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diff --git a/43186-8.txt b/43186-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 6bf6f83..0000000 --- a/43186-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6979 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Walking Shadows, by Alfred Noyes - -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: Walking Shadows - -Author: Alfred Noyes - -Release Date: July 10, 2013 [EBook #43186] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALKING SHADOWS *** - - - - -Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from scanned images of public domain -material from the Google Print project.) - - - - - - - - - - WALKING SHADOWS - - _SEA TALES AND OTHERS_ - - BY ALFRED NOYES - - - NEW YORK - FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY - PUBLISHERS - - _Copyright, 1918, by_ - Alfred Noyes - - _Copyright, 1918, by_ - Frederick A. Stokes Company - - _All Rights Reserved_ - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - PRELUDE xi - - I. THE LIGHT-HOUSE 1 - - II. UNCLE HYACINTH 28 - - III. THE CREATIVE IMPULSE 82 - - IV. THE MAN FROM BUFFALO 117 - - V. THE _Lusitania_ WAITS 138 - - VI. THE LOG OF THE _Evening Star_ 151 - - VII. GOBLIN PEACHES 177 - - VIII. MAY MARGARET 205 - - IX. MAROONED 249 - - X. THE GARDEN ON THE CLIFF 281 - - XI. THE HAND OF THE MASTER 292 - - - - -WALKING SHADOWS - - - - -_Prelude_ - - - Of those who fought and died - Unreckoned, undescried, - Breaking no hearts but two or three that loved them; - Of multitudes that gave - Their memories to the grave, - And the unrevealing seas of night removed them; - - Of those unnumbered hosts - Who smile at all our boasts - And are not blazed on any scroll of glory; - Mere out-posts in the night, - Mere keepers of the light, - Where history stops, let shadows weave a story. - - Shadows, but ah, they know - That history's pomp and show - Are shadows of a shadow, gilt and painted. - They see the accepted lie - In robes of state go by. - They see the prophet stoned, the trickster sainted. - - And so my shadows turn - To truths that they discern - Beyond the ordered "facts" that fame would cherish. - They walk awhile with dreams, - They follow flying gleams - And lonely lights at sea that pass and perish. - - Not tragic all indeed, - Not all without remede - Of clean-edged mirth. Our Rosalie of laughter, - The bayonet of a jest, - May pierce the devil's breast, - And give us room and time for grief, here-after. - - So let them weep or smile - Or kneel, or dance awhile, - Fantastic shades, by wandering fires begotten; - Remembrancers of themes - That dawn may mock as dreams. - Then let them sleep, at dawn, with the forgotten. - - - - -WALKING SHADOWS - - - - -I - -THE LIGHT-HOUSE - - -The position of a light-house keeper, in a sea infested by submarines, -is a peculiar one; but Peter Ramsay, keeper of the _Hatchets' Light_, -had reasons for feeling that his lonely tower, six miles from the -mainland, was the happiest habitation in the world. - -At five o'clock, on a gusty October afternoon, of the year 1916, Peter -had just finished his tea and settled down, with a pipe and the last -number of the _British Weekly_, for five minutes' reading, before he -turned to the secret of his happiness again. Precisely at this moment, -the Commander of the U-99, three miles away to the north, after making -sure through his periscope that there were no patrol boats in the -vicinity, rose to the surface, and began to look for the _Hatchets'_. -He, too, had reasons for wishing to get inside the light-house, if only -for half an hour. It was possible only by trickery; but he thought it -might be done under cover of darkness, and he was about to reconnoiter. - -When he first emerged, he had some difficulty in descrying his goal -across that confused sea. His eye was guided by a patch of foam, larger -than the ordinary run of white-caps, and glittering in the evening sun -like a black-thorn blossom. As the sky brightened behind it, he saw, -rising upright, like the single slim pistil of those rough white petals, -the faint shaft of the light-house itself. - -He stole nearer, till these pretty fancies were swallowed up in the -savagery of the place. It greeted him with a deep muffled roar as of a -hundred sea-lions, and the air grew colder with its thin mists of spray. -The black thorns and white petals became an angry ship-wrecking ring of -ax-headed rocks, furious with surf; and the delicate pistil assumed the -stature of the Nelson Column. - -It made his head reel to look up at its firm height from the tossing -conning-tower, as he circled the reef, making his observations. He noted -the narrow door, twenty feet up, in the smooth wall of the shaft. There -was no way of approaching it until the rope-ladder was let down from -within. But, after midnight, when the custodian's wits might be a little -drowsy, he thought his plan might succeed. He noted the pool on the -reef, and the big boulder near the base of the tower. There was only one -thing which he did not see, an unimportant thing in war-time. He did not -see the beauty of that unconscious monument to the struggling spirit of -man. - -Its lofty silence and endurance, in their stern contrast with the tumult -below, had touched the imagination of many wanderers on that sea; for it -soared to the same sky as their spires on land, and its beauty was -heightened by the simplicity of its practical purpose. But it made no -more impression on Captain Bernstein than on the sea-gulls that mewed -and swooped around it. - -When his observations were completed, the U-99 sheered off and -submerged. She had to lie "doggo," at the bottom of the sea, for the -next few hours; and there were several of her sisters waiting, a mile or -so to the north, on a fine sandy bottom, to compare notes. Two of these -sisters were big submarine mine-layers of a new type. The U-99 settled -down near them, and began exchanging under-water messages at once. - -"If you lay your mines properly, and lie as near as possible to the -harbor mouth, you can leave the rest to me. They will come out in a -hurry, and you ought to sink two-thirds of them." This was the final -message from Captain Bernstein; and, shortly after eight o'clock, all -the other submarines moved off, in the direction of the coast. The U-99 -remained in her place, till the hour was ripe. - -About midnight, she came to the surface again. Everything seemed -propitious. There were no patrols in sight; and, in any case, Captain -Bernstein knew that they seldom came within a mile of the light-house, -for ships gave it a wide berth, and there was not likely to be good -hunting in the neighborhood. This was why the U-boats had found it so -useful as a rendezvous lately. - -It was a moonless night; and, as the U-99 stole towards the _Hatchets'_ -for the second time, even Captain Bernstein was impressed by the -spectacle before him. Against a sky of scudding cloud and flying stars, -the light-house rose like the scepter of the oldest Sea-god. The mighty -granite shaft was gripped at the base by black knuckles of rock in a -welter of foam. A hundred feet above, the six-foot reflectors of solid -crystal sheathed the summit with fire, and flashed as they revolved -there like the facets of a single burning jewel. - -"They could be smashed with a three-inch gun," thought Bernstein, "and -they are very costly. Many thousand pounds of damage could thus be done, -and perhaps many ships endangered." But he concluded, with some regret, -that his other plans were more promising. - - * * * * * - -It was long past Peter's usual bedtime; but he was trimming his oil -lamp, just now, in his tiny octagonal sitting-room, half-way up the -tower. He had been busy all the evening, with the secret of his -happiness, which was a very queer one indeed. He was trying to write a -book, trying and failing. His papers were scattered all over the worn -red cloth that tried--and failed--to cover his oak table, exactly as -poor Peter's language was trying to clothe his thought. Indeed, there -were many clues to his life and character in that room, which served -many purposes. It had only one window, hardly larger than the -arrow-defying slits of a Norman castle. It was his kitchen, and a -cooking-stove was fitted compactly into a corner. It was his library; -and, facing the window, there was a book-shelf, containing several -tattered volumes by Mark Rutherford; a Bible; the "Impregnable Rock of -Holy Scripture," by Gladstone; the "First Principles" of Herbert -Spencer; and the Essays of Emerson. There was also a small volume, bound -in blue leather, called "The Wonders of the Deep." The leather binding -was protected by a brown paper jacket, for it was a prize, awarded by -the Westport Grammar School, in 1864, to Peter Ramsay, aged fourteen, -for his excellence in orthography. This, of course, was the beginning of -all his dreams; and it was still their sustainment, though the death of -his father, who had been the captain of a small coasting steamer, had -thrown Peter on the world before he was fifteen, and ended his hopes of -the scholarship, which was to have carried him eventually to the -heights. - -The bound volumes were buttressed between piles of the _British Weekly_. -The only picture on the wall was a framed oleograph of Gladstone, his -chief hero, though Peter had long ago renounced the theology of the -Impregnable Rock. Whether the great statesman deserved this worship or -not is a matter for historians. The business of this chronicle is to -record the views of Peter, and these were quite clear. - -He was restless to-night. It was his sixty-sixth birthday, and it -reminded him that he was behindhand with his great work. Nobody else had -reminded him of it, for he was quite alone in the world. He was -beginning to wonder, almost for the first time, whether he was really -destined to fail. He had begun to look his age at last; but he was a -fine figure of a man still. His white hair and flowing white beard -framed a face of the richest mahogany brown, in which the blood mantled -like wine over the cheek-bones. His deep eyes, of the marine blue, that -belongs only to the folk of the sea, were haunted sometimes by visionary -fires, like those in the eyes of an imaginative child. He might have -posed for the original fisherman of his first name. Of course, he was -regarded as a little eccentric by the dwellers on the coast, whom he had -often amazed by what they called his "innocence." The red nosed landlord -of the _Blue Dolphin_ had often been heard, on Sundays, to say that we -should all do well if we were as innocent as Peter. When he visited the -little town of Westport (which was now a naval base), the urchins in the -street sometimes expressed their view of the matter by waiting until he -was safely out of hearing, and then crowing like cocks. - -Nobody knew of Peter Ramsay's secret, or the urchins might not have -waited at all, and even the kindest of his friends would have regarded -him as daft. But the comedy was not without its tragic aspect. Peter -Ramsay may have been cracked, but it was with the peculiar kind of crack -that you get in the everlasting hills, a rift that shows the sky. With -his imperfect equipment and hopeless lack of technique, he was trying to -write down certain truths, for the lack of which the civilized world, at -that moment, was in danger of destruction. - -This does not mean that Peter was the sole possessor of those truths. He -was only one among millions of simple and unsophisticated souls, all -over the world, who possessed those truths dumbly, and knew, with -complete certainty, that their intellectual leaders, for the most part, -lacked them, or had lost them in a multitude of details. These dumb -millions were right about certain important matters; and their leaders, -for all their dialectical cleverness, had lost sight of the truth which -has always proceeded _ex ore infantium_. It was the tragedy of the -twentieth century, and it had culminated in the tragedy of philosophical -Germany. There were certain features of modern books, modern paintings, -and modern music, that mopped and mowed like faces through the bars of a -mad-house, clamoring for dishonor and brutality in every department of -life. These things could not be dissociated from the international -tragedy. They were its heralds. Peter Ramsay was one of those obscure -millions who were the most important figures in Armageddon because they, -and they alone, in our modern world, had retained the right to challenge -the sophistries of Germany. They had not needed the war to teach them -the reality of evil; and if they had sinned, they had never for a moment -tried to prove that they did right in sinning. - -Peter knew all this, though he would not have said it in so many words. -In his book, he was trying to meet the main onset of all those -destructive forces. He had realized that the modern world had no faith, -since the creeds had gone into the melting pot; and he was trying to -write down, plainly, for plain men, exactly what he believed. - -He turned over the red-lined pages of the big leather-bound ledger, half -diary, half commonplace book, in which, for the last forty years, he had -made his notes. It was a queer medley, beginning with passages written -in his youth, that recalled many of his old struggles. There was one, in -particular, that always reminded him of a school friend named Herbert -Potts, who had eventually won the coveted scholarship. They used to go -for walks together, over the hills, and talk about science and religion. - -"So you don't believe there is any future life," Peter had said to him -one day. - -"Not for the individual," replied Herbert Potts, adjusting his glasses, -with a singularly intellectual expression. - -"But if there is none for the individual, it means the end of all we are -fighting for, because the race will come to an end, eventually," said -Peter. "Why, think, Potts, think, it means that all your progress drops -over a precipice at last. It means that instead of the Figure of Love, -we must substitute the Figure of Death, stretching out his arms and -saying to the whole human race, 'Come unto _Me_! Suffer little children -to come unto _Me_!'" - -"I am afraid all the evidence points that way," said Potts, and as he -had just passed the London matriculation examination, the words rang -like a death-knell in Peter's foolish heart. He remembered how the words -had recurred to him in his dreams that night, and how he awoke in the -gray dawn to find that his pillow was wet with tears. - -There were many other memories in his book, memories of the long -struggle, the wrestling with the angel, and at last the music of that -loftier certainty which he longed to impart. - -A little after midnight, he threw aside the hopeless chaos of the -manuscript, into which he had been trying to distil the essence of his -scrap-book. He rose and went upstairs to his bedroom on the next floor. -It was a little smaller than his sitting-room, and contained a camp-bed, -a wash-stand, with a cracked blue jug and basin, and a chest of -drawers. Over the head of the bed was a photogravure reproduction of -_The Light of the World_; and on the wall, facing it, an illuminated -prayer: _Lighten our darkness, we beseech Thee, O Lord_! Under this, -affixed to the wall, was the telephone which connected the _Hatchets'_ -with the Naval Station on the coast, by an under-sea wire. - -But in spite of this modern invention, Peter Ramsay had quietly gone -back through the centuries. He looked as if he were talking to a very -great distance indeed, a distance so great that it became an immediate -presence. (Do not mathematicians declare that if you could throw a stone -into infinity, it would return to your hand?) He was kneeling down by -the bed, clasping his hands, lifting his face, closing his eyes, and -moving his lips, exactly like a child at his prayers. - -It is an odd fact, and doubtless it would have fortified the great -ironic intellects of our day (though seventy feet in this unfathomable -universe may hardly be reckoned as depth) to know that in the darkness -of the reef outside, seventy feet below, four shadowy figures had just -landed from a collapsible boat, belonging to the U-99. Three of them -were now hauling it out of reach of the waves. The fourth was Captain -Bernstein. He stood, fingering his revolver, and looking up at the two -lighted windows. - -Concerning these things, Peter received no enlightenment; but he rose -from his knees with a glowing countenance, and hurried down to his work -again. - -"I'll begin at the beginning," he muttered. - -He took a clean sheet of paper and headed it: _Chapter I_. Under this, -he wrote the first four words of the Bible: "_In the beginning, God_." -Then he crossed them out, and wrote again: "_First Principles_," as a -better means of approach to the moderns. - -He consulted his ledger, and decided that a certain paragraph, written -long ago, must take the first place in his book. He wrote it down just -as it stood. - -"We have forgotten the first principles of straight thinking--the -axioms. We have forgotten that the whole is greater than the part. Hence -comes much fallacy among modern writers, even great ones, like that -pessimist who has said that man, the creature, possesses more nobility -than that from which he came. - -"One thing must be acknowledged as _known_, even by agnostics,--namely, -that if we have experienced here on earth the grandeurs of the soul of -Beethoven and Shakespeare, there must be at the heart of things, before -ever this earth was born, something infinitely greater. It is infinitely -greater because it is the Producer--not the Product. - -"There are some who say that this is only putting the mystery back a -stage. This is not a true statement. The mystery is that there should be -anything in existence at all. The moment you have a grain of sand in -existence, the impossible has happened, and the miracle of the things -that we see around us can only be referred to some primal miracle, -greater than all, because it contained all their possibilities within -itself. - -"Beyond this, we are all agnostics. But our reason, building on what we -see around us, carries us thus far. Modern thinkers have reversed this -process. They begin with man as the summit, and explain him by something -less. This again they explain by something less; and slowly whittle away -all the visible universe till they arrive at the smallest possible -residuum. There is no more tragic spectacle in this age than that of -the philosophers who, like Herbert Spencer, having reduced the whole -universe to a nebula, try to bridge the gulf between this nebula and -nothingness. The great intellect of Spencer grovels below the mental -capacity of a child of ten as he makes this absurd attempt, announcing -that perhaps the primal nebula might be conceived as thinning itself out -until nothingness were reached. It is the agnostics who evade the issue. -For there are certain things here and now which we must accept. We know -that Love and Thought are greater than the dust to which we consign -them. There is only one choice before us. Either there is nothing behind -these things, or else there is everything behind them. If we say that -there is nothing behind them, all our human struggle goes for nothing. -We abandon even the axioms of our reason, and we are doubly traitors to -the divine light that lives in every man. If we say that there is -everything behind the universe, each of us has his own private door into -that divine reality, the door of his own heart." - -At this moment three of the shadowy figures on the reef below were -ensconcing themselves behind a boulder of rock, close to the base of -the tower, and the fourth figure was groping about on the reef, -collecting a handful of stones. - -"I have heard men say," Peter continued, "that they cannot believe in a -God who would permit all the suffering on this earth, or else he must be -a limited God who cannot help himself. - -"This is another question involving the freedom of the will. How long -would a world hold together if we could all depend on a miracle to help -us at every turn, or even to save the innocent from the consequences of -our guilt? Those who ask the question usually assume that our sufferings -here are the end of all. The fact that the opposite assumption accords -better with our sense of justice is surely no reason for denying it, -especially when it follows from the answer given in the first paragraph. -These men, asking for miraculous proof of omnipotence, to save the world -from suffering, are asking for nothing less than the abolition of law in -the universe; and it is only in law that freedom can be found. The -rising of the sun cannot be timed to suit each individual; but this is -what modern thinkers demand. They say that an all-powerful God could do -even this. When they have settled between themselves exactly what they -wish, doubtless the Almighty could answer their prayer. Till then, it is -better to say 'Thy law is a lantern unto my feet.'" - -At this moment a stone came through the little window behind Peter. The -glass scattered itself in splinters all over his red tablecloth. He -leapt to his feet, blew the lamp out, and went to the window. He could -see nothing in the darkness at first; but as he stood and listened, he -thought he heard a voice in the pauses of the wind, crying for help. - -Instantly, he hurried out and down the winding stair to the narrow door. -He shot back the great bolts, and opened it. He stood there fifteen feet -above the rocks, framed in the opening, his white hair and beard blowing -about him, as he peered to right and left. - -"Come down and help us, for God's sake!" the voice cried again. - -And as Peter's eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he saw a dark -figure crawling laboriously over the reef to the foot of the tower, -where it fell as if in a faint. Peter's only thought was that a fishing -boat had foundered. He dropped the rope ladder at once and descended. -He stooped over the fallen man. In the same flash of time, he recognized -that this was an enemy seaman, and three more shadowy figures leapt from -their hiding-place behind a boulder of rock and gripped him. - -"There is no cause for fear," said their leader, rising to his feet. -"Our boat has foundered; but we shall die of cold if we stay out here. -You must take us into the light-house." - -Peter regarded them curiously, saying nothing. The leader went up the -ladder, and beckoned to the others, who ordered Peter to go next, and -then followed him. - -"I regret that it was necessary to smash your window," said Captain -Bernstein, as the queer group gathered round the lamp in Peter's living -room. "But we might have died out there on a night like this, before you -could have heard us shouting. We shall not harm you, although there are -four of us. We are in danger ourselves. My friends and I are sick of -this work; and, if we are sure of good treatment, we are prepared to -help the British with all the information in our possession." - -"How did you escape from the submarine?" said Peter. - -"We were alone on deck," replied Bernstein, "and we took our chance of -swimming for the _Hatchets'_." - -Peter surveyed the four drenched figures thoughtfully. One of them was -not realistic enough to satisfy him. There were several obviously dry -patches about the shoulders. - -"There's a pool on the reef," said Peter at last to this man. "Did you -find it too cold?" - -A change came over Bernstein's face at once. - -"There's no time to be wasted," he said. "If you want to help your -country, go to your telephone and give this message to the naval base, -exactly as I tell it to you. You must say you have just sighted three -submarines, two hundred yards due north of the _Hatchets'_ light. You -must say that you have sighted them yourself, because they would not -take our word for it; and you must not say anything about our being here -at present. If you depart from these instructions, you will be shot -instantly. Now, then, go to your telephone and speak." - -Peter gathered up his beloved leather-bound book from the table, and -held it under his arm. It was his most precious possession, and the -protective act was quite unconscious. Then, for the second time that -night, he went into his bedroom, followed by the four Germans. He was -white and shaking. He could not understand what these men were after, -and the message they proposed seemed to be useful to his own side. After -all, the only kind of message that he could send would be something very -like it. He might as well deliver it, since these crazy autocrats had -decided that it must be given thus, and not otherwise. - -He laid the precious book down on the bed, turned to the telephone, and -lifted the receiver to his ear. As he did so, the cold muzzle of a -revolver pressed against his right temple. The first buzzings of the -telephone resolved themselves into a voice from the coast of England, -asking what he wanted. Then, it seemed as if a new light were thrown -upon the character of the words he was about to speak. He knew -instinctively that, if he spoke them, he would be working for the enemy. - -In the same instant, he saw exactly what he must do. - -"This is Peter Ramsay speaking," he said, "from the _Hatchets' Light_. I -have just sighted three submarines due north of the _Hatchets'_." - -He paused. Then, with a rush, he said: - -"Trap! Germans in light-house, forcing me to say this!" - -The hand of one of his captors struck down the hook of the receiver. In -the same instant, the shot rang out, and Peter Ramsay dropped sidelong, -a mere bundle of old clothes and white hair, dabbled with blood. - -The German at the telephone replaced the receiver on the hook which he -was still holding down. - -"Crazy old fool," muttered Bernstein. He was staring at the red-lined -scrap-book on the bed. It lay open at a page describing in Peter's big -sprawling hand, an open-air service among some Welsh miners which he had -once witnessed, a memorial service on the day of Gladstone's funeral. He -had been greatly impressed by their choral singing of what was supposed -to be Gladstone's favorite hymn, and it ended with a quotation: - - "_While I draw this fleeting breath, - When my eyelids close in death, - When I soar through tracts unknown, - See Thee on Thy Judgment Throne, - Rock of Ages, cleft for me. - Let me hide myself in Thee._" - -The murderer stooped and laid the revolver near the right hand of the -dead man. One of his men touched him on the elbow as he did it, and -pointed to Peter's own old-fashioned revolver on the little shelf beside -the bed. Captain Bernstein nodded and smiled. The idea was a good one, -and he put Peter's own revolver in his stiffening fingers. He had just -succeeded in making it look quite a realistic suicide, when the -telephone bell rang sharply, making him start upright, as if a hand were -laid upon his shoulder. He took the receiver again and listened. - -"Can't hear," he said, trying to imitate Peter's gruff voice. "No--I -dropped the telephone on the floor--no--it was a mistake--no--I said -three submarines--two hundred yards due north of the _Hatchets' -Light_--all right, sir." - -He hung the receiver up again, and looked at the others. - -"We may succeed yet," he said. "Come quickly." - -A minute later they were standing on the lee of the reef. Bernstein -blew a whistle thrice. It was answered from the darkness by another, -shrill as the cry of a sea-gull; and in five minutes more, the four men -and the collapsible boat were aboard their submarine. It submerged at -once, and went due south at twelve knots an hour below the unrevealing -seas. - - * * * * * - -Commander Pickering, the officer on duty at the naval base, was not sure -whether it was worth while paying any attention to the message from the -old man at the _Hatchets'_. He went to the window and looked at the -starry flash of the light-house in the distance. - -"Old Peter probably sighted a school of porpoises. They frightened him -into a fit," he said. - -The two men of the naval reserve who were waiting for orders, watched -him like schoolboys expecting a holiday; but he could not make up his -mind. He left the window and studied the big chart on the wall, where -the movements of a dozen submarines were marked in red ink from point to -point as the daily reports came in, till the final red star announced -their destruction. He chewed his lip as he pondered. There was a fleet -of submarine destroyers in Westport Harbor at this moment, but they had -only just come in from a long spell, and he was loath to turn them out -on a wild-goose chase. - -"Confound the old idiot," he muttered again. "He can't even talk -straight. Wanted to say that he had seen submarines, and starts -jabbering about Germans in the light-house. Ring him up again, Dawkins, -and find out whether he is drunk or talking in his sleep." - -Dawkins went to the telephone. For five minutes, he alternately growled -into the mouth-piece and moved the hook up and down. - -"Don't get any answer at all, sir." - -"That's queer. He can't be asleep yet after that beautiful -conversation." - -Commander Pickering went to the window again with his night-glasses. - -"Damned if there isn't a light in both his rooms, and it's getting on -for two o'clock in the morning. There's something rum happening. We'll -take a sporting chance on it, and make a regular sweep of the bay. I'll -go out to the _Hatchets'_ myself on the _Silver King_. I think the old -boy is dotty, and I suppose the Admiral will have my scalp for it -to-morrow; but there's just one chance in a hundred thousand that Mr. -Peter Ramsay did spot a squadron of U-boats. If so, we may as well -strafe them properly." - -He went to the telephone himself this time, and began issuing orders all -over the base. His final sentence was an after-thought, an echo and an -elaboration of the queer warning he had received from the _Hatchets'_. - -"Don't go straight out. Make a sweep round by the south. There may be a -trap; and you may as well let the dirigibles go ahead of you and do some -scouting." - - * * * * * - -"It often happens with these chaps," said Commander Pickering to -Dawkins, as they stood in Peter's bedroom an hour before dawn. "It's the -lonely life that does it. They ought always to have a couple of men in -these places; and, if it hadn't been for the war, of course, there would -have been two men at the _Hatchets'_. Look here, at all this stuff. The -poor chap had religious mania or something. See what he has written on -these scraps of paper, twenty or thirty times over, every blessed text -he could find about lanterns and lights, and it's all mixed up with bits -from Herbert Spencer on the Unknowable." - -"It was well known all over Westport," said Dawkins, "that old Peter had -a screw loose about religion, but he seemed such a reliable old boy. You -don't think he could have seen anything to set him off like, sir? It -seems funny that the door was left open like that." - -"Lord knows what he may have been playing at before he did this. We'd -better go upstairs, and have a look at the light." - -The two men plodded up the steep winding stair, poking into every corner -on their way up, till they emerged on the little railed platform under -the great crystal moons of the lantern. The glare blinded them. - -"Turn those lights off," said Commander Pickering. - -Dawkins ducked into the tower and obeyed. - -Half a dozen patrol boats, each with its tiny black gun, at bow and -stern, were cruising to and fro over rough seas, that looked from that -height very much like the wrinkles on poor old Peter's gray face. -Another sailor hauled himself to the platform, breathing hard from the -ascent, and saluted. - -"A telephone message for you, sir," he said. "There's been a lot of -mines discovered off the point. We should have run straight into them, -if we had neglected your warning and steered a straight course out." - -Commander Pickering looked at Dawkins in silence. Far away to eastward, -the dawn was breaking, red as blood, through a low fringe of ragged gray -clouds. In a few moments the crystal moons of the _Hatchets' Light_ were -afire with it, and breaking it up into the colors of the rainbow round -the black figures of the three men. - -"We'll have to apologize to Peter," said Dawkins at last. - -"It was a very lucky coincidence," said Commander Pickering; and he led -the way downstairs at a smart pace to Peter's room again. - -"There's no doubt that he shot himself," he said. "Look at all this. The -man was stark mad. See what he has written on the title-page, under his -own name: '_Thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my -Church_.'" - - - - -II - -UNCLE HYACINTH - - -On a bright morning, early in the year 1917, Herr Sigismund Krauss, -secret agent for the German Government, stopped at the entrance of -Harrods' Stores, looked at himself in one of the big mirrors, thought -that he really did look a little like Bismarck, and adjusted his tie. To -relieve the tension, let it be added that this scene was not enacted in -London, but in the big branch of Harrods' that had recently been opened -in Buenos Aires. - -Nevertheless, it was because it looked so very much like the London -branch that it had rasped the nerves of Herr Krauss. He was in a very -nervous condition, owing to the state of his digestive system, and he -was easily irritated. He had been annoyed in the first place because the -German houses in Buenos Aires were unable to sell him several things -which he thought necessary for the voyage he was about to take across -the Atlantic. He had been almost angry when the bald-headed Englishman -who had waited on him in Harrods' advised him to buy a safety waistcoat. -All that he needed for his safety was the fraudulent Swedish passport, -made out in the name of Erik Neilsen, which he carried in his breast -pocket. - -"I am an American citizen," he said, complicating matters still further. -"I am sailing to Barcelona on an Argentine ship, vich the Germans are -pledged nod to sink." - -"This is the exact model of the waistcoat that saved the life of Lord -Winchelsea," said the Englishman. "I advise you to procure one. You -never know what those damned Germans will do." - -Here was a chance of raising a little feeling against the United States, -and Herr Krauss never lost an opportunity. He pretended to be even more -angry than he really was. - -"That is a most ungalled-for suggestion to a citizen of a neutral -guntry," he snorted. "I shall report id to the authorities." - -These mixed emotions had disarranged his tie. But he had obtained all -that he wanted, and when he emerged into the street the magic of the -blue sky and the brilliance of the sunlight on the stream of motor cars -and gay dresses cheered him greatly. After all, it was not at all like -London; and there were still places where a good German might speak his -mind, if he did not insist too much on his allegiance. - -He was in a great hurry, for his ship, the _Hispaniola_, sailed that -afternoon. When he reached his hotel he had only just time enough to -pack his hand luggage and drive down to the docks. His trunk had gone -down in advance. It was very important, indeed, that he should not miss -the boat. There was trouble pending, which might lead to his arrest if -he remained in Argentina for another week; and there was urgent--and -profitable--work for him to do in Europe. - -In his cab on the way to the docks he examined the three letters which -had been waiting for him at the hotel. Two of them were requests for a -settlement of certain bills. "They can wait," he murmured to himself -euphemistically, "till after the war." - -The third letter ran thus: - - _Dear Erik: Bon voyage! Most amusing news. Operation successful. - Uncle Hyacinth's appetite splendid. Six meals daily._ - - _Yours affectionately,_ - - _Bolo._ - -This was the most annoying thing of all. Herr Krauss knew nothing about -any operation. He knew even less about Uncle Hyacinth; and in order to -interpret the message he would require the code--Number Six, as -indicated by the last word but two, and the code was locked up in his -big brass-bound steamer trunk. It was not likely to be anything that -required immediate attention. He had received a number of code messages -lately which did not even call for a reply. It was merely irritating. - -When he reached the docks he found that his trunk was buried under a -mountain of other baggage on the lower deck of the _Hispaniola_, and -that he would not be able to get at it before they sailed. He had just -ten minutes to dash ashore and ring up the German legation on the -telephone. He wasted nearly all of them in getting the right change to -slip into the machine. A most exasperating conversation followed. - -"I wish to speak to the German minister." - -"He is away for the week-end. This is his secretary." - -"This is Sigismund Krauss speaking." - -"Oh, yes." - -"I have received a message about Uncle Hyacinth." - -"I can't hear." - -"Uncle Hyacinth's appetite!" This was bellowed. - -"Oh, yes." The voice was very cautious and polite. - -"I want to know if it's important." - -"Whose appetite did you say?" - -"Uncle Hyacinth's!" This was like Hindenburg himself thundering. - -There seemed to be some sort of consultation at the other end of the -wire. Then the reply came very clearly: - -"I'm sorry, but we cannot talk over the telephone. I can't hear anything -you say. Please put your question in writing." - -It was an obvious lie for any one to say he could not hear the -tremendous voice in which Herr Krauss had made his touching inquiry; but -he fully understood the need for caution. He had tapped too many wires -himself to blame his colleagues for timidity. He had only a minute to -burst out of the telephone booth and regain the deck, before the -gang-planks were hoisted in and the ship began to slide away to the open -sea. - -He was more than annoyed, he was disgusted, to find that half the people -on board were talking English. Two or three of them, including the -captain, were actually British subjects; while the purser, a few of the -stewards and several passengers were citizens of the United States. - -It was late that evening and the shore lights had all died away over the -pitch-black water when the brass-bound trunk belonging to Mr. Neilsen, -as we must call him henceforward, was carried into his stateroom by two -grunting stewards. The mysterious letter could be of no use to the -Fatherland now, and he certainly did not expect it to be important from -a selfish point of view. Also, he was hungry, and he did not hurry over -his dinner in order to decode it. It was only his curiosity that -impelled him to do so before he turned in; but a kind of petrefaction -overspread his well-fed countenance as the significance of the message -dawned upon him. He sat on a suitcase in his somewhat cramped quarters -and translated it methodically, looking up the meaning of each word in -the code, like a very unpleasant schoolboy with a dictionary. He was -nothing if not efficient, and he wrote it all down in pencil on a sheet -of note-paper, in two parallel columns, thus: - - _Bon voyage_ _U-boats_ - - _Most_ _Instructed_ - - _Amusing_ _Sink_ - - _News_ _Argentine_ - - _Operation_ _Ships_ - - _Successful_ _Destruction_ - - _Uncle Hyacinth's_ _Hispaniola_ - - _Appetite_ _Essential_ - - _Splendid_ _Cancel_ - - _Six_ _Code number_ - - _Meals_ _Passage_ - - _Daily_ _Immediately_ - -Perhaps to make sure that his eyes did not deceive him Mr. Neilsen wrote -the translation out again mechanically, in its proper form, at the foot -of the page, thus: - - _U-boats instructed sink Argentine ships. Destruction Hispaniola - essential. Cancel passage immediately._ - -It seemed to have exactly the same meaning. It was ghastly. He knew -exactly what that word "destruction" meant as applied to the -_Hispaniola_. He had been present at a secret meeting only a month ago, -at which it was definitely decided that it would be inadvisable to carry -out a certain amiable plan of sinking the Argentine ships without -leaving any traces, while an appearance of friendship was maintained -with the Argentine Government. Evidently this policy had suddenly been -reversed. There would be a concentration of half a dozen U-boats, a -swarm of them probably, for the express purpose of sinking the -_Hispaniola_, just as they had concentrated on the _Lusitania_; but in -this case there would be no survivors at all. The ship's boats would be -destroyed by gunfire, with all their occupants, because it was necessary -that there should be no evidence of what had happened; and necessity -knows no law. There was no chance of their failing. They would not dare -to fail; and he himself had organized the system by which the most -precise information with regard to sailings was conveyed to the German -Admiralty. - -He crushed all the papers into his breast pocket and hurried up on deck. -It was horribly dark. At the smoking-room door he met one of the ship's -officers. - -"Tell me," said Mr. Neilsen, "is there any possibility of our--of our -meeting a ship--er--bound the other way?" - -The officer stared at him, wondering whether Mr. Neilsen was drunk or -seasick. - -"Certainly," he said; "but it's not likely for some days on this -course." - -"Will it be possible for me to be taken off and return? I have found -among my mail an important letter. A friend is very ill." - -"I'm afraid it's quite impossible. In the first place we are not likely -to meet anything but cattle ships till we are in European waters." - -"Oh, but in this case, even a cattle ship--" said Mr. Neilsen with great -feeling. - -"It is impossible, I am afraid, in any case. It is absolutely against -the rules; and in war-time, of course, they are more strict than ever." - -"Even if I were to pay?" - -"Time is not for sale in this war, unfortunately. It's _verboten_," said -the officer with a smile; and that of course Mr. Neilsen understood at -once. - -He was naturally an excitable man, and his inability to obtain his wish -made him feel that he would give all his worldly possessions at this -moment for a berth in the dirtiest cattle boat that ever tramped the -seas, if only it were going in the opposite direction. - -He returned to his stateroom almost panic-stricken. He sat down on the -suitcase and held his head between his hands while he tried to think. He -was a slippery creature and his fellow countrymen had often admired his -"slimness" in former crises; but it was difficult to discover a cranny -big enough for a cockroach here, unless he made a clean breast of it to -the captain. In that case he would be incriminated with all the -belligerents and most of the neutrals. There would be no place in the -world where he could hide his head, except perhaps Mexico. He would -probably be penniless as well. - -At this point in his cogitations there was a knock on the door, which -startled him like a pistol shot. He opened it a cautious inch or -two--for his papers were all over his berth--and a steward handed him a -telegram. - -"This was waiting for you at the purser's office, sir," he said. "The -mail has only just been sorted. If you wish to reply by wireless you can -do so up to midnight." The man was smiling as if he knew the contents. -There had been some jesting, in fact, about this telegram at the office. - -A gleam of hope shot through Mr. Neilsen's chaotic brain as he opened -the envelope with trembling fingers. Perhaps it contained reassuring -news. His face fell. It simply repeated the former sickening message -about Uncle Hyacinth. But the steward had reminded him of one last -resource. - -"Yes," he said, trying hard to be calm; "I shall want to send a reply." - -"Here is a form, sir. You'll find the regulations printed on the back." - -Mr. Neilsen closed the door and sank, gasping, on to the suitcase to -examine the form. The regulations stated that no message would be -accepted in code. This did not worry him at first, as he thought he -could concoct an apparently straightforward and harmless message with -the elaborate vocabulary of his Number Six. But the code had not been -intended for agonizing moments like these. It abounded in commercial -phrases, medical terms and domestic greetings; and though there were a -number of alternative words and synonyms it was not so easy as he had -expected to make a coherent message which should be apparently a reply -to the telegram he had received. After half an hour of seeking for the -_mot juste_ which would have melted the heart of a Flaubert, he arrived -at the purser's office with wild eyes and handed in the yellow form. - -"I wish to send this by Marconi wireless," he said. - -The purser tapped each word with his pencil as he read it over: - - _Splendid. Most--amusing. Use--heaps--butter. Congratulate--Uncle - Hyacinth._ - - _Love._ - - _Erik._ - -"I beg your pardon, sir," said the purser, "but we can only accept -messages _en clair_." - -"It is as clear as I can make it," said Mr. Neilsen; and he was telling -the truth. "It is the answer to the telegram which was handed to me on -board." - -"It looks a little unusual, sir." - -"It is gonnected with an unusual operation," said Mr. Neilsen, who was -getting thoroughly rattled, "and goncerns the diet of the batient." - -"I see," said the purser. "Well, I'll take your word for it, sir, and -tell the operator." - -At this moment the steward, who had entered Mr. Neilsen's stateroom -during his absence, was laying out that gentleman's pyjamas on his -berth. He shook them out in order to fold them properly; and in doing so -he shook a round ball of paper on to the floor. He unrolled it and -discovered two parallel columns of words, which gave a new meaning to -the telegram. He put it in his pocket, looked carefully round the room, -took all the torn scraps out of the wastepaper basket and put those also -in his pocket. Then he went out, just in time to avoid meeting Mr. -Neilsen, and trotted by another companionway to the purser's office. - -Ten minutes later a consultation was held in the captain's cabin. The -two messages and the scraps of paper were spread out on the table, while -the purser took another large, clean sheet, on which he jotted down as -many of the words as could be deciphered, together with their -equivalents, in two parallel columns, almost as neat as those of Mr. -Neilsen himself. When he had finished there was a very nice little -vocabulary--though it was only a small part of the code; and in a very -short time they were staring in amazement at the full translation of the -messages concerning Uncle Hyacinth. Then they proceeded to business. - -Captain Abbey was an Englishman who had commanded many ships in many -parts of the world. He had worked his way up from before the mast, and -in moments of emotion he was still inclined to be reckless with his -aitches. He was very large and red-faced, and looked as the elder Weller -might have looked if he had taken to the sea in youth. Captain Abbey was -not a vindictive man; but the _Hispaniola_ was the finest ship he had -yet commanded, and the opportunity had come to him as a result of the -war and the general dearth of neutral skippers who were ready to take -risks. He was not anxious to lose the ship on his first voyage, and his -face grew redder and redder as he sat reading the messages on the table. - -"What's the translation of '_onions_'?" he said. - -"I think it means '_abroad_,' according to this column," said the -purser. - -"Put it down. Now, what does '_tonsils_' mean?" - -"_Tonsils? Tonsils?_ Oh, yes; here we are. It means '_von Tirpitz_.'" - -"The devil it does," said Captain Abbey. - -"And what does '_meat_' mean?" - -"'_German_,' I think." - -"And '_colossal_'?" - -"I had it here a moment ago. Ah, '_colossal_' means _twenty_." - -"Just like 'em," said the captain. "Here's _appendix_! I suppose they -find these medical terms useful. How do you translate that?" - -"_Appendix?_ H'm; let me see. Appendix means _false_." - -"'E deserves to 'ave it cut out with a blunt saw, blast 'is eyes. And -what d'you make of this message 'e's just 'anded in?" - -"As far as I can make it out this is the translation: 'Cancel -instructions sink; message too late; aboard _Hispaniola_.'" - -"And the lily-livered little skunk wanted to get orf and save his own -'ide! But 'e was quite ready to let the rest of us go to 'ell! There are -twenty women and four children aboard, too; and we're guaranteed by the -German Government! It would serve 'im right if we made 'im walk the -plank, like they used to do. But drowning's too good for 'im. If we put -'im in irons 'e'll know we're on the watch, and that'll ease 'is mind -too much. I know what to do with 'im when we get 'im on the other side. -But in the meantime we'll give that little bit of sauerkraut a taste of -'is own medicine. 'Ere's the idea: We've got enough of the code to work -it. We'll give him another radiogram to take to bed with 'im to-night. -'Ow's this? Steward, get me one of them yellow telegraph forms and one -of the proper envelopes. We'll fix it all up in good shape. And, look -'ere, steward; not a word about this to any one, you understand?" - -The steward departed on his errand. Captain Abbey took another sheet of -paper and laboriously, with tongue outthrust, constructed a sentence, -consulting the purser's two columns from time to time, and occasionally -chuckling as he altered or added a word. - -The purser slapped his thighs with delight as he followed the work over -the captain's shoulder; and when the form arrived he wrote out the -captain's composition in a very large, clear hand, with the fervor of a -man announcing good news. Then he licked the flap of the yellow -envelope, closed it, addressed it and handed it to the steward. - -"Give this wireless message to Mr. Neilsen in half an hour. Tell him it -has just arrived. If there is any reply to-night he must send it before -twelve o'clock." - -"I 'ope that will make 'im sit up and think," said Captain Abbey. "I'll -consider what steps I'd better take to save the ship; and then I shall -probably 'ave a wireless or two of my own to send elsewhere." - -Mr. Neilsen was greatly excited when the steward knocked at his door and -handed him the second wireless message. He opened it with trembling -fingers and read: - - _Still more successful. Uncle Hyacinth's tonsils removed. Appetite - now colossal. Bless him. Taking large quantities frozen meat._ - -He could hardly wait to translate it. He sat down on his suitcase again, -and spelled it out with the help of his Number Six, word by word, -refusing to believe his eyes, refusing even to read it as a consecutive -sentence till the bottom of the two parallel columns had been reached, -thus: - - _Still_ _Impossible_ - - _More_ _Total_ - - _Successful_ _Destruction_ - - _Uncle Hyacinth's_ _Hispaniola_ - - _Tonsils_ _Von Tirpitz_ - - _Removed_ _Advises_ - - _Appetite_ _Essential_ - - _Now_ _Squadron_ - - _Colossal_ _Twenty_ - - _Bless him_ _Submarines_ - - _Taking_ _Waiting_ - - _Large_ _Appropriate_ - - _Quantities_ _Death_ - - _Frozen_ _Good_ - - _Meat_ _German_ - - _Best_ _Enviable_ - - _Greetings_ _Position_ - -This was hideous. He remembered all that he had done all over the world -in the interests of the Fatherland. He remembered the skilful way in -which long before the war he had stirred up feeling in America against -Japan, and in Japan against both America and England. He remembered the -way in which he had manipulated the peace societies in the interest of -militarism. He had spent several years in London before the war, and he -believed he had helped to make the very name of England a reproach in -literary coteries; so that current English literature, unless it went -far beyond honest criticism of English life, unless indeed it manifested -a complete contempt for that pharisaical country and painted it as -rotten from head to foot, lost caste among the self-enthroned British -intellectuals. - -It was very easy to do this, because, though English editors paid -considerable attention to their leading articles, some of them did not -care very much what kind of stuff was printed in their literary columns; -and they would allow the best of our literature, old and new, and the -most representative part of it, to be misrepresented by an anonymous -Sinn Feiner in half a dozen journals simultaneously. The editors were -patriotic enough, but they didn't think current literature of much -importance. He had been able, therefore, to quote extracts from -important London journals in the foreign press. - -He had been helped, too, by lecturers who drew pensions from the British -Government for their literary merits, and told American audiences that -the one flag they loathed was the flag of the land that pensioned them. -He had reprinted these utterances, together with the innocent bleatings -of the intellectuals, and scattered them all over the world in pamphlet -form. He had marked passages in their books and sent them to friends. -Thousands of columns were devoted to them in the newspapers of foreign -countries, while the English press occasionally referred to them in -brief paragraphs, announcing to a drugged public at home that the -vagaries of these writers were of no importance. He had carried out the -program of his country to the letter, and poisoned the intellectual -wellsprings. - -No grain of poison was too small. He had even written letters to the -newspapers in Scotland, which had stimulated the belief of certain -zealous Scots that whenever the name of England was used it was intended -as a deliberate onslaught upon the Union. There was hardly any -destructive force or thought or feeling, good, bad or merely trivial, -which he had not turned to the advantage of Germany and the disadvantage -of other nations. Then when the war broke out he had redoubled his -activities. He was amazed when he thought of the successful lies he had -fostered all over the world. He had plotted with Hindus on the coast of -California, and provided them with the literature of freedom in the -interests of autocracy. He worked for dissension abroad and union in -Germany. He was hand-in-glove with the I. W. W. He was idealist, -socialist, pacifist, anarchist, futurist, suffragist, nationalist, -internationalist and always publicist, all at once, and for one cause -only--the cause of Germany. - -And this was the gratitude of the--of the--swine! Well, he would teach -them a lesson. God in heaven! There was only one thing he could do to -save his skin. He would send them an ultimatum! It was their last -chance. He shivered to think that it might be his own! - -But it was not so easy as he thought it would be to burn all his boats. -It cost him two days and two nights of tortuous thinking before he could -bring himself to the point. At eleven o'clock on the third night the -purser brought the captain a new message, which Mr. Neilsen had just -handed in to be despatched by wireless. It ran as follows: - - _Continue treatment. Vastly amusing. Uncle Hyacinth's magnificent - constitution stand anything. Apply mustard. Try red pepper._ - -The group that met to consider this new development included three -passengers, whom the captain had invited to share what he called the -fun. They were a Miss Depew, an American girl who was going to Europe to -do Red Cross work; and a Mr. and Mrs. Pennyfeather, English residents of -Buenos Aires, with whom she was traveling. The message, as they -interpreted it, ran as follows: - - _Unless instructions to sink Hispaniola countermanded, shall inform - captain. No alternative. Most important papers my possession._ - -"Good!" said Captain Abbey. "'E's beginning to show symptoms of -blackmail. I'd send this message on, only we're likely to make a bigger -bag by keeping quiet. We'll let 'im 'ave the reply to-morrow morning. -What shall we do to 'im next?" - -"Shoot him," said Miss Depew with complete calm. - -"Oh, I want to 'ave a little fun with 'im first," said Captain Abbey. -"I'm afraid you 'aven't got much sense of humor, Miss Depew." - -"Do you think so?" she said. She was of the purest Gibson type, and -never flickered an innocent eyelash or twisted a corner of her red -Cupid's bow of a mouth as she drawled: "I think it would be very -humorous indeed to shoot him, now that we know he is a German." - -"Well, after 'is trying to leave us without warning 'e deserves to be -skinned and stuffed. But we're likely to make much more of it if we keep -'im alive for our entertainment. Besides, 'e's going to be useful on -the other side. Now, what do you think of this for a scheme?" - -The heads of the conspirators drew closer round the table; and Mr. -Neilsen, wandering on deck like a lost spirit, pondered on the tragic -ironies of life. The thoughtless laughter that rippled up to him from -the captain's cabin filled him with no compassion toward any one but -himself. It was merely one more proof that only the Germans took life -seriously. All the same, if he could possibly help it, he was not going -to let them take his own life. - - -II - -There was no radiogram for Mr. Neilsen on the following day; and he was -perplexed by a new problem as he walked feverishly up and down the -promenade deck. - -Even if he received an assurance that the _Hispaniola_ would be spared, -how could he know that he was being told the truth? Necessity, as he -knew quite well, was the mother of murder. It was very necessary, -indeed, that his mouth should be sealed. Besides, he had more than a -suspicion that his use was fulfilled in the eyes of the German -Government, and that they would not be sorry if they could conveniently -get rid of him. He possessed a lot of perilous knowledge; and he wished -heartily that he didn't. He was tasting, in fact, the inevitable hell of -the criminal, which is not that other people distrust him, but that he -can trust nobody else. - -He leaned over the side of the ship and watched the white foam veining -the black water. - -"Curious, isn't it?" said dapper little Mr. Pennyfeather, who stood near -him. "Exactly like liquid marble. Makes you think of that philosophic -Johnny--What's-his-name--fellow that said 'everything flows,' don't you -know. And it does, too, by Jove! Everything! Including one's income! -It's curious, Mr. Neilsen, how quickly we've changed all our ideas about -the value of human life, isn't it? By Jove, that's flowing too! The -other morning I caught myself saying that there was no news in the -paper; and then I realized that I'd overlooked the sudden death of about -ten thousand men on the Western Front. Well, we've all got to die some -day, and perhaps it's best to do it before we deteriorate too far. Don't -you think so?" - -Mr. Neilsen grunted morosely. He hated to be pestered by these gadflies -of the steamer. He particularly disliked this little Englishman with the -neat gray beard, not only because he was the head of an obnoxious bank -in Buenos Aires, but because he would persist in talking to him with a -ghoulish geniality about submarine operations and the subject of death. -Also, he was one of those hopeless people who had been led by the -wholesale slaughter of the war to thoughts of the possibility of a -future life. Apparently Mr. Pennyfeather had no philosophy, and his -spiritual being was groping for light through those materialistic fogs -which brood over the borderlands of science. His wife was even more -irritating; for she, too, was groping, chiefly because of the fashion; -and they both insisted on talking to Mr. Neilsen about it. They had -quite spoiled his breakfast this morning. He did not resent it on -spiritual grounds, for he had none; but he did resent it because it -reminded him of his mortality, and also because a professional quack -does not like to be bothered by amateurs. - -Mrs. Pennyfeather approached him now on the other side. She was a faded -lady with hair dyed yellow, and tortoise-shell spectacles. - -"Have you ever had your halo read, Mr. Neilsen?" she asked with a sickly -smile. - -"No. I don't believe in id," he said gruffly. - -"But surely you believe in the spectrum," she continued with a ghastly -inconsequence that almost curdled the logic in his German brain. - -"Certainly," he replied, trying hard to be polite. - -"And therefore in specters," she cooed ingratiatingly, as if she were -talking to a very small child. - -"Nod at all! Nod at all!" he exploded somewhat violently, while Mr. -Pennyfeather, on the other side, came to his rescue, sagely repudiating -the methods of his wife. - -"No, no, my dear! I don't think your train of thought is quite correct -there. My wife and I are very much interested in recent occult -experiments, Mr. Neilsen. We've been wondering whether you wouldn't join -us one night, round the ouija board." - -"Id is all nonsense to me," said Mr. Neilsen, gesticulating with both -arms. - -"Quite so; very natural. But we got some very curious results last -night," continued Mr. Pennyfeather. "Most extraordinary. The purser was -with us, and he thought it would interest you. I wish you would join -us." - -"I should regard id as gomplete waste of time," said Mr. Neilsen. - -"Surely, nothing can be waste of time that increases our knowledge of -the bourne from which no traveler returns," replied the lyric lips of -Mrs. Pennyfeather. - -"To me the methods are ridiculous," said Mr. Neilsen. "All this -furniture removal! Ach!" - -"Ah," said Mr. Pennyfeather, "you should read What's-his-name. You know -the chap, Susan. Fellow that said it's like a shipwrecked man waving a -shirt on a stick to attract attention. Of course it's ridiculous! But -what else can you do if you haven't any other way of signaling? Why, man -alive! You'd use your trousers, wouldn't you, if you hadn't anything -else? And the alternative--drowning--remember--drowning beneath what -Thingumbob calls 'the unplumbed salt, estranging sea.'" - -"Eggscuse me," said Mr. Neilsen; "I have some important business with -the captain. I must go." - -Mr. Neilsen had been trying hard to make up his mind, despite these -irrelevant interruptions. He had received no assurance by wireless, and -he had convinced himself that even if he did receive one it would be -wiser to inform the captain. But there were many difficulties in the -way. He had taken great care never to do anything that might lead to the -death penalty--that is to say, among nations less civilized than his -own. But there was that affair of the code. It might make things very -unpleasant. A dozen other suspicious circumstances would have to be -explained away. A dozen times he had hesitated, as he did this morning. -He met the captain at the foot of the bridge. - -"Ah, Mr. Neilsen," said Captain Abbey with great cordiality, "you're the -very man I want to see. We're 'aving a little concert to-night in the -first-class dining room on behalf of the wives and children of the -British mine sweepers and the auxiliary patrols. You see, though this is -a neutral ship, we depend upon them more or less for our safety. I -thought it would be pleasant if you--as a neutral--would say just a few -words. I understand that they've rescued a good many Swedish crews from -torpedoed ships; and whatever view we may take of the war we 'ave to -admit that these little boats are doing the work of civilization." - -Mr. Neilsen thought he saw an opportunity of ingratiating himself, and -he seized it. He could broach the other matter later on. "I vill do my -best, captain." - -"'Ere is a London newspaper that will tell you all about their work." - -Mr. Neilsen retired to his stateroom and studied the newspaper -fervently. - -The captain took the chair that evening, and he did it very well. He -introduced Mr. Neilsen in a few appropriate words; and Mr. Neilsen spoke -for nearly five minutes, in English, with impassioned eloquence and a -rapidly deteriorating accent. - -"Dese liddle batrol boads," he said in his peroration, "how touching to -the heart is der vork! Some of us forget ven ve are safe on land how -much ve owe to them. But no matter vot your nationality, ven you are on -the high seas, surrounded with darkness and dangers, not knowing ven you -shall be torpedoed, vot a grade affection you feel then to dese liddle -batrol boads! As a citizen of Sweden I speak vot I _know_. The ships of -my guntry have suffered much in dis war. The sailors of my guntry have -been thrown into the water by thousands through der submarines. But dese -liddle batrol boads, they save them from drowning. They give them -blankets and hot goffee. They restore them to their veeping mothers." - -Mr. Neilsen closed amid tumultuous applause, and when the collection was -taken up by Miss Depew his contribution was the largest of the evening. - -The rest of the entertainment consisted chiefly of music and recitation. -Mr. Pennyfeather contributed a song, composed by himself. Typewritten -copies of the words were issued to the audience; and a very fat and -solemn Spaniard accompanied him with thunderous chords on the piano. -Every one joined in the chorus; but Mr. Neilsen did not like the song at -all. It was concerned with Mr. Pennyfeather's usual gruesome subject; -and he rolled it out in a surprisingly rich barytone with the gusto of a -schoolboy: - - _If they sink us we shall be - All the nearer to the sea! - That's no hardship to deplore! - We've all been in the sea before._ - - _Chorus_: - - _And then we'll go a-rambling, - A-rambling, a-rambling, - With all the little lobsters - From Frisco to the Nore._ - - _If we swim it's one more tale, - Round the hearth and over the ale; - When your lass is on your knee, - And love comes laughing from the sea._ - - _Chorus_: - - _And then we'll go a-rambling, - A-rambling, a-rambling, - A-rambling through the roses - That ramble round the door._ - - _If we drown, our bones and blood - Mingle with the eternal flood. - That's no hardship to deplore! - We've all been in the sea before._ - - _Chorus_: - - _And then we'll go a-rambling, - A-rambling, a-rambling, - The road that Jonah rambled - And twenty thousand more._ - -"Now," said Mr. Pennyfeather, holding out his hands like the conductor -of a revival meeting, "all the ladies, very softly, please." - -The solemn Spaniard rolled his great black eyes at the audience, and -repeated the refrain _pianissimo_, while the silvery voices caroled: - - _With all the little lobsters - From Frisco to the Nore._ - -"Now, all the gentlemen, please," said Mr. Pennyfeather. The Spaniard's -eyes flashed. He rolled thunder from the piano, and Mr. Neilsen found -himself bellowing with the rest of the audience: - - _The road that Jonah rambled - From Hull to Singapore, - And twenty thousand, thirty thousand, - Forty thousand, fifty thousand, - Sixty thousand, seventy thousand, - Eighty thousand more!_ - -It was an elaborate conclusion, accompanied by elephantine stampings of -Captain Abbey's feet; but Mr. Neilsen retired to his room in a state of -great depression. The frivolity of these people, in the face of his -countrymen, appalled him. - -On the next morning he decided to act, and sent a message to the captain -asking for an interview. The captain responded at once, and received -him with great cordiality. But the innocence of his countenance almost -paralyzed Mr. Neilsen's intellect at the outset, and it was very -difficult to approach the subject. - -"Do you see this, Mr. Neilsen?" said the captain, holding up a large -champagne bottle. "Do you know what I've got in this?" - -"Champagne," said Mr. Neilsen with the weary pathos of a logician among -idiots. - -"No, sir! Guess again." - -"Pilsener!" - -"No, sir! It's plain sea water. I've just filled it. I'm taking it 'ome -to my wife. She takes it for the good of 'er stummick, a small wineglass -at a time. She always likes me to fill it for her in mid-Atlantic. She's -come to depend on it now, and I wouldn't dare to go 'ome without it. I -forgot to fill it once till we were off the coast of Spain. And, would -you believe it, Mr. Neilsen, that woman knew! The moment she tasted it -she knew it wasn't the right vintage. Well, sir, we shall soon be in the -war zone now. But you are not looking very well, Mr. Neilsen. I 'ope -you've got a comfortable room." - -"I have reason to believe, captain, that there will be an attempt made -by the submarines to sink the _Hispaniola_," said Mr. Neilsen abruptly. - -"Nonsense, my dear sir! This is a neutral ship and we're sailing to a -neutral country, under explicit guarantees from the German Government. -They won't sink the _Hispaniola_ for the pleasure of killing her -superannuated English captain." - -"I have reason to believe they intended to--er--change their bolicy. I -was not sure of id till I opened my mail on the boad; but--er--I have a -friend in Buenos Aires who vas in glose touch--er--business -gonnections--with members of the German legation; he--er--advised me, -too late, I had better gancel my bassage. I fear there is no doubt they -vill change their bolicy." - -"But they couldn't. There ain't any policy! The Argentine Republic is a -neutral country. You can't make me believe they'd do a thing like that. -It wouldn't be honest, Mr. Neilsen. Of course, it's war-time; but the -German Government wants to be honorable, don't it--like any other -government?" - -"I don'd understand the reasons; but I fear there is no doubt aboud the -facts," said Mr. Neilsen. - -"Have you got the letter?" - -"No; I thought as you do, ad first, and I tore id up." - -"Was that why you wanted to get off and go back?" the captain inquired -mercilessly. - -"I gonfess I vas a liddle alarmed; but I thought perhaps I vas unduly -alarmed at the time. I gouldn't trust my own judgment, and I had no ride -to make other bassengers nervous." - -"That was very thoughtful of you. I trust you will continue to keep this -matter to yourself, for I assure you--though I consider the German -Government 'opelessly wrong in this war--they wouldn't do a dirty thing -like that. They're very anxious to be on good terms with the South -American republics, and they'd ruin themselves for ever." - -"But my information is they vill sink the ships vithoud leaving any -draces." - -"What do you mean? Pretend to be friendly, and then--Come, now! That's -an awful suggestion to make!" - -At these words Mr. Neilsen had a vivid mental picture of his -conversation with the bald-headed Englishman in Harrods'. - -"Do you mean," the captain continued, waxing eloquent, "do you mean -they'd sink the ships and massacre every blessed soul aboard, regardless -of their nationality? Of course I'm an Englishman, and I don't love 'em, -but that ain't even murder. That's plain beastliness. It couldn't be -done by anything that walks on two legs. I tell you what, Mr. Neilsen, -you're a bit overwrought and nervous. You want a little recreation. -You'd better join the party to-night in my cabin. Mr. and Mrs. -Pennyfeather are coming, and a very nice American girl--Miss Depew. -We're going to get a wireless message or two from the next world. Ever -played with the ouija board? Nor had I till this voyage; but I must say -it's interesting. You ought to see it, as a scientific man. I understand -you're interested in science, and you know there's no end of -scientists--big men too--taking this thing up. You'd better come. Half -past eight. Right you are!" - -And so Mr. Neilsen was ushered out into despair for the rest of the day, -and booked for an unpleasant evening. He had accepted the captain's -invitation as a matter of policy; for he thought he might be able to -talk further with him, and it was not always easy to secure an -opportunity. In fact, when he thought things over he was inclined to -feel more amiably toward the Pennyfeathers, who had put the idea of -psychical research into the captain's head. - -Promptly at half past eight, therefore, he joined the little party in -the captain's cabin. Miss Depew looked more Gibsonish than ever, and she -smiled at him bewitchingly; with a smile as hard and brilliant as -diamonds. Mrs. Pennyfeather looked like a large artificial -chrysanthemum; and she examined his black tie and dinner jacket with the -wickedly observant eye of a cockatoo. Three times in the first five -minutes she made his hand travel over his shirt front to find out which -stud had broken loose. They had driven him nearly mad in his stateroom -that evening, and he had turned his trunk inside out in the process of -dressing, to find some socks. - -Moreover, he had left his door unlocked. He was growing reckless. -Perhaps the high sentiments of every one on board had made him trustful. -If he had seen the purser exploring the room and poking under his berth -he might have felt uneasy, for that was what the purser was doing at -this moment. Mr. Neilsen might have been even more mystified if he had -seen the strange objects which the purser had laid, for the moment, on -his pillow. One of them looked singularly like a rocket, of the kind -which ships use for signaling purposes. But Mr. Neilsen could not see; -and so he was only worried by the people round him. - -Captain Abbey seemed to have washed his face in the sunset. He was -larger and more like a marine Weller than ever in his best blue and -gilt. And Mr. Pennyfeather was just dapper little Mr. Pennyfeather, with -his beard freshly brushed. - -"You've never been in London, Miss Depew?" said Captain Abbey -reproachfully, while the Pennyfeathers prepared the ouija board. "Ah, -but you ought to see the Thames at Westminster Bridge! No doubt the -Amazon and the Mississippi, considered as rivers, are all right in their -way. They're ten times bigger than our smoky old river at 'ome. But the -Thames is more than a river, Miss Depew. The Thames is liquid 'istory!" - -As soon as the ouija board was ready they began their experiment. Mr. -Neilsen thought he had never known anything more sickeningly -illustrative of the inferiority of all intellects to the German. He -tried the ouija board with Mrs. Pennyfeather, and the accursed thing -scrawled one insane syllable. - -It looked like "cows," but Miss Depew decided that it was "crows." Then -Mrs. Pennyfeather tried it with Captain Abbey; and they got nothing at -all, except an occasional giggle from the lady to the effect that she -didn't think the captain could be making his mind a blank. Then Mr. -Pennyfeather tried it with Miss Depew--with no result but the obvious -delight of that sprightly middle-aged gentleman at touching her polished -finger tips, and the long uneven line that was driven across the paper -by the ardor of his pressure. Finally Miss Depew--subduing the glint of -her smile slightly, a change as from diamonds to rubies, but hard and -clear-cut as ever--declared, on the strength of Mr. Neilsen's first -attempt, that he seemed to be the most sensitive of the party, and she -would like to try it with him. - -Strangely enough Mr. Neilsen felt a little mollified, even a little -flattered, by the suggestion. He was quite ready to touch the finger -tips of Miss Depew, and try again. She had a small hand. He could not -help remembering the legend that after the Creator had made the rosy -fingers of the first woman the devil had added those tiny, gemlike -nails; but he thought the devil had done his work, in this case, like an -expert jeweler. Mr. Neilsen was always ready to bow before efficiency, -even if its weapons were no more imposing than a manicure set. - -The ouija board was quiet for a moment or two. Then the pencil began to -move across the paper. Mr. Neilsen did not understand why. Miss Depew -certainly looked quite blank; and the movement seemed to be independent -of their own consciousness. It was making marks on the paper, and that -was all he expected it to do. - -At last Miss Depew withdrew her hand and exclaimed: "It's too -exhausting. Read it, somebody!" - -Mr. Pennyfeather picked it up, and laughed. - -"Looks to me as if the spirits are a bit erratic to-night. But the -writing's clear enough, in a scrawly kind of way. I'm afraid it's utter -nonsense." - -He began to read it aloud: - - "Exquisitely amusing! Uncle Hyacinth's little appendix----" - -At this moment he was interrupted. Mr. Neilsen had risen to his feet as -if he were being hauled up by an invisible rope attached to his neck. -His movement was so startling that Mrs. Pennyfeather emitted a faint, -mouselike screech. They all stared at him, waiting to see what he would -do next. - -But Mr. Neilsen recovered himself with great presence of mind. He drew a -handkerchief from his trousers pocket, as if he had risen only for that -purpose. Then he sat down again. - -"Bardon me," he said; "I thought I vas aboud to sneeze. Vat is the rest -of id?" - -He sat very still now, but his mouth opened and shut dumbly, like the -mouth of a fish, while Mr. Pennyfeather read the message through to the -end: - - "Exquisitely amusing! Uncle Hyacinth's little appendix cut out. - Throat enlarged. Consuming immense quantities pork sausages; also - onions wholesale. Best greetings. Fond love. Kisses." - -"I'm afraid they're playing tricks on us to-night," said Mr. -Pennyfeather. "They do sometimes, you know. Or it may be fragments of -two or three messages which have got mixed." - -"Hold on, though!" said the captain. "Didn't you send a wireless the -other day, Mr. Neilsen, to somebody by the name of Hyacinth?" - -"Well--ha! ha! ha! It was aboud somebody by that name. I suppose I must -have moved my hand ungonsciously. I've been thinking aboud him a great -deal. He's ill, you see." - -"How very interestin'," cooed Mrs. Pennyfeather, drawing her chair -closer. "Have you really an uncle named Hyacinth? Such a pretty name for -an elderly gentleman, isn't it? Doesn't the rest of the message mean -anything to you, then, Mr. Neilsen?" - -He stared at her, and then he stared at the message, licking his lips. -Then he stared at Captain Abbey and Miss Depew. He could read nothing in -their faces but the most childlike amusement. The thing that chilled his -heart was the phrase about onions. He could not remember the meaning, -but it looked like one of those innocent commercial phrases that had -been embodied in the code. Was it possible that in his agitation he had -unconsciously written this thing down? - -He crumpled up the paper and thrust it into his side pocket. Then he -sniggered mirthlessly. Greatly to his relief the captain began talking -to Miss Depew, as if nothing had happened, about the Tower of London; -and he was able to slip away before they brought the subject down to -modern times. - - -III - -Mr. Neilsen may have been a very skeptical person. Perhaps his intellect -was really paralyzed by panic, for the first thing he did on reaching -his stateroom that night was to get out the code and translate the -message of the ouija board. It was impossible that it should mean -anything; but he was impelled by something stronger than his reason. He -broke into a cold sweat when he discovered that it had as definite a -meaning as any of the preceding messages; and though it was not the kind -of thing that would have been sent by wireless he recognized that it was -probably far nearer the truth than any of them. This is how he -translated it: - - "Imperative sink _Hispaniola_ after treacherous threat. Wiser - sacrifice life. Otherwise death penalty inevitable. Flight abroad - futile. Enviable position. Fine opportunity hero." - -He could not understand how this thing had happened. Was it possible -that in great crises an agitated mind two thousand miles away might -create a corresponding disturbance in another mind which was -concentrated on the same problem? Had he evolved these phrases of the -code out of some subconscious memory and formed them into an -intelligible sentence? Trickery was the only other alternative, and that -was out of the question. All these people were of inferior intellect. -Besides, they were in the same peril themselves; and obviously ignorant -of it. His code had never been out of his possession. Yet he felt as if -he had been under the microscope. What did it mean? He felt as if he -were going mad. - -He crept into his berth in a dazed and blundering way, like a fly that -has just crawled out of a honey pot. After an hour of feverish tossing -from side to side he sank into a doze, only to dream of the bald-headed -man in Harrods' who wanted to sell him a safety waistcoat, the exact -model of the one that saved Lord Winchelsea. The most hideous series of -nightmares followed. He dreamed that the sides of the ship were -transparent, and that he saw the periscopes of innumerable submarines -foaming alongside through the black water. He could not cry out, though -he was the only soul aboard that saw them, for his mouth seemed to be -fastened with official sealing wax--black sealing wax--stamped with the -German eagle. Then to his horror he saw the quick phosphorescent lines -of a dozen torpedoes darting toward the _Hispaniola_ from all points of -the compass. A moment later there was an explosion that made him leap, -gasping and fighting for breath, out of his berth. But this was not a -dream. It was the most awful explosion he had ever heard, and his room -stank of sulphur. He seized the cork jacket that hung on his wall, -pulled his door open and rushed out, trying to fasten it round him as he -went. - -When the steward arrived, with the purser, they had the stateroom to -themselves; and after the former had thrown the remains of the rocket -through the porthole, together with the ingenious contrivance that had -prevented it from doing any real damage under Mr. Neilsen's berth, the -purser helped him with his own hands to carry the brass-bound trunk down -to his office. - -"We'll tell him that his room was on fire and we had to throw the -contents overboard. We'll give him another room and a suit of old -clothes for to-morrow. Then we can examine his possessions at leisure. -We've got the code now; but there may be lots of other things in his -pockets. That's right. I hope he doesn't jump overboard in his fright. -It's lucky that we warned these other staterooms. It made a hellish row. -You'd better go and look for him as soon as we get this thing out of the -way." - -But it was easier to look for Mr. Neilsen than to find him. The steward -ransacked the ship for three-quarters of an hour, and he began to fear -that the worst had happened. He was peering round anxiously on the boat -deck when he heard an explosive cough somewhere over his head. He looked -up into the rigging as if he expected to find Mr. Neilsen in the -crosstrees; but nobody was to be seen, except the watch in the crow's -nest, dark against the stars. - -"Mr. Neilsen!" he called. "Mr. Neilsen!" - -"Are you galling me?" a hoarse voice replied. It seemed to come out of -the air, above and behind the steward. He turned with a start, and a -moment later he beheld the head of Mr. Neilsen bristling above the -thwarts of Number Six boat. He had been sitting in the bottom of the -boat to shelter himself from the wind, and some symbolistic Puck had -made him fasten his cork jacket round his pyjamas very firmly, but -upside down, so that he certainly would have been drowned if he had been -thrown into the water. - -"It's all right, Mr. Neilsen," said the steward. "The danger is over." - -"Are ve torpedoed?" The round-eyed visage with the bristling hair was -looking more and more like Bismarck after a debauch of blood and iron, -and it did not seem inclined to budge. - -"No, sir! The shock damaged your room a little, but we must have left -the enemy behind. You had a lucky escape, sir." - -"My Gott! I should think so, indeed! The ship is not damaged in any -vay?" - -"No, sir. There was a blaze in your room, and I'm afraid they had to -throw all your things overboard. But the purser says he can rig you out -in the morning; and we have another room ready for you." - -"Then I vill gum down," said Mr. Neilsen. And he did so. His bare feet -paddled after the steward on the cold wet deck. At the companionway they -met the shadowy figure of the captain. - -"I'm afraid you've 'ad an unpleasant upset, Mr. Neilsen," he said. - -"Onbleasant! It vos derrible! Derrible! But you see, captain, I vas -correct. And this is only the beginning, aggording to my information. I -hope now you vill take every bre-caution." - -"They must have mistaken us for a British ship, Mr. Neilsen, I'm afraid. -I'm having the ship lighted up so that they can't mistake us again. You -see? I've got a searchlight playing on the Argentine flag aloft; and -we've got the name of the ship in illuminated letters three feet high, -all along the hull. They could read it ten miles away. Come and look!" - -Mr. Neilsen looked with deepening horror. - -"But dis is madness!" he gurgled. "The _Hispaniola_ is marked, I tell -you, marked, for gomplete destruction!" - -The captain shook his head with a smile of skepticism that withered Mr. -Neilsen's last hope. - -"Very vell, then I should brefer an inside cabin this time." - -"Yes. You don't get so much fresh air, of course; but I think it's -better on the 'ole. If we're torpedoed we shall all go down together. -But you're safer from gunfire in an inside room." - -The unhappy figure in pyjamas followed the steward without another word. -The captain watched him with a curious expression on his broad red face. -He was not an unkindly man; and if this German in the cork jacket had -not been so ready to let everybody else aboard drown he might have felt -the sympathy for him that most people feel toward the fat cowardice of -Falstaff. But he thought of the women and children, and his heart -hardened. - -As soon as Mr. Neilsen had gone below, the lights were turned off, and -the ship went on her way like a shadow. The captain proceeded to send -out some wireless messages of his own. In less than an hour he received -an answer, and almost immediately the ship's course was changed. - -It was a strange accident that nobody on board seemed to have any -clothes that would fit Mr. Neilsen on the following day. He appeared at -lunch in a very old suit, which the dapper little Mr. Pennyfeather had -worn out in the bank. Mr. Neilsen was now a perfect illustration of the -schooldays of Prince Blood and Iron, at some period when that awful -effigy had outgrown his father's pocket and burst most of his buttons. -But his face was so haggard and gray that even the women pitied him. At -four o'clock in the afternoon the captain asked him to come up to the -bridge, and began to put him out of his misery. - -"Mr. Neilsen," he said, "I'm afraid you've had a very anxious voyage; -and, though it's very unusual, I think in the circumstances it's only -fair to put you on another ship if you prefer it. You'll 'ave your -chance this evening. Do you see those little smudges of smoke out -yonder? Those are some British patrol boats; and if you wish I'm sure I -can get them to take you off and land you in Plymouth. There's a statue -of Sir Francis Drake on Plymouth 'Oe. You ought to see it. What d'you -think?" - -Mr. Neilsen stared at him. Two big tears of gratitude rolled down his -cheeks. - -"I shall be most grateful," he murmured. - -"They're wonderful little beggars, those patrol boats," the captain -continued. "Always on the side of the angels, as you said so feelingly -at the concert. They're the police of the seas. They guide and guard us -all, neutrals as well. They sweep up the mines. They warn us. They pilot -us. They pick us up when we're drowning; and, as you said, they give us -'ot coffee; in fact, these little patrol boats are doing the work of -civilization. Probably you don't like the British very much in Sweden, -but--" - -"I have no national brejudices," Mr. Neilsen said hastily. "I shall -indeed be most grateful." - -"Very well, then," said the captain; "we'll let 'em know." - -At half past six, two of the patrol boats were alongside. They were the -_Auld Robin Gray_ and the _Ruth_; and they seemed to be in high feather -over some recent success. - -Mr. Neilsen was mystified again when he came on deck, for he could have -sworn that he saw something uncommonly like his brass-bound trunk -disappearing into the hold of the _Auld Robin Gray_. He was puzzled also -by the tail end of the lively conversation that was taking place between -Miss Depew and the absurdly young naval officer, with the lisp, who was -in command of the patrols. - -"Oh, no! I'm afraid we don't uth the dungeonth in the Tower," said that -slender youth, while Miss Depew, entirely feminine and smiling like a -morning glory now, noted all the details of his peaked cap and the gold -stripes on his sleeve. "We put them in country houtheth and feed them -like fighting cockth, and give them flower gardenth to walk in." - -He turned to Captain Abbey joyously, and lisped over Mr. Neilsen's head: - -"That wath a corking metthage of yourth, captain. I believe we got three -of them right in the courth you would have been taking to-day. You'll -hear from the Admiralty about thith, you know. It wath magnifithent! -Good-bye!" - -He saluted smartly, and taking Mr. Neilsen tightly by the arm helped -him down to the deck of the _Ruth_. - -"Good-by and good luck!" called Captain Abbey. - -He beamed over the bulwarks of the _Hispaniola_ like a large red harvest -moon through the thin mist that began to drift between them. - -"Good-by, Mr. Neilsen!" called Mr. and Mrs. Pennyfeather, waving -frantically. - -"Good-by, Herr Krauss!" said Miss Depew; and the dainty malice in her -voice pierced Mr. Neilsen like a Röntgen ray. - -But he recovered quickly, for he was of an elastic disposition. He was -already looking forward to the home comforts which he knew would be -supplied by these idiotic British for the duration of the war. - -The young officer smiled and saluted Miss Depew again. He was a very -ladylike young man, Mr. Neilsen had thought, and an obvious example of -the degeneracy of England. But Mr. Neilsen's plump arm was still bruised -by the steely grip with which that lean young hand had helped him -aboard, so his conclusions were mixed. - -The engines of the _Ruth_ were thumping now, and the _Hispaniola_ was -melting away over the smooth gray swell. They watched her for a minute -or two, till she became spectral in the distance. Then the youthful -representative of the British Admiralty turned, like a thoughtful host, -to his prisoner. - -"Would you like thum tea?" he lisped sympathetically. "Your Uncle -Hyathinth mutht have given you an awfully anxiouth time." - -Herr Krauss grunted inarticulately. He was looking like a very happy -little Bismarck. - - - - -III - -THE CREATIVE IMPULSE - - -Undoubtedly Captain Julius Vandermeer had made a pile of money. A Dutch -sea-captain who had been the chief owner of his vessel in the first two -years of the war was a lucky dog. A couple of voyages might bring him -more than he could hope to make in half a century of peace. If he were -lucky enough to make forty or fifty successful voyages across the -Atlantic he could do exactly what Captain Vandermeer had done--retire -from the sea, invest his money, look for a handsome young wife, and -expect the remainder of his years to mellow round him like an orchard, -dropping all the most pleasant fruits of life at his feet. Best of all, -despite the gray streaks in his bushy red beard, he was only half-way -through the forties, and he knew how to enjoy himself. - -He sat on the veranda of his white bungalow under the foothills of the -Sierra Madre, puffing at his big meerschaum pipe and explaining these -things to the lady whom he had just married. - -"Long ago I settled it in my mind, Mimika," he said, "if ever I came to -be rich there should only be one country in the world for me, and that -should be Southern California. Look at it!" - -He waved the stem of his pipe at the broad slopes below. As far as the -eye could see, from the petals that dropped over the dainty little -electric car before the porch, to the distant horizon, they were one -gorgeous pattern of fruit trees in blossom. Masses of white and pink -bloom surged like foam against the veranda; and the soft wind blowing -across that odorous wilderness was like the whisper of wings at sunset -in Eden. Behind the windows of the dining room a Chinese manservant -glided to and fro like a blue shadow. - -"Man lives by contrast, Mimika," Vandermeer continued. "For a quarter of -a century salt water was all my world. Now I have chosen seas of peach -blossom; and no danger of shipwreck, heh? Ah, but it smells fine, -Mimika--fine! When I saw my fortune coming I asked a friend in New York -what was the place out of all the world where a man might live most -happily, most healthily, in the most beautiful climate, to the age of -ninety or even to the age of a hundred, enjoying himself also. 'Southern -California,' he said. At once I knew that my friend was right. I -remembered San Diego when I was a boy, and the roses tumbling at my feet -on Christmas Day. I remembered the women, Mimika; and the cantaloupe -melons, cut in halves, with the ice melting in their lovely yellow -hearts; and as soon as the money was in the bank I took the train to the -City of the Angels. Los Angeles--what a name, heh? In three weeks I had -found my ranch with its beautiful bungalow, waiting like a palace for -its queen. In six months I had found the queen, Mimika, heh?" - -Mimika rose from her rocking-chair, remarking, "Now listen, Julius!" -This did not mean that she had anything of great importance to say. But -she had a trick, which Vandermeer found fascinating, of prefacing most -of her remarks with the command to listen. "Listen, Julius! You won't -come down with me to meet Roy?" she said. - -"No, Mimika, no. The little sister will have much to tell her brother -when she sees him for the first time after--how long has he been in -Europe? Two years? And she will have to tell him all about her -honeymoon, heh?" He pinched her ear playfully as she stooped to kiss -him. - -"I guess Roy will open his eyes when he sees my electric," she said. - -She went down to the car in a skipping walk, while Captain Vandermeer -surveyed her with the eye of one who has found a prize. She was wearing -a Panama hat, a sweater of emerald green, and a very short yellow skirt -that fluttered round her yellow silk stockings like the petals of a -California poppy. This was not altogether out of keeping with the blaze -of the landscape; but her high-heeled white shoes prevented her from -walking gracefully; and this was really a pity, for she could dance like -a wave of the sea if she chose. Sadder still, her nose was as white with -powder as if she had dipped it into a bag of meal and her lips looked as -if she had been eating damson jam. This was more pathetic than comic, -because in its natural state her face was pretty as a wild flower. - -Captain Vandermeer sat blowing rings of blue smoke for a minute or two -longer. Then he entered the bungalow and went to a room at the back of -the house which he had reserved as his own den. It was a very bare room -at present, chiefly furnished by the bright new safe which he now -proceeded to unlock. - -He drew out a bundle of papers and examined them with loving care. There -were American railroad bonds to the value of fifty thousand dollars; -some Liberty Loan Bonds to the value of fifty thousand more; twenty-five -thousand dollars' worth of Anglo-French bonds; and the same amount of -the City of Paris, risky enough if the Germans were going to break -through, but he did not think they were, and they yielded more than ten -per cent. It was very wonderful, he thought, and he replaced them like a -man saying good night to his child. Then he drew out a chamois-leather -bag and poured the glittering contents into his left palm. He was a very -wise man in his generation. - -"You never know," he muttered--"you never know what will happen, in -these days, to bonds. These are perhaps the best investment of all. -These are the reserves of my little army. It was a good idea to keep -them. Besides, you can put them in your pocket and go where you wish at -a moment's notice. It is not possible always to get money at once for -bonds." - -His face glowed with satisfaction as he put the bag in the safe and -locked it. - - * * * * * - -On the way up to the ranch from the railway station Mimika had been -chattering hard to her brother; but he noticed certain changes in her -appearance with a feeling akin to remorse. He was not at all sure that -she was really happy, despite her apparent enthusiasm over what she -called the generosity of Julius. He wished that his mother had delayed -things till he had returned from Europe; and he could not help wondering -how far his failure to send home more than two-thirds of his own scanty -income as a newspaper correspondent had contributed to the haste of this -marriage. He had not been able to learn much about it. His mother was a -vague widow, who, like so many widows, regarded marriage with a kind of -ghostly detachment and a more than maidenly innocence. She was devoted -to Mimika, but quite ready, he feared, to sacrifice Mimika to himself. - -Roy himself had not had too easy a time in the last few years. He was -one of those not uncommon Americans who combine an extraordinary -knowledge of the world with the unworldliness and sometimes the -gullibility of an Eastern sage. He knew more about the cathedrals of -England than almost any Englishman; more about the châteaux of France -than most Frenchmen. He could have dictated an encyclopedia of useful -knowledge about Italy and Egypt. He had been a war correspondent in four -quarters of the globe, and he had acquired a sense of the larger -movements in politics that gave his opinions an unusual interest. He -flew over the big guns of international affairs like a man in an -air-plane; and, though his European hearers might not always like his -signals, they usually felt that he was looking beyond their horizon. But -his ambition was to do creative work, and he had not yet succeeded. He -marveled how some other men, without expending a tithe of his energy, -had produced a shelf of books while he was still taking his notes. He -never seemed to have the time for creation, and whenever he approached -any original work he gravitated toward the method of the newspaper -correspondent. He wondered sometimes whether this was due to a lack of -what he called the 'creative impulse.' One of the things to which he had -been looking forward on this visit was the opportunity that it would -give him of obtaining some first-hand material from a real live -sea-captain. Yet he was not sure whether he would ever be able to -transmute it into an original book. - -His boyish smile was in somewhat pathetic contrast with his -gold-spectacled, and curiously dreamy, yet overstrained eyes, which -sometimes gave his face in repose the expression of a youthful Buddha. -His frequent abrupt changes between a violently active life and an -almost completely sedentary one had not been good for him physically, -and he was subject to fits of depression, relieved by fits of extreme -optimism. - -If only Mimika were happy he thought he might feel very optimistic about -the material that Vandermeer could give him for the book he was -contemplating. Indeed already he could not help sharing a little in her -enthusiasm over her 'electric.' - -"And listen, Roy, we've got a marble swimming pool in the garden, all -surrounded with heliotropes," she concluded, almost breathless, as they -rolled up the long aisle of palms and pepper trees. - -"Is that so?" said Roy. "And you love him, Mimika?" - -"He's a dear," said Mimika. "And of course--" She was going to add that -Captain Vandermeer would do a great deal for Roy; but she had -misgivings, and checked herself. - -She had almost broached the subject to her lord this morning, and had -checked herself then, too, feeling instinctively that Vandermeer had -grown rich too recently for him to help any one but himself just at -present. - -The introduction of brother to husband went off very well indeed. -Vandermeer was so hearty, and held Roy's hand so affectionately, that -when they were getting ready for dinner Mimika ventured to approach the -subject again. - -"And listen, Julius, you'll be able to help Roy just a little, too, -won't you?" she said, putting her hands up to her hair before the mirror -in her bedroom. - -"What do you mean, Mimika, by help?" Vandermeer's voice rolled in a very -unsatisfactory way from the adjoining room. - -"Oh, of course there's only one kind of help Roy would accept," she -replied hastily. "He's going to write something about the sea, and he -thinks you might give him some hints." - -"Why, certainly, Mimika. They say there's a book in every man's life." -The voice was thoroughly hearty again now. "In mine I should say there -would be a hundred books. I will tell him some splendid things." - -Even more jovial was the mood of Julius Vandermeer that evening after -dinner; and he expanded his rosy views of the future to his -brother-in-law over their cigars and a steaming rum punch flavored with -lemon, which was his own invention for coping with the cold of a -California night. He called it his "smudge pot." - -"And now, Roy," he said at last, "I hope your own affairs go well. It is -a great thing, the gift of expression. I wish I had it. Ah, what books I -could write! The things I have seen, things you will never see in -print!" - -"That's precisely what I want to discuss with you, Julius. I have just -signed a contract with the Copley-Willard Publishing Company to write -them a serial dealing with the heroism of the merchant marine in -war-time. I don't mind confessing that I told them a little about -you--said you had no end of crackajack material I could use. The result -was the best contract I've yet made with any publisher; so I owe that to -you. The Star News Company was very well satisfied with my record as a -correspondent; but I bungled the contract with them. If I can put this -thing through it means that I shan't be a poor relation much longer. Now -if you can only give me a good subject and put me wise on the seamanship -and help me to get the local color, the rest will be as easy as falling -off a log. You must have had a good many experiences, for instance, with -the submarines, when you were crossing the Atlantic twice a month." - -"Experiences--why, yes, many experiences; but my good fortune -comes--well--from my good fortune. I am like the happy nation. I have -not had much history for these two years. But I have seen things--oh, -yes, I have seen things--that were like what you call clues--clues to -many strange tales." - -"That's precisely what I want--a rattling good clue!" - -"Well now, let me think. There were some interesting things about those -big merchant submarines that the Germans sent at one time across the -Atlantic." - -"Like the _Deutschland_, you mean?" - -"Yes; and there were others, never mentioned in the newspapers. One or -two of them disappeared. Perhaps the British destroyed them. Nobody -knows. But it was reported that one of them was carrying a million -dollars' worth of diamonds to the United States. Think of that, Roy! A -submarine full of diamonds! Doesn't that kindle your imagination?" - -"Gee! I should say it would!" remarked Mimika, putting down the highly -colored magazine in which she had been studying the latest New York -fashions. - -"Depends what happened to it," said Roy. - -"Come, then, I will tell you a little story," said Vandermeer; "but you -must not mention my name about this one. How did I come to know it? Ah, -perhaps by some strange accident I met the only man who could tell the -truth about it. Perhaps I was able to do him some small service. In any -case that is a different matter. This story must be your own, Roy. It -shall come from what you call your creative impulse." - -Mimika plumped down on a cushion at her lord's feet to listen. He patted -her shoulder affectionately with his big left paw, which showed up in a -somewhat startling contrast with its rough skin and long red hairs -against that smooth whiteness. With his right hand he filled himself the -third glass of rum punch that he had taken that evening. He smacked his -lips between two sips. - -"Help yourself, Roy," he said, "and take another cigar. Yes, I will tell -you. Take a sip, Mimika. That is good, heh? Now I shall need no more -sugar. - -"Well, Roy, just imagine. This big merchant submarine leaves Hamburg -loaded with diamonds! A million dollars' worth of diamonds, all going to -the United States, because it is necessary that Germany shall pay some -of her bills. There is a crew of only twenty men, because they need them -for the U-boats. All of these men are sulky, rebellious. They have been -forced to do this work against their will. They were happy on their -ships in the Kiel Canal, except that there was always the chance of -being picked for submarine duty. When they are lined up for that--ah, it -is like waiting to be named for the guillotine, in the Reign of Terror! -They have courage, but their hands shake, their lips are blue and their -hearts are sick. It is the death sentence. Either this week, or the -next, or the next they will be missing. Certainly in eight weeks their -places must be filled again. They are just fishes' food. Picture then -the choosing of these men. There is your first chapter, heh? - -"Now for the second. You must picture the captain. He is the most -rebellious of all, for his life has been spared longer than most, but -his life on the submarine is a living death. He is a good sailor, yes, -in any surface vessel; but in the first place the submarine makes him -sick at the stomach--the smells, the bad air, the joggle-joggle of the -engine, the lights turned down to save the batteries. All that depresses -him; and he has always the thought that, if one little thing goes wrong, -he will die like a man buried alive in a big steel coffin, with nineteen -others, all fighting for breath. It is a nightmare--the only nightmare -that ever frightened him." - -Captain Vandermeer certainly had a vivid imagination or else his own -creative impulse, aided by frequent draughts of rum punch, was carrying -him away; for his bulging blue eyes looked as if they would burst out of -their canary-lashed lids. - -"Moreover, this captain has been in a fighting submarine that has -shocked his nerves. He has grown used to scenes of death. He has come to -the surface and seen many scores of men and women drowning, and he has -watched them till he minds it no more than drowning flies. But twice he -has found himself entangled in a steel net, and escaped by miracle. That -is not so pleasant. When it was decided to send him to the United States -on a merchant submarine, what was his first thought? What would be -yours, Roy, in that position?" - -"A bedroom and bath at the hotel Vanderbilt," replied Roy promptly. - -"You follow the clue very well, my boy. You have a clever brother, -Mimika. The first thought of the captain is this: If I can get safely -through the ring of the enemy the rest of the voyage will not be so bad. -I shall make most of it on the surface, and I shall have a breathing -spell in a great city outside the war. That will make the second -chapter, heh? Now what is his next thought, Mimika?" - -"Why, listen! If I once got to New York I should want to stay there," -replied Mimika, helping herself to a large piece of candy. - -"Ah, what a clever sister you have, my dear Roy!" said Vandermeer, and -both his red streaked paws descended approvingly on Mimika's white -shoulders. "How beautifully we compose this tale together, heh? But he -has not yet reached America, and he has a submarine full of diamonds on -his hands; also a crew of twenty men; also his orders as an officer in -the German Navy. - -"Well, let us suppose he has come safely through the ring of the enemy, -after several nightmares. He runs on the surface almost always now, and -he is losing his bad dreams for a time. - -"One night he is on deck looking at the stars and thinking, who knows -what thoughts, when the youngest engineer, a nice little fellow, a -Bavarian, you might say, with flaxen hair and blue eyes, just as pretty -as a girl, comes up to him. His face is as white and smooth as Mimika's -shoulders--but there is no powder on it, heh? And his blue eyes are -frightened. - -"'Captain,' he says, 'I want to warn you. There is a plot among the men -to kill you.' - -"'To kill me!' the captain says. 'Why should they wish to kill me, -Otto?' - -"'They've gone crazy about the diamonds. They say they have had enough -of this life, and they will never go back to Germany. They mean to take -the diamonds and sell them a few at a time in America. Then they will -live like princes. They think I'm joining them.' - -"'Is there nobody but yourself on my side?' says the captain. - -"'Nobody now,' says Otto. - -"'Very well. Thank you, my boy. I will see that you are rewarded for -this. When are they going to do it?' - -"'When we are submerged and nearing the three-mile limit.' - -"'Thank you, Otto,' says the captain again. - -"And there's your third chapter; and your fourth, too, Roy--a dramatic -situation, heh?" - -Roy appeared to think so, and on the strength of it he filled -Vandermeer's glass again. He was anxious to help the creative impulse. - -"What follows?" continued Vandermeer. "In your tales to-day you must -have psychology. The captain is a clever man. What would you do in that -position, Roy? He cannot fight them all. I will tell you what he does. -He is a diplomatist. He shapes his policy, standing there on the deck of -the submarine all alone, under the stars. - -"The next evening he orders rum all round, just like this--good rum, -from his own little cask, which he keeps for the sake of his stomach. It -is a beautiful evening, a sea like oil, and the setting sun makes a road -of gold to the shores of America. They are approaching the happy land. -The men themselves are more cheerful, and like a good diplomatist he -seizes the cheerful moment. - -"Not only does he give them rum but he gives them cigars, also from his -private box--expensive cigars, just like these. - -"'I have a proposition to make,' he says. 'We are all sick of the war, -and I myself am more sick of it than anybody.' - -"They all stare at him, wondering what he will say next; and the little -Bavarian opens his blue eyes like a girl, and stares more than any of -them. He thinks perhaps the end of the world will come now. - -"'There is nobody here,' says the captain, 'that wishes to return. Why -should we return? There is a million dollars in diamonds aboard, enough -to make every one of us rich. We are going to the great republic. Good! -We will share equally. Every one of us shall have the same amount. I -myself, though I am your captain, will take no more than Otto. That will -be more than fifty thousand dollars for each one of us.' - -"Immediately the last of the clouds vanishes like magic from the crew. -There is nothing but smiles all round him, smiles and the smell of rum -and good cigars, just like these. They are all good comrades together, -shaking hands, except the little Bavarian. He is sitting back behind the -gyroscopic compass watching the captain, with big eyes and a solemn face -like the infant Saint John. - -"And why should they not all be satisfied--except the captain, who is -perhaps only pretending to be satisfied? They lose only a twentieth part -of their money by including him. On the other hand the captain loses a -million dollars, to which these robbers had no more right than you or -I." - -"I guess the little Bavarian was sorry he spoke," said Roy; and he -filled Vandermeer's glass again. - -"The little Bavarian was a child, an innocent. He had no will to power, -heh? He comes again to the captain late that night, on deck under the -stars. His face looks thin and miserable. 'Captain,' he says, 'did you -mean your words to those men?' - -"'What else could I say, Otto, to save the diamonds, and my life, and -perhaps yours? You do not understand diplomacy, Otto.' - -"The face of the little Bavarian grows brighter. 'Forgive me, my -captain!' he says. 'But I had begun to doubt even you, for a moment. I -was thinking of the Fatherland.' - -"Now, the captain was much obliged to Otto. His policy was complete in -his mind for fooling those robbers, and he would have been glad to save -this little Bavarian, who had warned him. But he begins to see an -obstacle. He thinks he will put this little fellow to the trial. - -"'Come now, Otto,' he says, 'it is very well to think of the Fatherland -if you and I could save it. But do you think a few hundred shining -pebbles will make any odds? These robbers shall not have them. But -supposing we share them, there is nobody in the Fatherland that would be -any poorer. They belong to the state, Otto, and if they should be shared -with every one in Germany not one man would be a pfennig the better. - -"'But see what a difference this would make to you and me! We are in a -state of necessity, Otto; and above that state there is no power, as the -Chancellor told the Reichstag. Very well, in this case I quote Louis the -Fourteenth: "_L'état, c'est moi_!" and Frederick the Great, also. Have I -the might to do it, Otto? Very well, then, according to the spokesman of -the Fatherland I have also the right.' - -"'I do not understand you, my captain,' says this little blue-eyed baby, -'but I know well that you mean to do right.' - -"'You shall have not fifty but a hundred thousand dollars' worth for -your share, Otto, because you have been faithful,' says the captain; -'but you must not think too many beautiful thoughts till we are safe on -shore. I have arranged everything in my mind. Go down and sleep.' - -"'For God's sake, captain,' cries this funny little fellow, dropping on -his knees, 'tell me what you mean to do!' And the tears begin to roll -down his face. - -"'It is not safe to trust you yet, Otto. You might talk in your sleep,' -says the captain. 'Do as I bid you. We shall see what we shall see.' - -"Very well, Roy, there is at least four chapters to be made from that, -heh? - -"We come now to the crisis. The submarine is nearing the end of her -voyage. They begin to see ships and they submerge. The captain has told -them, instead of making for New York he is heading for the coast of -Maine, where there will be better opportunities of destroying the -submarine and landing unobserved. It is about six o'clock in the -evening, when he peeks through the periscope. They are within a short -distance of the mainland, but they must lie on the bottom till midnight, -when it will be safer to go ashore. They are all very happy. Once more -he gives them rum all round, just like this, and advises them to sleep, -for they will get no sleep after midnight. - -"They sleep very soundly, all except the little Bavarian and the -captain. Why? Because the captain keeps the medicine chest as well as -the diamonds. If he had had something stronger in his medicine chest it -would have saved him much trouble and danger. - -"While they sleep the captain takes out the diamonds from the strong box -and puts them in his inside pockets. Then he examines the batteries. He -is an expert engineer. He can make the batteries work when every one -else thinks they are dead. Also he can make them die, so that even he -can never make them work again. He examines other parts of the -machinery--those which enable the submarine to rise to the surface. He -will not allow the little Bavarian to watch what he is doing. Then he -puts on his life-belt, and looks at the men snoring in their hammocks -and on the floor. Some of them are stirring in their sleep. There is no -time to lose or he may be interrupted. At last he is ready. The -submarine will never rise to the surface again, and the sea will never -betray the secret. - -"There is only one way for him to get out, and it is not a pleasant way. -But in his nightmares he has often rehearsed it, and he has always made -sure that it could be done before he went to sea. There must always be -a way out for one man at least, if not for more. '_L'état, c'est moi!_' - -"He beckons to the little Bavarian. 'I have all the diamonds in my -pocket,' he says. 'The time is come for you to help me, Otto.' - -"Now, Roy, you know what the conning tower of a submarine is like -inside? It is like a round chimney, with a lid at the top to keep out -the water when you are submerged. You can climb up into this conning -tower and steer the ship from it if you wish. There is also another lid -at the bottom of the conning tower, which you can close as well. Then if -you wish you can flood your chimney with water. - -"Now, if a submarine cannot rise to the surface, it is possible for a -man to climb into this conning tower. Another man then closes the lid -below and floods the tower very slowly. When the water reaches the head -of the man in the tower there is just enough pressure for him to push -open the lid at the top and shoot up to the surface. The lid at the top -can then be closed from the interior of the submarine. The lower lid can -be opened slowly, and the water from the tower pours out into the hull. -Then, perhaps, another man can climb up into the tower, and the process -can be repeated. There is room for only one man at a time. - -"The captain tells the little Bavarian that he is going to do this. -'But, my captain, it is very dangerous. You may be drowned. It is not -certain that you can open it. The pressure may be too great above.' - -"'It is for the Fatherland, Otto,' says the captain; and the little -Bavarian salutes, standing at attention, just like a pretty little wax -doll. - -"'When the men wake, you will be able to follow by the same road,' says -the captain, and he climbs up into the conning tower. - -"The lower lid is closed. The water begins to creep up round the -captain's knees in the darkness. He is horribly frightened. He has a -crowbar in his hand to help him to open the upper lid quickly, but he -still thinks perhaps it will not open. When the water has reached his -waist he begins to push at the upper lid, but it cannot move yet. The -weight of the whole sea above is pressing down. He knows it cannot move -but he cannot help pushing at it, till the sweat breaks out on him, -though the water is like ice. It is worse than he expected, worse than -any of his nightmares. The water reaches to his neck. He struggles with -all his strength, and still the lid will not move. A prayer comes to his -lips. The cold water creeps--creeps over his chin. There is only three -inches now between his face and the lid. He holds his head back to keep -his nostrils above the water, fighting, fighting always to open the lid. -Then the water covers his face. The conning tower is full. - -"He holds his breath, gives one last push, and feels the lid opening, -opening softly, like the big steel door of a safe in a bank. His crowbar -is wedged under the lid, between the hinges, just as he wished. In four -seconds he is shooting up, up to the surface, with his chest bursting, -like a diver that has seen a shark. - -"For a minute he floats there in the darkness, under the stars. -Then--perhaps the struggle has been greater even than he knew--he -faints. It is fortunate that his life-belt is a good one, for when he -recovers he has floated perhaps a long time. He is very cold. He takes a -drink of rum from his flask and gets his bearings. He is two miles from -the coast. Yes, but he is a clever man. There is one of those little -islands, covered with pine trees, just a hundred and fifty yards away. -There is also a wooden house on the island; and a landing stage with a -dinghy hauled up on the shore. - -"The owner of the boat is careful. He has taken his oars to bed with -him. But the captain is a clever man. It is a beautiful night. He has -plenty of time, and he can paddle with one of the loose boards in the -bottom of the dinghy." - -"But listen! What became of the little Bavarian?" said Mimika. - -"Well, I was not there to see," said Captain Vandermeer, lighting a -cigar, "but when the men woke they must all have tried to get out by the -same way." - -"And they couldn't?" asked Roy. He was watching Vandermeer with a very -curious expression--almost as if he were examining an eyewitness. - -"The captain was an expert engineer--ah, a magnificent engineer!--as I -told you, Roy, and there was a leetle crowbar wedged under what we have -been calling the lid of the conning tower." - -"Good God, what an idea! You mean they couldn't close the upper lid -again?" - -"They might think they had closed it." Vandermeer gave a deep guttural -chuckle. "Then they would open the lower lid, heh?" - -"And then?" - -"Why, then the sea would come running into the hull, and they would be -drowned." - -"Oh, but not the poor little Bavarian!" said Mimika. - -"_L'état, c'est moi_," said Vandermeer with a smile. - -Roy was looking at him still with the same pensive expression as of a -youthful Buddha. - -"I suppose he had no difficulty in getting rid of the diamonds," he -said. - -"Probably not," said Vandermeer. "Perhaps he would keep a few as a -reserve--a kind of Landsturm. But he would buy Liberty Bonds, heh?" - -"And you mean to say that a man like that is going about in the United -States now?" said Mimika. - -Vandermeer chuckled again. - -"Who knows?" he said. "Perhaps he has come to Southern California. -Perhaps he has bought a nice little ranch--a fruit ranch, just like -this, heh?--where he shall live a happy and healthy life to the age of a -hundred. And now, Mimika, it is getting time for little girls to go to -bed." - -About two o'clock in the morning Mimika was wakened by a guttural -choking cry from her husband. She was so startled that she slipped out -of bed and stood staring at him. The moon was flooding the room almost -like a searchlight, and Captain Vandermeer lay in the full stream of it. -While she watched him he rose slowly to a sitting posture, with his eyes -still shut and his hands clenched above his face. He began muttering to -himself, in a low voice at first, and then so loudly that it echoed -through the house; and the words sounded more like German than Dutch. -Then he began fighting for breath, like a man in a nightmare. He tore -his pyjama jacket open over the great red hairy chest. - -"Otto!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "Otto!" Then with a huge -sigh he sank back on the pillows, whispering "I have opened it." - -There was a tap on the door. Mimika snatched up a dressing gown, the -first garment she could lay her hands on--it happened to be -Vandermeer's--wrapped it round her, glided across the room and opened -the door. Her brother stood there, also in a dressing gown and -bare-footed. Their eyes met without a word. He took her hand, led her -outside and closed the door quietly behind them. - -"You heard him, Roy?" she whispered. - -"Come downstairs," he said. "I want to ask you some questions about -this." - -They went down to the den at the back of the house, and stood there -looking at each other's faces. - -"He told us a tale to-night," said Roy at last. - -"Yes," said Mimika faintly. - -"Do you know what he was calling out in his nightmare?" - -"It sounded like German," she said. - -"Yes, it was German; and it gave me a good deal more local color than I -expected. That was a true story all right, Mimika." - -"You mean that he--" - -"Yes." - -"Oh, but, Roy!" - -"That's his dressing gown you're wearing, isn't it?" - -"Yes, I picked it up in a hurry." - -"There's been too much hurry about everything, I'm afraid. Why the devil -did I go to Europe! Here, Mimika, take off that thing and put mine on. -I don't like to see you in it. It doesn't suit you, little sister." - -She obeyed him, with a small white frightened face; but it was not the -white of powder now. Roy thrust his hand into the pocket of Vandermeer's -dressing gown. Something jingled. He pulled out a bunch of keys. - -"Vandermeer told me I was good at following up a clue. I'm going to -follow one now, Mimika," he said. "This is the key of the safe." - -He opened the safe, looked hastily at the bundles of papers and then -pulled out the chamois leather bag. "Look here, Mimika!" he said and -poured a glittering river of diamonds, several hundred of them, on to -the table. The moonlight played over them with an uncanny brilliance. - -"That's his Landsturm," said Roy; "and that settles it." - -He took Mimika's hand, and she made no protest as he withdrew the -wedding ring from her finger and added it to the glittering heap on the -table. - -There was a heavy footstep in the room above. Vandermeer was awake and -moving about upstairs. The boards creaked over their heads, then they -heard his bedroom door open, and the heavy footsteps began to descend -the stairs. - -Mimika shrank behind her brother and both stood motionless, waiting. -They could hear the heavy breathing of Vandermeer, the breathing of a -man roused from a dyspeptic sleep. He came down with an intolerable -precision, making the twelve steps of that short descent seem almost -interminable. At every step Mimika felt the edges of her heart freezing. -At last that ugly rhythm reached the foot of the stairs; and with three -more shuffling steps, as of a gigantic ape, the hairy bulk of Vandermeer -stood in the doorway, facing them across the glittering mound of gems. -The sharp searchlight of the moon made his face corpselike, showing up -the puffy blue pouches under his eyes and picking out the coarse red -hairs of his bushy beard like strands of copper wire. His eyes -protruded, his mouth opened twice without any sound but the soft -smacking of his tongue as he tried to moisten his lips. - -"What are you doing here?" he said at last. - -"Looking at your Landsturm," said Roy with all the deadly calm of his -nation. - -Vandermeer swayed a little on his feet, like a drunken man. Then he -moved forward to the table and blinked at the diamonds and the gold ring -crowning them. - -"I don't understand," he said at last. - -"You'd better get dressed, Mimika," said Roy. "Our train goes at a -quarter after four." He led her to the door, watched her pathetic little -figure mounting the stairs and turned to Vandermeer again. - -Mimika never knew what passed between the two men. When she came out of -her room, ten minutes later, Roy was waiting, fully dressed, at the foot -of the stairs, with his suit case in his hand. She heard the heavy -breathing of Vandermeer in his den; and out of the corner of her eye as -they passed the door she saw that glowing mass on the table, as if a -fragment of the moon had been dropped there. - -They walked down the long avenue of palms in silence. In the -waiting-room at the station neither of them spoke till they heard the -long hoot of the approaching train, and the clangor of the bell on the -transcontinental locomotive. - -Six months later Mimika and her mother were sitting up for Roy, in their -fourth-floor flat near the offices of the Copley-Willard Publishing -Company, in Philadelphia. - -"I wish he didn't have to keep these late hours," said her mother. "I -thought that everything was turning out for the best when you were -married to Julius. I have never been able to understand why you got your -divorce so quickly. It was all kept so quiet, and you and Roy are so -mysterious about it. You've never even told me the real grounds, I'm -sure." - -"Yes, I did. It was desertion," said Mimika grimly. - -"Does nobody know what became of him? It seems so strange that he should -have gone away and left all the furniture in that house. He had some -lovely things too. I think you might at least have claimed the -furniture." - -"Please, mother, don't talk about that or we shall be making the same -mistake again. I expect he's shaved his beard by now." - -"Mimika, child, what do you mean? Are you crazy?" - -"I think we were both crazy, mother, a year ago." - -"Well, I thought it was all for your happiness, my pet," said her -mother, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. "I'm afraid it will be -a long time before you can marry this other young man, that Roy likes so -much. He isn't earning half so good a salary as Roy." - -"I don't know that I'm going to marry any one, mother. But listen! I -feel like marrying the first good American that comes to me with a piece -of the original _Mayflower_ in his buttonhole." - -And, this time, her mother almost listened. - - - - -IV - -THE MAN FROM BUFFALO - - -The patrol boats had been buffeting their way all night against wind and -weather, and before daybreak the long line had lost its order. It was -broken up now into little wandering loops and sections, busily comparing -notes by Morse flashes and wireless. Last evening the _Morning Glory_, a -converted yacht of American ownership, had been working with forty -British trawlers; and her owner, Matthew Hudson, who had obtained -permission to go out with her on this trip, had watched with admiration -the way in which they strung themselves over twenty miles of confused -sea, keeping their exact distances till nightfall. This morning, as he -lurched in gleaming oilskins up and down the monkey house--irreverent -name for his canvas-screened bridge--he could see only three of his -companions--the _Dusty Miller_, the _Christmas Day_ and the _Betsey -Barton_. - -They were all having a lively time. They swooped like herring gulls into -the broad troughs of the swell, where the black water looked like liquid -marble with white veins of foam in it. Morning-colored rainbows dripped -from their bows as they rose again through the green sunlit crests. But -the _Morning Glory_ was the brightest and the liveliest of them all. The -seas had been washing her decks all night. Little pools of color shone -in the wet, crumpled oilskins of the crew, and the tarpaulin that -covered the gun in her bow gleamed like a cloak dropped there by the -Angel of the Dawn. - - _When like the morning mist in early day - Rose from the foam the daughter of the sea----_ - -Matthew Hudson quoted to himself. He was full of poetry this morning -while he waited for his breakfast; and the radiant aspect of the weapon -in the bow reminded him of something else--if the smell of the frying -bacon would not blow his way and distract his mind--something about -"celestial armories." Was it Tennyson or Milton who had written it? -There was a passage about guns in "Paradise Lost." He must look it up. - -Like many Americans, Matthew Hudson was quicker to perceive the true -romance of the Old Country than many of its own inhabitants. He had been -particularly interested in the names of the British trawlers. "It's like -seeing Shakespeare's Sonnets or Percy's Reliques of Ancient English -Poetry going out to fight," he had written to his son, who had just left -Princeton to join the Mosquito Fleet; and the youngster had replied with -a sonnet of his own. - -Matthew Hudson had carried it about with him and read it to English -statesmen, greatly to their embarrassment--most of them looked as if -they were receiving a proposal of marriage--and he had found a huge -secret joy in their embarrassment, which, as he said, "tickled him to -death." But he murmured the verses to himself now, with paternal pride, -thinking that the boy had really gone to the heart of the matter: - - _Out of Old England's inmost heart they go, - A little fleet of ships, whose every name-- - Daffodil, Sea Lark, Rose, and Surf, and Snow-- - Burns in this blackness like an altar flame._ - - _Out of her past they sail, three thousand strong-- - The people's fleet, that never knew its worth; - And every name is a broken phrase of song - To some remembered loveliness on earth._ - - _There's Barbara Cowie, Comely Bank and May, - Christened at home, in worlds of dawn and dew. - There's Ruth, and Kindly Light, and Robin Gray, - With Mizpah. May that simple prayer come true!_ - - _Out of Old England's inmost heart they sail, - A fleet of memories that can never fail._ - -At this moment the _Morning Glory_ ran into a bank of white mist, which -left him nothing to see from the bridge. The engines were slowed down -and he decided that it was time for breakfast. - -The cabin where he breakfasted with the skipper was very little changed, -except that it seemed by contrast a little more palatial than in peace -time. There had been many changes on the exterior of the ship. Her white -and gold had been washed over with service gray, and many beautiful -fittings had been removed to make way for grimmer work. But within there -were still some corners of the yacht that shone like gems in a setting -of lead. - -The _Morning Glory_ had been a very beautiful boat. She had been built -for summer cruising among the pine-clad islands off the coast of Maine, -or to carry her master down to the palms of his own little island off -the coast of Florida, where he basked for a month or so among the -ripening oranges, the semitropical blossoms and the cardinal birds, -while Buffalo cleared the worst of the snow from her streets. For -Matthew Hudson was a man of many millions, which he had made in almost -the only country where millions can be made honestly and directly out of -its enormous natural resources. - -His own method had been a very simple one, though it required great -organizing ability and a keen eye and brain at the outset. All he had -done was to harness a river at the right place and make it drive a -light-and-power plant. But he had done it on a scale that enabled him, -from this one central station, to drive all the electric trolleys and -light all the lamps in more than a hundred cities. He could supply all -the light and all the power they wanted to cities a hundred miles away -from his plant, and he talked of sending it three hundred miles farther. - -Now that the system was established, it worked as easily as the river -flowed; and his power house was a compact little miracle of efficiency. -All that the casual visitor could see was a long, quiet room, in which -it seemed that a dozen clocks were slumbrously ticking. These were the -indicators, from the dials of which the amount of power distributed over -a district as big as England could be read by the two leisurely men on -duty. In the meantime, night and day, the river poured power of another -kind into the treasury of Matthew Hudson. - -But his life was as unlike that of the millionaires of fiction as could -be imagined. It reminded one of the room with the slumbrous clocks. - -He was, indeed, as his own men described it, preeminently the "man -behind the gun." When the _Morning Glory_ had been accepted by the naval -authorities he had obtained permission to equip her for her own work in -European waters at his own cost, and to make certain experiments in the -equipment. - -The Admiralty had not looked with favor on some of his ideas, which were -by no means suitable for general use in the patrol fleet. But Matthew -Hudson had too many weapons at work against Germany for them to deny -him a sentimental pleasure in his own yacht. He seemed to have some -particular purpose of his own in carrying out his ideas; and so it came -about that the _Morning Glory_ was regarded among her companions as a -mystery-ship. - -The two men breakfasted in silence. They were both drowsy, for there had -been a U-boat alarm during the night, which had kept them very much -awake; but Hudson was roused from his reverie over the second rasher by -a loud report, followed by a confused shouting above and the stoppage of -the engines. - -"That's not a submarine!" said the skipper. "What the devil is it?" And -the two men rushed on deck. - -The mist had lifted a little; and, looming out of it, a few hundred -yards away, there was something that looked, at first glance, like a -great gray reef. For a fraction of a moment Hudson thought they had run -into Heligoland in the mist. At the second glance he knew that the gray, -mist-wreathed monster before him was an armored ship, and the skipper -enlightened him further by saying, in a matter-of-fact voice: - -"That settles it--enemy cruiser! We're stopped, broadside on. They've -got a couple of guns trained on us and they're sending a boat. What's -the next move?" - -Matthew Hudson's face was a curious study at this moment. It suggested a -leopard endowed with a sense of humor. His mouth twitched at the corners -and his amazingly clear eyes were lit with an almost boyish jubilation. -It was a somewhat fierce jubilation; but it undoubtedly twinkled with -the humor of the New World. Then he asked the skipper a mysterious -question: - -"Is it impossible?" - -"Impossible! We're in the wrong position; and if we try to get right -they'll blow us to bits. Besides, they'll be aboard in half a minute. -We're drifting a little in the right direction; but it will be too late. -They'll search the ship." - -"How long will it take us to drift into the right position?" - -"If we go on like this, about four minutes. But it will be all over by -then." - -"Look here, Davis; I'll try and detain them on deck. You know Americans -have a reputation for oratory. You'd better go through my room. -And--look here--I'll be the skipper for the time being. I'm afraid -they'll want to take Matthew Hudson prisoner; so I'll be the kind of -American they'll recognize--Commander Jefferson B. Thrash, out of the -best British fiction. You don't happen to have a lasso in your pocket, -do you? I lent mine to ex-President Eliot of Harvard, and he hasn't -returned it. Tell the men there. That's right! I don't want to be -playing the fool in Ruhleben for the next three years." - -A few moments later, a step at a time, Davis disappeared into Hudson's -cabin, which lay in the fore part of the ship. Two other men prepared to -slip after him by lounging casually in the companionway, while the men -in front moved a little closer to screen them. - -They seized their chance as the German boat stopped, twenty yards away -from the _Morning Glory_, and the officer in command announced through a -megaphone, in very good English, that he was in a great hurry. They were -friends, he said; and there was no need for alarm, so long as the -_Morning Glory_ carried out all instructions. All they wanted was the -confidential chart of the British mine fields, which the _Morning -Glory_, of course, possessed, and all other confidential papers of a -similar kind. If the _Morning Glory_ did not carry out his instructions -in every detail the guns of the cruiser would sink her. He was now -coming aboard to secure the papers. - -"I guess that's all right, captain!" bawled Matthew Hudson in an -entirely new voice and the accent that Europe accepts as American, with -about as much reason as America would have for accepting the Lancashire, -Yorkshire and Glasgow dialects, all rolled into one, as English. - -The quiet member of the Century Club had disappeared, and the golden, -remote Wild Westerner, almost unknown in America itself, had risen. In -half a minute more the German officer and half a dozen armed sailors -were standing on the deck of the _Morning Glory_. - -"So you see England does not completely rule the waves," was the opening -remark of the officer, who had not yet received the full benefit of -Hudson's adopted accent. - -"Been finding it stormy in the canal, cap?" drawled Hudson. "Don't blame -it on me, anyway. I'm a good Amurrican--Jefferson B. Thrash, of -Buffalo." - -"Is this an American ship? I much regret to find an American ship -fighting her best friends." - -"Well, cap, I confess I haven't much use for the British, myself; not -since their press talked about my picture-postcard smile--an -ill-considered phrase, by which they unconsciously meant that, among the -effete aristocracies of Europe, they were not used to seeing good teeth. -They lack humor, sir. To regard good teeth as abnormal shows a lack of -humor on the part of the British press. - -"However, as George Bernard Shaw says, President Wilson has put it up to -the German people in this way: 'Become a republic and we'll let up on -you. Go on Kaisering and we'll smash you!'" - -"I am in a great hurry," the German officer replied. "I must ask you at -once for your confidential papers." - -"That's all right, admiral!" said Hudson. "I've sent a man down below to -get them out of my steamer trunk. They'll be here right away." - -He looked reflectively at the guns of the destroyer and added -ingratiatingly: - -"Of course I disapprove of George Bernard Shaw's vulgarizing the -language of diplomacy in that way. I would rather interpret President -Wilson's message as saying to the German people, in courteous phrase: -'Emerge from twelfth-century despotism into twentieth-century democracy. -Send the imperial liar who misrules you to join Nick Romanoff on his -ranch. Give the furniture-stealing Crown Prince a long term in any Sing -Sing you like to choose; and we will again buy dyestuffs and toys of -you, and sell you our beans and bacon.'" - -"Are you aware that you endanger your life by this language? Do you see -those guns?" - -Matthew Hudson looked at the guns and spat over the side of the ship -meditatively. Then he looked the questioner squarely in the eye. He had -taken the measure of his man and he only needed three and a half minutes -more. Any question that could be raised was clear gain; and the cruiser -would probably not use her guns while members of the German crew were -aboard the _Morning Glory_. - -"Yes," he said; "and you'd better not use your guns till you get those -confidential papers, for there's not a chance that you'll find them -without my help. They're worth having, and I've no objection to handing -them over, though I don't lay much store by your promise not to shoot -afterward. When you've got them, how am I to know that you won't shoot, -anyway, and--what's the latest language of your diplomacy?--'leave no -traces'? By cripes, there's no mushy sentiment about your officials! No, -sir! Leave no traces!--and they said it about neutrals, remember! Leave -no traces! That's virile! That's red-blooded stuff! The effete -humanitarianism of our democracy, sir, would call that murder. In -England they would call it bloody murder! I don't agree. I think that -war is war. Of course it's awkward for non-combatants--" - -"With regard to the crews, it has been announced in Germany that they -would be saved and kept prisoners in the submarines. Your man is taking -too long to find your papers. I can allow you only one minute more." - -"He'll be right back, captain, with all the confidential goods you want. -But, say, between one sailorman and another, that story about planning -to hide crews and passengers aboard the submarines must have been meant -for our Middle West. Last time I was on a submarine I had to sleep -behind the cookstove; and then the commander had to sit up all night. -It's the right stuff for the prairies, though. Ever hear of our senator, -cap, who wanted to know why the women and kids on the _Lusitania_ -weren't put into the water-tight compartments? They cussed the Cunard -Company from hell to breakfast out Kalamazoo way for that scandalous -oversight. Wonder what's keeping that son of a gun!" - -At this moment the son of a gun announced from the companionway that he -was unable to find the confidential papers. - -"I can wait no longer. The ship must be searched by my own men," said -the German peremptorily. "Are the papers in your cabin?" - -"Sure! But I can save you a lot of time, captain. I'll lead you right to -them." - -The _Morning Glory_ had drifted round till her nose was now pointing -towards that of the cruiser. In a minute or two more she would be -pointing directly amidships if the drifting continued. Matthew Hudson -took a long, affectionate look at the guns and the guns' crews that kept -watch over his behavior from the gray monster ahead; then he led the way -below to his cabin. - -The Hamburg-Amerika Line had many a less imposing room than this, the -only part of the yacht that retained all its old aspect. It ran the -whole breadth of the ship and had two portholes on each side. There was -a brass bedstead, with a telephone beside it and an electric reading -lamp. There were half a dozen other electric bulbs overhead. - -"I don't sleep very well, cap; so I decided to keep this bit of sinful -splendor for my own use. Bathroom, you see." He opened a tiny door near -the bed and showed the compact room, with its white bath-tub let into -the floor. This was too much for the German officer. - -"Where do you keep your confidential papers?" he bellowed, leveling a -revolver at the maddeningly complacent American, while three of his men -closed up behind him, ready for action. - -"Better not shoot, admiral, for you won't find them without my help; and -I'm going to hand you the goods in half a minute. I can't quite remember -where I put them. There's some confidential stuff in here, I think." - -He unlocked a drawer and pulled out a bundle of papers. A small white -object dropped from the bundle and lay on the floor between him and the -German. It was a baby's shoe. Hudson nodded at it as he looked through -the papers. - -"Got any kids, cap? That came from Queenstown. Ah, this looks like your -chart. No. Came from Queenstown, I say. It was a little girl belonging -to a friend of mine in the City of Brotherly Love. Lots of 'em on the -_Lusitania_, you know. We collect souvenirs in America, and I asked him -for this as a keepsake when I came on this gunning expedition. He kept -the other for himself. She was a pretty little thing. Only six! Used to -call me Uncle Jack." - -He stole a look through the porthole and drew another document from the -drawer. - -"Ah! Now I remember. Here's the stuff you want--some of it, anyhow. Tied -round with yaller ribbon. Take it, cap. I wish I hadn't seen that little -shoe; but you've got the drop on me this time and I suppose it's my duty -to save the lives of the men. There's a good bit of information there -about the mine fields." - -The German hurriedly examined the papers, while Hudson hummed to himself -as he stared through the porthole: - - _Around her little neck she wore a yaller ribbon; - She wore it in December and the merry month of May. - And when, oh, when they asked her why in hell she wore it, - She said she loved a sailor, a sailor, a sailor; - But he was wrecked and drownded in Mississippi Bay._ - -"This is very good," said the German, "and very useful. I think we shall -not require more of you; though it will be necessary to destroy your -ship and make you prisoners." - -"Why, certainly! I didn't suppose you could keep your contract in -war-time. You can't leave traces of a deal like this. But while you're -about it, you may as well have all the confidential stuff." - -"Good! Good!" said the German, strutting toward him. "So there's more to -come! I am glad you see the advantage in being too proud to fight, my -friend, eh?" - -Matthew Hudson's eye twinkled. His slouch began to slip away from him -like a loose coat, leaving once more the quiet upstanding member of the -Century Club. - -"Of course," he said, "you would make that mistake. The British made it. -They forgot that it was said about Mexico, at a time when you wanted us -to be kept busy down there. There are times, also, when for diplomatic -reasons it is necessary to talk." He had resumed his natural voice. -"When you are getting ready, for instance. This is where we keep the -real stuff." - -He crossed the cabin; and the German watched him closely with a puzzled -expression, covering him with his revolver. - -"No treachery!" he said. "What does this mean? You are not the man you -were pretending to be." - -Hudson laughed, and tossed him a little scrap of bunting, which he had -been holding crumpled up in his hand. - -"Ever seen that flag before?" he said. - -The German stared at it, his eyes growing round with amazement. - -"The Kaiser's flag has flown on this yacht at the Kiel Regatta many a -time," said Hudson. "His Majesty used to come and lunch with me. I don't -advise you to shoot me. He might remember some of my cigars. He gave me -that flag himself. Of course I shan't use it again--not till it's been -sprinkled with holy water. But I thought you might like a brief -exhibition of shirt-sleeve navalism, as I suppose you'd call it. - -"Most Europeans like us to live up to their ideas of us. The British do. -Ever hear of Senator Martin? Whenever he's in London and goes to see his -friends in the House of Commons, he wears a sombrero and a red cowboy -shirt. He says they expect it and like it. He wouldn't care to do it in -New York. As a fact, you know, we invented the electric telegraph and -the submarine, and a lot of little things that you fellows have been -stealing from us. Do you hear that?" - -There were two sharp clicks in the bows, followed by a faint sound like -the whirring of an electric fan under water; and Hudson pulled open the -door that led into the fore part of the ship. - -"_Gott! Gott!_" cried the German, and his men echoed it inarticulately; -for there, in the semidarkness of the bows of the _Morning Glory_, they -saw the dim shapes of seamen crouching beside two gleaming torpedo -tubes. The torpedoes had just been discharged. - -"You're too late to save your ship," said Matthew Hudson. "If you want -to save your own skins you'd better keep still and listen for a moment." - -Then came a concussion that rocked the _Morning Glory_ like a child's -cradle and sent her German visitors lurching and sprawling round the -brass bedstead. When they recovered they found a dozen revolvers -gleaming in front of their noses. - -"Before we say anything more about this," said Hudson, "let's go on deck -and look. - -"Do you mind giving me that little shoe at your feet there?" - -The officer turned a shade whiter than the shoe. - -Then, stooping, he picked it up and handed it to Hudson, who thrust it -into his breast pocket. - -"Thank you!" he said. "Now if you will all leave your guns on this bed -we'll go on deck and see the traces." - -When they reached the deck there was something that looked like an -enormous drowning cockroach trying to crawl out of the water four -hundred yards away. Round it there seemed to be a mass of drowning -flies. - -"It's not a pleasant sight, is it?" said Hudson. "But it's good to know -they were all fighting men, ready to kill or be killed. No women and -children among them! The _Lusitania_ must have looked much worse." - -"My brother is on board! Are you not trying to save them?" gasped the -officer. - -Hudson took out the little shoe again and looked at it. Then he turned -to the German boat's crew, where they huddled, sick with fear, -amidships. - -"Take your boat and pick up as many as you can," he said. - -"It is not safe--not till she sinks," a guttural voice replied. - -Almost on the word the cruiser went down with a rush. The sleek waters -and the white mists closed above her, while the _Morning Glory_ rocked -again like a child's cradle. - -"That is true," said Matthew Hudson to the shivering figure beside him. -"And we've got as many as we can handle on the ship. If we took more of -you aboard, according to the laws laid down in your text-books, you'd -cut our throats and call us idiotic Yankees for trusting you. - -"Please don't weep. We sent out a call a minute ago for the _Betsey -Barton_ and the _Dusty Miller_ and the _Christmas Day_. I'm not an -effete humanitarian myself; but the men on these trawlers aren't bad -sorts. I hope they'll pick up your brother." - - - - -V - -THE _LUSITANIA_ WAITS - - -On a stormy winter's night three skippers--averaging three score years -and five--were discussing the news, around a roaring fire, in the parlor -of the White Horse Inn. Five years ago they had retired, each on a snug -nest-egg. They were looking forward to a mellow old age in port and a -long succession of evenings at the White Horse, where they gathered to -debate the politics of their district. The war had given them new -topics; but Captain John Kendrick--who had become a parish councilor and -sometimes carried bulky blue documents in his breast-pocket, displaying -the edges with careful pride--still kept the local pot a-boiling. He was -mainly successful on Saturday nights, when the _Gazette_, their weekly -newspaper, appeared. It was edited by a Scot named Macpherson, who had -learned his job on the _Arbroath Free Press_. - -"Macpherson will never be on the council now," said Captain Kendrick. -"There's a rumor that he's a freethinker. He says that Christianity has -been proved a failure by the war." - -"Well, these chaps of ours now," said Captain Davidson, "out at sea on a -night like this, trying to kill Germans. It's necessary, I know, because -the Germans would kill our own folks if we gave 'em a chance. But don't -it prove that there's no use for Christianity? In modern civilization, I -mean." - -"Macpherson's no freethinker," said Captain Morgan, who was a friend of -the editor, and inclined on the strength of it to occupy the -intellectual chair at the White Horse. "Macpherson says we'll have to -try again after the war, or it will be blood and iron all round." - -"He's upset by the war," said Captain Davidson, "and he's taken to -writing poytry in his paper. He'd best be careful or he'll lose his -circulation." - -"Ah!" said Kendrick. "That's what 'ull finish him for the council. What -we want is practical men. Poytry would destroy any man's reputation. -There was a great deal of talk caused by his last one, about our -trawler chaps. 'Fishers of Men,' he called it; and I'm not sure that it -wouldn't be considered blasphemious by a good many." - -Captain Morgan shook his head. "Every Sunday evening," he said, "my -missus asks me to read her Macpherson's pome in the _Gazette_, and I've -come to enjoy them myself. Now, what does he say in 'Fishers of Men'?" - -"Read it," said Kendrick, picking the _Gazette_ from the litter of -newspapers on the table and handing it to Morgan. "If you know how to -read poytry, read it aloud, the way you do to your missus. I can't make -head or tail of poytry myself; but it looks blasphemious to me." - -Captain Morgan wiped his big spectacles while the other two settled -themselves to listen critically. Then he began in his best Sunday voice, -very slowly, but by no means unimpressively: - - _Long, long ago He said, - He who could wake the dead, - And walk upon the sea-- - "Come, follow Me._ - - "_Leave your brown nets and bring - Only your hearts to sing, - Only your souls to pray, - Rise, come away._ - - "_Shake out your spirit-sails, - And brave those wilder gales, - And I will make you then - Fishers of men._" - - _Was this, then, what He meant? - Was this His high intent, - After two thousand years - Of blood and tears?_ - - _God help us, if we fight - For right and not for might. - God help us if we seek - To shield the weak._ - - _Then, though His heaven be far - From this blind welter of war, - He'll bless us on the sea - From Calvary._ - -"It seems to rhyme all right," said Kendrick. "It's not so bad for -Macpherson." - -"Have you heard," said Davidson reflectively, "they're wanting more -trawler skippers down at the base?" - -"I've been fifty years, man and boy, at sea," said Captain Morgan; -"that's half a century, mind you." - -"Ah, it's hard on the women, too," said Davidson. "We're never sure what -boats have been lost till we see the women crying. I don't know how they -get the men to do it." - -Captain John Kendrick stabbed viciously with his forefinger at a picture -in an illustrated paper. - -"Here's a wicked thing now," he said. "Here's a medal they've struck in -Germany to commemorate the sinking of the _Lusitania_. Here's a -photograph of both sides of it. On one side, you see the great ship -sinking, loaded up with munitions which wasn't there; but not a sign of -the women and children that was there. On the other side you see the -passengers taking their tickets from Death in the New York booking -office. Now that's a fearful thing. I can understand 'em making a -mistake, but I can't understand 'em wanting to strike a medal for it." - -"Not much mistake about the _Lusitania_," growled Captain Davidson. - -"No, indeed. That was only my argyment," replied the councilor. "They're -a treacherous lot. It was a fearful thing to do a deed like that. My -son's in the Cunard; and, man alive, he tells me it's like sinking a -big London hotel. There was ladies in evening dress, and dancing in the -big saloons every night; and lifts to take you from one deck to another; -and shops with plate-glass windows, and smoking-rooms; and glass around -the promenade deck, so that the little children could play there in bad -weather, and the ladies lay in their deck-chairs and sun themselves like -peaches. There wasn't a soldier aboard, and some of the women was -bringing their babies to see their Canadian daddies in England for the -first time. Why, man, it was like sinking a nursing home!" - -"Do you suppose, Captain Kendrick, that they ever caught that -submarine?" asked Captain Morgan. They were old friends, but always -punctilious about their titles. - -"Ah, now I'll tell you something! Hear that?" - -The three old men listened. Through the gusts of wind that battered the -White Horse they heard the sound of heavy floundering footsteps passing -down the cobbled street, and a hoarse broken voice bellowing, with -uncanny abandonment, a fragment of a hymn: - - "_While shepherds watched their flocks by night, - All seated on the ground._" - -"That's poor old Jim Hunt," said Captain Morgan. He rose and drew the -thick red curtains from the window to peer out into the blackness. - -"Turn the lamp down," said the councilor, "or we'll be arrested under -the anti-aircraft laws." - -Davidson turned the lamp down and they all looked out of the window. -They saw the figure of a man, black against the glimmering water of the -harbor below. He walked with a curious floundering gait that might be -mistaken for the effects of drink. He waved his arms over his head like -a windmill and bellowed his hymn as he went, though the words were now -indistinguishable from the tumult of wind and sea. - -Captain Morgan drew the curtains, and the three sat down again by the -fire without turning up the lamp. The firelight played on the furrowed -and bronzed old faces and revealed them as worthy models for a -Rembrandt. - -"Poor old Jimmy Hunt!" said Captain Kendrick. "You never know how -craziness is going to take people. Jimmy was a terror for women and the -drink, till he was taken off the _Albatross_ by that German submarine. -They cracked him over the head with an iron bolt, down at the bottom of -the sea, because he wouldn't answer no questions. He hasn't touched a -drop since. All he does is to walk about in bad weather, singing hymns -against the wind. But there's more in it than that." - -Captain Kendrick lighted his pipe thoughtfully. The wind rattled the -windows. Outside, the sign-board creaked and whined as it swung. - -"A man like Jim Hunt doesn't go crazy," he continued, "through spending -a night in a 'U' boat, and then floating about for a bit. Jimmy won't -talk about it now; won't do nothing but sing that blasted hymn; but this -is what he said to me when they first brought him ashore. They said he -was raving mad, on account of his experiences. But that don't explain -what his experiences _were_. Follow me? And this is what he said. '_I -been down_,' he says, half singing like. '_I been down, down, in the -bloody submarine that sank the Lusitania. And what's more_,' he says,'_I -seen 'em!_' - -"'Seen what?' I says, humoring him like, and I gave him a cigarette. We -were sitting close together in his mother's kitchen. 'Ah!' he says, -calming down a little, and speaking right into my ear, as if it was a -secret. 'It was Christmas Eve the time they took me down. We could hear -'em singing carols on shore; and the captain didn't like it, so he blew -a whistle, and the Germans jumped to close the hatchways; and we went -down, down, down, to the bottom of the sea. - -"'I saw the whole ship,' he says; and he described it to me, so that I -knew he wasn't raving then. 'There was only just room to stand upright,' -he says, 'and overhead there was a track for the torpedo carrier. The -crew slept in hammocks and berths along the wall; but there wasn't room -for more than half to sleep at the same time. They took me through a -little foot-hole, with an air-tight door, into a cabin. - -"'The captain seemed kind of excited and showed me the medal he got for -sinking the _Lusitania_; and I asked him if the Kaiser gave it to him -for a Christmas present. That was when he and another officer seemed to -go mad; and the officer gave me a blow on the head with a piece of iron. - -"'They say I'm crazy,' he says, 'but it was the men on the "U" boat that -went crazy. I was lying where I fell, with the blood running down my -face, but I was watching them,' he says, 'and I saw them start and -listen like trapped weasels. At first I thought the trawlers had got 'em -in a net. Then I heard a funny little tapping sound all round the hull -of the submarine, like little soft hands it was, tapping, tapping, -tapping. - -"'The captain went white as a ghost, and shouted out something in -German, like as if he was calling "Who's there?" and the mate clapped -his hand over his mouth, and they both stood staring at one another. - -"'Then there was a sound like a thin little voice, outside the ship, -mark you, and sixty fathom deep, saying, "_Christmas Eve, the Waits, -sir!_" The captain tore the mate's hand away and shouted again, like he -was asking "_Who's there!_" and wild to get an answer, too. Then, very -thin and clear, the little voice came a second time, "_The Waits, sir. -The Lusitania, ladies!_" And at that the captain struck the mate in the -face with his clenched fist. He had the medal in it still between his -fingers, using it like a knuckle-duster. Then he called to the men like -a madman, all in German, but I knew he was telling 'em to rise to the -surface, by the way they were trying to obey him. - -"'The submarine never budged for all that they could do; and while they -were running up and down and squealing out to one another, there was a -kind of low sweet sound all round the hull, like a thousand voices all -singing together in the sea: - - "_Fear not, said he, for mighty dread - Had seized their troubled mind. - Glad tidings of great joy I bring - To you and all mankind._" - -"'Then the tapping began again, but it was much louder now; and it -seemed as if hundreds of drowned hands were feeling the hull and -loosening bolts and pulling at hatchways; and--all at once--a trickle of -water came splashing down into the cabin. The captain dropped his medal. -It rolled up to my hand and I saw there was blood on it. He screamed at -the men, and they pulled out their life-saving apparatus, a kind of -air-tank which they strapped on their backs, with tubes to rubber masks -for clapping over their mouths and noses. I watched 'em doing it, and -managed to do the same. They were too busy to take any notice of me. -Then they pulled a lever and tumbled out through a hole, and I followed -'em blindly. Something grabbed me when I got outside and held me for a -minute. Then I saw 'em, Captain Kendrick, I saw 'em, hundreds and -hundreds of 'em, in a shiny light, and sixty fathom down under the dark -sea--they were all waiting there, men and women and poor little babies -with hair like sunshine.... - -"'And the men were smiling at the Germans in a friendly way, and -unstrapping the air-tanks from their backs, and saying, "Won't you come -and join us? It's Christmas Eve, you know." - -"'Then whatever it was that held me let me go, and I shot up and knew -nothing till I found myself in Jack Simmonds's drifter, and they told me -I was crazy.'" - -Captain Kendrick filled his pipe. A great gust struck the old inn again -and again till all the timbers trembled. The floundering step passed -once more, and the hoarse voice bellowed away in the darkness against -the bellowing sea: - - _A Savior which is Christ the Lord, - And this shall be the sign._ - -Captain Davidson was the first to speak. - -"Poor old Jim Hunt!" he said. "There's not much Christ about any of this -war." - -"I'm not so sure of that neither," said Captain Morgan. "Macpherson said -a striking thing to me the other day. 'Seems to me,' he says, 'there's a -good many nowadays that are touching the iron nails.'" - -He rose and drew the curtains from the window again. - -"The sea's rattling hollow," he said; "there'll be rain before morning." - -"Well, I must be going," said Captain Davidson. "I want to see the naval -secretary down at the base." - -"About what?" - -"Why, I'm not too old for a trawler, am I?" - -"My missus won't like it, but I'll come with you," said Captain Morgan; -and they went through the door together, lowering their heads against -the wind. - -"Hold on! I'm coming, too," said Captain Kendrick; and he followed them, -buttoning up his coat. - - - - -VI - -THE LOG OF THE _EVENING STAR_ - - -We were sitting in the porch of a low white bungalow with masses of -purple bougainvillea embowering its eaves. A ruby-throated humming-bird, -with green wings, flickered around it. The tall palms and the sea were -whispering together. Over the water, the West was beginning to fill with -that Californian sunset which is the most mysterious in the world, for -one is conscious that it is the fringe of what Europeans call the East, -and that, looking westward across the Pacific, our faces are turned -towards the dusky myriads of Asia. All along the Californian coast there -is a tang of incense in the air, as befits that silent orchard of the -gods where dawn and sunset meet and intermingle; and, though it is -probably caused by some gardener, burning the dead leaves of the -eucalyptus trees, one might well believe that one breathed the scent of -the joss-sticks, wafted across the Pacific, from the land of paper -lanterns. - -A Japanese servant, in a white duck suit, marched like a ghostly little -soldier across the lawn. The great hills behind us quietly turned to -amethysts. The lights of Los Angeles ten miles away to the north began -to spring out like stars in that amazing air beloved of the astronomer; -and the evening star itself, over the huge slow breakers crumbling into -lilac-colored foam, looked bright enough to be a companion of the city -lights. - -"I should like to show you the log of the _Evening Star_," said my -visitor, who was none other than Moreton Fitch, president of the -insurance company of San Francisco. "I think it may interest you as -evidence that our business is not without its touches of romance. I -don't mean what you mean," he added cheerfully, as I looked up smiling. -"The _Evening Star_ was a schooner running between San Francisco and -Tahiti and various other places in the South Seas. She was insured in -our company. One April, she was reported overdue. After a search had -been made, she was posted as lost in the maritime exchanges. There was -no clue to what had happened, and we paid the insurance money, -believing that she had foundered with all hands. - -"Two months later, we got word from Tahiti that the _Evening Star_ had -been found drifting about in a dead calm, with all sails set, but not a -soul aboard. Everything was in perfect order, except that the ship's cat -was lying dead in the bows, baked to a bit of sea-weed by the sun. -Otherwise, there wasn't the slightest trace of any trouble. The tables -below were laid for a meal and there was plenty of water aboard." - -"Were any of the boats missing?" - -"No. She carried only three boats and all were there. When she was -discovered, two of the boats were on deck as usual; and the third was -towing astern. None of the men has been heard of from that day to this. -The amazing part of it was not only the absence of anything that would -account for the disappearance of the crew, but the clear evidence that -they had been intending to stay, in the fact that the tables were laid -for a meal, and then abandoned. Besides, where had they gone, and how? -There are no magic carpets, even in the South Seas. - -"The best brains of our Company puzzled over the mystery for a year and -more; but at the end of the time nothing had turned up and we had to -come out by the same door wherein we went. No theory, even, seemed to -fit the case at all; and, in most mysteries, there is room for a hundred -theories. There were twelve persons aboard, and we investigated the -history of them all. There were three American seamen, all of the -domesticated kind, with respectable old mothers in gold-rimmed -spectacles at home. There were five Kanakas of the mildest type, as easy -to handle as an infant school. There was a Japanese cook, who was -something of an artist. He used to spend his spare time in painting -things to palm off on the unsuspecting connoisseur as the work of an -obscure pupil of Hokusai, which I suppose he might have been in a way. I -am told he was scrupulously careful never to tell a direct lie about it. - -"Then there was Harper, the mate, rather an interesting young fellow, -with the wanderlust. He had been pretty well educated. I believe he had -spent a year or two at one of the Californian colleges. Altogether, -about the most harmless kind of a ship's family that you could pick up -anywhere between the Golden Gate and the Baltic. Then there was Captain -Burgess, who was the most domesticated of them all, for he had his wife -with him on this voyage. They had been married only about three months. -She was the widow of the former captain of the _Evening Star_, a fellow -named Dayrell; and she had often been on the ship before. In fact, they -were all old friends of the ship. Except one or two of the Kanakas, all -the men had sailed on the _Evening Star_ for something like two years -under Captain Dayrell. Burgess himself had been his mate. Dayrell had -been dead only about six months; and the only criticism we ever heard -against anybody aboard was made by some of Dayrell's relatives, who -thought the widow might have waited more than three months before -marrying the newly promoted Burgess. They suggested, of course, that -there must have been something between them before Dayrell was out of -the way. But I hardly believed it. In any case, it threw no light on the -mystery." - -"What sort of a man was Burgess?" - -"Big burly fellow with a fat white face and curious little eyes, like -huckleberries in a lump of dough. He was very silent and inclined to be -religious. He used to read Emerson and Carlyle, quite an unusual sort of -sea-captain. There was a _Sartor Resartus_ in the cabin with a lot of -the queerest passages marked in pencil. What can you make of it?" - -"Nothing at all, except that there was a woman aboard. What was she -like?" - -"She was one of our special Californian mixtures, touch of Italian, -touch of Irish, touch of American, but Italian predominated, I think. -She was a good deal younger than Burgess; and one of the clerks in our -office who had seen her described her as a 'peach,' which, as you know, -means a pretty woman, or if you prefer the description of her own lady -friends, 'vurry attractive.'" - -"She had the dusky Italian beauty, black hair and eyes like black -diamonds, but her face was very pale, the kind of pallor that makes you -think of magnolia blossoms at dusk. She was obviously fond of bright -colors, tawny reds and yellows, but they suited her. If I had to give -you my impression of her in a single word, I should say that she looked -like a gipsy. You know the song, 'Down the World with Marna,' don't you? -Well, I could imagine a romantic vagabond singing it about her. By the -by, she had rather a fine voice herself. Used to sing sentimental songs -to Dayrell and his friends in 'Frisco, 'Love's Old Sweet Song' and that -sort of stuff. Apparently, they took it very seriously. Several of them -told me that if she had been trained--well, you know the old -story--every prima donna would have had to retire from business. I fancy -they were all a little in love with her. The curious thing was that -after Dayrell's death she gave up her singing altogether. Now, I think I -have told you all the facts about the ship's company." - -"Didn't you say there was a log you wanted to show me?" - -"There were no ship's papers of any kind, and no log was found on the -derelict; but, a week or two ago, we had a visit from the brother of the -Japanese cook, who made us all feel like fifteen cents before the wisdom -of the East. I have to go over and see him to-morrow afternoon. He is a -fisherman, lives on the coast, not far from here. I'd like you to see -what I call the log of the _Evening Star_. I won't say any more about it -now. It isn't quite worked out yet; but it looks as if it's going to be -interesting. Will you come--to-morrow afternoon? I'll call for you at a -quarter after two. It won't take us long in the automobile. This is -where he lives, see?" - -I switched on the electric light in the porch while Fitch spread out a -road map, and pointed to our destination of the morrow. The Californian -night comes quickly, and the tree-toads that make it musical were -chirruping and purring all around us as we walked through the palms and -the red-tasseled pepper trees to his car. Somewhere among the funereal -clouds and poplarlike spires of the eucalyptus, a mocking-bird began to -whistle one of his many parts, and a delicious whiff of orange blossom -blew on the cool night wind across a ranch of a thousand acres, mostly -in fruit, but with a few trees yet in blossom, on the road to the Sunset -Inn. - -I watched his red rear lamp dwindling down that well-oiled road, and let -the _Evening Star_ go with it until the morrow, for I could make little -of his yarn, except that Fitch was not a man to get excited over -trifles. - - -II - -Promptly at the time appointed on the following afternoon, Fitch called -for me; and a minute later we were gliding through orange groves along -one of those broad smooth roads that amaze the European whose -impressions of California have been obtained from tales of the -forty-niners. The keen scent of the orange blossom yielded to a tang of -new incense, as we turned into the Sunset Boulevard and ran down the -long vista of tall eucalyptus trees that stand out so darkly and -distinctly against the lilac-colored ranges of the Sierra Madre in the -distance, and remind one of the poplar-bordered roads of France. Once we -passed a swarthy cluster of Mexicans under a wayside palm. Big -fragments, gnawed half-moons, of the blood-red black-pipped watermelon -they had been eating, gleamed on the dark oiled surface of the road, as -a splash of the sunset is reflected in a dark river. Then we ran along -the coast for a little way between the palms and the low white-pillared -houses, all crimson poinsettias and marble, that looked as if they were -meant for the gods and goddesses of Greece, but were only the homes of a -few score lotus-eating millionaires. In another minute, we had turned -off the good highway, and were running along a narrow sandy road. On one -side, rising from the road, were great desert hills, covered with -gray-green sage-brush, tinged at the tips with rusty brown; and, on the -other, there was a strip of sandy beach where the big slow breakers -crumbled, and the unmolested pelicans waddled and brooded like goblin -sentries. - -In three minutes more, we sighted a cluster of tiny wooden houses ahead -of us, and pulled up on the outskirts of a Japanese fishing village, -built along the fringe of the beach itself. It was a single miniature -street, nestling under the hill on one side of the narrow road and built -along the sand on the other. Japanese signs stood over quaint little -stores, with here and there a curious tinge of Americanism. RICE CAKES -AND CANDIES were advertised by one black-haired and boyish-looking -gentleman who sat at the door of his hut, playing with three brown -children, one of whom squinted at us gleefully with bright sloe-black -eyes. Every tiny house, even when it stood on the beach, had its own -festoon of flowers. Bare-legged, almond-eyed fishermen sat before them, -mending their nets. Wistaria drooped from the jutting eaves; -and--perhaps only the Japanese could explain the miracle--tall and -well-nourished red geraniums rose, out of the salt sea-sand apparently, -around their doors. A few had foregone their miracles and were content -with window boxes, but all were in blossom. In the center of the -village, on the seaward side, there was a miniature mission house. A -beautifully shaped bell swung over the roof; and there was a miniature -notice-board at the door. The announcements upon it were in Japanese, -but it looked as if East and West had certainly met, and kissed each -other there. Some of the huts had oblong letter boxes of gray tin, -perched on stumps of bamboo fishing poles, in front of their doors. It -is a common device to help the postman in country places where you -sometimes see a letter-box on a broomstick standing half a mile from the -owner's house. But here, they looked curiously Japanese, perhaps because -of the names inscribed upon them, or through some trick of arrangement, -for a Japanese hand no sooner touches a dead staff than it breaks into -cherry blossom. We stopped before one that bore the name of Y. Kato. His -unpainted wooden shack was the most Japanese of all in appearance; for -the yellow placard underneath the window advertising SWEET CAPORAL was -balanced by a single tall pole, planted in the sand a few feet to the -right, and lifting a beautiful little birdhouse high above the roof. - -Moreton Fitch knocked at the door, which was opened at once by a dainty -creature, a piece of animated porcelain four feet high, with a -black-eyed baby on her back; and we were ushered with smiles into a very -bare living-room to be greeted by the polished mahogany countenance of -Kato himself and the shell-spectacled intellectual pallor of Howard -Knight, professor in the University of California. - -"Amazing, amazing, perfectly amazing," said Knight, who was wearing two -elderly tea-roses in his cheeks now from excitement. "I have just -finished it. Sit down and listen." - -"Wait a moment," said Fitch. "I want our friend here to see the original -log of the _Evening Star_." - -"Of course," said Knight, "a human document of the utmost value." Then, -to my surprise, he took me by the arm and led me in front of a kakemono, -which was the only decoration on the walls of the room. - -"This is what Mr. Fitch calls the log of the _Evening Star_," he said. -"It was found among the effects of Mr. Kato's brother on the schooner; -and, fortunately, it was claimed by Mr. Kato himself. Take it to the -light and examine it." - -I took it to the window and looked at it with curiosity, though I did -not quite see its bearing on the mystery of the _Evening Star_. It was a -fine piece of work, one of those weird night-pictures in which the -Japanese are masters, for they know how to give you the single point of -light that tells you of the unseen life around the lamp of the household -or the temple. This was a picture of a little dark house, with jutting -eaves, and a tiny rose light in one window, overlooking the sea. At the -brink of the sea rose a ghostly figure that might only be a drift of -mist, for the curve of the vague body suggested that the off-shore wind -was blowing it out to sea, while the great gleaming eyes were fixed on -the lamp, and the shadowy arms outstretched towards it in hopeless -longing. Sea and ghost and house were suggested in a very few strokes of -the brush. All the rest, the peace and the tragic desire and a thousand -other suggestions, according to the mood of the beholder, were -concentrated into that single pinpoint of warm light in the window. - -"Turn it over," said Fitch. - -I obeyed him, and saw that the whole back of the kakemono, which -measured about four feet by two, was covered with a fine scrawl of -Japanese characters in purple copying-pencil. I had overlooked it at -first, or accepted it, with the eye of ignorance, as a mere piece of -Oriental decoration. - -"That is what we all did," said Fitch. "We all overlooked the simple -fact that Japanese words have a meaning. We didn't trouble about it--you -know how vaguely one's eye travels over a three-foot sign on a Japanese -tea-house--we didn't even think about it till Mr. Kato turned up in our -office a week or two ago. You can't read it. Nor can I. But we got Mr. -Knight here to handle it for us." - -"It turns out to be a message from Harper," said Knight. "Apparently, he -was lying helpless in his berth, and told the Japanese to write it down. -A few sentences here and there are unintelligible, owing to the -refraction of the Oriental mind. Fortunately, it is Harper's own -message. I have made two versions, one a perfectly literal one which -requires a certain amount of re-translation. The other is an attempt to -give as nearly as possible what Harper himself dictated. This is the -version which I had better read to you now. The original has various -repetitions, and shows that Harper's mind occasionally wandered, for he -goes into trivial detail sometimes. He seems to have been possessed, -however, with the idea of getting his account through to the owners; -and, whenever he got an opportunity, he made the Japanese take up his -pencil and write, so that we have a very full account." - -Knight took out a note-book, adjusted his glasses, and began to read, -while the ghostly original fluttered in my hand, as the night-wind blew -from the sea. - -"A terrible thing has happened, and I think it my duty to write this, in -the hope that it may fall into the hands of friends at home. I am not -likely to live another twenty-four hours. The first hint that I had of -anything wrong was on the night of March the fifteenth, when Mrs. -Burgess came up to me on deck, looking very worried, and said, 'Mr. -Harper, I am in great trouble. I want to ask you a question, and I want -you to give me an honest answer.' She looked round nervously, and her -hands were fidgeting with her handkerchief, as if she were frightened to -death. 'Whatever your answer may be,' she said, 'you'll not mention what -I've said to you.' I promised her. She laid her hand on my arm and said -with the most piteous look in her face I have ever seen, 'I have no -other friends to go to, and I want you to tell me. Mr. Harper, is my -husband sane?' - -"I had never doubted the sanity of Burgess till that moment. But there -was something in the dreadfulness of that question, from a woman who had -only been married a few months, that seemed like a door opening into the -bottomless pit. - -"It seemed to explain many things that hadn't occurred to me before. I -asked her what she meant and she told me that last night Burgess had -come into the cabin and waked her up. His eyes were starting out of his -head, and he told her that he had seen Captain Dayrell walking on deck. -She told him it was nothing but imagination; and he laid his head on his -arms and sobbed like a child. He said he thought it was one of the -deckhands that had just come out of the foc'sle, but all the men were -short and smallish, and this was a big burly figure. It went ahead of -him like his own shadow, and disappeared in the bows. But he knew it was -Dayrell, and there was a curse on him. To-night, she said, half an hour -ago, Burgess had come down to her, taken her by the throat, and sworn he -would kill her if she didn't confess that Dayrell was still alive. She -told him he must be crazy. 'My mind may be going,' he said, 'but you -sha'n't kill my soul.' And he called her a name which she didn't repeat, -but began to cry when she remembered it. He said he had seen Dayrell -standing in the bows with the light of the moon full on his face, and he -looked so brave and upright that he knew he must have been bitterly -wronged. He looked like a soldier facing the enemy, he said. - -"While she was telling me this, she was looking around her in a very -nervous kind of way, and we both heard some one coming up behind us very -quietly. We turned round, and there--as God lives--stood the living -image of Captain Dayrell looking at us, in the shadow of the mast. Mrs. -Burgess gave a shriek that paralyzed me for the moment, then she ran -like a wild thing into the bows, and before any one could stop her, she -climbed up and threw herself overboard. Evans and Barron were only a few -yards away from her when she did it, and they both went overboard after -her immediately, one of them throwing a life-belt over ahead of him as -he went. They were both good swimmers, and as the moon was bright, I -thought we had only to launch a boat to pick them all up. I shouted to -the Kanakas, and they all came up running. Two of the men and myself got -into one of the starboard boats, and we were within three feet of the -water when I heard the crack of a revolver from somewhere in the bows of -the _Evening Star_. The men who were lowering away let us down with a -rush that nearly capsized us. There were four more shots while we were -getting our oars out. I called to the men on deck, asking them who was -shooting, but got no reply. I believe they were panic-stricken and had -bolted into cover. We pulled round the bows, and could see nothing. -There was not a sign of the woman or the two men in the water. - -"We could make nobody hear us on the ship, and all this while we had -seen nothing of Captain Burgess. It must have been nearly an hour -before we gave up our search, and tried to get aboard again. We were -still unable to get any reply from the ship, and we were about to try to -climb on board by the boat's falls. The men were backing her in, stern -first, and we were about ten yards away from the ship when the figure of -Captain Dayrell appeared leaning over the side of the _Evening Star_. He -stood there against the moonlight, with his face in shadow; but we all -of us recognized him, and I heard the teeth of the Kanakas chattering. -They had stopped backing, and we all stared at one another. Then, as -casually as if it were a joke, Dayrell stretched out his arm, and I saw -the moonlight glint on his revolver. He fired at us, deliberately, as if -he were shooting at clay pigeons. I felt the wind of the first shot -going past my head, and the two men at once began to pull hard to get -out of range. The second shot missed also. At the third shot, he got the -man in the bows full in the face. He fell over backwards, and lay there -in the bottom of the boat. He must have been killed instantaneously. At -the fourth shot, I felt a stinging pain on the left side of my body, -but hardly realized I had been wounded at the moment. A cloud passed -over the moon just then, and the way we had got on the boat had carried -us too far for Dayrell to aim very accurately, so that I was able to get -to the oars and pull out of range. The other man must have been wounded -also, for he was lying in the bottom of the boat groaning, but I do not -remember seeing him hit. I managed to pull fifty yards or so, and then -fainted, for I was bleeding very badly. - -"When I recovered consciousness I found that the bleeding had stopped, -and I was able to look at the two men. Both of them were dead and quite -cold, so that I must have been unconscious for some time. - -"The _Evening Star_ was about a hundred yards away, in the full light of -the moon, but I could see nobody on deck. I sat watching her till -daybreak, wondering what I should do, for there was no water or food in -the boat, and I was unarmed. Unless Captain Burgess and the other men -aboard could disarm Dayrell, I was quite helpless. Perhaps my wound had -dulled my wits; for I was unable to think out any plan, and I sat there -aimlessly for more than an hour. - -"It was broad daylight, and I had drifted within fifty yards of the -ship, when, to my surprise, Captain Burgess appeared on deck and hailed -me. 'All right, Harper,' he said, 'come aboard.' - -"I was able to scull the boat alongside, and Captain Burgess got down -into her without a word and helped me aboard. He took me down to my -berth, with his arm around me, for I almost collapsed again with the -effort, and he brought me some brandy. As soon as I could speak, I asked -him what it all meant, and he said, 'The ship is his, Harper; we've got -to give it up to him. That's what it means. I am not afraid of him by -daylight, but what we shall do to-night, God only knows.' Then, just as -Mrs. Burgess had told me, he put his head down on his arms, and began to -sob like a child. - -"'Where are the other men?' I asked him. - -"'There's only you and I and Kato,' he said, 'to face it out aboard this -ship.' - -"With that, he got up and left me, saying that he would send Kato to me -with some food, if I thought I could eat. But I knew by this time that I -was a dying man. - -"There was only one thing I had to do, and that was to try to get this -account written, and hide it somehow in the hope of some one finding it -later, for I felt sure that neither Burgess nor myself would live to -tell it. There was no paper in my berth, and it was Kato that thought of -writing it down in this way. - -"_About an hour later._ Burgess has just been down to see me. He said -that he had buried the two men who were shot in the boat. I wanted to -ask him some questions, but he became so excited, it seemed useless. -Neither he nor Kato seemed to have any idea where Dayrell was hiding. -Kato believes, in fact, in ghosts, so that it is no use questioning him. - -"I must have lost consciousness or slept very heavily since the above -was written, for I remembered nothing more till nightfall, when I woke -up in the pitch darkness. Kato was sitting by me. He lit the lamp, and -gave me another drink of brandy. The ship was dead still, but I felt -that something had gone wrong again. - -"I do not know whether my own mind is going, but we have just heard the -voice of Mrs. Burgess singing one of those sentimental songs that -Captain Dayrell used to be so fond of. It seemed to be down in the -cabin, and when she came to the end of it, I heard Captain Dayrell's -voice calling out, '_Encore! Encore!_' just as he used to do. Then I -heard some one running down the deck like mad, and Captain Burgess came -tumbling down to us with the whites of his eyes showing. 'Did you hear -it?' he said. 'Harper, you'll admit you heard it. Don't tell me I'm mad. -They're in the cabin together now. Come and look at them.' Then he -looked at me with a curious, cunning look, and said, 'No, you'd better -stay where you are, Harper. You're not strong enough.' And he crept on -the deck like a cat. - -"Something urged me to follow him, even if it took the last drop of my -strength. Kato tried to dissuade me, but I drained the brandy flask, and -managed to get out of my berth on to the deck by going very slowly, -though the sweat broke out on me with every step. Burgess had -disappeared, and there was nobody on deck. It was not so difficult to -get to the sky-light of the cabin. I don't know what I had expected to -see, but there I did see the figure of Captain Dayrell, dressed as I had -seen him in life, with a big scarf round his throat, and the big peaked -cap. There was an open chest in the corner, with a good many clothes -scattered about, as if by some one who had been dressing in a hurry. It -was an old chest belonging to Captain Dayrell in the old days, and I -often wondered why Burgess had left it lying there. The revolver lay on -the table, and as Dayrell picked it up to load it, the scarf unwound -itself a little around his throat and the lower part of his face. Then, -to my amazement, I recognized him." - -"There," said Knight, "the log of the _Evening Star_ ends except for a -brief sentence by Kato himself, which I will not read to you now." - -"I wonder if the poor devil did really see," said Moreton Fitch. "And -what do you suppose he did when he saw who it was?" - -"Crept back to his own berth, barricaded himself in with Kato's help, -finished his account, died in the night, with Dayrell tapping on the -door, and was neatly buried by Burgess in the morning, I suppose." - -"And, Burgess?" - -"Tidied everything up, and then jumped overboard." - -"Probably,--in his own clothes; for it's quite true that we did find a -lot of Dayrell's old clothes in a sea-chest in the cabin. Funny idea, -isn't it, a man ghosting himself like that?" - -"Yes, but what did Harper mean by saying he heard Mrs. Burgess singing -in the cabin that night?" - -"Ah, that's another section of the log recorded in a different way." - -Moreton Fitch made a sign to the little Japanese, and told him to get a -package out of his car. He returned in a moment, and laid it at our feet -on the floor. - -"Dayrell was very proud of his wife's voice," said Fitch as he took the -covers off the package. "Just before he was taken ill he conceived the -idea of getting some records made of her songs to take with him on board -ship. The gramophone was found amongst the old clothes. The usual -sentimental stuff, you know. Like to hear it? She had rather a fine -voice." - -He turned a handle, and, floating out into the stillness of the -California night, we heard the full rich voice of a dead woman: - - "_Just a song at twilight, when the lights are low, - And the flickering shadows softly come and go._" - -At the end of the stanza, a deep bass voice broke in with, "_Encore! -Encore!_" - -Then Fitch stopped it. - -When we were in the car on our way home, I asked if there were any clue -to the fate of the Japanese cook, in the last sentence of the log of the -_Evening Star_. - -"I didn't want to bring it up before his brother," said Knight, "they -are a sensitive folk; but the last sentence was to the effect that the -_Evening Star_ had now been claimed by the spirit of Captain Dayrell, -and that the writer respectfully begged to commit _hari kari_." - -Our road turned inland here, and I looked back toward the fishing -village. The night was falling, but the sea was lilac-colored with the -afterglow. I could see the hut and the little birdhouse black against -the water. On a sand dune just beyond them, the figures of the fisherman -Kato and his wife were sitting on their heels, and still watching us. -They must have been nearly a mile away by this time; but in that clear -air they were carved out sharp and black as tiny ebony images against -the fading light of the Pacific. - - - - -VII - -GOBLIN PEACHES - - -The big liner was running like a ghost, with all lights out on deck and -every porthole shrouded. This might seem to the layman almost humorously -inconsistent; for, every minute or two the blast of her foghorn went -bellowing away into the night, loudly enough to disturb the slumbers of -any U-boat lying "doggo" within five miles. - -Duncan Drew and I were alone in the smoking-room when the steward -brought us our coffee. There were very few passengers; and the first -cabin-folk were curiously different from those of peace-time. Most of -them, I fancied, were crossing the Atlantic on some business directly -connected with the war. There was a Belgian professor from Louvain, for -instance, who was taking his family over to the new post that had been -found for him at an American University; and there was the wife of an -Italian statesman, an American woman, who was returning home to raise -funds for the Red Cross of her adopted country. There were others whom -it was not so easy to place; and Duncan Drew would have been among them, -I think, if I had not known him. Nobody could have looked more like a -civilian and less like an officer of the British Navy than Duncan did at -this moment. But I knew the job on which he was engaged. When he found -that I knew the Maine coast, he asked me to help him in a certain -matter. - -It was in the days before America entered the war; and his mission was -to present certain evidence of a widespread German conspiracy to the -United States Government. If they approved, he was to cooperate in -unearthing the ring-leaders. The conspiracy was a very simple one. It -seemed likely, at the time, that the U-boats would soon be unable to -operate from European bases; and the German admiralty, always looking a -few months ahead, though perhaps ignoring remoter possibilities, was -calmly planning, with the help of its agents in America, to work from -the other side of the water. The thousand-mile coast line of the United -States had many advantages from the German point of view, especially in -its lonelier regions, where there are hundreds of small islands, either -uninhabited or privately owned, and not necessarily owned by American -citizens. The U-boats, it is true, would have to travel further if they -were to work in European waters. But already they had been forced by the -British patrols to travel more than fifteen hundred miles from their -European bases, far to the north of Scotland and west of Ireland, before -they could operate against the Atlantic shipping. The slight increase in -the distance would be more than repaid by the comparative safety of the -submarines. They planned, in short, to work from American bases, while a -dull-witted British Navy should be vainly endeavoring to close European -doors, which the enemy was no longer using. - -We didn't talk "shop" in the smoking-room, even when we were alone, for -the ground had been covered so often. On this particular evening, I -remember, we talked chiefly about food. The dinner had been excellent; -and it had been a curious sensation to pass from the slight but obvious -restrictions of London, to a ship which seemed to possess all the -resources of the United States. - -"I've only been in Berlin once," said Duncan, "but I was there long -enough to know that they will feel the pinch first, and feel it worst. -They are rum beggars, the Boches. Think of the higher command marking -out the early stages of the war by the dinners it was going to -have,--every menu carefully planned, one for Brussels, one for Paris, -and probably one for London! I remember lunching at a hotel when I was -in Berlin, and seeing rather a curious thing. There was a table in the -center of the room, laid for what was evidently going to be a very grand -affair. It was laid for about twenty people, and I saw a thing I had -never seen before. Every champagne glass contained a peach. I asked my -waiter what it meant, and he said that von Schramm, the fellow who is -one of the moving spirits behind this new submarine campaign, was -entertaining some of his pals that day; and this was one of his pretty -little fads. He thought it improved the wine, and also that it prevented -gout, or some rot of that sort." - -"How very German! My chief objection would be that there wouldn't be -much room left for the champagne." - -"Trust the German for that, my lad. The glasses were extra large, and -of a somewhat unusual pattern. As a matter of fact, the decorative -effect was rather pretty. It's queer--the way some things stick in your -memory and others vanish. I believe that my most vivid impression of the -few months I passed in Germany is that blessed table, waiting for its -guests, with the peaches in the champagne glasses. I didn't see the -guests arrive. Wish I had now. There's always something a little stagey, -don't you think, about a table waiting for its guests; but this was more -so. It affected me like the throne of melodrama waiting for its emperor. -Funny that it should have made such an impression, isn't it?" - -I thought not; for it was part of Duncan's business to be impressed by -unusual things--more especially when they were symptomatic of something -else. It was this that made him so useful, for instance, in that -exciting little episode of the cargo of onions which was -intercepted--owing to one of his impressions--in a Scandinavian ship. -They were perfectly good onions, the first few layers of them; and they -looked like perfectly good onions when you burrowed into the lower -layers. But Duncan had been seized by an absurd desire to see whether -they would bounce or not; and when he experimented on the deck, they did -bounce, bounce like cricket balls, as high as the ship's funnels. - -This capture of one of the largest cargoes of contraband rubber was due -to an impression he got from two innocent cablegrams which had been -intercepted and brought to him at the Admiralty,--one of them apparently -concerning an operation for appendicitis, and the other announcing the -death of the patient. His intuitions, indeed, resembled those of the -artist; and, though he was one of the smartest sailors in the Navy, he -looked more like a pre-Raphaelite painter's conception of Galahad than -any one I had ever seen in the flesh. He looked exceedingly youthful, -and the dead whiteness of his face, which his Philistine brethren -described as lantern-jawed, was lighted by the alert eyes of the new -age. They had that peculiar glitter which one sees in the eyes of -aviators, and sometimes in those of the business men accustomed to the -electric cities of the new world. His hands were like those of a -musician, long and quick and nervous. But I could easily imagine them -throttling an enemy. - -We turned in early that night, and I dozed fitfully, revolving fragments -of our somewhat disconnected conversation. The beautiful sea-cry "All's -well" came to me from the watch in the bow, as the bell tolled the -passage of the hours; and it was not till daybreak that I slept, only to -dream of that table in Berlin, waiting for its guests, with a peach in -every champagne glass. - - -II - -As we waited in the cold brilliance of New York harbor, a few mornings -later, and looked with considerable satisfaction at the German steamers -that were huddled like gigantic red and black cattle in the docks of the -Hamburg-Amerika and North German-Lloyd, a telegram was brought aboard -which settled our plans. - -Duncan was to go down to Washington that night, while I was to go up to -Rockport, a little fishing village on the coast of Maine. At this place -I was to take a motor-car and drive some fifteen miles to a certain -lonely strip of pine-clad coast. There we were to camp out in a tiny -cottage, which we could rent from an old sea-captain whom I knew before -the war. Two artists, in quest of a quiet place for work, could hardly -find a happier hunting-ground. I was particularly glad to find that we -could hire a trim little motor-launch, in which we could go exploring -among the islands that dotted the blue sea for scores of miles. It was a -beautiful coast, and their dark peaks of pine were printed like tiny -black feathers against a sky of unimaginable sapphire. Nothing could -seem more remote from the devilries of modern war. - -Duncan joined me, a week later, in Captain Humphrey's cottage--it was a -small white-painted wooden house among the pine trees on the main land, -built on the rocks which overhung a deep blue inlet of the Atlantic. We -discussed our plans on the little veranda, from which we could see half -a dozen of those pine-crowned islands, which were the objects of -suspicion. There were scores of others we could not see, to north and -south of us, and we checked them off on the map as we sat there under -the dried sunfish and the other queer marine trophies, which the old -skipper had brought back with him from the South Seas. - -The nights were quite cold enough for a fire, though it was only -mid-July; and we finished all our plans that evening round the big -stove, the kind of thing you see in the foc'sle of a steam trawler, -which stood in the center of Captain Humphrey's parlor. We were more -than a little glad indeed to let our pipes and the good-smelling pine -logs waft their incense abroad; for--like all the dwellers in those -parts--the old skipper subsisted through the winter on the codfish which -he had salted and stored during the summer in his attic; and though his -abode was clean and neat as himself, it had the healthy reek of a -trawler, as well as its heating apparatus. A large oil lamp, which hung -from the ceiling, was none the worse, moreover, for the moderating -influence of a little wood-smoke. - -"To-morrow, then," said Duncan, "we take the motor-launch and have a -look at all the islands between this place and Rockport. They've been -awfully decent down in Washington about it. The only trouble is that -they don't and can't believe it. Exactly the state of mind we were in, -before the war. Everybody laughing at exactly the same things, from -spy-stories to signals on the coast. I met a man in the Government who -had been taken to a window at midnight to see a light doing the Morse -code, off this very coast, and he laughed at it. Didn't believe it. -Thought it was the evening-star. We were like that ourselves. No decent -man can believe certain things, till they are beyond question. - -"It's our own fault. We told them all was well before the war; and I -don't see how we can blame them for thinking their own intervention -unnecessary now. We keep on telling America that it's all over except -the shouting. We paint the rosiest kind of picture to-day about the -prospects of the allies; and then we grumble amongst ourselves because -Americans don't turn the whole of their continent upside down to come -and help us. We deliberately lulled America to sleep, and then we kicked -because we heard that she had only one eye open. - -"Well,--they've given us a blessing on our wild-goose chase. We may do -all the investigating we like, as I understand the position, so long as -we leave any resultant action to the United States. This means, I -suppose,--in old Captain Humphrey's language--that we may be -'rubber-necks,' but we mustn't shoot. All the same, I brought the guns -with me." He laid two automatic pistols on the table. "It's more than -likely, from what I've been able to gather, that we may have to defend -our own skins; and I suppose that's permissible. Oh, damn that -mosquito!" He slapped his ankle, and complained bitterly that the old -sea-captain's faith in his own tough exterior had prevented him from -providing his doors and windows with mosquito netting. - - * * * * * - -It was on the fourth morning of our search that things began to happen. -For my own part, I had already begun to be so absorbed in the peace of -the world about us, that the whole business of the war seemed unreal and -our own quest futile. I could no longer wonder at those inhabitants of -the new world who were said to look upon our European Armageddon as a -bad dream, or a morbid tale in a book, which it was better not to open. -As we chug-chugged along the coast, close under the thick pine woods, -which grew almost to the edge of the foam, I thought I had never -breathed an air so fragrant, or seen color so brilliant in earth and sky -and sea. Once or twice, as we shut off the motor and lay idle, we heard -a hermit-thrush in the woods, breaking the silence with a peculiarly -plaintive liquid call, quite unlike the song of our thrushes at home, -but very beautiful. Here and there we passed the little red, blue and -green buoys of lobster-pots, shining like jewels as the clear water -lapped about them in that amazing sunlight. - -We were making for a certain island about which we had obtained some -interesting details from Captain Humphrey himself. He told us that it -had been purchased two or three years ago by a New Yorker who was -building himself quite a fine place on it. He seemed to be a somewhat -mysterious character, for he was never seen on the mainland, and all his -supplies were brought up to him on his own large private yacht. - -"There's a wharf on the island," said Captain Humphrey, "with deep water -running up to it, so that a yacht can sail right up to his porch, as you -might say, and you wouldn't know it was there. The cove runs in on the -slant, and the pines grow between it and the sea. You wouldn't notice -it, unless you ran right in at the mouth. It makes a fine private harbor -for a yacht, and I believe it has held two at a time. There's a good -beach for clams on the west shore, but of course, it's private." - -We certainly saw no sign of yacht or harbor as we approached the island -from the landward side; but we made no departure from our course to look -for either. We were bound for clam-beach, where we intended to do a -little clam-poaching. - -"It doesn't look promising," said Duncan, as we approached the shore. -"There doesn't seem to be anybody to warn trespassers off. But perhaps -clam-beach is not regarded as dangerous, and the trespassing begins -further on." - -In a few moments we had moored the launch in four feet of water, and -were ashore with a couple of clam-rakes. We had dug a hundred, as we -walked towards the pine-wood, when Duncan straightened up and said: - -"This makes my back ache, and it's blazing hot. I'm going to have a pipe -in the shade, up there." - -I shouldered my rake, and followed him into the wood. As soon as we were -well among the trees, we began to walk quickly up the thin winding path, -which we supposed would lead us to the neighborhood of the house. - -"Not at all promising," said Duncan. "They would never let us ramble -about like this if they had anything to conceal. Just for the fun of it, -we'll go up to the house, and ask if Mr. Chutney Bilge, the novelist, -doesn't live there. You want his autograph, don't you?" - -In five minutes, we had emerged from the pines, and saw before us a very -pleasant looking wooden house with a wide veranda, screened all round -with mosquito-netting, and backed by glimpses of blue sea between dark -pine-trunks. There was not a soul to be seen, and no sign of its -occupants anywhere. We walked up to the porch, pulled open the netted -door in the outer screen, and knocked on the door of the house, which -stood wide open. We waited and listened; but there was no sound except -the ticking of a clock. There was another open door on the right side of -the hall. Duncan felt a sudden impulse to look through it, and tip-toed -quietly forward. He had no sooner looked than he stood as if turned to -stone, with so queer an expression on his face that I instantly came to -his side to see what Medusa had caused it. It seemed a very harmless -Medusa; but I doubt if anything could have startled me more at the -moment. We stood there, staring at a table, laid for lunch. There were -twelve champagne glasses, of a somewhat unusual pattern; and each of -these glasses contained a peach. - - -III - -Before I could be quite sure whether I was dreaming or waking, Duncan -had dashed into the room on the other side of the hall, and grabbed up a -bundle of papers that had been dropped as if by some one in a great -hurry, all over the table. He glanced at one or two. - -"But this,--this--settles it," he cried. "Come out of it quickly." And, -in a few seconds, we were in the cover of the woods again. - -"Schramm himself is over here, apparently. He must have come by U-boat," -Duncan muttered, as we hurried down the path towards our launch. "If -they catch us, we're simply dead and buried, and past praying for." - -"But what does it mean? Where are they? Why the devil have they left -everything open to the first-comer?" - -"Beats me completely. But we'd better not wait to inquire. The next move -is up to Washington." - -"Look here, Duncan, we'd better be careful about our exit from the -woods. If any one happens to have spotted the launch, we may run our -heads into a trap." - -I had an uneasy feeling that we were being watched, and that every -movement we made was plainly seen by a gigantic but invisible spectator, -very much the kind of feeling, I suppose, that insects must have under -the microscope. I felt sure that we were not going to have it all our -own way with this quiet island. Duncan hesitated for a moment, but I was -insistent that we should take a look at our landing place before we left -our cover. It was a characteristic of Duncan that as soon as he had -discovered what he wanted, he became as forthright a sailor as you could -wish to find; and I knew that if we were to escape with whole skins, or -even to make use of our discovery, I should have to exercise my own -wits. Fortunately, my own "impressions" began when his finished; for, -after he had yielded to my persuasion, we made a slight circuit through -the woods, and crept out through the long grass on the top of the -little cliff, overlooking the beach where we had landed. Our clams were -still there, in two neat little dumps. So was the launch, but in the -stern of it there sat a tall red-bearded man, who looked like a -professor, and a couple of sailors. They were all three talking German -in low, excited tones, and they were all three armed with rifles. - -The launch lay almost directly below us, and we could hear some of their -conversation. I gathered that the luncheon party had gone on board a -U-boat which had just arrived, to inspect the latest improvements. -Something had gone wrong. They had submerged; and it seemed to be -doubtful whether they could get her up again. That, of course, was why -the house was deserted and our trespassing unforbidden. It was probably -also the reason why the sentries had been absent, and had only just -discovered our launch on their rounds. One of the sailors was aggrieved, -it seemed to me, that no effort was being made to obtain other help for -the submerged men than the island itself could lend. His best friend was -aboard; and he thought it wicked not to give them a chance, even if it -meant their internment. The red-bearded professor was explaining to -him, however, in the most highly approved style of modern Germany, that -his feelings were by no means logical; and that it was far nobler to -sacrifice one's friends than to endanger the State. - -"But, if the State is a kind of devil," said the sailor, who was a bit -of a logician himself, "I prefer my friends, who in the meantime are -being suffocated." - -"That is a fallacy," the professor was answering. Then, from the -direction of the house, there came a confused sound of shouting. - -A fourth sailor came tearing down the beach like a maniac. - -"Where are the clam-fishers?" he called to the three philosophers. "They -are to be taken, dead or alive." - -At the same moment, I saw the glint of the sun on the revolvers of -several other men, who were advancing through the woods towards the -beach, peering to right and left of them. Without a whisper between us, -Duncan and I crawled off along the cliff, through the thick undergrowth. - -Obviously, the submarine had come to the surface again, and the whole -merry crowd was on our track. The island was not more than a quarter of -a mile in diameter; and I saw no hope of evading our pursuers, of whom -there must be at least twenty, judging from the cries that reached us. -There was nothing for it, but to choose the best place for putting up a -fight; and, as luck would have it, we were already on the best line of -defense. The undergrowth between the cliff's edge and the woods was so -thick that nobody could discover us, except by crawling up the trail by -which we had ourselves entered. It proved to be the only way by which -the cliff's edge could be explored, and we had a full half-mile of the -island's circumference, a long ledge, only a few feet wide, on which we -could crawl in security for the time being, till the hunt came up behind -us. I remember noticing--even in those moments of peril--that the ground -and the bushes were littered with big crab claws and clam shells that -had been dropped and picked there by the sea gulls and crows; and I was -thinking--in some queer way--of the easy life that these birds lead, -when I almost put my hand on a human skull, protruding from a litter of -loose earth, white flakes of shell and crabs' backs. Duncan pulled a -heap of the evil-smelling stuff away with his clam-rake, and bared the -right side of the skeleton. There was a half-rotten clam-rake in the -bony clutch of the dead man. Evidently, somebody else had paid the -penalty before us. The body had been buried, and rain, snow, or the -insatiable sea-gulls had uncovered the yellow-toothed head. - -A few yards further on, the cliff projected so far out that even when -one hung right over the edge, it was only just possible to see where it -met the swirling water, which seemed very deep here. About fifteen yards -out, there was a big boulder of rock, covered with brown sea-weed. - -"Look here, Duncan," I said, "there's only one real chance for us. We've -got to swim to the mainland, but we can't do it by daylight. We've got -to pass six hours till it's dark enough, and there's only one way to do -it. How far can you swim under water?" - -"About fifty feet," he said. "You're going crazy, old man, it's a mile -and a half to the mainland." - -"Duncan, you're a devil of a man for getting into a scrape. But when it -comes to getting out of one, I feel a little safer in my own hands. Can -you get as far as that rock under water?" - -"I think so," he said, and caught on to the suggestion at once. - -The cries were coming along the cliff's edge now, and it was a question -of only half a minute before some of our pursuers would be on the top of -us. - -"Hurry, then. Swim to the north of the rock, and don't come up till -you're on the other side. If you feel yourself rising, grab hold of the -sea-weed, and keep yourself down till you've hauled round the rock. -Quick!" - -There was a crashing in the bushes, not fifty yards away, along the -cliff, as we dived into the clear green water. The plunge carried one -further than I expected, and four or five strokes along the bottom of -the sea brought me to the base of the rock. It was quite easy to turn -it, and I was relieved to find that there was a good ledge for landing -on the further side, only an inch or two above the level of the water, -and quite screened from the island by the rock itself, which was about -ten feet in length, and curved in a half-moon shape, with the horns -pointing towards the mainland. In fact, it was like a large -Chesterfield couch of stone, covered with brown sea-weed, and resolutely -turning its back on the island. We were luckier than I had dared to -hope; and when, in a few seconds, Duncan had coiled himself on the ledge -beside me, I saw by his grin that he thought we had solved the problem -of escape. For five minutes we lay dead still, listening to the clamor -along the cliff from which we had just dived. - -"Thank the Lord, we get the sun here," said Duncan at last, as the -sounds died away. "There's only one thing that worries me now. What are -we to do when they come round in a boat?" - -"They won't think of that for some time," I said, "but when they do, we -must take to the water again, and work round behind the rock. We ought -to be able to keep it between us and the blighters, with any luck. We've -only got to keep enough above water to breathe with; and I've seen some -fine camouflage done with a little sea-weed before now." - -We looked at the yard-long fringes of brown sea-weed, and decided that -it would be possible to defy anything but the closest inspection of our -rock by the simple process of sliding down into the water and pulling -the sea-weed over our heads, on the side next to the island. There was a -reef which would prevent a boat passing on that side. - -Our clothes were almost dried by the blazing sun before we were -disturbed again. Duncan was ruefully contemplating a corn-cob pipe, -which he affirmed had been ruined by the salt water. He poked the stem -at a huge sea-anemone, which immediately sucked it in, and held it as -firmly as a smoker's mouth, with so ludicrous an effect that Duncan's -risible faculties were dangerously moved. I was half afraid of one of -his volcanic guffaws, when we both heard a sound that struck us -dumb,--the sound of oars coming steadily in our direction. We slipped -into the water, according to plan, hauled ourselves round behind the -rock, and drew the long thick fringes of sea-weed over our heads. We -held ourselves anchored there by the brown stems, and kept little more -than our noses above the water. No concealment could have been more -complete. The boat passed on; and in five minutes we were back again on -our ledge, and drying in the sun. - -"Good Lord," said Duncan, suddenly, "that was a near shave. I'd -forgotten that beastly thing." - -He pointed to the sea-anemone, which was still sucking at the yellow -corn-cob pipe. It looked like the bristling red mouth of some drunken -and half-submerged sea-god, and could hardly have been missed by the -boat's crew, if they had been looking for anything like it. - -"Lord, what a shave!" he said again. "What would Schramm have said if he -had seen it!" - -Then, as we stared at the absurd marine creature, we rocked in silent -spasms of mirth--human beings are made of a very queer clay--picturing -the bewildered faces of the Boches at a sight which would have meant our -death. - -The sense of humor was benumbed in both of us before long. The sun was -dropping low, and we did not dry as quickly as before. There was a -stillness on the island, which boded no good, I thought, though our -pursuers evidently believed that we had escaped them. - -"They probably think we swam ashore earlier in the game," said Duncan. -"They must be sick at not having spotted us." - -"I wonder what they are up to now?" - -"Probably destroying evidence, and getting ready to clear out, if they -really have a notion that their big men over here may be involved. -Unfortunately, these papers don't give anything away, so far as I can -see except that they're addressed to Schramm; but it's quite obvious -what they were doing." - -We lay still and waited, listening to the strangely peaceful lapping of -the water round our rock, and watching the big sea-perch and rock-cod -that moved like shadows below. - -"I wonder if that fellow suspects mischief," said Duncan, pointing over -the cliff. "By Jove! isn't he splendid?" - -Over the highest point of the island a white-headed eagle was mounting, -in great, slow, sweeping circles, without one beat of the long, dark -wings that must have measured seven feet from tip to tip. - -"It's too splendid to be the German eagle. Praise the Lord, it's the -native species; and he's taking his time because he has to take wide -views. He has to soar high enough to get his bearings." - -Up and up, the glorious creature circled, till he dwindled in the -dazzling blue to the size of a sea-gull; and still he wheeled and -mounted, till he became a black dot no bigger than an English sky-lark. -Then he moved, like a bullet, due east. - -"I almost believe in omens," said Duncan. "Ah, look out! There they -come!" - -The masts of a large yacht, which must have emerged from the private -harbor of which Captain Humphrey spoke, came slowly round the island. We -had only just time to slip into the water, behind our rock, before she -came into full view. She passed so near to us that the low sun cast the -traveling shadows of her railing almost within reach of my hand; and the -shadows of her two boats on the port side came along the clear green -water between us and the island, like the gray ghosts of some old -pirate's dinghies. - -She must have been still in sight, and we were still in our -hiding-place, when it seemed as if the island tried to leap towards the -sky, and we were deafened by a terrific concussion. Fragments of wood, -and great pieces of stone, dropped all round us in the poppling water, -and more than one deadly missile struck the rock itself. - -"They've blown up the whole show!" cried Duncan. "There can't be -anybody left alive on the island!" - -We waited--ten minutes or more--to see if other explosions were to -follow. Then we swam for clam-beach to investigate. It was littered with -fragments of the buildings that had been destroyed. The tarred roof of a -shed had been dropped there almost intact, as if from the claws of some -gigantic eagle. The pine-wood looked as if it had been subjected to a -barrage fire; and, in many places, the undergrowth was burning -furiously. - -We dashed up the path, with the smoke stinging our eyes, towards the -dull red glow, which was already beginning to rival the deepening -crimson of the Maine sunset. The central portion of the house was still -standing, though much of it had been blown bodily away, and the fire was -laying fierce hands upon it from all sides. We turned to the north, -where we supposed the wharf had been. The remains of half a dozen sheds -were burning on one side of the cove, and it looked as if half the cliff -had been tumbled into it on the other. - -The heat of the fire along the wharf was so fierce that we turned back -to the house again. - -"Well," said Duncan, "there's evidence enough to give a few good -headlines to the neutral press,--'_Gasoline Explosion on Maine Coast! -Wealthy New Yorker Escapes Death in Fiery Furnace!_' Fortunately, -there's also enough for Washington to lay up in its memory." - -Another section of the house fell as we looked at it; and we saw the -interior of the dining-room, with the flames licking up the three -remaining walls. By one of those curious freaks of high-explosive, the -table was hardly disarranged; and our last glimpse of it, through a -fringe of fire, showed us those twelve queer champagne glasses. They -stood there, flickering like evil goblins, a peach in every glass.... - -We watched them for five minutes. Then the whole scintillating fabric -collapsed; and we sat down to wait for the frantic motor-boat, which was -already thumping towards us, with the reporter of the _Rockport -Sentinel_ furiously writing in her bows. - - - - -VIII - -MAY MARGARET - - - "_Clerk Sanders and May Margaret - Walked ower yon garden green, - And sad and heavy was the love - That fell thae twa between._" - -May Margaret was an American girl, married to a lieutenant in the -British Army named Brian Davidson. When the regretful telegram from the -War Office, announcing his death in action, was delivered to her in her -London apartment, she read it without a quiver, crumpled it up, threw it -into the fire, and leaned her head against her arm, under his photograph -on the mantel-piece. When her heart began to beat again, she went to her -bedroom and locked the door. This was not the Anglo-American love-affair -of fiction. Both of them were poverty-stricken in the estimation of -their friends; and it was only by having her black evening dress "done -over," and practising other strict economies for a whole year, that May -Margaret had been able to sail from New York to work in an European -hospital. The marriage had taken place a little more than three months -ago, while Davidson was home on a few days' leave. - -After the announcement of his death, she did not emerge from her room -until the usual letter arrived from the front, explaining with the usual -helplessness of the brother officer, that Davidson was really "one of -the best," that "everybody liked him," and that "he was the life and -soul of his company." But the letter contained one thing that she was -not expecting, an official photograph of the grave, a quarter-plate -picture of an oblong of loose earth, marked with a little cross made, -apparently, of two sticks of kindling wood. And it was this that had -brought her back to life again. It was so strangely matter-of-fact, so -small, so complete, that it brought her out of the great dark spaces of -her grief. It reminded her of something that Davidson had once written -in a letter from the trenches. "Things out here are not nearly so bad as -people at home imagine. At home, one pictures the war as a great blaze -of horror. Out here, things become more sharply defined, as the lights -of a city open up when you approach them, or as the Milky Way splits -itself up into points of light under the telescope. I have never seen a -dead body yet that looked more imposing than a suit of old clothes. The -real man was somewhere else." - -She examined the photograph with a kind of curiosity. In this new sense -of the reality of death, the rattle of the traffic outside had grown -strange and dreamlike, and the rattle of the tea-things and the smell of -the buttered toast which an assiduous, but discreet landlady placed at -her side, seemed as fantastic and remote as any fairy-tale. All the -trivial details of the life around her had assumed a new and mysterious -quality. She seemed to be moving in a phantasmagorical world. The round -red face of the landlady came and went like the goblin things you may -see over your shoulder in a looking-glass at twilight. And the center of -all this insubstantial dream-stuff was that one vivid oblong of loose -earth, marked with two sticks of kindling wood, in the neat and sharply -defined official photograph. - -There was something that looked like a black thread entwining the arms -of the tiny cross; and she puzzled over it stupidly, wondering what it -could be. "I suppose I could write and ask," she said to herself. Then -an over-mastering desire seized her. She must go and see it. She must go -and see the one fragment of the earth that remained to her, if only for -the reason that there, perhaps, she might find the relief of tears. But -she had another reason also, a reason that she would never formulate, -even to herself, an over-mastering impulse from the depths of her being. - -May Margaret had no intimate friends in London. She had established -herself in these London lodgings with the cosmopolitan independence of -the American girl, whose own country contains distances as great as that -from London to Petrograd. The world shrinks a little when your own -country is a continent; and it was with no sense of remoteness that she -now went to the telephone and rang up the London office of the _Chicago -Bulletin_. - -"I want to speak to Mr. Harvey," she said. "Is this Mr. Harvey? This is -Mrs. Davidson,--Margaret Grant--you remember, don't you? I want to see -you about something very important. You are sending people out to the -front all the time, aren't you, in connection with your newspapers? -Well, I want to know if you can arrange for me to go.... Yes, as a woman -correspondent.... Oh, they don't allow it? Not at the British front?... -Well, I've got to arrange it somehow.... Won't you come and see me and -talk it over?... All right, at six-thirty. Good-by." - -The official photograph was still in her hand when Mr. William K. -Harvey, of the _Chicago Bulletin_, was announced. He was a very young -man to be managing the London office of a great newspaper, but this was -not a disadvantage for May Margaret's purpose. - -"So you want to go to the front," he said, settling down into the -arm-chair on the other side of the fire. "It would certainly make a -great story. We ought to be able to syndicate it all through the Middle -West; but you'll have to give up the idea of the British front. We might -manage the French front, I think." - -"But I want particularly to go to Arras. Surely, you can manage it, Mr. -Harvey. You must know all sorts of influential people here." Her voice, -with its husky contralto notes, rather like those of a boy whose voice -has lately broken, had always an appeal for Mr. Harvey, and it was -particularly pleasing just then. He beamed through his glasses and ran -his hand through his curly hair. - -"I was talking to Sir William Robertson about a very similar proposition -only yesterday, and Sir William told me that he'd do anything on earth -for the _Chicago Bulletin_, but the War Office, which is in heaven, had -decided finally to allow no women correspondents at the British front." - -May Margaret rose and went to the window. For a moment she pressed her -brow against the cool glass and, as she stared hopelessly at the busses -rumbling by, an idea came to her. She wondered that she had not thought -of it before. - -"Come here, Mr. Harvey," she said. "I want to show you something." - -He joined her at the window. A bus had halted by the opposite pavement. -The conductor was swinging lightly down by the hand-rail, a very -youthful looking conductor, in breeches and leggings. - -"Is that a man or a woman?" said May Margaret. - -"A woman, isn't it?" - -"And that?" She pointed to another figure striding by in blue overalls -and a slouch hat. - -"I don't know. There are so many of them about now, that on general -principles, I guess it's a woman. Besides, it looks as if it would be in -the army if it were not a woman." - -"Yes, but I am an American correspondent," said May Margaret. - -"Gee!" said Mr. Harvey, surveying her from head to foot. His face looked -as if all the printing presses of the _Chicago Bulletin_ were silently -at work behind it. She was tall and lean--a college friend had described -her exactly as "half goddess and half gawk." Her face was of the -open-air type. Her hair would have to be cropped, of course. "Gee!" he -said again. "It would be the biggest scoop of the war." - -A fortnight later, a slender youth in khaki-colored clothes, with -leggings, arrived at the Foreign Office, presented a paper to a sad-eyed -messenger in the great hall, and was led to the disreputable old lift -which, as usual, bore a notice to the effect that it was not working -to-day. The sad-eyed messenger heaved the usual sigh, and led the way up -three flights of broad stone stairs to a very dark waiting-room. There -were three other young men in the room, but it was almost impossible to -see their faces. - -"Mr. Grant, of the _Tribune_, wasn't it, sir?" said the messenger. - -"Mr. Martin Grant, of the _Chicago Bulletin_," said May Margaret, and -the messenger shuffled into the distance along a gloomy corridor which -seemed to be older than any tomb of the Pharaohs, and destined to last -as long again. - -In a few minutes, a young Englishman, who looked like an army officer in -mufti, but was really a clerk in the Foreign Office, named Julian -Sinclair, was making himself very charming to the four correspondents. -To one of them he talked very fluently in Spanish: to another he spoke -excellent Swedish, bridging several moments of misunderstanding with -smiles and gestures that would have done credit to a Macchiavelli; to -the third, because he was a Greek, he spoke French; and to Martin Grant, -because he was an American, he spoke the language of George Washington, -and behaved as if he were a fellow-countryman of slightly different, -possibly more broad-minded, but certainly erroneous politics. - -Then he gave them all a few simple directions. He was going to have the -pleasure of escorting them to the front. It was necessary that they -should be accompanied by some one from the Foreign Office, he explained, -in order to save them trouble; and they had been asked to meet him there -to-day for purposes of identification and to get their passports. These -would have to be stamped by both the British and French military -authorities at an address which he gave them, and they would please meet -him at Charing Cross Station at twelve o'clock to-morrow morning. It was -all very simple, and Mr. Martin Grant felt greatly relieved. - -There was a drizzle of rain the next morning, for which May Margaret was -grateful. It was a good excuse for appearing at the station in the -Burberry raincoat, which gave her not only a respite from -self-consciousness, but an almost military air. Her cloth cap, too, the -peak of which filled her strong young face with masculine shadows, -approximated to the military shape. It was a wise choice; for the soft -slouch hat, which she had tried at first, had persistently assumed a -feminine aspect, an almost absurdly picturesque effect, no matter how -she twisted it or pulled it down on her close-cropped head. - -She was the first of the party to arrive, and when Julian Sinclair -hurried along the platform with the three foreign correspondents, there -was no time left for conversation before they were locked in their -compartment of the military train. They were the only civilians aboard. - -She dropped into a corner seat with her newspaper. But her eyes and -brain were busy with the scene outside. The train was crammed with -troops, just as it had been on that other day when she stood outside on -the platform, like those other women there, and said good-by to Brian. -She was living it all over again, as she watched those farewells; but -she felt nearer to him now, as if she were seeing things from his own -side, almost as if she had broken through the barriers and taken some -dream-train to the next world, in order to follow him. - -There was a very young soldier leaning from the window of the next -compartment. He was talking to a girl with a baby in her arms. Her wide -eyes were fixed on his face with the same solemn expression as those of -the child, dark innocent eyes with the haunted beauty of a Madonna. They -were trying to say something to each other, but the moment had made them -strangers, and they could not find the words. - -"You'll write," she said faintly. - -He nodded and smiled airily. A whistle blew. There was a banging of -doors, and a roar of cheering. The little mother moved impulsively -forward, climbed on to the footboard, threw her right arm around the -neck of her soldier, and drew his face down to her own. - -"Stand back there," bellowed the porters. But the girl's arm was locked -round the lad's neck as if she were drowning, and they took no notice. -The train began to move. A crippled soldier, in blue hospital uniform -and red tie, hobbled forward on his crutch, and took hold of the girl. - -"Break away," he said gruffly. "Break away, lass." - -He pulled her back to the platform. Then he hobbled forward with the -moving train and spoke to the young soldier. - -"If you meet the blighter wot gave me this," he said, pointing to his -amputated thigh, "you give 'im 'ell for _me_!" - -It was a primitive appeal, but the boy pulled himself together -immediately, as the veteran face, so deeply plowed with suffering, -savagely confronted his own. And, as the train moved on, and the wounded -man stood there, upright on his crutch, May Margaret saw that there were -tears in those fierce eyes--eyes so much older than their years--and a -tenderness in the coarse face that brought her heart into her throat. - -The journey to Folkestone was all a dream, a dream that she was glad to -be dreaming, because she was now on the other side of the barrier that -separated people at home from those at the front. The queerest thoughts -passed through her mind. She understood for a moment the poor groping -endeavors of the war-bereft to break through those darker barriers of -the material world, and get into touch, no matter how vaguely, with the -world beyond. She felt that in some strange way she was succeeding. - -They had lunch on the train. She forced herself to drink some black -coffee, and nibble at some tepid mutton. She was vaguely conscious that -the correspondents were enjoying themselves enormously at the expense of -the State, and she shuddered at the grotesque sense of humor which she -discovered amongst her thoughts at this moment. - -The Channel-crossing on the troop-ship brought her nearer yet. There was -hardly standing-room on any of the decks, and the spectacle was a very -strange one, for all the crowded ranks in khaki, officers and men, had -been ordered to wear life-belts. A hospital ship which had just arrived -was delivering its loads of wounded men to the docks, and these also -were wearing life-belts. - -The sunset-light was fading as the troop-ship moved out, and the seas -had that peculiar iridescent smoothness, as of a delicately tinted skin -of very faintly burning oils, which they so often wear when the wind -falls at evening. On one side of the ship a destroyer was plowing -through white mounds of foam; and overhead there was one of the new -silver-skinned scouting air-ships. - -Away to the east, a great line of transports was returning home with the -wounded, and the horizon was one long stream of black smoke. It was all -so peaceful that the life-belts seemed an anomaly, and it was difficult -to realize the full meaning of this traffic. The white cliffs of England -wore a spiritual aspect that only the hour and its grave significance -could lend them; and May Margaret thought that England had never looked -so beautiful. There were other troop-ships all crowded, about to follow, -and their cheers came faintly across the water. The throb of the engines -carried May Margaret's ship away rhythmically, and somewhere on the -lower deck a mouth organ began playing, almost inaudibly, "It's a Long, -Long Way to Tipperary." The troops were humming the tune, too softly for -it to be called singing, and it all blended with the swish of the water -and the hum of the engine-room, like a memory of other voices, lost in -France and Flanders. May Margaret looked down at the faces. They, too, -were grave and beautiful with evening light; and the brave unquestioning -simplicity of it all seemed to her an inexpressibly noble thing. She -thought for a moment that no pipes among the mists of glen or mountain, -no instrument on earth, ever had the beauty of that faint music. It was -one of those unheard melodies that are better than any heard. The sea -bore the burden. The winds breathed it in undertone; and its message was -one of a peace that she could not understand. Perhaps, under and above -all the tragedies of the hour, the kingdom of heaven was there. - -The cliffs became ghostly in the distance, and suddenly on the dusky -waters astern there shone a great misty star. It was the first flash of -the shore searchlights, and May Margaret watched it flashing long after -the English coast had disappeared. Then she lost the searchlight also; -and the transport was left, with the dark destroyer, to find its way, -through whatever perils there might be, to the French coast. Millions of -men--she had read it--had been transported, despite mines and -submarines, without the loss of a single life. She had often wondered -how it was possible. Now she saw the answer. - -A little black ship loomed up ahead of them and flashed a signal to -their escort. Far through the dusk she saw them, little black trawlers -and drifters, _Lizzie_ and _Maggie_ and _Betsy Jane_, signaling all that -human courage could discover, of friend or foe, on the face of the -waters or under them. - -In a very short time they caught the first glimpse of the searchlights -on the French coast; and, soon afterwards, they drew into a dark harbor, -amid vague cheerings and occasional bursts of the "Marseillaise" from -wharves thronged with soldiers of a dozen nationalities. A British -officer edged his way through the crowd below them on the quay, and -waved his hand to Julian Sinclair. - -"Ah, there's our military guide, Captain Crump. Now, if you'll follow me -and keep together, we'll get our passports examined quickly, and join -him," said the latter, obviously relieved at the prospect of sharing his -neutrals with a fellow-countryman. - -There followed a brief, but very exact, scrutiny and stamping of papers -by an aquiline gentleman whose gold-rimmed spectacles suggested a -microscopical carefulness; a series of abrupt introductions to Captain -Crump on the gloomy wharf; a hasty bite and sup in a station restaurant, -where blue uniforms mingled with khaki, and some red-tabbed British -staff-officers, at the next table, were drinking wine with some turbaned -Indian Princes. It was a strange glimpse of color and light rifting the -darkness for a moment. Then they followed Captain Crump again, through -great tarpaulined munition-dumps and loaded motor-lorries, to the two -motor-cars behind the station. In these they were whirled, at forty -miles an hour, along one of the poplar-bordered roads of France that -seemed to-night as ghostly as those titanic alleys of Ulalume, in the -song of May Margaret's national poet. Once or twice, as they passed -through a cluster of cottages, the night-wind brought a whiff of -iodoform, and reminded her that flesh and blood were fighting with pain -and death somewhere in that darkness. - -Every few minutes they passed troops of dark marching men. Several times -it seemed to her that she recognized the face for which she was looking, -in some momentary glimmer of starlight. - -At last they reached the village where the guests of G. H. Q. were to be -quartered. The foreigners were assigned to the château which was used as -a guest-house; but there had been one or two unexpected arrivals, and -Captain Crump asked the American correspondent if he would mind -occupying a room in the house of the curé, a hundred yards away up the -village street. The American correspondent was exceedingly glad to do -so, and was soon engaged in attempts at conversation with the friendly -old man in the black cassock who did his best to make her welcome. There -were no more difficulties for her that night, except that the curé had -very limited notions as to the amount of water she required for washing. - -They set out early the next morning on their way to that part of the -front which she had particularly asked to see. The long straight -poplar-bordered road, bright with friendly sunshine now, absorbed her. -She heard the chatter of the correspondents at her side as in a dream. - -"Have you read Anatole France?" said the Spaniard. (He was anxious for -improving conversation, and wore a velvet coat totally unsuited to the -expedition.) But May Margaret's every thought was plodding along with -the plodding streams of dusty, footsore men, in steel hats, and she did -not answer. She pointed vaguely to the women working in the fields to -save the harvest, and the anti-aircraft guns that watched the sky from -behind the sheaves. At every turn she saw something that reminded her of -things she had seen before, in some previous existence, when she had -lived in the life of her lover and traveled through it all with his own -eyes. She was passing through his existence again. He was part of all -this: these camps by the roadside, where soldiers, brown as gipsies, -rambled about with buckets; these endless processions of motor-lorries, -with men and munitions and guns all streaming to the north on every -road, as if whole nations were setting out on a pilgrimage and taking -their possessions with them; these endless processions of closed -ambulances returning, marked with the Red Cross. - -Once, over a bare brown stretch of open country, a magnificent body of -Indian cavalry swept towards them, every man sitting his horse like a -prince; and the British officers, with their sun-burned faces and dusky -turbans, hardly distinguishable from their native troops. - -"Glorious, aren't they?" said Sinclair, leaning back from his place -beside the chauffeur. "But they haven't had a chance yet. If only we -could get the Boches out of their burrows and loose our cavalry at -them!" - -She nodded her head; but her thoughts were elsewhere. This picturesque -display seemed to belong to a bygone age; it was quite unrelated to -this war of chemists and spectacled old men who disbelieved in chivalry, -laughed at right and wrong, and had killed the happiness of the entire -world. - -She noticed, whenever they passed a village or a farm-house, or even a -cattle-shed now, that the smell of iodoform brooded over everything. All -these wounded acres of France were breathing it out like the scent of -some strange new summer blossoms. A hundred yards away from the ruined -outhouses of every village she began to breathe it. Her senses were -unusually keen, but it dominated the summer air so poignantly that she -could not understand why these meticulously vivid men--the foreign -correspondents--were unaware of it. It turned the whole countryside into -a series of hospital wards; and the Greek was now disputing with the -Spaniard about home-rule for Ireland. - -At last, in the distance, they heard a new sound that enlarged the -horizon as when one approaches the sea. It was the mutter of the guns, a -deep many-toned thunder, rolling up and dying away, but without a single -break, incessant as the sound of the Atlantic in storm. - -The cars halted in what had once been a village, and was now a rubbish -heap of splinters and scarred walls and crumbling mortar. - -The correspondents alighted and followed Captain Crump across a broad -open plain, pitted with shell-holes. The incessant thunder of the guns -deepened as they went. - -"Don't touch anything without consulting me," snapped Crump at the -Spaniard, who was nosing round an unexploded shell and thinking of -souvenirs. "The Boches have a charming trick of leaving things about -that may go off in your hands. A chap picked up a spiked helmet here the -other day. They buried him in the graveyard that Mr. Grant wants to see. -It's a very small grave. There wasn't much left of him." - -The burial-ground lay close under a ridge of hills, and they approached -it through a maze of recently captured German trenches. It was a strange -piece of sad ordered gardening in a devastated world. Every minute or -two the flash and shock of a concealed howitzer close at hand shook the -loose earth on the graves, but only seemed to emphasize the still sleep -of this acre. It held a great regiment of graves, mounds of fresh-turned -earth in soldierly ranks, most of them marked with tiny wooden crosses, -rough bits of kindling wood. Some of the crosses bore names, written in -pencil. There was one that bore the names of six men, and the grave was -hardly large enough for a child. They had been blown to pieces by a -single shell. - -They passed through the French section first. Here there was an austere -poetry, a simplicity that approached the sublime in the terrible -regularity of the innumerably repeated inscription, "_Mort pour la -France_." In the British section there was a striking contrast. There -was not a word of patriotism; but, though the graves were equally -regular, an individuality of inscription that interested the Spanish -correspondent greatly. - -"It is here we pass from Racine to Shakespeare," he said, pointing to a -wooden cross that bore the words: - - "_In loving memory of Jim, - From his old pal, - The artful dodger, - 'Gone but not forgotten.'_" - -"No, no, no," cried the Greek correspondent, greatly excited by the -literary suggestion. "From Flaubert to Dickens! Is it not so, Captain -Crump?" - -Captain Crump grunted vaguely and moved on towards the soldier in -charge. May Margaret followed him, the photograph in her hand. - -"We want to find number forty-eight," said Captain Crump. - -The soldier saluted and led the way to the other end of the ground. Many -of the graves here had not been named. There had evidently been some -disaster which made it difficult. Some of them carried the -identification disc. - -"This is number forty-eight, sir," said the soldier, pausing before a -mound that May Margaret knew already by heart. "May I look at the -photograph, sir? Yes. You see, that's the rosary--that black -thing--round the cross." - -"The rosary! I don't understand." May Margaret looked at the string of -beads on the cross that bore the name of Brian Davidson. - -"I suppose he was a Roman Catholic, sir. They must have taken it from -the body." - -"No, he was not a Catholic," whispered May Margaret. She felt as if she -must drop on her knees and call on the mute earth to speak, to explain, -to tell her who lay beneath. - -"There must be a mistake," she said at last, and her own voice rang in -her ears like the voice of a stranger. "I must find out. How can I find -out?" - -Her face was bloodless as she confronted Captain Crump. - -"There's some terrible mistake," she said again. "I can't face his -people at home till I find out. He may be--" But that awful word of hope -died on her lips. - -"I'll do my best," said Captain Crump. "It's very odd, certainly; but I -shouldn't--er--hope for too much. You see, if he were living, they -wouldn't have been likely to overlook it. It's possible that he may be -there, or there." He pointed to two graves without a name. "Or again, he -may be missing, of course, or a prisoner. His lot are down at Arras now. -We'll get into touch with them to-morrow and I'll make inquiries. You -want to pass a night in the trenches, don't you? I think it can be -arranged for you to go to that section to-morrow night. Then we can kill -two birds with one stone." - -May Margaret thanked him. Behind them, she heard, with that strange -sense of double meanings which the most commonplace accidents of life -can awake at certain moments--the voice of one of the correspondents, -still arguing with the others. "Here, if you like, is Shakespeare," he -said: - - "_How should I your true love know - From another one._" - -The quotation, lilted inanely as a nursery rime, pierced her heart like -a flight of silver arrows. - -"You have not a very pleasant business," the correspondent continued, -addressing a soldier at work in an open grave. - -"I've 'ad two years in the trenches, sir, and I'm glad to get it," he -replied. - -"Little Christian crosses, planted against the heathen, creeping nearer -and nearer to the Rhine," murmured Julian Sinclair, on the other side of -May Margaret. - -The multiplicity of the ways in which it seemed possible for both -soldiers and civilians to regard the war was beginning to rob her of the -power to think. - -On their way back, through the dusk, they passed a body of men marching -to the trenches, with a song that she had heard Brian humming: - - "_Fat Fritz went out, all camouflaged, like a beautiful bumble-bee, - With daffodil stripes and 'airy legs to see what he could see, - By the light of the moon, in No Man's Land, he climbed an apple tree - And he put on his big round spectacles, to look for gay Paree._ - - _But I don't suppose he'll do it again - For months, and months, and months; - But I don't suppose he'll do it again - For months, and month, and months; - For Archie is only a third class shot, - But he brought him down at once,_ - - _AND_ - - _I don't suppose he'll do it again - For months, and months, and months._" - -Soon afterwards, with all these themes interchanging in her bewildered -mind, May Margaret heard Julian Sinclair calling through the dark from -the car ahead: "Take a good look at the next village; it's called -Crécy." The stars that watched the ancient bowmen had nothing new to -tell her; but a few minutes later, as another body of troops came -tramping through the dark to another stanza of their song, there seemed -to be an ancient and unconquerable mass of marching harmonies within the -lilt of the Cockney ballad; like the mass of the sea behind the breaking -wave: - - "_'E called 'em the Old Contemptibles, - But 'e only did it once, - And I don't suppose 'e'll do it again, - For months, and months, and months._" - -They dined at the château, and she slipped away early to the house of -the curé. Before she slept, she took out Brian's last letter and read -it. She sat on the narrow bed, under the little black crucifix with the -ivory Christ looking down at her from the bare wall. She was glad that -it was there; for it embodied the master-thought of that day's -pilgrimage. Never before had she realized how that symbol was dominating -this war; how it was repeated and repeated over thousands of acres of -young men's graves; and with what a new significance the wayside crosses -of France were now stretching out their arms in the night of disaster. - -In Brian's letter there was very little about himself. He had always -been somewhat impatient of the "lyrical people," as he called them, who -were "so eloquently introspective" about the war, and he had carried his -prejudice even into his correspondence. She was reading his letter again -to-night because she remembered that it expressed something of her own -bewilderment at the multiplicity of ways in which people were talking -and thinking of the international tragedy. "I have heard," he wrote, -"every possible kind of opinion out here, with the exception of one. I -have never heard any one suggest any possible end for this war but the -defeat of the Hun. But I _have_ heard, over and over again, ridicule of -the idea that this war is going to end war, or even make the world -better. - -"Along with that, I've often heard praise of the very militaristic -system that we are trying so hard to abolish altogether. Of course, this -is only among certain sets of men. But this war has become a war of -ideas; and ideas are not always contained or divided by the lines of -trenches. We are fighting things out amongst ourselves, in all the -belligerent countries, and the most crying need of the Allies to-day is -a leader who can crystallize their own truest thoughts and ideals for -them. - -"You know what my dream was, always, in the days when I was trying my -prentice hand in literature. I wanted to help in the greatest work of -modern times--the task of bringing your country and mine together. Our -common language (and that implies so much more than people realize) is -the greatest political factor in the modern world; and, thank God, it's -beyond the reach of the politicians. In England, we exaggerate the -importance of the mere politician. We do not realize the supreme glory -of our own inheritance; or even the practical aspects of it; the -practical value of the fact that every city and town and village over -the whole of your continent paid homage to Shakespeare during the -tercentenary. Carlyle was right when he compared that part of our -inheritance with the Indian Empire. It is in our literature that we can -meet and read each other's hearts and minds, and that has been our -greatest asset during the war. Think what it will mean when two hundred -million people, thirty years hence, in North America, are reading that -literature and sharing it. Shelley understood it. You remember what he -says in the 'Revolt of Islam.' The Germans understand, that's why -they're so anxious to introduce compulsory German into your schools and -colleges. But our own reactionaries are afraid to understand it. - -"After all, this war is only a continuation of the Revolutionary war, -when the Englishmen who signed the Declaration of Independence fought an -army of hired Germans, directed by Germans. Even their military maps -were drawn up in German. It's the same war, and the same cause, and I -believe that the New World eventually will come into it. Then we shall -have a real leadership. The scheming reactionaries in Europe will fail -to keep us apart. We shall yet see our flags united. And then despite -all the sneers of the little folk, on both sides of the Atlantic, we -shall be able to suppress barbarism in Europe and say (as you and I have -said): _Those whom God hath joined let no man put asunder._ - -"There seems to be an epidemic of verse among the armies. I haven't -caught it very badly yet; but these were some of my symptoms in a spare -moment last week: - - "_How few are they that voyage through the night, - On that eternal quest, - For that strange light beyond our light, - That rest beyond our rest._ - - _And they who, seeking beauty, once descry - Her face, to most unknown; - Thenceforth like changelings from the sky - Must walk their road alone._ - - _So once I dreamed. So idle was my mood; - But now, before these eyes, - From those foul trenches, black with blood, - What radiant legions rise._ - - _And loveliness over the wounded earth awakes - Like wild-flowers in the Spring. - Out of the mortal chrysalis breaks - Immortal wing on wing._ - - _They rise like flowers, they wander on wings of light, - Through realms beyond our ken. - The loneliest soul is companied to-night - By hosts of unknown men._" - - -II - -At ten o'clock the next morning, the two cars were moving at sixty miles -an hour along a road that ran parallel with the German trenches. There -was a slight screen of canvas to hide the traffic, for the road by -Dead-Man's-Corner was not the safest way into Arras at that time. But -they reached the city without misadventure, and May Margaret felt nearer -now than ever to the secret of the quest. - -No dream was ever so strange as this great echoing shell of the deserted -city where he, too, had walked so recently. He, too, had passed along -these cracked pavements, keeping close to the wall, in order to escape -observation from the enemy, whose lines ran through one end of the city -at this moment. He had seen these pitiful interiors of shattered houses, -where sometimes the whole front had been blown away, leaving the -furniture still intact on two floors, and even pictures, a little askew, -on the walls. He had seen that little black crucifix over that bed; -crossed this grass-grown square; and gone into the shattered -railway-station, where the many-colored tickets were strewn like autumn -leaves over the glass-littered floor. The Spaniard filled his pockets -with them. - -They went down a narrow street to the ruins of the cathedral. On one of -the deserted houses there was a small placard advertising the Paris -edition of a London paper, the only sign of the outside world in all -that echoing solitude. The neutrals rejoiced greatly before a deserted -insurance office, which still displayed an advertisement of its -exceedingly reasonable rates for the lives of peaceful citizens. Their -merriment was stopped abruptly by a hollow boom that shook the whole -city and rumbled echoing along the deserted streets from end to end. - -"That's a Boche shell," said Crump. "It sounds as if they've got the -cathedral again." - -At noon they lunched under the lee of a hill just outside Arras, that -had been drenched with blood a few weeks earlier. The great seas of -thunder ebbed and flowed incessantly from sky to sky, as if the hill -were the one firm island in the universe and all the rest were breaking -up and washing around them. The amazing incongruity of things bewildered -May Margaret again. It was more fantastic than any dream. They sat there -at ease, eating chicken, munching sandwiches, filling their cups with -red wine and white, and ending with black coffee, piping hot from the -thermos bottle. Great puffs of brown smoke rose in the distance where -our shells were dropping along the German line. It looked as if the -trees were walking out from a certain distant wood. Little blue rings of -smoke rose from the peaceful cigarettes around her. Bees and butterflies -came and went through the sunshine; and, in the stainless blue sky -overhead there was a rush and rumor as of invisible trains passing to -and fro. The neutrals amused themselves by trying to distinguish between -our own and the enemy shells. - -At two o'clock Crump rose. "I'll take you along now, Grant, if you are -ready," he said. "The rest of you wait here. I shall be back in about -ten minutes." - -May Margaret stumbled after him down the hill. At the foot, a soldier -was waiting; and, hardly conscious of the fact that she had exchanged -one guide for another, she found herself plodding silently beside him on -her unchanging quest, toward the communication trenches. - -"What do they think about things in England, sir?" said her new -companion at last, with a curiously suppressed eagerness. - -"They are very hopeful," said May Margaret. - -"When do they think it will be over?" - -"Some of them say in six months." - -"Ah, yes. I've been here three years now, and they always say that. At -the end of the six months they'll say it again." - -It was the first open note of depression that May Margaret had heard. -"Do most of the men feel like that?" she said. - -"They don't say so, sir, but they all want it to be over." Then he -added, with the doggedness of his kind, "Not till we get what we're -fighting for, of course. You're a correspondent, sir, aren't you? Well, -I never seen the real fax put in the papers yet. There was one of these -soldier writers the other day. I saw his book in the Y. M. C. A. hut. He -said that the only time he nearly broke his heart was when there was a -rumor that Germany was asking for peace before he was able to get into -it hisself. That's what I call bloody selfish, sir. All this poytry! (he -spat into a shell-hole) making pictures out of it and talking about -their own souls. Mind you I'm all for finishing it properly; but it -ain't right, the way they look at it. It's like saying they're glad the -Belgians had their throats cut because it's taught their own bloody -selves the beauty of sacrifice. If what they say is true, why in the -hell do they want the war ever to stop at all? P'raps if it went on for -ever, we should all of us learn the bloody beauty of it, and keep on -learning it till there wasn't any one left. There was a member of -Parliament out here the other day. He saw three poor chaps trying to -wash in a mine-crater full of muddy water. Covered with lice they was. -The paper described it afterwards. The right honorable gentleman laughed -'artily, it said, same as they say about royalty. Always laughing -'artily. P'raps he didn't laugh. I dunno about that. But if he did, I'd -like him to 'ave a taste of the fun hisself." - -They were entering the long tunnel of the communication-trench now. The -soldier went ahead, and May Margaret followed, through smells of earth, -and the reek of stale uniforms, for a mile or more, till they came to -the alert eyes along the fire-step of the front-line trench. - -"Here's Major Hilton, sir." A lean young man with a thin aquiline nose -and a face of Indian red approached them, stepping like a cat along the -trench. - -"Mr. Grant," he said. - -May Margaret nodded, and they were about to shake hands, when one side -of the trench seemed to rise up and smash against their faces, with a -roar that stunned them. May Margaret picked herself up at once, wiping -the bits of grit out of her eyes. The bombardment appeared to be growing -in intensity. - -"That was pretty near," said Major Hilton. "You'd better come into my -dugout till this blows over." - -He led the way into his gloomy little cavern. It was not much of a -shelter from a direct hit; but it would protect them from flying -splinters at least. - -"Mr. Davidson was my friend," said May Margaret at once. "I know his -people. I think there must be some mistake about ... about the grave." - -"You're not a relative of his, are you?" said Major Hilton. "Had you -known him for long?" - -"No. Less than a year." - -"Well, I don't mind telling _you_ that there _was_ a mistake. We -discovered it a few hours after it was made; but we thought it better -not to upset his people by giving them further details." - -"He was killed, then," May Margaret whispered; and, if the darkness of -the dugout had not veiled her face, Major Hilton would not have -continued. - -"Yes. It was a trench raid. The Boches took a section of our trenches. -When we recovered it, we found him. You'd better not tell his people, -but I don't mind telling _you_. It was a pretty bad case." - -"What do you mean?" - -"One of those filthy Boche tricks. They'd nailed him up against the -lining of the trench with bayonets. He was still alive when we found -him. But they'll get it all back. We're going to give 'em hell -to-night." - -May Margaret was silent for so long that Major Hilton peered at her more -closely. Her white face looked like a bruised thing in the darkness. - -"I'm sorry," he said. "Perhaps I shouldn't have told you. They have done -so much of that kind of thing, I suppose we've got used to it. Well, -you've been tramping about all day, and if I were you, as you're going -to spend the night here, I should settle down for a bit in the dugout. -The bombardment seems to be easing off a little, and you'll want to be -awake all night. There'll be some sights coming on of the picturesque -kind--fireworks and things, which is what you want, I suppose, for the -blessed old public." - -Far away, in another section of the trenches, there was a burst of -cheering. Major Hilton pricked up his ears to listen; but it was drowned -immediately in another blast outside that sealed the mouth of the dugout -like a blow from a gigantic hammer and plunged them into complete -darkness thick with dust and sand. - -"Are you all right?" said Hilton, in a moment or two. "They've blown the -parapet over us. Our chaps will soon get us out." - -They sat down and waited. The sound of their rescuers' shovels was -followed almost immediately by the pulling away of a sandbag, and the -dusty daylight filtered in again, bringing with it another roar of -cheering, nearer now, and rolling along the trenches like an Atlantic -breaker. - -"What the hell are they shouting about?" Hilton grunted, as he scrambled -through the opening. May Margaret was about to follow him, when the -abrupt answer struck her motionless. - -"America has declared war, sir." - -"Are you sure?" - -"Yes, sir. They are passing the President's message along the line. It -looks as if they mean business." - -May Margaret had moved further back into the darkness of the dugout. She -was breathing quickly, panting like a thirsty dog. She dropped on her -knees by an old packing-case in the corner. - -"Thank God. Thank God," she repeated, with her eyes shut. Then the tears -came, and her whole body shook. - -A hand touched her shoulder. She rose to her feet and saw the bewildered -face of Major Hilton, peering again at her own. - -"I'm sorry," she said. "It's the first time I've done it since I was a -kid; but I've been hoping for this ever since the beginning. It's my -country, you see." - -"I've just been looking at the President's message," said Hilton. "I'm -an Englishman, but--if a democracy can discipline itself--I'm not sure -that yours won't be the greatest country in the world. I suppose it must -be, or the Lord wouldn't have entrusted so much to you. He gave you the -best that we ever had to give, and that was our Englishman, George -Washington; and the best thing that George Washington ever did, was to -fight the German King and his twenty thousand Hessians. Eh, what?" - -It was a little after dusk when the unexpected happened. There had been -a lull in the bombardment; and, on Major Hilton's advice, May Margaret -was resting in the dugout in readiness for the long wakeful night of the -trenches. - -She lay there, dazed as from shell-shock by the account of Brian's -death; and the declaration of war from her own country had burst upon -her with an equal violence, leaving her stunned in a kind of "No Man's -Land," a desolate hell, somewhere between despair and triumph. Her world -had broken up. Her mind was no longer her own. Her thoughts were -helpless things between enormous conflicting forces; and, as if to -escape from their rending clutches, as if to cling to the present -reality, she whispered to herself the words of the wounded soldier at -Charing Cross station: "If you meet him, give him hell for _me_! Give -him hell for _me_." It seemed as if it were Brian himself speaking. -Once, with a swift sense of horror, catching herself upon the verge of -insanity, she found that her imagination was furtively beginning to -picture his last agony, and she stopped it, screwing her face up, like a -child pulling faces at a nightmare, and making inarticulate sounds to -drive it away. - -Of one thing she was quite certain now. She did not wish to live any -longer in a world where these things were done. She meant, by hook or by -crook, to get to the dangerous bit of the trench, where our men were -only separated by six yards from the enemy, and to stay there until she -was killed. Even if she couldn't throw bombs herself, she supposed that -she could hand them up to others. And any thought that conflicted with -this idea she suppressed, automatically, with her monotonous echo of the -wounded soldier, "Give them hell for _me_." - -But she was spared any further trouble about the execution of her plans; -and she knew, at once, that she had come to the end of her quest, when -she heard the quick sharp cries of warning outside. - -It was a trench-raid, brief, and unimportant from a military point of -view. The newspapers told London, on the next day, that nothing of -importance had happened. Half a dozen revolvers cracked. There were -curses and groans, a sound of soft thudding blows and grunting, gasping -men, followed by a loud pig-like squeal. Then May Margaret saw three -faces peering cautiously into the dugout, faces of that strange -brutality, heavy-boned, pig-eyed, evil-skulled, which has impressed -itself upon the whole world as a distinct reversion from all civilized -types of humanity. She knew them, as one recognizes the smell of -carrion; and her whole soul exulted as she seized her supreme chance of -striking at the evil thing. She had picked up a revolver almost -unconsciously, and without pausing to think she fired three times with a -steady hand. Two of them she knew that she had killed. The third had -been too quick for her, and in another second she was down on her back, -with a blood-greased boot on her throat, and a throng of evil-smelling -cattle around her. Unhappily, they did not kill her at once; and so the -discovery was made, amidst a storm of guttural exclamations. - -When the trench was retaken, half an hour later, a further discovery was -made by Major Hilton. A locket containing a photograph of Brian Davidson -was buried in what remained of her left breast, as if it had been trying -to hide in her heart. It was almost the only thing about her that was -unhurt. - -Major Hilton made no explanations; but when the body was removed, he -gave strict orders for it to be buried by the side of Lieutenant -Davidson. - - * * * * * - -A week later, Mr. Harvey, of the _Chicago Bulletin_, was informed that -his correspondent, Mr. Martin Grant, had died of pneumonia. The -authorities left the responsibility of informing others, who might be -interested, to his capable hands. - -He went to see Julian Sinclair about it; but he could not discover -whether that sincerely regretful young diplomat with the dazzling smile -and the delightful manners knew anything more. It may have been a -coincidence that, shortly afterwards, Mr. Harvey was recalled to the -shores of Lake Michigan, and replaced by another manager. - - - - -IX - -MAROONED - - -I - -Rachel Hepburn believed that her first lover had been drawn to her--when -she was twenty-two years old--by the way in which she played the violin. -She played it remarkably well; and she was also exceedingly pretty, in a -frank open-air fashion. Until she was seventeen, she had lived on the -mountainous coast of Cumberland, where she rode astride, and swam half a -mile every morning before breakfast. Her family nicknamed her "the -Shetland Pony"; and that was her picture to the life, as she used to -come in from her swim, with her face glowing and her dark eyes like -mountain pools, and the thick mane of hair blowing about her broad -forehead. Her sturdy build helped the picture at the time; but she had -shot up in height since then, and the phrase was no longer applicable. -At twenty-four, she became beautiful, and her music began to show -traces of genius. Unfortunately, she had the additional attraction of -ten thousand pounds a year in her own right; and, when the marriage -settlement was discussed, she proposed to share the money with her three -younger sisters. - -The young man behaved very badly. She told him--very quietly--that this -was the result of her own folly; for, in her family, hitherto, marriages -had always been "arranged." He replied--for he was an intellectual young -man, who understood women, and read the most advanced novelists--that -she was one of those who were ruining England with their feudal ideas. -Then they parted, the young man cursing under his breath, and Rachel -lilting the ballad to which she had hitherto attributed her good -fortune. - - "_Maxwelton's braes are bonnie, where early fa's the dew, - And it's there that Annie Laurie gi'ed me her promise true, - Gi'ed me her promise true, which ne'er forgot shall be, - And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I'd lay me doon and dee._" - -He had quoted it so often in his letters that she was justified, -perhaps, in thinking that it had influenced her fate. "You know, -darling, that those words were supposed to tell the love of a soldier, -who died in Flanders, fighting for England, more than a hundred years -ago, and when you sing them, I feel that I, too ..." So it was the -obvious thing to toss at him as she went through the door, holding her -head up almost as gallantly as a soldier. But he didn't seem to mind, -and the parting was final. - -Rachel, apparently, minded very much indeed; but she kept it to herself -and her violin, till on a certain day, she decided that she must escape -from all her old surroundings and forget. - -Her guardian was the only person she consulted, and he made no criticism -of her scheme of travel so far as she divulged it. She had been brought -up to complete freedom, while her parents were alive, and in the six -years since their death, she had proved that she was capable of taking -care of herself. He was wise or unwise enough not to let her know that -he understood her trouble. But he tried to express a certain sympathy in -his gruff parting words, "London is a grimy cavern." - -"Yes, and the people are grimy, too," she replied, waving her hand to -him, as she went out into the fog. She looked brighter than she had -looked for months past. His last impression of her was that she looked -as roses would look if they could wear furs and carry stars in their -eyes. - -She had been studying the sailings of the ocean-steamers for some time, -but it was not her intention to follow the traveled routes more than was -necessary. Her brain was busy with a new music, the music of the names -in a hundred tales that she had read. The Golden Gate and Rio Grande -called to her like chords in a Beethoven symphony. Yokohama and -Singapore stirred her like Rossini. But it was the folk-song of travel -that she wanted, something wilder and sweeter even than Tahiti, some -fortunate Eden island in the South Seas. - -Egypt and Ceylon were only incidents on her way. They only set the fever -burning a little more restlessly in her veins; and her first moment of -content was when the yacht of thirty tons, which she chartered in San -Diego, carried her out to the long heave of the Pacific, and turned -southward on the endless trail to the Happy Islands. - -This was a part of her scheme about which she had not consulted any one -at home, or she might have received some good advice about the choice of -her ship. It was a sturdy little craft, with small but excellent cabins -for herself and her maid. The captain and his wife were apparently -created for her special benefit, being very capable people, with the -quality of effacing themselves. The crew, of half a dozen Kanakas in -white shirts and red pareos, was picturesque and remote enough from all -the associations of cities to satisfy her desire for isolation. - -The maid was the only mistake, she thought, and she did not discover -this until they had been a fortnight at sea. Her own maid had fallen ill -at an early stage of her travels, and had been sent home from Cairo. -Rachel had engaged this new one in San Diego, chiefly because she -thought it necessary to take somebody with her. When Marie Mendoza had -come to do Rachel's hair at San Diego, she had a somewhat pathetic story -to tell about a husband who had deserted her and forced her to work for -her living. Rachel thought there might be two sides to the story when -she discovered that the captain was playing the part of Samson to this -Delilah. It was a vivid moonlight picture that she saw in the bows one -night, when she had come up on deck unexpectedly for a breath of air. -Captain Ryan was an ardent wooer, and he did not see her. Marie Mendoza -looked rather like a rainbow in the arms of a black-bearded gorilla, and -Rachel retired discreetly, hoping that it was merely a temporary -aberration. - -She would have been more disturbed, probably, if she had heard a little -of the conversation of this precious pair. - -"I tell you, it's a cinch, Mickey. I never seen pearls like 'em. They're -worth fifty thousand dollars in Tiffany's, if they're worth a cent. She -keeps 'em locked up in her steamer-trunk, but I seen her take 'em out -several times." - -"Well, I've been hunting pearls up and down the South Seas for twenty -years, and never had a chance of making good like this." - -But Rachel did not hear the conversation, or she might have been able to -change the course of events considerably. She might even have taken an -opportunity of explaining to Marie that the real pearls were in the bank -at home, and that the necklace in her trunk was a clever imitation, -useful when she wished to adorn herself without too much -responsibility, and worth about thirty-five pounds in London, or perhaps -a little more than one hundred and fifty dollars in New York. - -But Rachel knew nothing of all this; and so, on a certain morning, when -the _Seamew_ dropped anchor off the coral island of her dreams, she went -ashore without any misgivings. It was an island paradise, not recognized -by any map that she had seen, though Captain Ryan seemed to know all -about it. Rachel had particularly wanted to hear the real music of the -islanders, and Captain Ryan had assured her that she would find it at -its best among the inhabitants of this island, who had been unspoiled by -travelers, and yet were among the most gentle of the natives of the -South Seas. Marie Mendoza pleaded a headache, and remained on board; but -the Captain and his wife accompanied Rachel up the white beach, leaving -the boat in charge of the Kanakas. A throng of brown-skinned, -flower-wreathed islanders watched them timidly from under the first -fringe of palm trees; but the Captain knew how to ingratiate himself; -and, after certain gifts had been proffered to the bolder natives, the -rest came forward with their own gifts of flowers and long stems of -yellow fruit. Two young goddesses seized Rachel by the hands, and -examined her clothes, while the rest danced round her like the figures -from the Hymn to Pan in "Endymion." - -Before the morning was over, Rachel had made firm friends of these two -maidens, who rejoiced in the names of Tinovao and Amaru; and, when she -signified to them that she wanted to swim in the lagoon, they danced off -with her in an ecstasy of mirth at the European bathing dress which she -carried over her arm, to their own favorite bathing beach, which was -hidden from the landing-place by a palm-tufted promontory. - -It was more than an hour later when she returned, radiant, with her -radiant companions. She was a superb swimmer, and she had lost all her -troubles for the time in that rainbow-colored revel. She thought of -telling the Captain that they would stay here for some days. She wanted -to drink in the beauty of the island, and make it her own; to swim in -the lagoon, and bask in the healing sun; to walk through the palms at -dusk, and listen to the songs of the islanders. But where was the -Captain? Surely, this was the landing-place. There were the foot-prints -and the mark of the boat on the beach. Then she saw--with a quick -contraction of the heart--not only that the boat was missing, but that -there was no sign of the yacht. She stared at the vacant circle of the -sea, and could find no trace of it. There was no speck on that blazing -sapphire. - - -II - -Her last doubt as to whether she had been deliberately marooned was -removed by Tinovao, who pointed to a heap of her belongings that had -been dumped on the beach, all in accordance with the best -sea-traditions, though it was due in this case to a sentimental spasm on -the part of Marie Mendoza, who remembered the kindness of Rachel at San -Diego. - -The heap was a small one. But Rachel was glad to see that it included -her violin-case. - -She knew that her stay was like to be a long one. They had been looking -for islands out of the way of ships; and she knew that it might even be -some years before another sail appeared on that stainless horizon. The -thieves would disappear, and they were not likely to talk. Her own -movements had been so erratic that she doubted whether her friends could -trace her. But she took it all very pluckily; so that the round-eyed -Amaru and Tinovao were unable to guess the full meaning of her plight. -They came to the conclusion, and Rachel thought it best to encourage -them in it, that she was voluntarily planning to live amongst them for a -little while, and that the yacht would of course return for her. They -had heard of white people doing these strange things, and they were -delighted at the prospect. - -In a very short time, they had lodged Rachel in a hut of palm leaves, -with all the fruits of the island at her door. They carried up the small -heap of her possessions, and she gave them each a little mirror from her -dressing bag, which lifted them into the seventh heaven. Thenceforward, -they were her devoted slaves. Rachel discovered, moreover, while they -were turning over her possessions and examining her clothes, that her -ignorance of their language was but a slight barrier to understanding. -They communicated, it seemed, by a kind of wireless telegraphy, through -that universal atmosphere of their sex. They helped her to do her hair; -and, as it fell over her shoulders, they held it up to one another, -admiring its weight and beauty. When it was dark, there came a sound of -singing from the beach; and they crowned her with fresh frangipanni -blossoms, and led her out like a bride, to hear the songs of the -islanders. - -It was a night of music. In the moonlight, on the moon-white sands, a -few of the younger islanders, garlanded like the sunburnt lovers of -Theocritus, danced from time to time; but, for the most part, they were -in a restful mood, attuned to the calm breathing of the sea. Their -plaintive songs and choruses rose and fell as quietly as the night-wind -among the palms; and Rachel thought she had never heard or seen anything -more exquisite. The beauty of the night was deepened a thousand-fold by -her new loneliness. The music plucked at her heart-strings. Beautiful -shapes passed her, that made her think of Keats: - - "_Now more than ever seems it rich to die, - To cease upon the midnight with no pain._" - -She murmured the lines to herself; and while her lips yet moved, a -young islander stood before her who might have posed as the model for -Endymion. He was hardly darker than herself, and, to her surprise, he -spoke to her in quaint broken English. - -"Make us the music of your own country," was what she understood him to -say, and Tinovao confirmed it by darting off to the hut and returning -with the violin. Rachel took it, and without any conscious choice of a -melody, began to play and sing the air which had been pulsing just below -the level of her consciousness ever since she had left England: - - "_Like dew on the gowan lying is the fa' of her fairy feet, - And like winds in simmer sighing, her voice is low and sweet, - Her voice is low and sweet, and she's a' the world to me, - And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I'd lay me doon and dee._" - -The islanders listened, as if spellbound; but she could not tell whether -the music went home to any of them, except the boy who lay at her feet -with his eyes fixed on her face. When the last notes died away, the -crowd broke into applause, with cries of "Malo! Malo!" But the boy lay -still, looking at her, as a dog looks at his mistress. Then the -moonlight glistened in his eyes, and she thought that she saw tears. -She bent forward a little to make sure. He rose with a smile, and lifted -her hand to his face, so that she might feel that his eyes were wet. - -"Tears," he said, "and I only listen. But you--you make the music, and -no tears are in your eyes." He looked into her face. - -"No," she said, "there are no tears in my eyes." Then she continued -hurriedly, as if speaking to herself (and perhaps only a musician would -have felt that the catch in her voice went a little deeper than tears): -"That's one of the things you lose when you go in for music. It used to -be so with me, too." - -"I like your music," the boy went on. "My father--English sailor. My -mother--learn speak English--from him. She teach me. My father only stay -here little time. I never see English people before this." - -Rachel looked at him with a quick realization of what his words meant. -The boy was at least eighteen years old. - -"You remember no ship coming to this island?" she said. - -"No. I never see my father. He only stay here little time. My mother -think for long time he will come again. That is how she die, only a -little time ago. Too much waiting. Make some more music. You have made -my ears hungry." - -But Rachel was facing the truth now, and she played and sang no more -that night. - - -III - -For a week or two, Rachel spent much time alone, thinking hard, thinking -things out as she had never done before. She did not quite understand -her isolation till the first shock of the full discovery had passed. -Then, one morning, sitting alone, and gazing out over the spotless blue, -she found herself accepting the plain fact, that this might indeed be -for ever. She found herself weighing all the chances, all that she had -lost, and all that yet remained to her. It dawned upon her, for the -first time, that youth does not lightly surrender the fulness of its -life, at the first disillusionment. She knew now that she would have -recovered from that first disastrous love-affair. She knew now that she -had always known it, and that her search had been only for some healing -dittany, some herb of grace that would heal her wound more quickly. She -faced it all--the loss of her birthright as a woman, the loss of the -unknown lover. She saw herself growing old in this loneliness. - -She weighed everything that was left to her, the freedom from all the -complications of life, the beauty of her prison, the years of youth and -strength that might yet rejoice in the sun and the sea, and even find -some companionship among these children of nature that rejoiced in them -also. She compared them with the diseased monstrosities, the hideous -bodies and brutal faces that swarmed in the gray cities of Europe. She -saw nothing to alter her former opinion here. She was condemned at any -rate to live among a folk that had walked out of an ode by Keats. But -always, at the end, she pictured herself growing old, with her own life -unfulfilled. - -Then, one day, a change came over her. She had lost all count of time in -that island of lasting summer; but she must have been marooned for many -months when it happened. - -One afternoon, when she had been swimming with Tinovao and Amaru, the -two girls had run up into the woods to get some fruit, leaving Rachel to -bask on the beach alone. The sunlight of the last few months had tinted -her skin with a smooth rosy brown that would have made it difficult to -distinguish her from a native, except for the contours of her face and -the deep violet of her eyes, as she lay on that milk-white sand. Before -she followed her friends, she thought she would take one more ride -through the surf. She made her way out, through the gap in the reef, -till she had reached the right distance. Then she rested, treading -water, while she waited for the big comber that was to carry her back -again. - -It was her civilized intelligence, perhaps, that betrayed her now, for -she turned her back to the sea for a moment, while she drank in the -beauty of the feathery green palms and delicate tresses of the ironwood -that waved along the shore. She was roused from her dreams by the -familiar muffled roar of the approaching breaker, and she turned her -head a few seconds too late to take the rush of it as it ought to have -been taken. It was a giant and, for almost the first time in her life, -she knew the sensation of fear in the sea, as the green crest crumbled -into white high over her. In that instant, too, she caught a glimpse of -a figure on the reef watching her. It was the figure of Rua, the boy -who spoke English; and, as the breaker crashed down with all its tons of -water over her head, she carried with her the impression that he was -about to dive to her rescue. She was whirled helplessly, heels over -head, downward and downward, then swept forward with the rushing -whirlpools in the blackness below, like a reed in a subterranean river. -She knew that if she could hold her breath long enough, she would rise -to the surface; but she had reckoned without the perils of the gap in -the reef. Twice she was whirled and caught against a jagged piece of -coral, which would probably have killed her if it had struck her head. -She took the warning, and held her arms in the best way she could to -ward off any head-blow. A lacerated body would not matter so much as the -momentary stunning that might prevent her from keeping afloat when she -rose. At last, when it seemed that she could hold her breath no longer, -she shot with a wild gasp to the surface again. - -She found that she was only half-way through the gap, not in mid-stream -where she would have been comparatively safe, but in an eddy of boiling -water, close to the reef and among sharp fangs of coral that made it -impossible to swim. All that she could do, at the moment, was to hold on -to the coral and prevent herself from being lacerated against it. The -sharp edges of the little shells, with which it was covered here, cut -her hands, as the water swirled her to and fro; but she held on, and -looked round for help. - -Then she saw that she was not fated to receive help, but to give it; -and, like lightning in a tropic night, the moment changed her world. She -had no time to think it out now; for she saw the face of Rua, swirling -up towards her through the green water, and it looked like the face of a -drowned man. His head and arms emerged, and sank again, twice, before -she caught him by the hand and drew him, with the strength of a woman -fighting for life, to her side. - -She was not sure whether he was alive or dead; but she saw that, in his -hasty plunge to help her, a dive that no native would have taken at that -place in ordinary circumstances, he had struck one of the coral jags. -Blood was flowing from his head and, as she held him floating there -helplessly for a minute, the clear water went away over the white coral -tinted with little clouds of crimson. She waited for the next big wave, -thinking that it would save or destroy them both. Happily, it had not -broken when it reached them; and, as they rose on the smooth back of it, -she held her companion by the hand, and struck out fiercely for a higher -shelf of the reef. It had been out of her reach before; but the wave -carried them both up to its level, and left them stranded there. - -From this point, the reef rose by easy stages; and, with the aid of two -more waves, she was able to lug Rua to a point where there was no risk -of their being washed away, though the clear water still swirled up -about them, and went away clouded with red. She lay there for a moment -exhausted; but, as her strength came back to her, the strange sensation -that flashed through her when she had first come to the surface returned -with greater force. Much has been said and sung about the dawn of wonder -on the primitive mind. This was an even stranger dawn, the dawn of -wonder on a daughter of the twentieth century. It seemed to her that she -was looking at the world for the first time, while she lay there panting -and gazing out to sea, with those red stains on the white coral, and -her hands gripping the slender brown hands of the half-drowned islander. -It seemed that she had returned to her childhood, and that she was -looking at a primal world that she had forgotten. She saw now that Rua -was breathing, and she knew instinctively that he would recover. The -wave of joy that went through her had something primitive and fierce in -it, like the joy of the wild creatures. She felt like an islander -herself, and when the sea-birds hovered overhead, she called to them, in -the island tongue, and felt as if she had somehow drawn nearer to them. -She looked at the sea with new eyes, as if it were a fierce old -play-mate of her own, an old tiger that had forgotten to sheath its -claws when it buffeted its cubs. There was a glory in the savor of life, -like the taste of freedom to a caged bird. Only it was Europe now, and -the world of houses, that seemed the cage. The sea had never been so -blue. The brine on her lips was like the sacramental wine of her new -kinship with the world.... - -Then, looking at Rua's face, as the life came back to it, a wave of -compassion went through her. Every contour of that face told her that -this boy also was a victim of her own kindred. He, too, was marooned, -and more hopelessly than herself, for there must be a soul within him -that could never even know what it had lost or what it hungered for, -unless, ... unless, perhaps, she could help him out of the treasures of -her own memory, and give him glimpses of that imperial palace whence he -came. - -It was growing dark when they slipped into the water of the lagoon and -swam slowly towards the beach. There, she helped him to limp as far as -his hut, neither of them speaking. He dropped on his knees, as she -turned to go, and laid his face at her feet. She stayed for a moment, -looking at him, and half stooped to raise him; but she checked the -impulse, and left him abruptly. - -At the edge of the wood, she turned to look again, and he was there -still, in the same attitude. There was a dumb pathos in it that reminded -her curiously of certain pictures of her lost world, the peasants in the -Angelus of Millet, though this was a picture unmarred by the curse of -Adam, the picture of a dumb brown youthful god, perfect in physical -beauty, praying in Paradise garden to the star that trembled above the -palms. - -Many women (and most men) in their unguarded moments, impute their own -good and evil to others; read their own thoughts in the eyes around -them; pity their own tears, or the tears of Vergil, in the eyes of -"Geist." But Rua was praying to the best he knew. - - -IV - -The prayer was a long one. It lasted, in various forms, for more than a -year. At dawn, she would wake, and find offerings of fruit and flowers -left at her door by her faithful worshiper; and often she would talk -with him on the beach, telling him of her own country, about which he -daily thirsted to hear more; for the more he learned, the more he seemed -to share her own exile. Music, too, they shared, that universal language -whose very spirituality is its chief peril; for it is emotion unattached -to facts, and it may mean different things to different people; so that -you may accompany the sacking of cities by the thunders of Wagner, or -dream that you see angels in an empty shrine. Sometimes, in the evening, -Rua would steal like a shadow from the shadows around her hut, where he -had been waiting to see her pass, and would beg her to play the music -of her own country. Then she would sing, and he would stand in the -doorway listening, with every pulse of his body beating time, and one -brown foot tapping in the dust. - -One night, she had been wandering with Tinovao and Amaru by the lagoon, -in which the reflected stars burned so brightly that one might easily -believe the island hung in mid-heaven. She looked at them for a long -time; then, with her arms round the two girls, who understood her words -only vaguely, she murmured to herself: "What does it matter? What does -anything matter when one looks up there? And life is going ... life and -youth." - -She said good-night to her friends, and laughingly plucked the red -hibiscus flower from behind the shell-like ear of Tinovao as they -parted. When she neared her door, a shadow stole out of the woods, and -stood before her on the threshold. His eyes were shining like dark -stars, the eyes of a fawn. "Music," he pleaded, "the music of your -country." - -Then he saw the red flower that she wore behind her ear, exactly as -Tinovao had worn it. He stared at her, as Endymion must have stared at -Diana among the poppies of Latmos, half frightened, half amazed. He -dropped to his knees, as on that night when she had saved him. He -pressed his face against her bare feet. They were cold and salt from the -sea. But she stooped now, and raised him. - -"In my country, in our country," she said, "love crowns a man. Happy is -the love that does not bring the woman to the dust." - - * * * * * - -There followed a time when she was happy, or thought herself happy. It -must have lasted for nearly seven years, the lifetime of that dancing -ray of sunlight, the small son, whom she buried with her own hands under -a palm-tree. Then Rua deserted her, almost as a child forsakes its -mother. He was so much younger than herself, and he took a younger wife -from among the islanders. When she first discovered his intention, -Rachel laughed mockingly at herself, and said--also to herself, for she -knew that she had somehow lost the power to make Rua understand -her,--"Have you, too, become an advanced thinker, Rua?" - -But Rua understood that it was some kind of mockery; and, as her mockery -was keeping him away from his new fancy, and he was an undisciplined -child, he leapt at her in fury, seized her by the throat, and beat her -face against the ground. When she rose to her feet, with the blood -running from her mouth, he saw that he had broken out two of her teeth. -This effectively wrecked her beauty, and convinced him, as clearly as if -he had indeed been an advanced thinker, that love must be free to -develop its own life, and that, in the interests of his own soul, he -must get away as quickly as possible. Thereafter, he avoided her -carefully, and she led a life of complete solitude, spending all her -days by the little grave under the palm-tree. - -She lost all count of time. She only knew that the colors were fading -from things, and that while she used to be able to watch the waves -breaking into distinct spray on the reef, she could only see now a blur -of white, from her place by the grave. She was growing old, she -supposed, and it was very much like going to sleep, after all. The slow -pulse of the sea, the voice of the eternal, was lulling her to rest. - - * * * * * - -When the schooner _Pearl_, with its party of irresponsible European -globe-trotters, dropped anchor off the island, it was the first ship -that had been seen there since the arrival of the _Seamew_, the first -that had ever been seen there by many of the young islanders. - -The visitors came ashore, shouting and singing, the men in white duck -suits, with red and blue pareos fastened round their waists; the women -in long flowing lava-lavas of yellow and rose and green, which they had -bought in Tahiti, for they were going to do the thing properly. The lady -in yellow had already loosened her hair and crowned herself with -frangipanni blossoms. The islanders flocked around them, examining -everything they wore, and decorating them with garlands of flowers, just -as they had done with Rachel's party. The new arrivals feasted on the -white beach of the lagoon, in what they believed to be island fashion; -and when the stars came out, and the banjos were tired, they called on -the islanders for the songs and dances of the South Seas. The lady in -yellow tittered apprehensively, and remarked to her neighbor in green, -that she had heard dreadful things about some of those dances. But she -was disappointed on this occasion. The plaintive airs rose and fell -around them, like the very voice of the wind in the palm trees; and the -dancers moved as gracefully as the waves broke on the shore. - -When the islanders had ended their entertainment, amidst resounding -applause, one of the young native women called out a name that seemed to -amuse her companions. They instantly echoed it, and one of them snatched -a banjo from the hands of a white man. Then they all flew, like -chattering birds, towards a hut, which had kept its door closed -throughout the day. - -They clamored round it, gleefully nudging each other, as if in -expectation of a huge joke. At last, the door opened, and a gray, bent -old woman appeared. She was of larger build than most of the islanders, -and there was something in her aspect that silenced the chatterers, even -though they still nudged each other slyly. The native with the banjo -offered it to her almost timidly, and said something, to which the old -woman shook her head. - -"They say she is a witch," said the Captain of the _Pearl_, who had been -listening to the conversation of the group nearest to him. "They want -her to give us some of her music. She used to sing songs, apparently, -before her man drove her out of his house, in the old days, but she has -not sung them since. They think she might oblige our party, for some -strange reason. Evidently, they've got some little joke they want to -play on us. You know these Kanakas have a pretty keen sense of humor." - -The visitors gathered round curiously. An island witch was certainly -something to record in their diaries. The old woman looked at them for a -moment, with eyes like burning coals through her shaggy elf-locks. They -seemed to remind her of something unpleasant. A savage sneer bared her -broken teeth. Then she took the banjo in her shaking hands. They were -queerly distorted by age or some disease and they looked like the claws -of a land-crab. She sat down on her own threshold, and touched the -strings absently with her misshapen fingers. The faint sound of it -seemed to rouse her, seemed to kindle some sleeping fire within her, and -she struck it twice, vigorously. - -The banjo is not a subtle instrument, but the sound of those two chords -drew the crowd to attention, as a master holds his audience breathless -when he tests his violin before playing. - -"Holy smoke!" muttered the owner of the banjo, "where did the old witch -learn to do that?" - -Then the miracle began. The decrepit fingers drew half a dozen chords -that went like fire through the unexpectant veins of the Europeans, went -through them as a national march shivers through the soul of a people -when its armies return from war. The haggard burning eyes, between the -tattered elf-locks, moistened and softened like the eyes of a Madonna, -and the withered mouth, with its broken teeth, began to sing, very -softly and quaveringly, at first, but, gathering strength, note by note, -the words that told of the love of a soldier who fought in Flanders more -than a hundred years ago: - - "_Maxwelton's braes are bonnie, where early fa's the dew, - And it's there that Annie Laurie gi'ed me her promise true._" - -"But it's a white woman," said the lady in the yellow lava-lava, who had -expected only the islanders to shock her, "a white woman gone native! -How disgustin'!" - -"Ssh!" said somebody else, "she's going to give us more." - -The old witch hardly seemed conscious of their presence now. The -slumbering sea of music within her was breaking up the ice which had -sealed and silenced it for so long. She nodded at them, with shining -eyes, and muttered thickly, an almost childlike boast: - -"Oh, but I could do better than that once. My fingers are stiff. Wait!" - -She went into her hut, and returned with the violin. Tremblingly, she -opened a little packet of violin strings. - -"It's my last," she said. "I've kept it very carefully; but it won't be -as good as it used to be." - -The throng watched her breathlessly, as she made ready, and the -trade-wind hushed itself to sleep among the palms. - -"When I was in Europe last," she said, "it seemed to me there was -darkness coming. People had forgotten the meaning of music like this. -They wanted discord and blood and wickedness. I didn't understand it. -But you could see it coming everywhere. Horrible pictures. Women like -snakes. Books like lumps of poison. Hatred everywhere. Even the -musicians hated each other; and if they thought any one had genius, O -ever so little of that--do you know--I think they wanted to kill. Of -course, I chose wrong. I ought to have stayed and fought them. It's too -late now. But you know the meaning of this? It's the cry over the lost -city, before the windows were darkened and the daughters of music -brought low." - -"Crazy as a loon!" whispered the lady in the yellow lava-lava. - -The old woman stood upright in the shadow of a tall palm-tree, a shadow -that spread round her on the milk-white beach like a purple star. Then -her violin began to speak, began to cry, through the great simple melody -of the _Largo_ of Handel, like the soul of an outcast angel. - -At the climax of its infinite compassion, two strings snapped in quick -succession, and she sank to the ground with a sob, hugging the violin to -her breast, as if it were a child. - -"That was the last," she said. - -They saw her head fall over on her shoulder, as she lay back against the -stem of the palm, an old, old woman asleep in the deep heart of its -purple star of shadow; and they knew, instinctively, even before the -Captain of the _Pearl_ advanced to make quite sure, that it was indeed -the last. - - - - -X - -THE GARDEN ON THE CLIFF - - -"I don't know about three acres and a cow, but every man ought to have -his garden. That's the way I look at it," said the old fisherman, -picking up another yard of the brown net that lay across his knees. -"There's gardens that you see, and gardens that you don't see. There's -gardens all shut in with hedges, prickly hedges that 'ull tear your hand -if you try to make a spy-hole in them; and some that you wouldn't know -was there at all--invisible gardens, like the ones that Cap'n Ellis used -to talk about. - -"I never followed him rightly; for I supposed he meant the garden of the -heart, the same as the sentimental song; but he hadn't any use for that -song, so he told me. My wife sent it to him for a Christmas present, -thinking it would please him; and he used it for pipe-lights. The words -was very pretty, I thought, and very appropriate to his feelings: - - _'Ef I should plant a little seed of love, - In the garden of your heart._ - -That's how it went. But he didn't like it. - -"Then there's other gardens that every one can see, both market-gardens -and flower-gardens. Cap'n Ellis told me he knew a man once that wore a -cauliflower in his buttonhole, whenever he went to chapel, and thought -it was a rose. Leastways, he thought that every one else thought it was -a rose. Kind of an orstrich he must have been. But that wasn't the way -with Cap'n Ellis. Every one could see _his_ garden, though he had a nice -big hedge round three sides of it, and it wasn't more than -three-quarters of an acre. Right on the edge of the white chalk coast it -was; and his little six-room cottage looked like a piece of the white -chalk itself. - -"But he was a queer old chap, and he always would have it that nobody -could really see his garden. I used to take him a few mackerel -occasionally--he liked 'em for his supper--and he'd walk in his garden -with me for half an hour at a time. Then, just as I'd be going he'd give -a little smile and say, 'Well, you haven't seen my garden yet! You must -come again.' - -"'Haven't seen your garden,' I'd say. 'I've been looking at it this half -hour an' more!' - -"'Once upon a time, there was a man that couldn't see a joke,' he'd say. -Then he'd go off chuckling, and swinging his mackerel against the -hollyhocks. - -"Funny little old chap he was, with a pinched white face, and a long -nose, and big gray eyes, and fluffy white hair for all the world like -swans' down. But he'd been a good seaman in his day. - -"He'd sit there, in his porch, with his spyglass to his eye, looking out -over his garden at the ships as they went up and down the Channel. Then -he'd lower his glass a little to look at the butterflies, fluttering -like little white sails over the clumps of thrift at the edge of the -cliff, and settling on the little pink flowers. Very pretty they was -too. He planted them there at the end of his garden, which ran straight -down from his cottage to the edge of the cliff. He said his wife liked -to see them nodding their pink heads against the blue sea, in the old -days, when she was waiting for him to come home from one of his voyages. -'Pink and blue,' he says, 'is a very pretty combination.' They matched -her eyes and cheeks, too, as I've been told. But she's been dead now -for twenty-five years or more. - -"He had just one little winding path through the garden to the edge of -the cliff; an' all the rest, at the right time of the year, was flowers. -He'd planted a little copse of fir trees to the west of it, so as to -shelter the flowers; and every one laughed at him for doing it. The sea -encroaches a good many yards along this coast every year, and the cliffs -were crumbling away with every tide. The neighbors told him that, if he -wanted a flower-garden, he'd better move inland. - -"'It was a quarter of a mile inland,' he says, 'when Polly and me first -came to live here; and it hasn't touched my garden yet. It never will -touch it,' he says, 'not while I'm alive. There are good break-waters -down below, and it will last me my time. Perhaps the trees won't grow to -their full height, but I shan't be here to see,' he says, 'and it's not -the trees I'm thinking about. It's the garden. They don't have to be -very tall to shelter my garden. As for the sea,' he says, 'it's my -window, my _bay_-window, and I hope you see the joke. If I was inland, -with four hedges around my garden, instead of three,' he says, 'it would -be like living in a house without a window. Three hedges and a big blue -bay-window, that's the garden for me,' he says. - -"And so he planted it full of every kind of flowers that he could grow. -He had sweet Williams, and larkspurs, and old man's beard, and lavender, -and gilly-flowers, and a lot of them old-fashioned sweet-smelling -flowers, with names that he used to say were like church-bells at -evening, in the old villages, out of reach of the railway-lines. - -"And they all had a meaning to him which others didn't know. You might -walk with him for a whole summer's afternoon in his garden, but it -seemed as if his flowers kept the sweetest part of their scents for old -Cap'n Ellis. He'd pick one of them aromatic leaves, and roll it in his -fingers, and put it to his nose and say 'Ah,' like as if he was talking -to his dead sweetheart. - -"'It's a strange thing,' he'd say, 'but when she was alive, I was away -at sea for fully three parts of the year. We always talked of the time -when I'd retire from the sea. We thought we'd settle down together in -our garden and watch the ships. But, when that time came, it was her -turn to go away, and it's my turn to wait. But there's a garden where -we meet,' he'd say, 'and that's the garden you've never seen.' - -"There was one little patch, on the warmest and most sheltered side that -he called his wife's garden; and it was this that I thought he meant. It -was just about as big as her grave, and he had little clusters of her -favorite flowers there--rosemary, and pansies and Canterbury bells, and -her name _Ruth_, done very neat and pretty in Sussex violets. It came up -every year in April, like as if the garden was remembering. - -"Parson considered that Cap'n Ellis was a very interesting man. - -"'He's quite a philosopher,' he said to me one day; and I suppose that -was why the old chap talked so queer at times. - -"One morning, after the war broke out, I'd taken some mackerel up to -Cap'n Ellis. - -"'Are you quite sure they're fresh,' he said, the same as he always did, -though they were always a free gift to him. But he meant no offense. - -"'Fresh as your own lavender,' I says, and then we laughs as usual, and -sat down to look at the ships, wondering whether they were transports, -or Red Cross, or men-of-war, as they lay along the horizon. Sometimes -we'd see an air-plane. They used to buzz up and down that coast all day; -and Cap'n Ellis would begin comparing it through his glass with the -dragon flies that flickered over his gilly-flowers. There was a -southwest wind blowing in from the sea over his garden, and it brought -us big puffs of scent from the flowers. - -"'Hour after hour,' he says, 'day after day, sometimes for weeks I've -known the southwest wind to blow like that. It's the wind that wrecked -the Armada,' he says, 'and, though it comes gently to my garden, you'd -think it would blow all the scents out of the flowers in a few minutes. -But it don't,' he says. 'The more the wind blows, the more sweetness -they give out,' he says. 'Have you ever considered,' he says, 'how one -little clump of wild thyme will go on pouring its heart out on the wind? -Where does it all come from?' - -"I was always a bit awkward when questions like that were put to me; -so--just to turn him off like--I says 'Consider the lilies of the -field.' - -"'Ah,' he says, turning to me with his eyes shining. 'That's the way to -look at it.' I heard him murmuring another text under his breath, 'Come, -thou south, and blow upon my garden.' And he shook hands with me when I -said good-bye, as if I'd shown him my feelings, which made me feel I -wasn't treating him right, for I'd only said the first thing that came -into my mind, owing to my awkwardness at such times. - -"Well, it was always disturbing me to think what might happen to Cap'n -Ellis, if one day he should find his garden slipping away to the beach. -It overhung quite a little already; and there had been one or two big -falls of chalk a few hundred yards away. Some said that the guns at sea -were shaking down the loose boulders. - -"Of course, he was an old man now, three score years and ten, at least; -and my own belief was that if his garden went, he would go with it. The -parish council was very anxious to save a long strip of the cliff -adjoining his garden, because it was their property; and they'd been -building a stone wall along the beach below to protect it from the high -tide. But they were going to stop short of Cap'n Ellis's property, -because of the expense, and he couldn't afford to do it himself. A few -of us got together in the _Plough_ and tried to work out a plan of -carrying on the wall, by mistake, about fifteen feet further, which was -all it needed. We'd got the foreman on our side, and it looked as if we -should get it done at the council's expense after all, which was hardly -honest, no doubt, in a manner of speaking, though Cap'n Ellis knew -nothing about it. - -"But the end came in a way that no wall could have prevented, though it -proved we were right about the old man having set his heart in that -garden. David Copper, the shepherd, saw the whole thing. It happened -about seven o'clock of a fine summer morning, when the downs were all -laid out in little square patches, here a patch of red clover, and there -a patch of yellow mustard, for all the world like a crazy quilt, only -made of flowers, and smelling like Eden garden itself for the dew upon -them. - -"It was all still and blue in the sky, and the larks going up around the -dew-ponds and bursting their pretty little hearts for joy that they was -alive, when, just as if the shadow of a hawk had touched them, they all -wheeled off and dropped silent. - -"Pretty soon, there was a whirring along the coast, and one of them -air-planes came up, shining like silver in the morning sun. Copper -didn't pay much attention to it at first, for it looked just as -peaceable as any of our own, which he thought it was. Then he sees a -flash, in the middle of Cap'n Ellis's garden, and the overhung piece, -where the little clumps of thrift were, goes rumbling down to the beach, -like as if a big bag of flour had been emptied over the side. The -air-plane circled overhead, and Copper thinks it was trying to hit the -coast-guard station, which was only a few score yards away, though -nobody was there that morning but the coast-guard's wife, and the old -black figurehead in front of it, and there never was any guns there at -any time. - -"The next thing Copper saw was Cap'n Ellis running out into what was -left of his garden, with his night-shirt flapping around him, for all -the world like a little white sea-swallow. He runs down with his arms -out, as if he was trying to catch hold of his garden an' save it. Copper -says he never knew whether the old man would have gone over the edge of -the cliff or not. He thinks he would, for he was running wildly. But -before he reached the edge there was another flash and, when the smoke -had cleared, there was no garden or cottage or Cap'n Ellis at all, but -just another big bite taken out of the white chalk coast. - -"We found him under about fifteen ton of it down on the beach. The -curious thing was that he was all swathed and shrouded from head to foot -in the flowers of his garden. They'd been twisted all around him, -lavender, and gilly-flowers, and hollyhocks, so that you'd think they -were trying to shield him from harm. P'raps they've all gone with him to -one of them invisible gardens he used to talk about, where he was going -to meet his dead sweetheart. - -"They buried him on the sunny side of the churchyard. You can see a bit -of blue sea between the yew trees from where he lies, so he's got his -window still; and there's a very appropriate inscription on his -tombstone: - -"_Awake, O north wind, and come, thou south: Blow upon my garden, that -the spices thereof may flow forth._" - - - - -XI - -THE HAND OF THE MASTER - - -It was on Christmas Day, 1914, that I received one of the strangest -documents I had ever read. It was in the form of a letter from Jonathan -Martin, who had made himself a torch of ambition and fear to many moths -in London by painting portraits that were certain to be the pictures of -the year, but also certain to reveal all the idiosyncrasies, good and -bad, of their subjects. It was the fashion to call him cynical. In fact, -he was an artist, and a great one. - -His unusual power of eliciting unexpected meanings from apparently -meaningless incidents and objects was not confined to his art. In -private conversation, he would often startle you with a sentence that -was like the striking of a match in a dark room. You didn't know that -the room was dark until he spoke; and then, in a flash, mysterious -relationships at which you had never guessed, were established. You -caught a glimpse of an order and a meaning that you had not discerned -before. The aimless thing over which you had barked your shin became a -coal scuttle; the serried row of dark objects that irritated your left -elbow became the works of Shakespeare; and, if you were lucky, you -perhaps discovered the button by which you could switch on the electric -light, and then sit down by the hearth and read of "beauty, making -beautiful old rhyme." - -But this is a very faint hint of the kind of illumination with which he -would surprise you on all kinds of occasions. I shall never forget the -way in which he brought into a queer juxtaposition "the Day" that -Germany had been toasting for forty years and the final request for an -answer before midnight, which was embodied in the British ultimatum. He -would give you a patch of unexpected order in the chaos of politics, and -another in the chaos of the creeds--patches that made you feel a -maddening desire to widen them until they embraced the whole world. You -felt sure that he himself had done this, that he lived in a -re-integrated universe, and that--if only there were time enough--he -could give you the whole scheme. In short, he saw the whole universe as -a work of art; and he conceived it to be his business, in his own art, -to take this or that apparently isolated subject and show you just the -note it was meant to strike in the harmony of the whole. He was very -fond of quoting the great lines of Dante, where he describes the -function of the poet as that of one who goes through the world and where -he sees the work of Love, records it. But, please to remember, this did -not imply that the subject was necessarily a pleasant one. Beauty was -always there, but the beauty was one of relationships, not of the thing -itself. As he once said, "an old boot in the gutter will serve as a -subject if you can make it significant, if you can set it in relation to -the enduring things." It is necessary to make this tedious preface to -his odd letter, or the point of it may be lost. - -"I want to tell you about the most haunting and dramatic episode I have -encountered during these years of war," he wrote. "It was a thing so -slight that I hardly know how to put it into words. It couldn't be -painted, because it includes two separate scenes, and also--in -paint--it would be impossible to avoid the merely sentimental effect. - -"It happened in London, during the very early days of the struggle. One -afternoon, I was riding down Regent Street on the top of a bus. The -pavements were crowded with the usual throng. Women in furs were peering -into the windows of the shops. Newspaper boys were bawling the latest -lies. Once, I thought I saw a great scribble of the Hand that writes -history, where a theater poster, displaying a serpentine woman, a kind -of Aubrey-Beardsley vampire, was half obliterated by a strong diagonal -bar of red, bearing the words, '_Kitchener wants a hundred thousand -men_.' My mind was running on symbols that afternoon, and I wondered if -it did perhaps mean the regeneration of art and life in England at last. - -"Then we overtook a strange figure, a blind man, tapping the edge of the -pavement with a rough stick, cut out of some country hedgerow. He was -carrying, in his left hand, a four-foot pole, at the top of which there -was nailed a board, banner-wise, about three feet long and two feet -wide. On the back of the board, as we overtook him, I read the French -text in big red letters: 'VENEZ A MOI, VOUS TOUS QUI ETES TRAVAILLÉS ET -CHARGÉS, ET JE VOUS SOULAGERAI.' - -"On the other side of the board, as we halted by the curb a little in -front of him, there was the English version of the same text, in big -black letters: 'COME UNTO ME, ALL YE THAT LABOR AND ARE HEAVY-LADEN, AND -I WILL GIVE YOU REST.' - -"The blind man was tall and lean-faced, and held himself very upright. -He was poorly dressed, but very clean and neat. The tap of his stick was -like the smart tap of a drum, and he marched more rapidly than any of -those who were going in the same direction. - -"There were several things about him that puzzled me. There was no -advertisement of any sect, or any religious meeting, nothing but the two -texts on his placard. He went past us like a soldier, and he carried it -like the flag of his regiment. He did not look as if he were asking for -alms. The pride on his face forbade the suggestion; and he never -slackened his quick pace for a moment. He seemed entirely unrelated to -the world around him. - -"Possibly, I thought, he was one of those pathetic beings whose emotions -had been so stirred by the international tragedy that, despite their -physical helplessness, they were forced to find some outlet. Perhaps he -was an old soldier, blinded in some earlier war. Perhaps he was merely a -religious fanatic. In any case, in the great web of the world's events, -he seemed to be a loose fantastic thread; and although he was carrying a -more important message than any one else, nobody paid any attention to -him. - -"In a few moments, the bus had carried my thoughts and myself into other -regions, and, for the time, I forgot him. I occupied myself, as I often -do, in composing a bit of doggerel to the rhythm of the wheels. Here it -is. It is pretty bad, but the occasion may make it interesting: - - _Once, as in London busses, - At dusk I used to ride, - The faces Hogarth painted - Would rock from side to side, - All gross and sallow and greasy, - And dull and leaden-eyed._ - - _They nodded there before me - In such fantastic shape, - The donkey and the gosling, - The sheep, the whiskered ape, - With so much empty chatter, - So many and foolish lies, - I lost the stars of heaven - Through looking in their eyes._ - -"Late in the afternoon, I was returning westward, along the Strand. I -remember walking slowly to look at the beauty of the sunset sky, against -which the Nelson column, in those first days of the fight, rose with a -more spiritual significance than ever before. The little Admiral stood -like a watchman, looking out to sea, from the main mast of our Ship of -State, against that dying glory. It was the symbol of the national soul, -high and steadfast over the great dark lions, round which so many -quarreling voices had risen, so many quarreling faces had surged and -drifted away like foam in the past. This was the monument of the -enduring spirit, a thing to still the heart and fill the eyes of all who -speak our tongue to-day. - -"I was so absorbed in it that I did not notice the thick crowd, choking -the entrances to Charing Cross Station, until I was halted by it. But -this was a very different crowd from those of peace-time. They were all -very silent, and I did not understand what swarming instinct had drawn -them together. Nor did they understand it themselves--yet. 'I think they -are expecting something,' was the only reply I got to my inquiry. - -"I made my way round to the front of the station, but the big iron gates -were closed and guarded by police. Nobody was allowed to enter the -station. Little groups of railway porters were clustered here and there, -talking in low voices. I asked one of these men what was happening. - -"'They're expecting something, some train. But we don't know what it is -bringing.' - -"As he spoke, there was a movement in the crowd. A compact body of about -forty ambulance men marched through, into the open space before the -station. Some of them were carrying stretchers. They looked grave and -anxious. Some of their faces were tense and white, as if they too were -expecting something, something they almost dreaded to see. This was very -early in the war, remember, before we knew what to expect from these -trains. - -"The gates of the station swung open. The ambulance men marched in. A -stream of motor ambulances followed. Then the gates were closed again. - -"I waited, with the waiting crowd, for half an hour. It was impossible -now to make one's way through the dense crush. From where I stood, -jammed back against the iron railings, in front of the station, I could -see that all the traffic in the Strand was blocked. The busses were -halted, and the passengers were standing up on the top, like spectators -in some enormous crowded theater. The police had more and more -difficulty in keeping the open space before the station. At last, the -gates were swung apart again, and the strangest procession that London -had ever seen began to come out. - -"First, there were the sitting-up cases--four soldiers to a taxicab, -many of them still bandaged about the brows with the first blood-stained -field dressings. Most of them sat like princes, and many of them were -smiling; but all had a new look in their faces. Officers went by, -gray-faced; and the measure of their seriousness seemed to be the -measure of their intelligence, rather than that of their wounds. Without -the utterance of a word, the London crowd began to feel that here was a -new thing. The army of Britain was making its great fighting retreat, -before some gigantic force that had brought this new look into the faces -of the soldiers. It was our first real news from the front. From the -silent faces of these men who had met the first onset with their bodies, -we got our first authentic account of the new guns and the new shells, -and the new hell that had been loosed over Europe. - -"But the crowd had not yet fully realized it. A lad in khaki came -capering out of the station, waving his hands to the throng and shouting -something that sounded like a music-hall jest. The crowd rose to what it -thought was the old familiar occasion. - -"'Hello, Tommy! Good boy, Tommy! Shake hands, Tommy! Are we downhearted, -Tommy?' The old vacuous roar began and, though all the faces near me -seemed to have two eyes in them, every one began to look cheerful again. - -"The capering soldier stopped and looked at them. Then he made a -grotesque face, and thrust his tongue out. He looked more like a -gargoyle than a man. - -"The shouts of 'Tommy, Tommy,' still continued, though a few of the -shouters were evidently puzzled. Then a brother soldier, with his left -arm in the sling, took the arm of the comedian, and looked a little -contemptuously at the crowd. - -"'Shell-shock,' he said quietly. And the crowd shouted no more that day. -It was not a pleasant mistake; and it was followed by a procession of -closed ambulances, containing the worst cases. - -"Then came something newer even than wounded men, a motley stream of -civilians, the Belgian refugees. They came out of the station like a -flock of sheep, and the fear of the wolf was still in their eyes. The -London crowd was confronted by this other crowd, so like itself, a crowd -of men in bowler hats and black coats, of women with children clinging -to their skirts; and it was one of the most dramatic meetings in -history. The refugees were carrying their household goods with them, as -much as could be tied in a bundle or shut in a hand-bag. Some of the -women were weeping. One of them--I heard afterwards--had started with -four children but had been separated from the eldest in the confusion of -their flight. It was doubtful whether they would ever be re-united. - -"Now, as this new crowd streamed out of the gates of the station towards -the vehicles that had been prepared for them, some of their faces lifted -a little, and a light came into them that was more than the last -radiance of the sunset. They looked as if they had seen a friend. It was -a look of recognition; and though it was only a momentary gleam, it had -a beauty so real and vivid that I turned my head to see what had caused -it. - -"And there, over the sea of faces that reached now to the foot of the -Nelson column, I saw something that went through me like great music. -Facing the gates of the station, and lifting out of the midst of the -crowd like the banner of a mighty host, nay, like the banner of all -humanity, there was a placard on a pole. The sunset-light caught it and -made it blaze like a star. It bore, in blood-red letters, the solemn -inscription that I had seen in the earlier part of the day: 'VENEZ A -MOI, VOUS TOUS QUI ETES TRAVAILLÉS ET CHARGÉS, ET JE VOUS SOULAGERAI.' - -"My blind man had found his niche in the universe. It was hardly -possible that he was even conscious of what he was doing; hardly -possible that he knew which side of his banner was turned towards the -refugees, whether it was the English, that would mean nothing to them, -or the French that would speak to them like a benediction. He had been -swung to his place and held in it by external forces, held there, as I -myself was jammed against the iron railings. But he had become, in one -moment, the spokesman of mankind; and if he had done nothing else in all -his life, it had been worth living for that one unconscious moment. - -"You may be interested to hear the conclusion of the doggerel which came -into my head as I went home: - - _Now, as I ride through London, - The long wet vistas shine, - Beneath the wheeling searchlights, - As they were washed with wine, - And every darkened window - Is holy as a shrine._ - - _The deep-eyed men and women - Are fair beyond belief, - Ennobled by compassion, - And exquisite with grief. - Along the streets of sorrow - A river of beauty rolls. - The faces in the darkness - Are like immortal souls._" - - * * * * * - - _WORKS BY ALFRED NOYES_ - - Collected Poems--_2 Vols._ - The Lord of Misrule - A Belgian Christmas Eve (Rada) - The Wine-Press - Walking Shadows--_Prose_ - Open Boats - Tales of the Mermaid Tavern - Sherwood - The Enchanted Island and Other Poems - Drake: An English Epic - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Walking Shadows, by Alfred Noyes - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WALKING SHADOWS *** - -***** This file should be named 43186-8.txt or 43186-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/1/8/43186/ - -Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -book was produced from scanned images of public domain -material from the Google Print project.) - - -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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