiss; + And if he's enough to keep us both + I can't refuse him bliss. +</pre> + <p> + 'What's the matter?' said Torpenhow, as he saw Dick's head fall when the + last of the regiment had departed. + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing. I feel a little bit out of the running,—that's all. Torp, + take me back. Why did you bring me out?' + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + There were three friends that buried the fourth, + The mould in his mouth and the dust in his eyes + And they went south and east, and north,— + The strong man fights, but the sick man dies. + + There were three friends that spoke of the dead,— + The strong man fights, but the sick man dies.— + 'And would he were with us now,' they said, + 'The sun in our face and the wind in our eyes.' + + —Ballad. +</pre> + <p> + THE NILGHAI was angry with Torpenhow. Dick had been sent to bed,—blind + men are ever under the orders of those who can see,—and since he had + returned from the Park had fluently sworn at Torpenhow because he was + alive, and all the world because it was alive and could see, while he, + Dick, was dead in the death of the blind, who, at the best, are only + burdens upon their associates. Torpenhow had said something about a Mrs. + Gummidge, and Dick had retired in a black fury to handle and re-handle + three unopened letters from Maisie. + </p> + <p> + The Nilghai, fat, burly, and aggressive, was in Torpenhow's rooms. + </p> + <p> + Behind him sat the Keneu, the Great War Eagle, and between them lay a + large map embellished with black-and-white-headed pins. + </p> + <p> + 'I was wrong about the Balkans,' said the Nilghai. 'But I'm not wrong + about this business. The whole of our work in the Southern Soudan must be + done over again. The public doesn't care, of course, but the government + does, and they are making their arrangements quietly. You know that as + well as I do.' + </p> + <p> + 'I remember how the people cursed us when our troops withdrew from + Omdurman. It was bound to crop up sooner or later. But I can't go,' said + Torpenhow. He pointed through the open door; it was a hot night. 'Can you + blame me?' + </p> + <p> + The Keneu purred above his pipe like a large and very happy cat—'Don't + blame you in the least. It's uncommonly good of you, and all the rest of + it, but every man—even you, Torp—must consider his work. I + know it sounds brutal, but Dick's out of the race,—down,—gastados + expended, finished, done for. He has a little money of his own. He won't + starve, and you can't pull out of your slide for his sake. Think of your + own reputation.' + </p> + <p> + 'Dick's was five times bigger than mine and yours put together.' + </p> + <p> + 'That was because he signed his name to everything he did. It's all ended + now. You must hold yourself in readiness to move out. You can command your + own prices, and you do better work than any three of us.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't tell me how tempting it is. I'll stay here to look after Dick for a + while. He's as cheerful as a bear with a sore head, but I think he likes + to have me near him.' + </p> + <p> + The Nilghai said something uncomplimentary about soft-headed fools who + throw away their careers for other fools. Torpenhow flushed angrily. The + constant strain of attendance on Dick had worn his nerves thin. + </p> + <p> + 'There remains a third fate,' said the Keneu, thoughtfully. 'Consider + this, and be not larger fools than necessary. Dick is—or rather was—an + able-bodied man of moderate attractions and a certain amount of audacity.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oho!' said the Nilghai, who remembered an affair at Cairo. 'I begin to + see,—Torp, I'm sorry.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow nodded forgiveness: 'You were more sorry when he cut you out, + though.—Go on, Keneu.' + </p> + <p> + 'I've often thought, when I've seen men die out in the desert, that if the + news could be sent through the world, and the means of transport were + quick enough, there would be one woman at least at each man's bedside.' + </p> + <p> + 'There would be some mighty quaint revelations. Let us be grateful things + are as they are,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'Let us rather reverently consider whether Torp's three-cornered + ministrations are exactly what Dick needs just now.—What do you + think yourself, Torp?' + </p> + <p> + 'I know they aren't. But what can I do?' + </p> + <p> + 'Lay the matter before the board. We are all Dick's friends here. You've + been most in his life.' + </p> + <p> + 'But I picked it up when he was off his head.' + </p> + <p> + 'The greater chance of its being true. I thought we should arrive. Who is + she?' + </p> + <p> + Then Torpenhow told a tale in plain words, as a special correspondent who + knows how to make a verbal precis should tell it. The men listened without + interruption. + </p> + <p> + 'Is it possible that a man can come back across the years to his + calf-love?' said the Keneu. 'Is it possible?' + </p> + <p> + 'I give the facts. He says nothing about it now, but he sits fumbling + three letters from her when he thinks I'm not looking. What am I to do?' + </p> + <p> + 'Speak to him,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh yes! Write to her,—I don't know her full name, remember,—and + ask her to accept him out of pity. I believe you once told Dick you were + sorry for him, Nilghai. You remember what happened, eh? Go into the + bedroom and suggest full confession and an appeal to this Maisie girl, + whoever she is. I honestly believe he'd try to kill you; and the blindness + has made him rather muscular.' + </p> + <p> + 'Torpenhow's course is perfectly clear,' said the Keneu. 'He will go to + Vitry-sur-Marne, which is on the Bezieres-Landes Railway,—single + track from Tourgas. The Prussians shelled it out in '70 because there was + a poplar on the top of a hill eighteen hundred yards from the church spire + There's a squadron of cavalry quartered there,—or ought to be. Where + this studio Torp spoke about may be I cannot tell. That is Torp's + business. I have given him his route. He will dispassionately explain the + situation to the girl, and she will come back to Dick,—the more + especially because, to use Dick's words, "there is nothing but her damned + obstinacy to keep them apart."' + </p> + <p> + 'And they have four hundred and twenty pounds a year between 'em. + </p> + <p> + Dick never lost his head for figures, even in his delirium. You haven't + the shadow of an excuse for not going,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow looked very uncomfortable. 'But it's absurd and impossible. I + can't drag her back by the hair.' + </p> + <p> + 'Our business—the business for which we draw our money—is to + do absurd and impossible things,—generally with no reason whatever + except to amuse the public. Here we have a reason. The rest doesn't + matter. I shall share these rooms with the Nilghai till Torpenhow returns. + There will be a batch of unbridled "specials" coming to town in a little + while, and these will serve as their headquarters. Another reason for + sending Torpenhow away. Thus Providence helps those who help others, and'—here + the Keneu dropped his measured speech—'we can't have you tied by the + leg to Dick when the trouble begins. It's your only chance of getting + away; and Dick will be grateful.' + </p> + <p> + 'He will,—worse luck! I can but go and try. I can't conceive a woman + in her senses refusing Dick.' + </p> + <p> + 'Talk that out with the girl. I have seen you wheedle an angry Mahdieh + woman into giving you dates. This won't be a tithe as difficult. You had + better not be here to-morrow afternoon, because the Nilghai and I will be + in possession. It is an order. Obey.' + </p> + <p> + 'Dick,' said Torpenhow, next morning, 'can I do anything for you?' + </p> + <p> + 'No! Leave me alone. How often must I remind you that I'm blind?' + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing I could go for to fetch for to carry for to bring?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. Take those infernal creaking boots of yours away.' + </p> + <p> + 'Poor chap!' said Torpenhow to himself. 'I must have been sitting on his + nerves lately. He wants a lighter step.' Then, aloud, 'Very well. Since + you're so independent, I'm going off for four or five days. Say good-bye + at least. The housekeeper will look after you, and Keneu has my rooms.' + </p> + <p> + Dick's face fell. 'You won't be longer than a week at the outside? I know + I'm touched in the temper, but I can't get on without you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Can't you? You'll have to do without me in a little time, and you'll be + glad I'm gone.' + </p> + <p> + Dick felt his way back to the big chair, and wondered what these things + might mean. He did not wish to be tended by the housekeeper, and yet + Torpenhow's constant tenderness jarred on him. He did not exactly know + what he wanted. The darkness would not lift, and Maisie's unopened letters + felt worn and old from much handling. He could never read them for himself + as long as life endured; but Maisie might have sent him some fresh ones to + play with. The Nilghai entered with a gift,—a piece of red + modelling-wax. He fancied that Dick might find interest in using his + hands. Dick poked and patted the stuff for a few minutes, and, 'Is it like + anything in the world?' he said drearily. 'Take it away. I may get the + touch of the blind in fifty years. Do you know where Torpenhow has gone?' + </p> + <p> + The Nilghai knew nothing. 'We're staying in his rooms till he comes back. + Can we do anything for you?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'd like to be left alone, please. Don't think I'm ungrateful; but I'm + best alone.' + </p> + <p> + The Nilghai chuckled, and Dick resumed his drowsy brooding and sullen + rebellion against fate. He had long since ceased to think about the work + he had done in the old days, and the desire to do more work had departed + from him. He was exceedingly sorry for himself, and the completeness of + his tender grief soothed him. But his soul and his body cried for Maisie—Maisie + who would understand. His mind pointed out that Maisie, having her own + work to do, would not care. His experience had taught him that when money + was exhausted women went away, and that when a man was knocked out of the + race the others trampled on him. 'Then at the least,' said Dick, in reply, + 'she could use me as I used Binat,—for some sort of a study. I + wouldn't ask more than to be near her again, even though I knew that + another man was making love to her. Ugh! what a dog I am!' + </p> + <p> + A voice on the staircase began to sing joyfully— + </p> + <p> + 'When we go—go—go away from here, Our creditors will weep and + they will wail, Our absence much regretting when they find that they've + been getting Out of England by next Tuesday's Indian mail.' + </p> + <p> + Following the trampling of feet, slamming of Torpenhow's door, and the + sound of voices in strenuous debate, some one squeaked, 'And see, you good + fellows, I have found a new water-bottle—firs'-class patent—eh, + how you say? Open himself inside out.' + </p> + <p> + Dick sprang to his feet. He knew the voice well. 'That's Cassavetti, come + back from the Continent. Now I know why Torp went away. There's a row + somewhere, and—I'm out of it!' + </p> + <p> + The Nilghai commanded silence in vain. 'That's for my sake,' Dick said + bitterly. 'The birds are getting ready to fly, and they wouldn't tell me. + I can hear Morten-Sutherland and Mackaye. Half the War Correspondents in + London are there;—and I'm out of it.' + </p> + <p> + He stumbled across the landing and plunged into Torpenhow's room. He could + feel that it was full of men. 'Where's the trouble?' said he. 'In the + Balkans at last? Why didn't some one tell me?' + </p> + <p> + 'We thought you wouldn't be interested,' said the Nilghai, shamefacedly. + </p> + <p> + 'It's in the Soudan, as usual.' + </p> + <p> + 'You lucky dogs! Let me sit here while you talk. I shan't be a skeleton at + the feast.—Cassavetti, where are you? Your English is as bad as + ever.' + </p> + <p> + Dick was led into a chair. He heard the rustle of the maps, and the talk + swept forward, carrying him with it. Everybody spoke at once, discussing + press censorships, railway-routes, transport, water-supply, the capacities + of generals,—these in language that would have horrified a trusting + public,—rangint, asserting, denouncing, and laughing at the top of + their voices. There was the glorious certainty of war in the Soudan at any + moment. The Nilghai said so, and it was well to be in readiness. The Keneu + had telegraphed to Cairo for horses; Cassavetti had stolen a perfectly + inaccurate list of troops that would be ordered forward, and was reading + it out amid profane interruptions, and the Keneu introduced to Dick some + man unknown who would be employed as war artist by the Central Southern + Syndicate. 'It's his first outing,' said the Keneu. 'Give him some tips—about + riding camels.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, those camels!' groaned Cassavetti. 'I shall learn to ride him again, + and now I am so much all soft! Listen, you good fellows. I know your + military arrangement very well. There will go the Royal Argalshire + Sutherlanders. So it was read to me upon best authority.' + </p> + <p> + A roar of laughter interrupted him. + </p> + <p> + 'Sit down,' said the Nilghai. 'The lists aren't even made out in the War + Office.' + </p> + <p> + 'Will there be any force at Suakin?' aid a voice. + </p> + <p> + Then the outcries redoubled, and grew mixed, thus: 'How many Egyptian + troops will they use?—God help the Fellaheen!—There's a + railway in Plumstead marshes doing duty as a fives-court.—We shall + have the Suakin-Berber line built at last.—Canadian voyageurs are + too careful. Give me a half-drunk Krooman in a whale-boat.—Who + commands the Desert column?—No, they never blew up the big rock in + the Ghineh bend. We shall have to be hauled up, as usual.—Somebody + tell me if there's an Indian contingent, or I'll break everybody's head.—Don't + tear the map in two.—It's a war of occupation, I tell you, to + connect with the African companies in the South.—There's Guinea-worm + in most of the wells on that route.' Then the Nilghai, despairing of + peace, bellowed like a fog-horn and beat upon the table with both hands. + </p> + <p> + 'But what becomes of Torpenhow?' said Dick, in the silence that followed. + </p> + <p> + 'Torp's in abeyance just now. He's off love-making somewhere, I suppose,' + said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'He said he was going to stay at home,' said the Keneu. + </p> + <p> + 'Is he?' said Dick, with an oath. 'He won't. I'm not much good now, but if + you and the Nilghai hold him down I'll engage to trample on him till he + sees reason. He'll stay behind, indeed! He's the best of you all. There'll + be some tough work by Omdurman. We shall come there to stay, this time. + </p> + <p> + But I forgot. I wish I were going with you.' + </p> + <p> + 'So do we all, Dickie,' said the Keneu. + </p> + <p> + 'And I most of all,' said the new artist of the Central Southern + Syndicate. + </p> + <p> + 'Could you tell me——' + </p> + <p> + 'I'll give you one piece of advice,' Dick answered, moving towards the + door. 'If you happen to be cut over the head in a scrimmage, don't guard. + </p> + <p> + Tell the man to go on cutting. You'll find it cheapest in the end. Thanks + for letting me look in.' + </p> + <p> + 'There's grit in Dick,' said the Nilghai, an hour later, when the room was + emptied of all save the Keneu. + </p> + <p> + 'It was the sacred call of the war-trumpet. Did you notice how he answered + to it? Poor fellow! Let's look at him,' said the Keneu. + </p> + <p> + The excitement of the talk had died away. Dick was sitting by the studio + table, with his head on his arms, when the men came in. He did not change + his position. + </p> + <p> + 'It hurts,' he moaned. 'God forgive me, but it hurts cruelly; and yet, + y'know, the world has a knack of spinning round all by itself. Shall I see + Torp before he goes?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, yes. You'll see him,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The sun went down an hour ago, + I wonder if I face towards home; + If I lost my way in the light of day + How shall I find it now night is come? + + —Old Song. +</pre> + <p> + 'MAISIE, come to bed.' + </p> + <p> + 'It's so hot I can't sleep. Don't worry.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie put her elbows on the window-sill and looked at the moonlight on + the straight, poplar-flanked road. Summer had come upon Vitry-sur-Marne + and parched it to the bone. The grass was dry-burnt in the meadows, the + clay by the bank of the river was caked to brick, the roadside flowers + were long since dead, and the roses in the garden hung withered on their + stalks. The heat in the little low bedroom under the eaves was almost + intolerable. The very moonlight on the wall of Kami's studio across the + road seemed to make the night hotter, and the shadow of the big + bell-handle by the closed gate cast a bar of inky black that caught + Maisie's eye and annoyed her. + </p> + <p> + 'Horrid thing! It should be all white,' she murmured. 'And the gate isn't + in the middle of the wall, either. I never noticed that before.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie was hard to please at that hour. First, the heat of the past few + weeks had worn her down; secondly, her work, and particularly the study of + a female head intended to represent the Melancolia and not finished in + time for the Salon, was unsatisfactory; thirdly, Kami had said as much two + days before; fourthly,—but so completely fourthly that it was hardly + worth thinking about,—Dick, her property, had not written to her for + more than six weeks. She was angry with the heat, with Kami, and with her + work, but she was exceedingly angry with Dick. + </p> + <p> + She had written to him three times,—each time proposing a fresh + treatment of her Melancolia. Dick had taken no notice of these + communications. She had resolved to write no more. When she returned to + England in the autumn—for her pride's sake she could not return + earlier—she would speak to him. She missed the Sunday afternoon + conferences more than she cared to admit. All that Kami said was, + 'Continuez, mademoiselle, continuez toujours,' and he had been repeating + the wearisome counsel through the hot summer, exactly like a cicada,—an + old gray cicada in a black alpaca coat, white trousers, and a huge felt + hat. + </p> + <p> + But Dick had tramped masterfully up and down her little studio north of + the cool green London park, and had said things ten times worse than + continuez, before he snatched the brush out of her hand and showed her + where the error lay. His last letter, Maisie remembered, contained some + trivial advice about not sketching in the sun or drinking water at wayside + farmhouses; and he had said that not once, but three times,—as if he + did not know that Maisie could take care of herself. + </p> + <p> + But what was he doing, that he could not trouble to write? A murmur of + voices in the road made her lean from the window. A cavalryman of the + little garrison in the town was talking to Kami's cook. The moonlight + glittered on the scabbard of his sabre, which he was holding in his hand + lest it should clank inopportunely. The cook's cap cast deep shadows on + her face, which was close to the conscript's. He slid his arm round her + waist, and there followed the sound of a kiss. + </p> + <p> + 'Faugh!' said Maisie, stepping back. + </p> + <p> + 'What's that?' said the red-haired girl, who was tossing uneasily outside + her bed. + </p> + <p> + 'Only a conscript kissing the cook,' said Maisie. + </p> + <p> + 'They've gone away now.' She leaned out of the window again, and put a + shawl over her nightgown to guard against chills. There was a very small + night-breeze abroad, and a sun-baked rose below nodded its head as one who + knew unutterable secrets. Was it possible that Dick should turn his + thoughts from her work and his own and descend to the degradation of + Suzanne and the conscript? He could not! The rose nodded its head and one + leaf therewith. It looked like a naughty little devil scratching its ear. + </p> + <p> + Dick could not, 'because,' thought Maisie, 'he is mind,—mine,—mine. + He said he was. I'm sure I don't care what he does. It will only spoil his + work if he does; and it will spoil mine too.' + </p> + <p> + The rose continued to nod it the futile way peculiar to flowers. There was + no earthly reason why Dick should not disport himself as he chose, except + that he was called by Providence, which was Maisie, to assist Maisie in + her work. And her work was the preparation of pictures that went sometimes + to English provincial exhibitions, as the notices in the scrap-book + proved, and that were invariably rejected by the Salon when Kami was + plagued into allowing her to send them up. Her work in the future, it + seemed, would be the preparation of pictures on exactly similar lines + which would be rejected in exactly the same way——The + red-haired girl threshed distressfully across the sheets. 'It's too hot to + sleep,' she moaned; and the interruption jarred. + </p> + <p> + Exactly the same way. Then she would divide her years between the little + studio in England and Kami's big studio at Vitry-sur-Marne. No, she would + go to another master, who should force her into the success that was her + right, if patient toil and desperate endeavour gave one a right to + anything. Dick had told her that he had worked ten years to understand his + craft. She had worked ten years, and ten years were nothing. Dick had said + that ten years were nothing,—but that was in regard to herself only. + He had said—this very man who could not find time to write—that + he would wait ten years for her, and that she was bound to come back to + him sooner or later. He had said this in the absurd letter about sunstroke + and diphtheria; and then he had stopped writing. He was wandering up and + down moonlit streets, kissing cooks. She would like to lecture him now,—not + in her nightgown, of course, but properly dressed, severely and from a + height. Yet if he was kissing other girls he certainly would not care + whether she lecture him or not. He would laugh at her. Very good. + </p> + <p> + She would go back to her studio and prepare pictures that went, etc., etc. + </p> + <p> + The mill-wheel of thought swung round slowly, that no section of it might + be slurred over, and the red-haired girl tossed and turned behind her. + </p> + <p> + Maisie put her chin in her hands and decided that there could be no doubt + whatever of the villainy of Dick. To justify herself, she began, + unwomanly, to weigh the evidence. There was a boy, and he had said he + loved her. And he kissed her,—kissed her on the cheek,—by a + yellow sea-poppy that nodded its head exactly like the maddening dry rose + in the garden. Then there was an interval, and men had told her that they + loved her—just when she was busiest with her work. Then the boy came + back, and at their very second meeting had told her that he loved her. + Then he had—— But there was no end to the things he had done. + He had given her his time and his powers. He had spoken to her of Art, + housekeeping, technique, teacups, the abuse of pickles as a stimulant,—that + was rude,—sable hair-brushes,—he had given her the best in her + stock,—she used them daily; he had given her advice that she + profited by, and now and again—a look. Such a look! The look of a + beaten hound waiting for the word to crawl to his mistress's feet. In + return she had given him nothing whatever, except—here she brushed + her mouth against the open-work sleeve f her nightgown—the privilege + of kissing her once. And on the mouth, too. Disgraceful! Was that not + enough, and more than enough? and if it was not, had he not cancelled the + debt by not writing and—probably kissing other girls? 'Maisie, + you'll catch a chill. Do go and lie down,' said the wearied voice of her + companion. 'I can't sleep a wink with you at the window.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie shrugged her shoulders and did not answer. She was reflecting on + the meannesses of Dick, and on other meannesses with which he had nothing + to do. The moonlight would not let her sleep. It lay on the skylight of + the studio across the road in cold silver; she stared at it intently and + her thoughts began to slide one into the other. The shadow of the big + bell-handle in the wall grew short, lengthened again, and faded out as the + moon went down behind the pasture and a hare came limping home across the + road. Then the dawn-wind washed through the upland grasses, and brought + coolness with it, and the cattle lowed by the drought-shrunk river. + Maisie's head fell forward on the window-sill, and the tangle of black + hair covered her arms. + </p> + <p> + 'Maisie, wake up. You'll catch a chill.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, dear; yes, dear.' She staggered to her bed like a wearied child, and + as she buried her face in the pillows she muttered, 'I think—I + think.... + </p> + <p> + But he ought to have written.' + </p> + <p> + Day brought the routine of the studio, the smell of paint and turpentine, + and the monotone wisdom of Kami, who was a leaden artist, but a golden + teacher if the pupil were only in sympathy with him. Maisie was not in + sympathy that day, and she waited impatiently for the end of the work. + </p> + <p> + She knew when it was coming; for Kami would gather his black alpaca coat + into a bunch behind him, and, with faded flue eyes that saw neither pupils + nor canvas, look back into the past to recall the history of one Binat. + 'You have all done not so badly,' he would say. 'But you shall remember + that it is not enough to have the method, and the art, and the power, nor + even that which is touch, but you shall have also the conviction that + nails the work to the wall. Of the so many I taught,'—here the + students would begin to unfix drawing-pins or get their tubes together,—'the + very so many that I have taught, the best was Binat. All that comes of the + study and the work and the knowledge was to him even when he came. After + he left me he should have done all that could be done with the colour, the + form, and the knowledge. Only, he had not the conviction. So to-day I hear + no more of Binat,—the best of my pupils,—and that is long ago. + So to-day, too, you will be glad to hear no more of me. Continuez, + mesdemoiselles, and, above all, with conviction.' + </p> + <p> + He went into the garden to smoke and mourn over the lost Binat as the + pupils dispersed to their several cottages or loitered in the studio to + make plans for the cool of the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Maisie looked at her very unhappy Melancolia, restrained a desire to + grimace before it, and was hurrying across the road to write a letter to + Dick, when she was aware of a large man on a white troop-horse. How + Torpenhow had managed in the course of twenty hours to find his way to the + hearts of the cavalry officers in quarters at Vitry-sur-Marne, to discuss + with them the certainty of a glorious revenge for France, to reduce the + colonel to tears of pure affability, and to borrow the best horse in the + squadron for the journey to Kami's studio, is a mystery that only special + correspondents can unravel. + </p> + <p> + 'I beg your pardon,' said he. 'It seems an absurd question to ask, but the + fact is that I don't know her by any other name: Is there any young lady + here that is called Maisie?' + </p> + <p> + 'I am Maisie,' was the answer from the depths of a great sun-hat. + </p> + <p> + 'I ought to introduce myself,' he said, as the horse capered in the + blinding white dust. 'My name is Torpenhow. Dick Heldar is my best friend, + and—and—the fact is that he has gone blind.' + </p> + <p> + 'Blind!' said Maisie, stupidly. 'He can't be blind.' + </p> + <p> + 'He has been stone-blind for nearly two months.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie lifted up her face, and it was pearly white. 'No! No! Not blind! I + won't have him blind!' + </p> + <p> + 'Would you care to see for yourself?' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'Now,—at once?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, no! The Paris train doesn't go through this place till to-night. + There will be ample time.' + </p> + <p> + 'Did Mr. Heldar send you to me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Certainly not. Dick wouldn't do that sort of thing. He's sitting in his + studio, turning over some letters that he can't read because he's blind.' + </p> + <p> + There was a sound of choking from the sun-hat. Maisie bowed her head and + went into the cottage, where the red-haired girl was on a sofa, + complaining of a headache. + </p> + <p> + 'Dick's blind!' said Maisie, taking her breath quickly as she steadied + herself against a chair-back. 'My Dick's blind!' + </p> + <p> + 'What?' The girl was on the sofa no longer. + </p> + <p> + 'A man has come from England to tell me. He hasn't written to me for six + weeks.' + </p> + <p> + 'Are you going to him?' + </p> + <p> + 'I must think.' + </p> + <p> + 'Think! I should go back to London and see him and I should kiss his eyes + and kiss them and kiss them until they got well again! If you don't go I + shall. Oh, what am I talking about? You wicked little idiot! Go to him at + once. Go!' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow's neck was blistering, but he preserved a smile of infinite + patience as Maisie's appeared bareheaded in the sunshine. + </p> + <p> + 'I am coming,' said she, her eyes on the ground. + </p> + <p> + 'You will be at Vitry Station, then, at seven this evening.' This was an + order delivered by one who was used to being obeyed. Maisie said nothing, + but she felt grateful that there was no chance of disputing with this big + man who took everything for granted and managed a squealing horse with one + hand. She returned to the red-haired girl, who was weeping bitterly, and + between tears, kisses,—very few of those,—menthol, packing, + and an interview with Kami, the sultry afternoon wore away. + </p> + <p> + Thought might come afterwards. Her present duty was to go to Dick,—Dick + who owned the wondrous friend and sat in the dark playing with her + unopened letters. + </p> + <p> + 'But what will you do,' she said to her companion. + </p> + <p> + 'I? Oh, I shall stay here and—finish your Melancolia,' she said, + smiling pitifully. 'Write to me afterwards.' + </p> + <p> + That night there ran a legend through Vitry-sur-Marne of a mad Englishman, + doubtless suffering from sunstroke, who had drunk all the officers of the + garrison under the table, had borrowed a horse from the lines, and had + then and there eloped, after the English custom, with one of those more + mad English girls who drew pictures down there under the care of that good + Monsieur Kami. + </p> + <p> + 'They are very droll,' said Suzanne to the conscript in the moonlight by + the studio wall. 'She walked always with those big eyes that saw nothing, + and yet she kisses me on both cheeks as though she were my sister, and + gives me—see—ten francs!' + </p> + <p> + The conscript levied a contribution on both gifts; for he prided himself + on being a good soldier. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow spoke very little to Maisie during the journey to Calais; but he + was careful to attend to all her wants, to get her a compartment entirely + to herself, and to leave her alone. He was amazed of the ease with which + the matter had been accomplished. + </p> + <p> + 'The safest thing would be to let her think things out. By Dick's showing,—when + he was off his head,—she must have ordered him about very + thoroughly. Wonder how she likes being under orders.' + </p> + <p> + Maisie never told. She sat in the empty compartment often with her eyes + shut, that she might realise the sensation of blindness. It was an order + that she should return to London swiftly, and she found herself at last + almost beginning to enjoy the situation. This was better than looking + after luggage and a red-haired friend who never took any interest in her + surroundings. But there appeared to be a feeling in the air that she, + Maisie,—of all people,—was in disgrace. Therefore she + justified her conduct to herself with great success, till Torpenhow came + up to her on the steamer and without preface began to tell the story of + Dick's blindness, suppressing a few details, but dwelling at length on the + miseries of delirium. He stopped before he reached the end, as though he + had lost interest in the subject, and went forward to smoke. Maisie was + furious with him and with herself. + </p> + <p> + She was hurried on from Dover to London almost before she could ask for + breakfast, and—she was past any feeling of indignation now—was + bidden curtly to wait in a hall at the foot of some lead-covered stairs + while Torpenhow went up to make inquiries. Again the knowledge that she + was being treated like a naughty little girl made her pale cheeks flame. + It was all Dick's fault for being so stupid as to go blind. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow led her up to a shut door, which he opened very softly. Dick was + sitting by the window, with his chin on his chest. There were three + envelopes in his hand, and he turned them over and over. The big man who + gave orders was no longer by her side, and the studio door snapped behind + her. + </p> + <p> + Dick thrust the letters into his pocket as he heard the sound. 'Hullo, + Topr! Is that you? I've been so lonely.' + </p> + <p> + His voice had taken the peculiar flatness of the blind. Maisie pressed + herself up into a corner of the room. Her heart was beating furiously, and + she put one hand on her breast to keep it quiet. Dick was staring directly + at her, and she realised for the first time that he was blind. + </p> + <p> + Shutting her eyes in a rail-way carriage to open them when she pleased was + child's play. This man was blind though his eyes were wide open. + </p> + <p> + 'Torp, is that you? They said you were coming.' Dick looked puzzled and a + little irritated at the silence. + </p> + <p> + 'No; it's only me,' was the answer, in a strained little whisper. Maisie + could hardly move her lips. + </p> + <p> + 'H'm!' said Dick, composedly, without moving. 'This is a new phenomenon. + Darkness I'm getting used to; but I object to hearing voices.' + </p> + <p> + Was he mad, then, as well as blind, that he talked to himself? Maisie's + heart beat more wildly, and she breathed in gasps. Dick rose and began to + feel his way across the room, touching each table and chair as he passed. + Once he caught his foot on a rug, and swore, dropping on his knees to feel + what the obstruction might be. Maisie remembered him walking in the Park + as though all the earth belonged to him, tramping up and down her studio + two months ago, and flying up the gangway of the Channel steamer. The + beating of her heart was making her sick, and Dick was coming nearer, + guided by the sound of her breathing. She put out a hand mechanically to + ward him off or to draw him to herself, she did not know which. It touched + his chest, and he stepped back as though he had been shot. + </p> + <p> + 'It's Maisie!' said he, with a dry sob. 'What are you doing here?' + </p> + <p> + 'I came—I came—to see you, please.' + </p> + <p> + Dick's lips closed firmly. + </p> + <p> + 'Won't you sit down, then? You see, I've had some bother with my eyes, and——' + </p> + <p> + 'I know. I know. Why didn't you tell me?' + </p> + <p> + 'I couldn't write.' + </p> + <p> + 'You might have told Mr. Torpenhow.' + </p> + <p> + 'What has he to do with my affairs?' + </p> + <p> + 'He—he brought me from Vitry-sur-Marne. He thought I ought to see + you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why, what has happened? Can I do anything for you? No, I can't. I + forgot.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, Dick, I'm so sorry! I've come to tell you, and—— Let me + take you back to your chair.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't! I'm not a child. You only do that out of pity. I never meant to + tell you anything about it. I'm no good now. I'm down and done for. Let me + alone!' + </p> + <p> + He groped back to his chair, his chest labouring as he sat down. + </p> + <p> + Maisie watched him, and the fear went out of her heart, to be followed by + a very bitter shame. He had spoken a truth that had been hidden from the + girl through every step of the impetuous flight to London; for he was, + indeed, down and done for—masterful no longer but rather a little + abject; neither an artist stronger than she, nor a man to be looked up to—only + some blind one that sat in a chair and seemed on the point of crying. She + was immensely and unfeignedly sorry for him—more sorry than she had + ever been for any one in her life, but not sorry enough to deny his words. + </p> + <p> + So she stood still and felt ashamed and a little hurt, because she had + honestly intended that her journey should end triumphantly; and now she + was only filled with pity most startlingly distinct from love. + </p> + <p> + 'Well?' said Dick, his face steadily turned away. 'I never meant to worry + you any more. What's the matter?' + </p> + <p> + He was conscious that Maisie was catching her breath, but was as + unprepared as herself for the torrent of emotion that followed. She had + dropped into a chair and was sobbing with her face hidden in her hands. + </p> + <p> + 'I can't—I can't!' she cried desperately. 'Indeed, I can't. It isn't + my fault. + </p> + <p> + I'm so sorry. Oh, Dickie, I'm so sorry.' + </p> + <p> + Dick's shoulders straightened again, for the words lashed like a whip. + </p> + <p> + Still the sobbing continued. It is not good to realise that you have + failed in the hour of trial or flinched before the mere possibility of + making sacrifices. + </p> + <p> + 'I do despise myself—indeed I do. But I can't. Oh, Dickie, you + wouldn't ask me—would you?' wailed Maisie. + </p> + <p> + She looked up for a minute, and by chance it happened that Dick's eyes + fell on hers. The unshaven face was very white and set, and the lips were + trying to force themselves into a smile. But it was the worn-out eyes that + Maisie feared. Her Dick had gone blind and left in his place some one that + she could hardly recognise till he spoke. + </p> + <p> + 'Who is asking you to do anything, Maisie? I told you how it would be. + </p> + <p> + What's the use of worrying? For pity's sake don't cry like that; it isn't + worth it.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know how I hate myself. Oh, Dick, help me—help me!' The + passion of tears had grown beyond her control and was beginning to alarm + the man. He stumbled forward and put his arm round her, and her head fell + on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + 'Hush, dear, hush! Don't cry. You're quite right, and you've nothing to + reproach yourself with—you never had. You're only a little upset by + the journey, and I don't suppose you've had any breakfast. What a brute + Torp was to bring you over.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wanted to come. I did indeed,' she protested. + </p> + <p> + 'Very well. And now you've come and seen, and I'm—immensely + grateful. + </p> + <p> + When you're better you shall go away and get something to eat. What sort + of a passage did you have coming over?' + </p> + <p> + Maisie was crying more subduedly, for the first time in her life glad that + she had something to lean against. Dick patted her on the shoulder + tenderly but clumsily, for he was not quite sure where her shoulder might + be. + </p> + <p> + She drew herself out of his arms at last and waited, trembling and most + unhappy. He had felt his way to the window to put the width of the room + between them, and to quiet a little the tumult in his heart. + </p> + <p> + 'Are you better now?' he said. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, but—don't you hate me?' + </p> + <p> + 'I hate you? My God! I?' + </p> + <p> + 'Isn't—isn't there anything I could do for you, then? I'll stay here + in England to do it, if you like. Perhaps I could come and see you + sometimes.' + </p> + <p> + 'I think not, dear. It would be kindest not to see me any more, please. I + don't want to seem rude, but—don't you think—perhaps you had + almost better go now.' + </p> + <p> + He was conscious that he could not bear himself as a man if the strain + continued much longer. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't deserve anything else. I'll go, Dick. Oh, I'm so miserable.' + </p> + <p> + 'Nonsense. You've nothing to worry about; I'd tell you if you had. Wait a + moment, dear. I've got something to give you first. I meant it for you + ever since this little trouble began. It's my Melancolia; she was a beauty + when I last saw her. You can keep her for me, and if ever you're poor you + can sell her. She's worth a few hundreds at any state of the market.' He + groped among his canvases. 'She's framed in black. Is this a black frame + that I have my hand on? There she is. What do you think of her?' + </p> + <p> + He turned a scarred formless muddle of paint towards Maisie, and the eyes + strained as though they would catch her wonder and surprise. One thing and + one thing only could she do for him. + </p> + <p> + 'Well?' + </p> + <p> + The voice was fuller and more rounded, because the man knew he was + speaking of his best work. Maisie looked at the blur, and a lunatic desire + to laugh caught her by the throat. But for Dick's sake—whatever this + mad blankness might mean—she must make no sign. Her voice choked + with hard-held tears as she answered, still gazing at the wreck—'Oh, + Dick, it is good!' + </p> + <p> + He heard the little hysterical gulp and took it for tribute. 'Won't you + have it, then? I'll send it over to your house if you will.' + </p> + <p> + 'I? Oh yes—thank you. Ha! ha!' If she did not fly at once the + laughter that was worse than tears would kill her. She turned and ran, + choking and blinded, down the staircases that were empty of life to take + refuge in a cab and go to her house across the Parks. There she sat down + in the dismantled drawing-room and thought of Dick in his blindness, + useless till the end of life, and of herself in her own eyes. Behind the + sorrow, the shame, and the humiliation, lay fear of the cold wrath of the + red-haired girl when Maisie should return. Maisie had never feared her + companion before. Not until she found herself saying, 'Well, he never + asked me,' did she realise her scorn of herself. + </p> + <p> + And that is the end of Maisie. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + For Dick was reserved more searching torment. He could not realise at + first that Maisie, whom he had ordered to go had left him without a word + of farewell. He was savagely angry against Torpenhow, who had brought upon + him this humiliation and troubled his miserable peace. Then his dark hour + came and he was alone with himself and his desires to get what help he + could from the darkness. The queen could do no wrong, but in following the + right, so far as it served her work, she had wounded her one subject more + than his own brain would let him know. + </p> + <p> + 'It's all I had and I've lost it,' he said, as soon as the misery + permitted clear thinking. 'And Torp will think that he has been so + infernally clever that I shan't have the heart to tell him. I must think + this out quietly.' + </p> + <p> + 'Hullo!' said Torpenhow, entering the studio after Dick had enjoyed two + hours of thought. 'I'm back. Are you feeling any better?' + </p> + <p> + 'Torp, I don't know what to say. Come here.' Dick coughed huskily, + wondering, indeed, what he should say, and how to say it temperately. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the need for saying anything? Get up and tramp.' Torpenhow was + perfectly satisfied. + </p> + <p> + They walked up and down as of custom, Torpenhow's hand on Dick's shoulder, + and Dick buried in his own thoughts. + </p> + <p> + 'How in the world did you find it all out?' said Dick, at last. + </p> + <p> + 'You shouldn't go off your head if you want to keep secrets, Dickie. It + was absolutely impertinent on my part; but if you'd seen me rocketing + about on a half-trained French troop-horse under a blazing sun you'd have + laughed. There will be a charivari in my rooms to-night. Seven other + devils——' + </p> + <p> + 'I know—the row in the Southern Soudan. I surprised their councils + the other day, and it made me unhappy. Have you fixed your flint to go? + Who d'you work for?' + </p> + <p> + 'Haven't signed any contracts yet. I wanted to see how your business would + turn out.' + </p> + <p> + 'Would you have stayed with me, then, if—things had gone wrong?' He + put his question cautiously. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't ask me too much. I'm only a man.' + </p> + <p> + 'You've tried to be an angel very successfully.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh ye—es!... Well, do you attend the function to-night? We shall be + half screwed before the morning. All the men believe the war's a + certainty.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't think I will, old man, if it's all the same to you. I'll stay + quiet here.' + </p> + <p> + 'And meditate? I don't blame you. You observe a good time if ever a man + did.' + </p> + <p> + That night there was a tumult on the stairs. The correspondents poured in + from theatre, dinner, and music-hall to Torpenhow's room that they might + discuss their plan of campaign in the event of military operations + becoming a certainty. Torpenhow, the Keneu, and the Nilghai had bidden all + the men they had worked with to the orgy; and Mr. Beeton, the housekeeper, + declared that never before in his checkered experience had he seen quite + such a fancy lot of gentlemen. They waked the chambers with shoutings and + song; and the elder men were quite as bad as the younger. For the chances + of war were in front of them, and all knew what those meant. + </p> + <p> + Sitting in his own room a little perplexed by the noise across the + landing, Dick suddenly began to laugh to himself. + </p> + <p> + 'When one comes to think of it the situation is intensely comic. Maisie's + quite right—poor little thing. I didn't know she could cry like that + before; but now I know what Torp thinks, I'm sure he'd be quite fool + enough to stay at home and try to console me—if he knew. Besides, it + isn't nice to own that you've been thrown over like a broken chair. I must + carry this business through alone—as usual. If there isn't a war, + and Torp finds out, I shall look foolish, that's all. If there is a way I + mustn't interfere with another man's chances. Business is business, and I + want to be alone—I want to be alone. What a row they're making!' + </p> + <p> + Somebody hammered at the studio door. + </p> + <p> + 'Come out and frolic, Dickie,' said the Nilghai. + </p> + <p> + 'I should like to, but I can't. I'm not feeling frolicsome.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then, I'll tell the boys and they'll drag you like a badger.' + </p> + <p> + 'Please not, old man. On my word, I'd sooner be left alone just now.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very good. Can we send anything in to you? Fizz, for instance. + </p> + <p> + Cassavetti is beginning to sing songs of the Sunny South already.' + </p> + <p> + For one minute Dick considered the proposition seriously. + </p> + <p> + 'No, thanks, I've a headache already.' + </p> + <p> + 'Virtuous child. That's the effect of emotion on the young. All my + congratulations, Dick. I also was concerned in the conspiracy for your + welfare.' + </p> + <p> + 'Go to the devil—oh, send Binkie in here.' + </p> + <p> + The little dog entered on elastic feet, riotous from having been made much + of all the evening. He had helped to sing the choruses; but scarcely + inside the studio he realised that this was no place for tail-wagging, and + settled himself on Dick's lap till it was bedtime. Then he went to bed + with Dick, who counted every hour as it struck, and rose in the morning + with a painfully clear head to receive Torpenhow's more formal + congratulations and a particular account of the last night's revels. + </p> + <p> + 'You aren't looking very happy for a newly accepted man,' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind that—it's my own affair, and I'm all right. Do you + really go?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. With the old Central Southern as usual. They wired, and I accepted + on better terms than before.' + </p> + <p> + 'When do you start?' + </p> + <p> + 'The day after to-morrow—for Brindisi.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thank God.' Dick spoke from the bottom of his heart. + </p> + <p> + 'Well, that's not a pretty way of saying you're glad to get rid of me. But + men in your condition are allowed to be selfish.' + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't mean that. Will you get a hundred pounds cashed for me before + you leave?' + </p> + <p> + 'That's a slender amount for housekeeping, isn't it?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, it's only for—marriage expenses.' + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow brought him the money, counted it out in fives and tens, and + carefully put it away in the writing table. + </p> + <p> + 'Now I suppose I shall have to listen to his ravings about his girl until + I go. Heaven send us patience with a man in love!' he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + But never a word did Dick say of Maisie or marriage. He hung in the + doorway of Torpenhow's room when the latter was packing and asked + innumerable questions about the coming campaign, till Torpenhow began to + feel annoyed. + </p> + <p> + 'You're a secretive animal, Dickie, and you consume your own smoke, don't + you?' he said on the last evening. + </p> + <p> + 'I—I suppose so. By the way, how long do you think this war will + last?' + </p> + <p> + 'Days, weeks, or months. One can never tell. It may go on for years.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wish I were going.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good Heavens! You're the most unaccountable creature! Hasn't it occurred + to you that you're going to be married—thanks to me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course, yes. I'm going to be married—so I am. Going to be + married. + </p> + <p> + I'm awfully grateful to you. Haven't I told you that?' + </p> + <p> + 'You might be going to be hanged by the look of you,' said Torpenhow. + </p> + <p> + And the next day Torpenhow bade him good-bye and left him to the + loneliness he had so much desired. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Yet at the last, ere our spearmen had found him, + Yet at the last, ere a sword-thrust could save, + Yet at the last, with his masters around him, + He of the Faith spoke as master to slave; + Yet at the last, tho' the Kafirs had maimed him, + Broken by bondage and wrecked by the reiver,— + Yet at the last, tho' the darkness had claimed him, + He called upon Allah and died a believer. + + —Kizzilbashi. +</pre> + <p> + 'BEG your pardon, Mr. Heldar, but—but isn't nothin' going to + happen?' said Mr. Beeton. + </p> + <p> + 'No!' Dick had just waked to another morning of blank despair and his + temper was of the shortest. + </p> + <p> + ''Tain't my regular business, o' course, sir; and what I say is, "Mind + your own business and let other people mind theirs;" but just before Mr. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow went away he give me to understand, like, that you might be + moving into a house of your own, so to speak—a sort of house with + rooms upstairs and downstairs where you'd be better attended to, though I + try to act just by all our tenants. Don't I?' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! That must have been a mad-house. I shan't trouble you to take me + there yet. Get me my breakfast, please, and leave me alone.' + </p> + <p> + 'I hope I haven't done anything wrong, sir, but you know I hope that as + far as a man can I tries to do the proper thing by all the gentlemen in + chambers—and more particular those whose lot is hard—such as + you, for instance, Mr. Heldar. You likes soft-roe bloater, don't you? + Soft-roe bloaters is scarcer than hard-roe, but what I says is, "Never + mind a little extra trouble so long as you give satisfaction to the + tenants."' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beeton withdrew and left Dick to himself. Torpenhow had been long + away; there was no more rioting in the chambers, and Dick had settled down + to his new life, which he was weak enough to consider nothing better than + death. + </p> + <p> + It is hard to live alone in the dark, confusing the day and night; + dropping to sleep through sheer weariness at mid-day, and rising restless + in the chill of the dawn. At first Dick, on his awakenings, would grope + along the corridors of the chambers till he heard some one snore. Then he + would know that the day had not yet come, and return wearily to his + bedroom. + </p> + <p> + Later he learned not to stir till there was a noise and movement in the + house and Mr. Beeton advised him to get up. Once dressed—and + dressing, now that Torpenhow was away, was a lengthy business, because + collars, ties, and the like hid themselves in far corners of the room, and + search meant head-beating against chairs and trunks—once dressed, + there was nothing whatever to do except to sit still and brood till the + three daily meals came. Centuries separated breakfast from lunch and lunch + from dinner, and though a man prayed for hundreds of years that his mind + might be taken from him, God would never hear. Rather the mind was + quickened and the revolving thoughts ground against each other as + millstones grind when there is no corn between; and yet the brain would + not wear out and give him rest. It continued to think, at length, with + imagery and all manner of reminiscences. It recalled Maisie and past + success, reckless travels by land and sea, the glory of doing work and + feeling that it was good, and suggested all that might have happened had + the eyes only been faithful to their duty. When thinking ceased through + sheer weariness, there poured into Dick's soul tide on tide of + overwhelming, purposeless fear—dread of starvation always, terror + lest the unseen ceiling should crush down upon him, fear of fire in the + chambers and a louse's death in red flame, and agonies of fiercer horror + that had nothing to do with any fear of death. Then Dick bowed his head, + and clutching the arms of his chair fought with his sweating self till the + tinkle of plates told him that something to eat was being set before him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beeton would bring the meal when he had time to spare, and Dick + learned to hang upon his speech, which dealt with badly fitted gas-plugs, + waste-pipes out of repair, little tricks for driving picture-nails into + walls, and the sins of the charwoman or the housemaids. In the lack of + better things the small gossip of a servant'' hall becomes immensely + interesting, and the screwing of a washer on a tap an event to be talked + over for days. + </p> + <p> + Once or twice a week, too, Mr. Beeton would take Dick out with him when he + went marketing in the morning to haggle with tradesmen over fish, + lamp-wicks, mustard, tapioca, and so forth, while Dick rested his weight + first on one foot and then on the other and played aimlessly with the tins + and string-ball on the counter. Then they would perhaps meet one of Mr. + Beeton's friends, and Dick, standing aside a little, would hold his peace + till Mr. Beeton was willing to go on again. + </p> + <p> + The life did not increase his self-respect. He abandoned shaving as a + dangerous exercise, and being shaved in a barber's shop meant exposure of + his infirmity. He could not see that his clothes were properly brushed, + and since he had never taken any care of his personal appearance he became + every known variety of sloven. A blind man cannot deal with cleanliness + till he has been some months used to the darkness. If he demand attendance + and grow angry at the want of it, he must assert himself and stand + upright. Then the meanest menial can see that he is blind and, therefore, + of no consequence. A wise man will keep his eyes on the floor and sit + still. For amusement he may pick coal lump by lump out of the scuttle with + the tongs and pile it in a little heap in the fender, keeping count of the + lumps, which must all be put back again, one by one and very carefully. He + may set himself sums if he cares to work them out; he may talk to himself + or to the cat if she chooses to visit him; and if his trade has been that + of an artist, he may sketch in the air with his forefinger; but that is + too much like drawing a pig with the eyes shut. He may go to his + bookshelves and count his books, ranging them in order of their size; or + to his wardrobe and count his shirts, laying them in piles of two or three + on the bed, as they suffer from frayed cuffs or lost buttons. + </p> + <p> + Even this entertainment wearies after a time; and all the times are very, + very long. + </p> + <p> + Dick was allowed to sort a tool-chest where Mr. Beeton kept hammers, taps + and nuts, lengths of gas-pipes, oil-bottles, and string. + </p> + <p> + 'If I don't have everything just where I know where to look for it, why, + then, I can't find anything when I do want it. You've no idea, sir, the + amount of little things that these chambers uses up,' said Mr. Beeton. + </p> + <p> + Fumbling at the handle of the door as he went out: 'It's hard on you, sir, + I do think it's hard on you. Ain't you going to do anything, sir?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'll pay my rent and messing. Isn't that enough?' + </p> + <p> + 'I wasn't doubting for a moment that you couldn't pay your way, sir; but I + 'ave often said to my wife, "It's 'ard on 'im because it isn't as if he + was an old man, nor yet a middle-aged one, but quite a young gentleman. + That's where it comes so 'ard."' + </p> + <p> + 'I suppose so,' said Dick, absently. This particular nerve through long + battering had ceased to feel—much. + </p> + <p> + 'I was thinking,' continued Mr. Beeton, still making as if to go, 'that + you might like to hear my boy Alf read you the papers sometimes of an + evening. He do read beautiful, seeing he's only nine.' + </p> + <p> + 'I should be very grateful,' said Dick. 'Only let me make it worth his + while.' + </p> + <p> + 'We wasn't thinking of that, sir, but of course it's in your own 'ands; + but only to 'ear Alf sing "A Boy's best Friend is 'is Mother!" Ah!' + </p> + <p> + 'I'll hear him sing that too. Let him come this evening with the + newspapers.' + </p> + <p> + Alf was not a nice child, being puffed up with many school-board + certificates for good conduct, and inordinately proud of his singing. Mr. + </p> + <p> + Beeton remained, beaming, while the child wailed his way through a song of + some eight eight-line verses in the usual whine of a young Cockney, and, + after compliments, left him to read Dick the foreign telegrams. Ten + minutes later Alf returned to his parents rather pale and scared. + </p> + <p> + ''E said 'e couldn't stand it no more,' he explained. + </p> + <p> + 'He never said you read badly, Alf?' Mrs. Beeton spoke. + </p> + <p> + 'No. 'E said I read beautiful. Said 'e never 'eard any one read like that, + but 'e said 'e couldn't abide the stuff in the papers.' + </p> + <p> + 'P'raps he's lost some money in the Stocks. Were you readin' him about + Stocks, Alf?' + </p> + <p> + 'No; it was all about fightin' out there where the soldiers is gone—a + great long piece with all the lines close together and very hard words in + it. 'E give me 'arf a crown because I read so well. And 'e says the next + time there's anything 'e wants read 'e'll send for me.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's good hearing, but I do think for all the half-crown—put it + into the kicking-donkey money-box, Alf, and let me see you do it—he + might have kept you longer. Why, he couldn't have begun to understand how + beautiful you read.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's best left to hisself—gentlemen always are when they're + downhearted,' said Mr. Beeton. + </p> + <p> + Alf's rigorously limited powers of comprehending Torpenhow's special + correspondence had waked the devil of unrest in Dick. He could hear, + through the boy's nasal chant, the camels grunting in the squares behind + the soldiers outside Suakin; could hear the men swearing and chaffing + across the cooking pots, and could smell the acrid wood-smoke as it + drifted over camp before the wind of the desert. + </p> + <p> + That night he prayed to God that his mind might be taken from him, + offering for proof that he was worthy of this favour the fact that he had + not shot himself long ago. That prayer was not answered, and indeed Dick + knew in his heart of hearts that only a lingering sense of humour and no + special virtue had kept him alive. Suicide, he had persuaded himself, + would be a ludicrous insult to the gravity of the situation as well as a + weak-kneed confession of fear. + </p> + <p> + 'Just for the fun of the thing,' he said to the cat, who had taken + Binkie's place in his establishment, 'I should like to know how long this + is going to last. I can live for a year on the hundred pounds Torp cashed + for me. I must have two or three thousand at least in the Bank—twenty + or thirty years more provided for, that is to say. Then I fall back on my + hundred and twenty a year, which will be more by that time. Let's + consider. + </p> + <p> + Twenty-five—thirty-five—a man's in his prime then, they say—forty-five—a + middle-aged man just entering politics—fifty-five—"died at the + comparatively early age of fifty-five," according to the newspapers. Bah! + How these Christians funk death! Sixty-five—we're only getting on in + years. Seventy-five is just possible, though. Great hell, cat O! fifty + years more of solitary confinement in the dark! You'll die, and Beeton + will die, and Torp will die, and Mai—everybody else will die, but I + shall be alive and kicking with nothing to do. I'm very sorry for myself. + I should like some one else to be sorry for me. Evidently I'm not going ma + before I die, but the pain's just as bad as ever. Some day when you're + vivisected, cat O! they'll tie you down on a little table and cut you open—but + don't be afraid; they'll take precious good care that you don't die. + You'll live, and you'll be very sorry then that you weren't sorry for me. + Perhaps Torp will come back or... I wish I could go to Torp and the + Nilghai, even though I were in their way.' + </p> + <p> + Pussy left the room before the speech was ended, and Alf, as he entered, + found Dick addressing the empty hearth-rug. + </p> + <p> + 'There's a letter for you, sir,' he said. 'Perhaps you'd like me to read + it.' + </p> + <p> + 'Lend it to me for a minute and I'll tell you.' + </p> + <p> + The outstretched hand shook just a little and the voice was not + over-steady. It was within the limits of human possibility that—that + was no letter from Maisie. He knew the heft of three closed envelopes only + too well. It was a foolish hope that the girl should write to him, for he + did not realise that there is a wrong which admits of no reparation though + the evildoer may with tears and the heart's best love strive to mend all. + It is best to forget that wrong whether it be caused or endured, since it + is as remediless as bad work once put forward. + </p> + <p> + 'Read it, then,' said Dick, and Alf began intoning according to the rules + of the Board School—'"I could have given you love, I could have + given you loyalty, such as you never dreamed of. Do you suppose I cared + what you were? But you chose to whistle everything down the wind for + nothing. My only excuse for you is that you are so young." 'That's all,' + he said, returning the paper to be dropped into the fire. + </p> + <p> + 'What was in the letter?' asked Mrs. Beeton, when Alf returned. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know. I think it was a circular or a tract about not whistlin' at + everything when you're young.' + </p> + <p> + 'I must have stepped on something when I was alive and walking about and + it has bounced up and hit me. God help it, whatever it is—unless it + was all a joke. But I don't know any one who'd take the trouble to play a + joke on me.... Love and loyalty for nothing. It sounds tempting enough. + </p> + <p> + I wonder whether I have lost anything really?' + </p> + <p> + Dick considered for a long time but could not remember when or how he had + put himself in the way of winning these trifles at a woman's hands. + </p> + <p> + Still, the letter as touching on matters that he preferred not to think + about stung him into a fit of frenzy that lasted for a day and night. When + his heart was so full of despair that it would hold no more, body and soul + together seemed to be dropping without check through the darkness. + </p> + <p> + Then came fear of darkness and desperate attempts to reach the light + again. But there was no light to be reached. When that agony had left him + sweating and breathless, the downward flight would recommence till the + gathering torture of it spurred him into another fight as hopeless as the + first. Followed some few minutes of sleep in which he dreamed that he saw. + Then the procession of events would repeat itself till he was utterly worn + out and the brain took up its everlasting consideration of Maisie and + might-have-beens. + </p> + <p> + At the end of everything Mr. Beeton came to his room and volunteered to + take him out. 'Not marketing this time, but we'll go into the Parks if you + like.' + </p> + <p> + 'Be damned if I do,' quoth Dick. 'Keep to the streets and walk up and + down. I like to hear the people round me.' + </p> + <p> + This was not altogether true. The blind in the first stages of their + infirmity dislike those who can move with a free stride and unlifted arms—but + Dick had no earthly desire to go to the Parks. Once and only once since + Maisie had shut her door he had gone there under Alf's charge. Alf forgot + him and fished for minnows in the Serpentine with some companions. After + half an hour's waiting Dick, almost weeping with rage and wrath, caught a + passer-by, who introduced him to a friendly policeman, who led him to a + four-wheeler opposite the Albert Hall. He never told Mr. Beeton of Alf's + forgetfulness, but... this was not the manner in which he was used to walk + the Parks aforetime. + </p> + <p> + 'What streets would you like to walk down, then?' said Mr. Beeton, + sympathetically. His own ideas of a riotous holiday meant picnicking on + the grass of Green Park with his family, and half a dozen paper bags full + of food. + </p> + <p> + 'Keep to the river,' said Dick, and they kept to the river, and the rush + of it was in his ears till they came to Blackfriars Bridge and struck + thence on to the Waterloo Road, Mr. Beeton explaining the beauties of the + scenery as he went on. + </p> + <p> + 'And walking on the other side of the pavement,' said he, 'unless I'm much + mistaken, is the young woman that used to come to your rooms to be drawed. + I never forgets a face and I never remembers a name, except paying + tenants, o' course!' + </p> + <p> + 'Stop her,' said Dick. 'It's Bessie Broke. Tell her I'd like to speak to + her again. Quick, man!' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beeton crossed the road under the noses of the omnibuses and arrested + Bessie then on her way northward. She recognised him as the man in + authority who used to glare at her when she passed up Dick's staircase, + and her first impulse was to run. + </p> + <p> + 'Wasn't you Mr. Heldar's model?' said Mr. Beeton, planting himself in + front of her. 'You was. He's on the other side of the road and he'd like + to see you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Why?' said Bessie, faintly. She remembered—indeed had never for + long forgotten—an affair connected with a newly finished picture. + </p> + <p> + 'Because he has asked me to do so, and because he's most particular + blind.' + </p> + <p> + 'Drunk?' + </p> + <p> + 'No. 'Orspital blind. He can't see. That's him over there.' + </p> + <p> + Dick was leaning against the parapet of the bridge as Mr. Beeton pointed + him out—a stub-bearded, bowed creature wearing a dirty + magenta-coloured neckcloth outside an unbrushed coat. There was nothing to + fear from such an one. Even if he chased her, Bessie thought, he could not + follow far. She crossed over, and Dick's face lighted up. It was long + since a woman of any kind had taken the trouble to speak to him. + </p> + <p> + 'I hope you're well, Mr. Heldar?' said Bessie, a little puzzled. Mr. + Beeton stood by with the air of an ambassador and breathed responsibly. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm very well indeed, and, by Jove! I'm glad to see—hear you, I + mean, Bess. You never thought it worth while to turn up and see us again + after you got your money. I don't know why you should. Are you going + anywhere in particular just now?' + </p> + <p> + 'I was going for a walk,' said Bessie. + </p> + <p> + 'Not the old business?' Dick spoke under his breath. + </p> + <p> + 'Lor, no! I paid my premium'—Bessie was very proud of that word—'for + a barmaid, sleeping in, and I'm at the bar now quite respectable. Indeed I + am.' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beeton had no special reason to believe in the loftiness of human + nature. Therefore he dissolved himself like a mist and returned to his + gas-plugs without a word of apology. Bessie watched the flight with a + certain uneasiness; but so long as Dick appeared to be ignorant of the + harm that had been done to him... + </p> + <p> + 'It's hard work pulling the beer-handles,' she went on, 'and they've got + one of them penny-in-the-slot cash-machines, so if you get wrong by a + penny at the end of the day—but then I don't believe the machinery + is right. Do you?' + </p> + <p> + 'I've only seen it work. Mr. Beeton.' + </p> + <p> + 'He's gone. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm afraid I must ask you to help me home, then. I'll make it worth your + while. You see.' The sightless eyes turned towards her and Bessie saw. + </p> + <p> + 'It isn't taking you out of your way?' he said hesitatingly. 'I can ask a + policeman if it is.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not at all. I come on at seven and I'm off at four. That's easy hours.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good God!—but I'm on all the time. I wish I had some work to do + too. + </p> + <p> + Let's go home, Bess.' + </p> + <p> + He turned and cannoned into a man on the sidewalk, recoiling with an oath. + Bessie took his arm and said nothing—as she had said nothing when he + had ordered her to turn her face a little more to the light. They walked + for some time in silence, the girl steering him deftly through the crowd. + </p> + <p> + 'And where's—where's Mr. Torpenhow?' she inquired at last. + </p> + <p> + 'He has gone away to the desert.' + </p> + <p> + 'Where's that?' + </p> + <p> + Dick pointed to the right. 'East—out of the mouth of the river,' + said he. + </p> + <p> + 'Then west, then south, and then east again, all along the under-side of + Europe. Then south again, God knows how far.' The explanation did not + enlighten Bessie in the least, but she held her tongue and looked to + Dick's patch till they came to the chambers. + </p> + <p> + 'We'll have tea and muffins,' he said joyously. 'I can't tell you, Bessie, + how glad I am to find you again. What made you go away so suddenly?' + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't think you'd want me any more,' she said, emboldened by his + ignorance. + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't, as a matter of fact—but afterwards—At any rate I'm + glad you've come. You know the stairs.' + </p> + <p> + So Bessie led him home to his own place—there was no one to hinder—and + shut the door of the studio. + </p> + <p> + 'What a mess!' was her first word. 'All these things haven't been looked + after for months and months.' + </p> + <p> + 'No, only weeks, Bess. You can't expect them to care.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know what you expect them to do. They ought to know what you've + paid them for. The dust's just awful. It's all over the easel.' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't use it much now.' + </p> + <p> + 'All over the pictures and the floor, and all over your coat. I'd like to + speak to them housemaids.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ring for tea, then.' Dick felt his way to the one chair he used by + custom. + </p> + <p> + Bessie saw the action and, as far as in her lay, was touched. But there + remained always a keen sense of new-found superiority, and it was in her + voice when she spoke. + </p> + <p> + 'How long have you been like this?' she said wrathfully, as though the + blindness were some fault of the housemaids. + </p> + <p> + 'How?' + </p> + <p> + 'As you are.' + </p> + <p> + 'The day after you went away with the check, almost as soon as my picture + was finished; I hardly saw her alive.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then they've been cheating you ever since, that's all. I know their nice + little ways.' + </p> + <p> + A woman may love one man and despise another, but on general feminine + principles she will do her best to save the man she despises from being + defrauded. Her loved one can look to himself, but the other man, being + obviously an idiot, needs protection. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't think Mr. Beeton cheats much,' said Dick. Bessie was flouncing up + and down the room, and he was conscious of a keen sense of enjoyment as he + heard the swish of her skirts and the light step between. + </p> + <p> + 'Tea and muffins,' she said shortly, when the ring at the bell was + answered; 'two teaspoonfuls and one over for the pot. I don't want the old + teapot that was here when I used to come. It don't draw. Get another.' + </p> + <p> + The housemaid went away scandalised, and Dick chuckled. Then he began to + cough as Bessie banged up and down the studio disturbing the dust. + </p> + <p> + 'What are you trying to do?' + </p> + <p> + 'Put things straight. This is like unfurnished lodgings. How could you let + it go so?' + </p> + <p> + 'How could I help it? Dust away.' + </p> + <p> + She dusted furiously, and in the midst of all the pother entered Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Beeton. Her husband on his return had explained the situation, winding up + with the peculiarly felicitous proverb, 'Do unto others as you would be + done by.' She had descended to put into her place the person who demanded + muffins and an uncracked teapot as though she had a right to both. + </p> + <p> + 'Muffins ready yet?' said Bess, still dusting. She was no longer a drab of + the streets but a young lady who, thanks to Dick's check, had paid her + premium and was entitled to pull beer-handles with the best. Being neatly + dressed in black she did not hesitate to face Mrs. Beeton, and there + passed between the two women certain regards that Dick would have + appreciated. The situation adjusted itself by eye. Bessie had won, and + Mrs. Beeton returned to cook muffins and make scathing remarks about + models, hussies, trollops, and the like, to her husband. + </p> + <p> + 'There's nothing to be got of interfering with him, Liza,' he said. 'Alf, + you go along into the street to play. When he isn't crossed he's as kindly + as kind, but when he's crossed he's the devil and all. We took too many + little things out of his rooms since he was blind to be that particular + about what he does. They ain't no objects to a blind man, of course, but + if it was to come into court we'd get the sack. Yes, I did introduce him + to that girl because I'm a feelin' man myself.' + </p> + <p> + 'Much too feelin'!' Mrs. Beeton slapped the muffins into the dish, and + thought of comely housemaids long since dismissed on suspicion. + </p> + <p> + 'I ain't ashamed of it, and it isn't for us to judge him hard so long as + he pays quiet and regular as he do. I know how to manage young gentlemen, + you know how to cook for them, and what I says is, let each stick to his + own business and then there won't be any trouble. Take them muffins down, + Liza, and be sure you have no words with that young woman. His lot is + cruel hard, and if he's crossed he do swear worse than any one I've ever + served.' + </p> + <p> + 'That's a little better,' said Bessie, sitting down to the tea. 'You + needn't wait, thank you, Mrs. Beeton.' + </p> + <p> + 'I had no intention of doing such, I do assure you.' + </p> + <p> + Bessie made no answer whatever. This, she knew, was the way in which real + ladies routed their foes, and when one is a barmaid at a first-class + public-house one may become a real lady at ten minutes' notice. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes fell on Dick opposite her and she was both shocked and + displeased. There were droppings of food all down the front of his coat; + the mouth under the ragged ill-grown beard drooped sullenly; the forehead + was lined and contracted; and on the lean temples the hair was a dusty + indeterminate colour that might or might not have been called gray. The + utter misery and self-abandonment of the man appealed to her, and at the + bottom of her heart lay the wicked feeling that he was humbled and brought + low who had once humbled her. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh! it is good to hear you moving about,' said Dick, rubbing his hands. + </p> + <p> + 'Tell us all about your bar successes, Bessie, and the way you live now.' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind that. I'm quite respectable, as you'd see by looking at me. + </p> + <p> + You don't seem to live too well. What made you go blind that sudden? Why + isn't there any one to look after you?' + </p> + <p> + Dick was too thankful for the sound of her voice to resent the tone of it. + </p> + <p> + 'I was cut across the head a long time ago, and that ruined my eyes. I + don't suppose anybody thinks it worth while to look after me any more. + </p> + <p> + Why should they?—and Mr. Beeton really does everything I want.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you know any gentlemen and ladies, then, while you was—well?' + </p> + <p> + 'A few, but I don't care to have them looking at me.' + </p> + <p> + 'I suppose that's why you've growed a beard. Take it off, it don't become + you.' + </p> + <p> + 'Good gracious, child, do you imagine that I think of what becomes of me + these days?' + </p> + <p> + 'You ought. Get that taken off before I come here again. I suppose I can + come, can't I?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'd be only too grateful if you did. I don't think I treated you very + well in the old days. I used to make you angry.' + </p> + <p> + 'Very angry, you did.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm sorry for it, then. Come and see me when you can and as often as you + can. God knows, there isn't a soul in the world to take that trouble + except you and Mr. Beeton.' + </p> + <p> + 'A lot of trouble he's taking and she too.' This with a toss of the head. + </p> + <p> + 'They've let you do anyhow and they haven't done anything for you. I've + only to look and see that much. I'll come, and I'll be glad to come, but + you must go and be shaved, and you must get some other clothes—those + ones aren't fit to be seen.' + </p> + <p> + 'I have heaps somewhere,' he said helplessly. + </p> + <p> + 'I know you have. Tell Mr. Beeton to give you a new suit and I'll brush it + and keep it clean. You may be as blind as a barn-door, Mr. Heldar, but it + doesn't excuse you looking like a sweep.' + </p> + <p> + 'Do I look like a sweep, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, I'm sorry for you. I'm that sorry for you!' she cried impulsively, + and took Dick's hands. Mechanically, he lowered his head as if to kiss—she + was the only woman who had taken pity on him, and he was not too proud for + a little pity now. She stood up to go. + </p> + <p> + 'Nothing o' that kind till you look more like a gentleman. It's quite easy + when you get shaved, and some clothes.' + </p> + <p> + He could hear her drawing on her gloves and rose to say good-bye. She + passed behind him, kissed him audaciously on the back of the neck, and ran + away as swiftly as on the day when she had destroyed the Melancolia. + </p> + <p> + 'To think of me kissing Mr. Heldar,' she said to herself, 'after all he's + done to me and all! Well, I'm sorry for him, and if he was shaved he + wouldn't be so bad to look at, but... Oh them Beetons, how shameful + they've treated him! I know Beeton's wearing his shirt on his back to-day + just as well as if I'd aired it. To-morrow, I'll see... I wonder if he has + much of his own. It might be worth more than the bar—I wouldn't have + to do any work—and just as respectable as if no one knew.' + </p> + <p> + Dick was not grateful to Bessie for her parting gift. He was acutely + conscious of it in the nape of his neck throughout the night, but it + seemed, among very many other things, to enforce the wisdom of getting + shaved. + </p> + <p> + He was shaved accordingly in the morning, and felt the better for it. A + fresh suit of clothes, white linen, and the knowledge that some one in the + world said that she took an interest in his personal appearance made him + carry himself almost upright; for the brain was relieved for a while from + thinking of Maisie, who, under other circumstances, might have given that + kiss and a million others. + </p> + <p> + 'Let us consider,' said he, after lunch. 'The girl can't care, and it's a + toss-up whether she comes again or not, but if money can buy her to look + after me she shall be bought. Nobody else in the world would take the + trouble, and I can make it worth her while. She's a child of the gutter + holding brevet rank as a barmaid; so she shall have everything she wants + if she'll only come and talk and look after me.' He rubbed his newly shorn + chin and began to perplex himself with the thought of her not coming. 'I + suppose I did look rather a sweep,' he went on. 'I had no reason to look + otherwise. I knew things dropped on my clothes, but it didn't matter. It + would be cruel if she didn't come. She must. Maisie came once, and that + was enough for her. She was quite right. She had something to work for. + This creature has only beer-handles to pull, unless she has deluded some + young man into keeping company with her. + </p> + <p> + Fancy being cheated for the sake of a counter-jumper! We're falling pretty + low.' + </p> + <p> + Something cried aloud within him:—This will hurt more than anything + that has gone before. It will recall and remind and suggest and tantalise, + and in the end drive you mad. + </p> + <p> + 'I know it, I know it!' Dick cried, clenching his hands despairingly; + 'but, good heavens! is a poor blind beggar never to get anything out of + his life except three meals a day and a greasy waistcoat? I wish she'd + come.' + </p> + <p> + Early in the afternoon time she came, because there was no young man in + her life just then, and she thought of material advantages which would + allow her to be idle for the rest of her days. + </p> + <p> + 'I shouldn't have known you,' she said approvingly. 'You look as you used + to look—a gentleman that was proud of himself.' + </p> + <p> + 'Don't you think I deserve another kiss, then?' said Dick, flushing a + little. + </p> + <p> + 'Maybe—but you won't get it yet. Sit down and let's see what I can + do for you. I'm certain sure Mr. Beeton cheats you, now that you can't go + through the housekeeping books every month. Isn't that true?' + </p> + <p> + 'You'd better come and housekeep for me then, Bessie.' + </p> + <p> + 'Couldn't do it in these chambers—you know that as well as I do.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know, but we might go somewhere else, if you thought it worth your + while.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'd try to look after you, anyhow; but I shouldn't care to have to work + for both of us.' This was tentative. + </p> + <p> + Dick laughed. + </p> + <p> + 'Do you remember where I used to keep my bank-book?' said he. 'Torp took + it to be balanced just before he went away. Look and see.' + </p> + <p> + 'It was generally under the tobacco-jar. Ah!' + </p> + <p> + 'Well?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh! Four thousand two hundred and ten pounds nine shillings and a penny! + Oh my!' + </p> + <p> + 'You can have the penny. That's not bad for one year's work. Is that and a + hundred and twenty pounds a year good enough?' + </p> + <p> + The idleness and the pretty clothes were almost within her reach now, but + she must, by being housewifely, show that she deserved them. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; but you'd have to move, and if we took an inventory, I think we'd + find that Mr. Beeton has been prigging little things out of the rooms here + and there. They don't look as full as they used.' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind, we'll let him have them. The only thing I'm particularly + anxious to take away is that picture I used you for—when you used to + swear at me. We'll pull out of this place, Bess, and get away as far as + ever we can.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh yes,' she said uneasily. + </p> + <p> + 'I don't know where I can go to get away from myself, but I'll try, and + you shall have all the pretty frocks that you care for. You'll like that. + </p> + <p> + Give me that kiss now, Bess. Ye gods! it's good to put one's arm round a + woman's waist again.' + </p> + <p> + Then came the fulfilment of the prophecy within the brain. If his arm were + thus round Maisie's waist and a kiss had just been given and taken between + them,—why then... He pressed the girl more closely to himself + because the pain whipped him. She was wondering how to explain a little + accident to the Melancolia. At any rate, if this man really desired the + solace of her company—and certainly he would relapse into his + original slough if she withdrew it—he would not be more than just a + little vexed. + </p> + <p> + It would be delightful at least to see what would happen, and by her + teachings it was good for a man to stand in certain awe of his companion. + </p> + <p> + She laughed nervously, and slipped out of his reach. + </p> + <p> + 'I shouldn't worrit about that picture if I was you,' she began, in the + hope of turning his attention. + </p> + <p> + 'It's at the back of all my canvases somewhere. Find it, Bess; you know it + as well as I do.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know—but—' + </p> + <p> + 'But what? You've wit enough to manage the sale of it to a dealer. + </p> + <p> + Women haggle much better than men. It might be a matter of eight or nine + hundred pounds to—to us. I simply didn't like to think about it for + a long time. It was mixed up with my life so.—But we'll cover up our + tracks and get rid of everything, eh? Make a fresh start from the + beginning, Bess.' + </p> + <p> + Then she began to repent very much indeed, because she knew the value of + money. Still, it was probable that the blind man was overestimating the + value of his work. Gentlemen, she knew, were absurdly particular about + their things. She giggled as a nervous housemaid giggles when she tries to + explain the breakage of a pipe. + </p> + <p> + 'I'm very sorry, but you remember I was—I was angry with you before + Mr. Torpenhow went away?' + </p> + <p> + 'You were very angry, child; and on my word I think you had some right to + be.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then I—but aren't you sure Mr. Torpenhow didn't tell you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Tell me what? Good gracious, what are you making such a fuss about when + you might just as well be giving me another kiss?' + </p> + <p> + He was beginning to learn, not for the first time in his experience, that + kissing is a cumulative poison. The more you get of it, the more you want. + </p> + <p> + Bessie gave the kiss promptly, whispering, as she did so, 'I was so angry + I rubbed out that picture with the turpentine. You aren't angry, are you?' + </p> + <p> + 'What? Say that again.' The man's hand had closed on her wrist. + </p> + <p> + 'I rubbed it out with turps and the knife,' faltered Bessie. 'I thought + you'd only have to do it over again. You did do it over again, didn't you? + Oh, let go of my wrist; you're hurting me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Isn't there anything left of the thing?' + </p> + <p> + 'N'nothing that looks like anything. I'm sorry—I didn't know you'd + take on about it; I only meant to do it in fun. You aren't going to hit + me?' + </p> + <p> + 'Hit you! No! Let's think.' + </p> + <p> + He did not relax his hold upon her wrist but stood staring at the carpet. + </p> + <p> + Then he shook his head as a young steer shakes it when the lash of the + stock-whip cross his nose warns him back to the path on to the shambles + that he would escape. For weeks he had forced himself not to think of the + Melancolia, because she was a part of his dead life. With Bessie's return + and certain new prospects that had developed themselves, the Melancolia—lovelier + in his imagination than she had ever been on canvas—reappeared. By + her aid he might have procured mor money wherewith to amuse Bess and to + forget Maisie, as well as another taste of an almost forgotten success. + Now, thanks to a vicious little housemaid's folly, there was nothing to + look for—not even the hope that he might some day take an abiding + interest in the housemaid. Worst of all, he had been made to appear + ridiculous in Maisie's eyes. A woman will forgive the man who has ruined + her life's work so long as he gives her love; a man may forgive those who + ruin the love of his life, but he will never forgive the destruction of + his work. + </p> + <p> + 'Tck—tck—tck,' said Dick between his teeth, and then laughed + softly. 'It's an omen, Bessie, and—a good many things considered, it + serves me right for doing what I have done. By Jove! that accounts for + Maisie's running away. She must have thought me perfectly mad—small + blame to her! The whole picture ruined, isn't it so? What made you do it?' + </p> + <p> + 'Because I was that angry. I'm not angry now—I'm awful sorry.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wonder.—It doesn't matter, anyhow. I'm to blame for making the + mistake.' + </p> + <p> + 'What mistake?' + </p> + <p> + 'Something you wouldn't understand, dear. Great heavens! to think that a + little piece of dirt like you could throw me out of stride!' Dick was + talking to himself as Bessie tried to shake off his grip on her wrist. + </p> + <p> + 'I ain't a piece of dirt, and you shouldn't call me so! I did it 'cause I + hated you, and I'm only sorry now 'cause you're—'cause you're——' + </p> + <p> + 'Exactly—because I'm blind. There's noting like tact in little + things.' + </p> + <p> + Bessie began to sob. She did not like being shackled against her will; she + was afraid of the blind face and the look upon it, and was sorry too that + her great revenge had only made Dick laugh. + </p> + <p> + 'Don't cry,' he said, and took her into his arms. 'You only did what you + thought right.' + </p> + <p> + 'I—I ain't a little piece of dirt, and if you say that I'll never + come to you again.' + </p> + <p> + 'You don't know what you've done to me. I'm not angry—indeed, I'm + not. + </p> + <p> + Be quiet for a minute.' + </p> + <p> + Bessie remained in his arms shrinking. Dick's first thought was connected + with Maisie, and it hurt him as white-hot iron hurts an open sore. + </p> + <p> + Not for nothing is a man permitted to ally himself to the wrong woman. + </p> + <p> + The first pang—the first sense of things lost is but the prelude to + the play, for the very just Providence who delights in causing pain has + decreed that the agony shall return, and that in the midst of keenest + pleasure. + </p> + <p> + They know this pain equally who have forsaken or been forsaken by the love + of their life, and in their new wives' arms are compelled to realise it. + </p> + <p> + It is better to remain alone and suffer only the misery of being alone, so + long as it is possible to find distraction in daily work. When that + resource goes the man is to be pitied and left alone. + </p> + <p> + These things and some others Dick considered while he was holding Bessie + to his heart. + </p> + <p> + 'Though you mayn't know it,' he said, raising his head, 'the Lord is a + just and a terrible God, Bess; with a very strong sense of humour. It + serves me right—how it serves me right! Torp could understand it if + he were here; he must have suffered something at your hands, child, but + only for a minute or so. I saved him. Set that to my credit, some one.' + </p> + <p> + 'Let me go,' said Bess, her face darkening. 'Let me go.' + </p> + <p> + 'All in good time. Did you ever attend Sunday school?' + </p> + <p> + 'Never. Let me go, I tell you; you're making fun of me.' + </p> + <p> + 'Indeed, I'm not. I'm making fun of myself.... Thus. "He saved others, + himself he cannot save." It isn't exactly a school-board text.' He + released her wrist, but since he was between her and the door, she could + not escape. 'What an enormous amount of mischief one little woman can do!' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm sorry; I'm awful sorry about the picture.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm not. I'm grateful to you for spoiling it.... What were we talking + about before you mentioned the thing?' + </p> + <p> + 'About getting away—and money. Me and you going away.' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course. We will get away—that is to say, I will.' + </p> + <p> + 'And me?' + </p> + <p> + 'You shall have fifty whole pounds for spoiling a picture.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then you won't——?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm afraid not, dear. Think of fifty pounds for pretty things all to + yourself.' + </p> + <p> + 'You said you couldn't do anything without me.' + </p> + <p> + 'That was true a little while ago. I'm better now, thank you. Get me my + hat.' + </p> + <p> + 'S'pose I don't?' + </p> + <p> + 'Beeton will, and you'll lose fifty pounds. That's all. Get it.' + </p> + <p> + Bessie cursed under her breath. She had pitied the man sincerely, had + kissed him with almost equal sincerity, for he was not unhandsome; it + pleased her to be in a way and for a time his protector, and above all + there were four thousand pounds to be handled by some one. Now through a + slip of the tongue and a little feminine desire to give a little, not too + much, pain she had lost the money, the blessed idleness and the pretty + things, the companionship, and the chance of looking outwardly as + respectable as a real lady. + </p> + <p> + 'Now fill me a pipe. Tobacco doesn't taste, but it doesn't matter, and + I'll think things out. What's the day of the week, Bess?' + </p> + <p> + 'Tuesday.' + </p> + <p> + 'Then Thursday's mail-day. What a fool—what a blind fool I have + been! + </p> + <p> + Twenty-two pounds covers my passage home again. Allow ten for additional + expenses. We must put up at Madam Binat's for old time's sake. Thirty-two + pounds altogether. Add a hundred for the cost of the last trip—Gad, + won't Torp stare to see me!—a hundred and thirty-two leaves + seventy-eight for baksheesh—I shall need it—and to play with. + </p> + <p> + What are you crying for, Bess? It wasn't your fault, child; it was mine + altogether. Oh, you funny little opossum, mop your eyes and take me out! + </p> + <p> + I want the pass-book and the check-book. Stop a minute. Four thousand + pounds at four per cent—that's safe interest—means a hundred + and sixty pounds a year; one hundred and twenty pounds a hear—also + safe—is two eighty, and two hundred and eighty pounds added to three + hundred a year means gilded luxury for a single woman. Bess, we'll go to + the bank.' + </p> + <p> + Richer by two hundred and ten pounds stored in his money-belt, Dick caused + Bessie, now thoroughly bewildered, to hurry from the bank to the P. and O. + offices, where he explained things tersely. + </p> + <p> + 'Port Said, single first; cabin as close to the baggage-hatch as possible. + </p> + <p> + What ship's going?' + </p> + <p> + 'The Colgong,' said the clerk. + </p> + <p> + 'She's a wet little hooker. Is it Tilbury and a tender, or Galleons and + the docks?' + </p> + <p> + 'Galleons. Twelve-forty, Thursday.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thanks. Change, please. I can't see very well—will you count it + into my hand?' + </p> + <p> + 'If they all took their passages like that instead of talking about their + trunks, life would be worth something,' said the clerk to his neighbour, + who was trying to explain to a harassed mother of many that condensed milk + is just as good for babes at sea as daily dairy. Being nineteen and + unmarried, he spoke with conviction. + </p> + <p> + 'We are now,' quoth Dick, as they returned to the studio, patting the + place where his money-belt covered ticket and money, 'beyond the reach of + man, or devil, or woman—which is much more important. I've had three + little affairs to carry through before Thursday, but I needn't ask you to + help, Bess. Come here on Thursday morning at nine. We'll breakfast, and + you shall take me down to Galleons Station.' + </p> + <p> + 'What are you going to do?' + </p> + <p> + 'Going away, of course. What should I stay for?' + </p> + <p> + 'But you can't look after yourself?' + </p> + <p> + 'I can do anything. I didn't realise it before, but I can. I've done a + great deal already. Resolution shall be treated to one kiss if Bessie + doesn't object.' Strangely enough, Bessie objected and Dick laughed. 'I + suppose you're right. Well, come at nine the day after to-morrow and + you'll get your money.' + </p> + <p> + 'Shall I sure?' + </p> + <p> + 'I don't bilk, and you won't know whether I do or not unless you come. + </p> + <p> + Oh, but it's long and long to wait! Good-bye, Bessie,—send Beeton + here as you go out.' + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper came. + </p> + <p> + 'What are all the fittings of my rooms worth?' said Dick, imperiously. + </p> + <p> + ''Tisn't for me to say, sir. Some things is very pretty and some is wore + out dreadful.' + </p> + <p> + 'I'm insured for two hundred and seventy.' + </p> + <p> + 'Insurance policies is no criterion, though I don't say——' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, damn your longwindedness! You've made your pickings out of me and the + other tenants. Why, you talked of retiring and buying a public-house the + other day. Give a straight answer to a straight question.' + </p> + <p> + 'Fifty,' said Mr. Beeton, without a moment's hesitation. + </p> + <p> + 'Double it; or I'll break up half my sticks and burn the rest.' + </p> + <p> + He felt his way to a bookstand that supported a pile of sketch-books, and + wrenched out one of the mahogany pillars. + </p> + <p> + 'That's sinful, sir,' said the housekeeper, alarmed. + </p> + <p> + 'It's my own. One hundred or——' + </p> + <p> + 'One hundred it is. It'll cost me three and six to get that there pilaster + mended.' + </p> + <p> + 'I thought so. What an out and out swindler you must have been to spring + that price at once!' + </p> + <p> + 'I hope I've done nothing to dissatisfy any of the tenants, least of all + you, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'Never mind that. Get me the money to-morrow, and see that all my clothes + are packed in the little brown bullock-trunk. I'm going.' + </p> + <p> + 'But the quarter's notice?' + </p> + <p> + 'I'll pay forfeit. Look after the packing and leave me alone.' + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beeton discussed this new departure with his wife, who decided that + Bessie was at the bottom of it all. Her husband took a more charitable + view. + </p> + <p> + 'It's very sudden—but then he was always sudden in his ways. Listen + to him now!' + </p> + <p> + There was a sound of chanting from Dick's room. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'We'll never come back any more, boys, + We'll never come back no more; + We'll go to the deuce on any excuse, + And never come back no more! + + Oh say we're afloat or ashore, boys, + Oh say we're afloat or ashore; + But we'll never come back any more, boys, + We'll never come back no more!' +</pre> + <p> + 'Mr. Beeton! Mr. Beeton! Where the deuce is my pistol?' + </p> + <p> + 'Quick, he's going to shoot himself—'avin' gone mad!' said Mrs. + Beeton. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Beeton addressed Dick soothingly, but it was some time before the + latter, threshing up and down his bedroom, could realise the intention of + the promises to 'find everything to-morrow, sir.' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, you copper-nosed old fool—you impotent Academician!' he shouted + at last. 'Do you suppose I want to shoot myself? Take the pistol in your + silly shaking hand then. If you touch it, it will go off, because it's + loaded. + </p> + <p> + It's among my campaign-kit somewhere—in the parcel at the bottom of + the trunk.' + </p> + <p> + Long ago Dick had carefully possessed himself of a forty-pound weight + field-equipment constructed by the knowledge of his own experience. It was + this put-away treasure that he was trying to find and rehandle. Mr. + </p> + <p> + Beeton whipped the revolver out of its place on the top of the package, + and Dick drove his hand among the khaki coat and breeches, the blue cloth + leg-bands, and the heavy flannel shirts doubled over a pair of swan-neck + spurs. Under these and the water-bottle lay a sketch-book and a pigskin + case of stationery. + </p> + <p> + 'These we don't want; you can have them, Mr. Beeton. Everything else I'll + keep. Pack 'em on the top right-hand side of my trunk. When you've done + that come into the studio with your wife. I want you both. Wait a minute; + get me a pen and a sheet of notepaper.' + </p> + <p> + It is not an easy thing to write when you cannot see, and Dick had + particular reasons for wishing that his work should be clear. So he began, + following his right hand with his left: '"The badness of this writing is + because I am blind and cannot see my pen." H'mph!—even a lawyer + can't mistake that. It must be signed, I suppose, but it needn't be + witnessed. Now an inch lower—why did I never learn to use a + type-writer?—"This is the last will and testament of me, Richard + Heldar. I am in sound bodily and mental health, and there is no previous + will to revoke."—That's all right. Damn the pen! Whereabouts on the + paper was I?—"I leave everything that I possess in the world, + including four thousand pounds, and two thousand seven hundred and twenty + eight pounds held for me"—oh, I can't get this straight.' He tore + off half the sheet and began again with the caution about the handwriting. + Then: 'I leave all the money I possess in the world to'—here + followed Maisie's name, and the names of the two banks that held the + money. + </p> + <p> + 'It mayn't be quite regular, but no one has a shadow of a right to dispute + it, and I've given Maisie's address. Come in, Mr. Beeton. This is my + signature; I want you and your wife to witness it. Thanks. To-morrow you + must take me to the landlord and I'll pay forfeit for leaving without + notice, and I'll lodge this paper with him in case anything happens while + I'm away. Now we're going to light up the studio stove. Stay with me, and + give me my papers as I want 'em.' + </p> + <p> + No one knows until he has tried how fine a blaze a year's accumulation of + bills, letters, and dockets can make. Dick stuffed into the stove every + document in the studio—saving only three unopened letters; destroyed + sketch-books, rough note-books, new and half-finished canvases alike. + </p> + <p> + 'What a lot of rubbish a tenant gets about him if he stays long enough in + one place, to be sure,' said Mr. Beeton, at last. + </p> + <p> + 'He does. Is there anything more left?' Dick felt round the walls. + </p> + <p> + 'Not a thing, and the stove's nigh red-hot.' + </p> + <p> + 'Excellent, and you've lost about a thousand pounds' worth of sketches. + </p> + <p> + Ho! ho! Quite a thousand pounds' worth, if I can remember what I used to + be.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes, sir,' politely. Mr. Beeton was quite sure that Dick had gone mad, + otherwise he would have never parted with his excellent furniture for a + song. The canvas things took up storage room and were much better out of + the way. + </p> + <p> + There remained only to leave the little will in safe hands: that could not + be accomplished to to-morrow. Dick groped about the floor picking up the + last pieces of paper, assured himself again and again that there remained + no written word or sign of his past life in drawer or desk, and sat down + before the stove till the fire died out and the contracting iron cracked + in the silence of the night. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + With a heart of furious fancies, + Whereof I am commander; + With a burning spear and a horse of air, + To the wilderness I wander. + + With a knight of ghosts and shadows + I summoned am to tourney— + Ten leagues beyond the wide world's end, + Methinks it is no journey. + + —Tom a' Bedlam's Song. +</pre> + <p> + 'GOOD-BYE, Bess; I promised you fifty. Here's a hundred—all that I + got for my furniture from Beeton. That will keep you in pretty frocks for + some time. You've been a good little girl, all things considered, but + you've given me and Torpenhow a fair amount of trouble.' + </p> + <p> + 'Give Mr. Torpenhow my love if you see him, won't you?' + </p> + <p> + 'Of course I will, dear. Now take me up the gang-plank and into the cabin. + Once aboard the lugger and the maid is—and I am free, I mean.' + </p> + <p> + 'Who'll look after you on this ship?' + </p> + <p> + 'The head-steward, if there's any use in money. The doctor when we come to + Port Said, if I know anything of P. and O. doctors. After that, the Lord + will provide, as He used to do.' + </p> + <p> + Bess found Dick his cabin in the wild turmoil of a ship full of + leavetakers and weeping relatives. Then he kissed her, and laid himself + down in his bunk until the decks should be clear. He who had taken so long + to move about his own darkened rooms well understood the geography of a + ship, and the necessity of seeing to his own comforts was as wine to him. + </p> + <p> + Before the screw began to thrash the ship along the Docks he had been + introduced to the head-steward, had royally tipped him, secured a good + place at table, opened out his baggage, and settled himself down with joy + in the cabin. It was scarcely necessary to feel his way as he moved about, + for he knew everything so well. Then God was very kind: a deep sleep of + weariness came upon him just as he would have thought of Maisie, and he + slept till the steamer had cleared the mouth of the Thames and was lifting + to the pulse of the Channel. + </p> + <p> + The rattle of the engines, the reek of oil and paint, and a very familiar + sound in the next cabin roused him to his new inheritance. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, it's good to be alive again!' He yawned, stretched himself + vigorously, and went on deck to be told that they were almost abreast of + the lights of Brighton. This is no more open water than Trafalgal Square + is a common; the free levels begin at Ushant; but none the less Dick could + feel the healing of the sea at work upon him already. A boisterous little + cross-swell swung the steamer disrespectfully by the nose; and one wave + breaking far aft spattered the quarterdeck and the pile of new + deck-chairs. He heard the foam fall with the clash of broken glass, was + stung in the face by a cupful, and sniffing luxuriously, felt his way to + the smoking-room by the wheel. There a strong b reeze found him, blew his + cap off and left him bareheaded in the doorway, and the smoking-room + steward, understanding that he was a voyager of experience, said that the + weather would be stiff in the chops off the Channel and more than half a + gale in the Bay. These things fell as they were foretold, and Dick enjoyed + himself to the utmost. It is allowable and even necessary at sea to lay + firm hold upon tables, stanchions, and ropes in moving from place to + place. On land the man who feels with his hands is patently blind. At sea + even a blind man who is not sea-sick can jest with the doctor over the + weakness of his fellows. Dick told the doctor many tales—and these + are coin of more value than silver if properly handled—smoked with + him till unholy hours of the night, and so won his short-lived regard that + he promised Dick a few hours of his time when they came to Port Said. + </p> + <p> + And the sea roared or was still as the winds blew, and the engines sang + their song day and night, and the sun grew stronger day by day, and Tom + the Lascar barber shaved Dick of a morning under the opened hatch-grating + where the cool winds blew, and the awnings were spread and the passengers + made merry, and at last they came to Port Said. + </p> + <p> + 'Take me,' said Dick, to the doctor, 'to Madame Binat's—if you know + where that is.' + </p> + <p> + 'Whew!' said the doctor, 'I do. There's not much to choose between 'em; + but I suppose you're aware that that's one of the worst houses in the + place. They'll rob you to begin with, and knife you later.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not they. Take me there, and I can look after myself.' + </p> + <p> + So he was brought to Madame Binat's and filled his nostrils with the + well-remembered smell of the East, that runs without a change from the + Canal head to Hong-Kong, and his mouth with the villainous Lingua Franca + of the Levant. The heat smote him between the shoulder-blades with the + buffet of an old friend, his feet slipped on the sand, and his coat-sleeve + was warm as new-baked bread when he lifted it to his nose. + </p> + <p> + Madame Binat smiled with the smile that knows no astonishment when Dick + entered the drinking-shop which was one source of her gains. But for a + little accident of complete darkness he could hardly realise that he had + ever quitted the old life that hummed in his ears. Somebody opened a + bottle of peculiarly strong Schiedam. The smell reminded Dick of Monsieur + Binat, who, by the way, had spoken of art and degradation. + </p> + <p> + Binat was dead; Madame said as much when the doctor departed, scandalised, + so far as a ship's doctor can be, at the warmth of Dick's reception. Dick + was delighted at it. 'They remember me here after a year. They have + forgotten me across the water by this time. Madame, I want a long talk + with you when you're at liberty. It is good to be back again.' + </p> + <p> + In the evening she set an iron-topped cafe-table out on the sands, and + Dick and she sat by it, while the house behind them filled with riot, + merriment, oaths, and threats. The stars came out and the lights of the + shipping in the harbour twinkled by the head of the Canal. + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. The war is good for trade, my friend; but what dost thou do here? We + have not forgotten thee.' + </p> + <p> + 'I was over there in England and I went blind.' + </p> + <p> + 'But there was the glory first. We heard of it here, even here—I and + Binat; and thou hast used the head of Yellow 'Tina—she is still + alive—so often and so well that 'Tina laughed when the papers + arrived by the mail-boats. It was always something that we here could + recognise in the paintings. And then there was always the glory and the + money for thee.' + </p> + <p> + 'I am not poor—I shall pay you well.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not to me. Thou hast paid for everything.' Under her breath, 'Mon Dieu, + to be blind and so young! What horror!' + </p> + <p> + Dick could not see her face with the pity on it, or his own with the + discoloured hair at the temples. He did not feel the need of pity; he was + too anxious to get to the front once more, and explained his desire. + </p> + <p> + 'And where? The Canal is full of the English ships. Sometimes they fire as + they used to do when the war was here—ten years ago. Beyond Cairo + there is fighting, but how canst thou go there without a correspondent's + passport? And in the desert there is always fighting, but that is + impossible also,' said she. + </p> + <p> + 'I must go to Suakin.' He knew, thanks to Alf's readings, that Torpenhow + was at work with the column that was protecting the construction of the + Suakin-Berber line. P. and O. steamers do not touch at that port, and, + besides, Madame Binat knew everybody whose help or advice was worth + anything. They were not respectable folk, but they could cause things to + be accomplished, which is much more important when there is work toward. + </p> + <p> + 'But at Suakin they are always fighting. That desert breeds men always—and + always more men. And they are so bold! Why to Suakin?' + </p> + <p> + 'My friend is there. + </p> + <p> + 'Thy friend! Chtt! Thy friend is death, then.' + </p> + <p> + Madame Binat dropped a fat arm on the table-top, filled Dick's glass anew, + and looked at him closely under the stars. There was no need that he + should bow his head in assent and say—'No. He is a man, but—if + it should arrive... blamest thou?' + </p> + <p> + 'I blame?' she laughed shrilly. 'Who am I that I should blame any one—except + those who try to cheat me over their consommations. But it is very + terrible.' + </p> + <p> + 'I must go to Suakin. Think for me. A great deal has changed within the + year, and the men I knew are not here. The Egyptian lighthouse steamer + goes down the Canal to Suakin—and the post-boats—But even then——' + </p> + <p> + 'Do not think any longer. I know, and it is for me to think. Thou shalt go—thou + shalt go and see thy friend. Be wise. Sit here until the house is a little + quiet—I must attend to my guests—and afterwards go to bed. + Thou shalt go, in truth, thou shalt go.' + </p> + <p> + 'To-morrow?' + </p> + <p> + 'As soon as may be.' She was talking as though he were a child. + </p> + <p> + He sat at the table listening to the voices in the harbour and the + streets, and wondering how soon the end would come, till Madame Binat + carried him off to bed and ordered him to sleep. The house shouted and + sang and danced and revelled, Madame Binat moving through it with one eye + on the liquor payments and the girls and the other on Dick's interests. To + this latter end she smiled upon scowling and furtive Turkish officers of + fellaheen regiments, and more than kind to camel agents of no nationality + whatever. + </p> + <p> + In the early morning, being then appropriately dressed in a flaming red + silk ball-dress, with a front of tarnished gold embroidery and a necklace + of plate-glass diamonds, she made chocolate and carried it in to Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'It is only I, and I am of discreet age, eh? Drink and eat the roll too. + Thus in France mothers bring their sons, when those behave wisely, the + morning chocolate.' She sat down on the side of the bed whispering:—'It + is all arranged. Thou wilt go by the lighthouse boat. That is a bribe of + ten pounds English. The captain is never paid by the Government. The boat + comes to Suakin in four days. There will go with thee George, a Greek + muleteer. Another bribe of ten pounds. I will pay; they must not know of + thy money. George will go with thee as far as he goes with his mules. Then + he comes back to me, for his well-beloved is here, and if I do not receive + a telegram from Suakin saying that thou art well, the girl answers for + George.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thank you.' He reached out sleepily for the cup. 'You are much too kind, + Madame.' + </p> + <p> + 'If there were anything that I might do I would say, stay here and be + wise; but I do not think that would be best for thee.' She looked at her + liquor-stained dress with a sad smile. 'Nay, thou shalt go, in truth, thou + shalt go. It is best so. My boy, it is best so.' + </p> + <p> + She stooped and kissed Dick between the eyes. 'That is for good-morning,' + she said, going away. 'When thou art dressed we will speak to George and + make everything ready. But first we must open the little trunk. Give me + the keys.' + </p> + <p> + 'The amount of kissing lately has been simply scandalous. I shall expect + Torp to kiss me next. He is more likely to swear at me for getting in his + way, though. Well, it won't last long.—Ohe, Madame, help me to my + toilette of the guillotine! There will be no chance of dressing properly + out yonder.' + </p> + <p> + He was rummaging among his new campaign-kit, and rowelling his hands with + the spurs. There are two says of wearing well-oiled ankle-jacks, spotless + blue bands, khaki coat and breeches, and a perfectly pipeclayed helmet. + The right way is the way of the untired man, master of himself, setting + out upon an expedition, well pleased. + </p> + <p> + 'Everything must be very correct,' Dick explained. 'It will become dirty + afterwards, but now it is good to feel well dressed. Is everything as it + should be?' + </p> + <p> + He patted the revolver neatly hidden under the fulness of the blouse on + the right hip and fingered his collar. + </p> + <p> + 'I can do no more,' Madame said, between laughing and crying. 'Look at + thyself—but I forgot.' + </p> + <p> + 'I am very content.' He stroked the creaseless spirals of his leggings. + </p> + <p> + 'Now let us go and see the captain and George and the lighthouse boat. + </p> + <p> + Be quick, Madame.' + </p> + <p> + 'But thou canst not be seen by the harbour walking with me in the + daylight. Figure to yourself if some English ladies——' + </p> + <p> + 'There are no English ladies; and if there are, I have forgotten them. + </p> + <p> + Take me there.' + </p> + <p> + In spite of this burning impatience it was nearly evening ere the + lighthouse boat began to move. Madame had said a great deal both to George + and the captain touching the arrangements that were to be made for Dick's + benefit. Very few men who had the honour of her acquaintance cared to + disregard Madame's advice. That sort of contempt might end in being knifed + by a stranger in a gambling hell upon surprisingly short provocation. + </p> + <p> + For six days—two of them were wasted in the crowded Canal—the + little steamer worked her way to Suakin, where she was to pick up the + superintendent of the lighthouse; and Dick made it his business to + propitiate George, who was distracted with fears for the safety of his + light-of-love and half inclined to make Dick responsible for his own + discomfort. When they arrived George took him under his wing, and together + they entered the red-hot seaport, encumbered with the material and wastage + of the Suakin-Berger line, from locomotives in disconsolate fragments to + mounds of chairs and pot-sleepers. + </p> + <p> + 'If you keep with me,' said George, 'nobody will ask for passports or what + you do. They are all very busy.' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes; but I should like to hear some of the Englishmen talk. They might + remember me. I was known here a long time ago—when I was some one + indeed.' + </p> + <p> + 'A long time ago is a very long time ago here. The graveyards are full. + </p> + <p> + Now listen. This new railway runs out so far as Tanai-el-Hassan—that + is seven miles. Then there is a camp. They say that beyond Tanai-el-Hassan + the English troops go forward, and everything that they require will be + brought to them by this line.' + </p> + <p> + 'Ah! Base camp. I see. That's a better business than fighting Fuzzies in + the open.' + </p> + <p> + 'For this reason even the mules to up in the iron-train.' + </p> + <p> + 'Iron what?' + </p> + <p> + 'It is all covered with iron, because it is still being shot at.' + </p> + <p> + 'An armoured train. Better and better! Go on, faithful George.' + </p> + <p> + 'And I go up with my mules to-night. Only those who particularly require + to go to the camp go out with the train. They begin to shoot not far from + the city.' + </p> + <p> + 'The dears—they always used to!' Dick snuffed the smell of parched + dust, heated iron, and flaking paint with delight. Certainly the old life + was welcoming him back most generously. + </p> + <p> + 'When I have got my mules together I go up to-night, but you must first + send a telegram of Port Said, declaring that I have done you no harm.' + </p> + <p> + 'Madame has you well in hand. Would you stick a knife into me if you had + the chance?' + </p> + <p> + 'I have no chance,' said the Greek. 'She is there with that woman.' + </p> + <p> + 'I see. It's a bad thing to be divided between love of woman and the + chance of loot. I sympathise with you, George.' + </p> + <p> + They went to the telegraph-office unquestioned, for all the world was + desperately busy and had scarcely time to turn its head, and Suakin was + the last place under sky that would be chosen for holiday-ground. On their + return the voice of an English subaltern asked Dick what he was doing. The + blue goggles were over his eyes and he walked with his hand on George's + elbow as he replied—'Egyptian Government—mules. My orders are + to give them over to the A. + </p> + <p> + C. G. at Tanai-el-Hassan. Any occasion to show my papers?' + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, certainly not. I beg your pardon. I'd no right to ask, but not seeing + your face before I——' + </p> + <p> + 'I go out in the train to-night, I suppose,' said Dick, boldly. 'There + will be no difficulty in loading up the mules, will there?' + </p> + <p> + 'You can see the horse-platforms from here. You must have them loaded up + early.' The young man went away wondering what sort of broken-down waif + this might be who talked like a gentleman and consorted with Greek + muleteers. Dick felt unhappy. To outface an English officer is no small + thing, but the bluff loses relish when one plays it from the utter dark, + and stumbles up and down rough ways, thinking and eternally thinking of + what might have been if things had fallen out otherwise, and all had been + as it was not. + </p> + <p> + George shared his meal with Dick and went off to the mule-lines. His + charge sat alone in a shed with his face in his hands. Before his + tight-shut eyes danced the face of Maisie, laughing, with parted lips. + There was a great bustle and clamour about him. He grew afraid and almost + called for George. + </p> + <p> + 'I say, have you got your mules ready?' It was the voice of the subaltern + over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + 'My man's looking after them. The—the fact is I've a touch of + ophthalmia and can't see very well. + </p> + <p> + 'By Jove! that's bad. You ought to lie up in hospital for a while. I've + had a turn of it myself. It's as bad as being blind.' + </p> + <p> + 'So I find it. When does this armoured train go?' + </p> + <p> + 'At six o'clock. It takes an hour to cover the seven miles.' + </p> + <p> + 'Are the Fuzzies on the rampage—eh?' + </p> + <p> + 'About three nights a week. Fact is I'm in acting command of the + night-train. It generally runs back empty to Tanai for the night.' + </p> + <p> + 'Big camp at Tanai, I suppose?' + </p> + <p> + 'Pretty big. It has to feed our desert-column somehow.' + </p> + <p> + 'Is that far off?' + </p> + <p> + 'Between thirty and forty miles—in an infernal thirsty country.' + </p> + <p> + 'Is the country quiet between Tanai and our men?' + </p> + <p> + 'More or less. I shouldn't care to cross it alone, or with a subaltern's + command for the matter of that, but the scouts get through it in some + extraordinary fashion.' + </p> + <p> + 'They always did.' + </p> + <p> + 'Have you been here before, then?' + </p> + <p> + 'I was through most of the trouble when it first broke out.' + </p> + <p> + 'In the service and cashiered,' was the subaltern's first thought, so he + refrained from putting any questions. + </p> + <p> + 'There's you man coming up with the mules. It seems rather queer——' + </p> + <p> + 'That I should be mule-leading?' said Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'I didn't mean to say so, but it is. Forgive me—it's beastly + impertinence I know, but you speak like a man who has been at a public + school. There's no mistaking the tone.' + </p> + <p> + 'I am a public school man.' + </p> + <p> + 'I thought so. I say, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you're a + little down on your luck, aren't you? I saw you sitting with your head in + your hands, and that's why I spoke.' + </p> + <p> + 'Thanks. I am about as thoroughly and completely broke as a man need be.' + </p> + <p> + 'Suppose—I mean I'm a public school man myself. Couldn't I perhaps—take + it as a loan y'know and——' + </p> + <p> + 'You're much too good, but on my honour I've as much money as I want. + </p> + <p> + ... I tell you what you could do for me, though, and put me under an + everlasting obligation. Let me come into the bogie truck of the train. + </p> + <p> + There is a fore-truck, isn't there?' + </p> + <p> + 'Yes. How d'you know?' + </p> + <p> + 'I've been in an armoured train before. Only let me see—hear some of + the fun I mean, and I'll be grateful. I go at my own risk as a + non-combatant.' + </p> + <p> + The young man thought for a minute. 'All right,' he said. 'We're supposed + to be an empty train, and there's no one to blow me up at the other end.' + </p> + <p> + George and a horde of yelling amateur assistants had loaded up the mules, + and the narrow-gauge armoured train, plated with three-eighths inch + boiler-plate till it looked like one long coffin, stood ready to start. + </p> + <p> + Two bogie trucks running before the locomotive were completely covered in + with plating, except that the leading one was pierced in front for the + muzzle of a machine-gun, and the second at either side for lateral fire. + </p> + <p> + The trucks together made one long iron-vaulted chamber in which a score of + artillerymen were rioting. + </p> + <p> + 'Whitechapel—last train! Ah, I see yer kissin' in the first class + there!' somebody shouted, just as Dick was clamouring into the forward + truck. + </p> + <p> + 'Lordy! 'Ere's a real live passenger for the Kew, Tanai, Acton, and Ealin' + train. Echo, sir. Speshul edition! Star, sir.'—'Shall I get you a + foot-warmer?' said another. + </p> + <p> + 'Thanks. I'll pay my footing,' said Dick, and relations of the most + amiable were established ere silence came with the arrival of the + subaltern, and the train jolted out over the rough track. + </p> + <p> + 'This is an immense improvement on shooting the unimpressionable Fuzzy in + the open,' said Dick, from his place in the corner. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh, but he's still unimpressed. There he goes!' said the subaltern, as a + bullet struck the outside of the truck. 'We always have at least one + demonstration against the night-train. Generally they attack the + rear-truck, where my junior commands. He gets all the fun of the fair.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not to-night though! Listen!' said Dick. A flight of heavy-handed bullets + was succeeded by yelling and shouts. The children of the desert valued + their nightly amusement, and the train was an excellent mark. + </p> + <p> + 'Is it worth giving them half a hopper full?' the subaltern asked of the + engine, which was driven by a Lieutenant of Sappers. + </p> + <p> + 'I should think so! This is my section of the line. They'll be playing old + Harry with my permanent way if we don't stop 'em.' + </p> + <p> + 'Right O!' + </p> + <p> + 'Hrrmph!' said the machine gun through all its five noses as the subaltern + drew the lever home. The empty cartridges clashed on the floor and the + smoke blew back through the truck. There was indiscriminate firing at the + rear of the train, and return fire from the darkness without and unlimited + howling. Dick stretched himself on the floor, wild with delight at the + sounds and the smells. + </p> + <p> + 'God is very good—I never thought I'd hear this again. Give 'em + hell, men. Oh, give 'em hell!' he cried. + </p> + <p> + The train stopped for some obstruction on the line ahead and a party went + out to reconnoitre, but came back, cursing, for spades. The children of + the desert had piled sand and gravel on the rails, and twenty minutes were + lost in clearing it away. Then the slow progress recommenced, to be varied + with more shots, more shoutings, the steady clack and kick of the machine + guns, and a final difficulty with a half-lifted rail ere the train came + under the protection of the roaring camp at Tanai-el-Hassan. + </p> + <p> + 'Now, you see why it takes an hour and a half to fetch her through,' said + the subaltern, unshipping the cartridge-hopper above his pet gun. + </p> + <p> + 'It was a lark, though. I only wish it had lasted twice as long. How + superb it must have looked from outside!' said Dick, sighing regretfully. + </p> + <p> + 'It palls after the first few nights. By the way, when you've settled + about your mules, come and see what we can find to eat in my tent. I'm + Bennil of the Gunners—in the artillery lines—and mind you + don't fall over my tent-ropes in the dark.' + </p> + <p> + But it was all dark to Dick. He could only smell the camels, the + hay-bales, the cooking, the smoky fires, and the tanned canvas of the + tents as he stood, where he had dropped from the train, shouting for + George. There was a sound of light-hearted kicking on the iron skin of the + rear trucks, with squealing and grunting. George was unloading the mules. + </p> + <p> + The engine was blowing off steam nearly in Dick's ear; a cold wind of the + desert danced between his legs; he was hungry, and felt tired and dirty—so + dirty that he tried to brush his coat with his hands. That was a hopeless + job; he thrust his hands into his pockets and began to count over the many + times that he had waited in strange or remote places for trains or camels, + mules or horses, to carry him to his business. In those days he could see—few + men more clearly—and the spectacle of an armed camp at dinner under + the stare was an ever fresh pleasure to the eye. There was colour, light, + and motion, without which no man has much pleasure in living. This night + there remained for him only one more journey through the darkness that + never lifts to tell a man how far he has travelled. Then he would grip + Torpenhow's hand again—Torpenhow, who was alive and strong, and + lived in the midst of the action that had once made the reputation of a + man called Dick Heldar: not in the least to be confused with the blind, + bewildered vagabond who seemed to answer to the same name. Yes, he would + find Torpenhow, and come as near to the old life as might be. Afterwards + he would forget everything: Bessie, who had wrecked the Melancolia and so + nearly wrecked his life; Beeton, who lived in a strange unreal city full + of tin-tacks and gas-plugs and matters that no men needed; that irrational + being who had offered him love and loyalty for nothing, but had not signed + her name; and most of all Maisie, who, from her own point of view, was + undeniably right in all she did, but oh, at this distance, so + tantalisingly fair. + </p> + <p> + George's hand on his arm pulled him back to the situation. + </p> + <p> + 'And what now?' said George. + </p> + <p> + 'Oh yes of course. What now? Take me to the camel-men. Take me to where + the scouts sit when they come in from the desert. They sit by their + camels, and the camels eat grain out of a black blanket held up at the + corners, and the men eat by their side just like camels. Take me there!' + </p> + <p> + The camp was rough and rutty, and Dick stumbled many times over the stumps + of scrub. The scouts were sitting by their beasts, as Dick knew they + would. The light of the dung-fires flickered on their bearded faces, and + the camels bubbled and mumbled beside them at rest. It was no part of + Dick's policy to go into the desert with a convoy of supplies. That would + lead to impertinent questions, and since a blind non-combatant is not + needed at the front, he would probably be forced to return to Suakin. + </p> + <p> + He must go up alone, and go immediately. + </p> + <p> + 'Now for one last bluff—the biggest of all,' he said. 'Peace be with + you, brethren!' The watchful George steered him to the circle of the + nearest fire. The heads of the camel-sheiks bowed gravely, and the camels, + scenting a European, looked sideways curiously like brooding hens, half + ready to get to their feet. + </p> + <p> + 'A beast and a driver to go to the fighting line to-night,' said Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'A Mulaid?' said a voice, scornfully naming the best baggage-breed that he + knew. + </p> + <p> + 'A Bisharin,' returned Dick, with perfect gravity. 'A Bisharin without + saddle-galls. Therefore no charge of thine, shock-head.' + </p> + <p> + Two or three minutes passed. Then—'We be knee-haltered for the + night. There is no going out from the camp.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not for money?' + </p> + <p> + 'H'm! Ah! English money?' + </p> + <p> + Another depressing interval of silence. + </p> + <p> + 'How much?' + </p> + <p> + 'Twenty-five pounds English paid into the hand of the driver at my + journey's end, and as much more into the hand of the camel-sheik here, to + be paid when the driver returns.' + </p> + <p> + This was royal payment, and the sheik, who knew that he would get his + commission on this deposit, stirred in Dick's behalf. + </p> + <p> + 'For scarcely one night's journey—fifty pounds. Land and wells and + good trees and wives to make a man content for the rest of his days. Who + speaks?' said Dick. + </p> + <p> + 'I,' said a voice. 'I will go—but there is no going from the camp.' + </p> + <p> + 'Fool! I know that a camel can break his knee-halter, and the sentries do + not fire if one goes in chase. Twenty-five pounds and another twenty-five + pounds. But the beast must be a good Bisharin; I will take no + baggage-camel.' + </p> + <p> + Then the bargaining began, and at the end of half an hour the first + deposit was paid over to the sheik, who talked in low tones to the driver. + </p> + <p> + Dick heard the latter say: 'A little way out only. Any baggage-beast will + serve. Am I a fool to waste my cattle for a blind man?' + </p> + <p> + 'And though I cannot see'—Dick lifted his voice a little—'yet + I carry that which has six eyes, and the driver will sit before me. If we + do not reach the English troops in the dawn he will be dead.' + </p> + <p> + 'But where, in God's name, are the troops?' + </p> + <p> + 'Unless thou knowest let another man ride. Dost thou know? Remember it + will be life or death to thee.' + </p> + <p> + 'I know,' said the driver, sullenly. 'Stand back from my beast. I am going + to slip him.' + </p> + <p> + 'Not so swiftly. George, hold the camel's head a moment. I want to feel + his cheek.' The hands wandered over the hide till they found the branded + half-circle that is the mark of the Biharin, the light-built riding-camel. + </p> + <p> + 'That is well. Cut this one loose. Remember no blessing of God comes on + those who try to cheat the blind.' + </p> + <p> + The men chuckled by the fires at the camel-driver's discomfiture. He had + intended to substitute a slow, saddle-galled baggage-colt. + </p> + <p> + 'Stand back!' one shouted, lashing the Biharin under the belly with a + quirt. Dick obeyed as soon as he felt the nose-string tighten in his hand,—and + a cry went up, 'Illaha! Aho! He is loose.' + </p> + <p> + With a roar and a grunt the Biharin rose to his feet and plunged forward + toward the desert, his driver following with shouts and lamentation. + </p> + <p> + George caught Dick's arm and hurried him stumbling and tripping past a + disgusted sentry who was used to stampeding camels. + </p> + <p> + 'What's the row now?' he cried. + </p> + <p> + 'Every stitch of my kit on that blasted dromedary,' Dick answered, after + the manner of a common soldier. + </p> + <p> + 'Go on, and take care your throat's not cut out side—you and your + dromedary's.' + </p> + <p> + The outcries ceased when the camel had disappeared behind a hillock, and + his driver had called him back and made him kneel down. + </p> + <p> + 'Mount first,' said Dick. Then climbing into the second seat and gently + screwing the pistol muzzle into the small of his companion's back, 'Go on + in God's name, and swiftly. Good-bye, George. Remember me to Madame, and + have a good time with your girl. Get forward, child of the Pit!' + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later he was shut up in a great silence, hardly broken by + the creaking of the saddle and the soft pad of the tireless feet. Dick + adjusted himself comfortably to the rock and pitch of the pace, girthed + his belt tighter, and felt the darkness slide past. For an hour he was + conscious only of the sense of rapid progress. + </p> + <p> + 'A good camel,' he said at last. + </p> + <p> + 'He was never underfed. He is my own and clean bred,' the driver replied. + </p> + <p> + 'Go on.' + </p> + <p> + His head dropped on his chest and he tried to think, but the tenor of his + thoughts was broken because he was very sleepy. In the half doze in seemed + that he was learning a punishment hymn at Mrs. Jennett's. He had committed + some crime as bad as Sabbath-breaking, and she had locked him up in his + bedroom. But he could never repeat more than the first two lines of the + hymn— + </p> + <p> + When Israel of the Lord believed Out of the land of bondage came. + </p> + <p> + He said them over and over thousands of times. The driver turned in the + saddle to see if there were any chance of capturing the revolver and + ending the ride. Dick roused, struck him over the head with the butt, and + stormed himself wide awake. Somebody hidden in a clump of camel-thorn + shouted as the camel toiled up rising ground. A shot was fired, and the + silence shut down again, bringing the desire to sleep. Dick could think no + longer. He was too tired and stiff and cramped to do more than nod + uneasily from time to time, waking with a start and punching the driver + with the pistol. + </p> + <p> + 'Is there a moon?' he asked drowsily. + </p> + <p> + 'She is near her setting.' + </p> + <p> + 'I wish that I could see her. Halt the camel. At least let me hear the + desert talk.' + </p> + <p> + The man obeyed. Out of the utter stillness came one breath of wind. It + rattled the dead leaves of a shrub some distance away and ceased. A + handful of dry earth detached itself from the edge of a rail trench and + crumbled softly to the bottom. + </p> + <p> + 'Go on. The night is very cold.' + </p> + <p> + Those who have watched till the morning know how the last hour before the + light lengthens itself into many eternities. It seemed to Dick that he had + never since the beginning of original darkness done anything at all save + jolt through the air. Once in a thousand years he would finger the + nailheads on the saddle-front and count them all carefully. Centuries + later he would shift his revolver from his right hand to his left and + allow the eased arm to drop down at his side. From the safe distance of + London he was watching himself thus employed,—watching critically. + Yet whenever he put out his hand to the canvas that he might paint the + tawny yellow desert under the glare of the sinking moon, the black shadow + of a camel and the two bowed figures atop, that hand held a revolver and + the arm was numbed from wrist to collar-bone. Moreover, he was in the + dark, and could see no canvas of any kind whatever. + </p> + <p> + The driver grunted, and Dick was conscious of a change in the air. + </p> + <p> + 'I smell the dawn,' he whispered. + </p> + <p> + 'It is here, and yonder are the troops. Have I done well?' + </p> + <p> + The camel stretched out its neck and roared as there came down wind the + pungent reek of camels in the square. + </p> + <p> + 'Go on. We must get there swiftly. Go on.' + </p> + <p> + 'They are moving in their camp. There is so much dust that I cannot see + what they do.' + </p> + <p> + 'Am I in better case? Go forward.' + </p> + <p> + They could hear the hum of voices ahead, the howling and the bubbling of + the beasts and the hoarse cries of the soldiers girthing up for the day. + </p> + <p> + Two or three shots were fired. + </p> + <p> + 'Is that at us? Surely they can see that I am English,' Dick spoke + angrily. + </p> + <p> + 'Nay, it is from the desert,' the driver answered, cowering in his saddle. + </p> + <p> + 'Go forward, my child! Well it is that the dawn did not uncover us an hour + ago.' + </p> + <p> + The camel headed straight for the column and the shots behind multiplied. + The children of the desert had arranged that most uncomfortable of + surprises, a dawn attack for the English troops, and were getting their + distance by snap-shots at the only moving object without the square. + </p> + <p> + 'What luck! What stupendous and imperial luck!' said Dick. 'It's "just + before the battle, mother." Oh, God has been most good to me! + </p> + <p> + Only'—the agony of the thought made him screw up his eyes for an + instant—'Maisie...' + </p> + <p> + 'Allahu! We are in,' said the man, as he drove into the rearguard and the + camel knelt. + </p> + <p> + 'Who the deuce are you? Despatches or what? What's the strength of the + enemy behind that ridge? How did you get through?' asked a dozen voices. + For all answer Dick took a long breath, unbuckled his belt, and shouted + from the saddle at the top of a wearied and dusty voice, 'Torpenhow! Ohe, + Torp! Coo-ee, Tor-pen-how.' + </p> + <p> + A bearded man raking in the ashes of a fire for a light to his pipe moved + very swiftly towards that cry, as the rearguard, facing about, began to + fire at the puffs of smoke from the hillocks around. Gradually the + scattered white cloudlets drew out into the long lines of banked white + that hung heavily in the stillness of the dawn before they turned over + wave-like and glided into the valleys. The soldiers in the square were + coughing and swearing as their own smoke obstructed their view, and they + edged forward to get beyond it. A wounded camel leaped to its feet and + roared aloud, the cry ending in a bubbling grunt. Some one had cut its + throat to prevent confusion. Then came the thick sob of a man receiving + his death-wound from a bullet; then a yell of agony and redoubled firing. + </p> + <p> + There was no time to ask any questions. + </p> + <p> + 'Get down, man! Get down behind the camel!' + </p> + <p> + 'No. Put me, I pray, in the forefront of the battle.' Dick turned his face + to Torpenhow and raised his hand to set his helmet straight, but, + miscalculating the distance, knocked it off. Torpenhow saw that his hair + was gray on the temples, and that his face was the face of an old man. + </p> + <p> + 'Come down, you damned fool! Dickie, come off!' + </p> + <p> + And Dick came obediently, but as a tree falls, pitching sideways from the + Bisharin's saddle at Torpenhow's feet. His luck had held to the last, even + to the crowning mercy of a kindly bullet through his head. + </p> + <p> + Torpenhow knelt under the lee of the camel, with Dick's body in his arms. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Light That Failed, by Rudyard Kipling + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHT THAT FAILED *** + +***** This file should be named 2876-h.htm or 2876-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/7/2876/ + +Produced by David Reed, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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