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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Theodore Savage, by Cicely Hamilton</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Theodore Savage</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>A Story of the Past or the Future</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Cicely Hamilton</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 16, 2021 [eBook #65848]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THEODORE SAVAGE ***</div>
-
-<div class='tnotes covernote'>
-
-<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter ph1'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c001'>
- <div>THEODORE SAVAGE</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-<div class='figright id001'>
-<img src='images/c_01.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-<div class='clear'>
-
-</div>
-<div class='lg-container-b c001'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><i>BY THE SAME AUTHOR</i></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line c002'>DIANA OF DOBSON’S</div>
- <div class='line'>WILLIAM, AN ENGLISHMAN</div>
- <div class='line'>MARRIAGE AS A TRADE</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='titlepage'>
-
-<div>
- <h1 class='c003'>THEODORE SAVAGE<br /> <span class='large'>A STORY OF THE PAST OR THE FUTURE</span></h1>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div><span class='small'>BY</span></div>
- <div><span class='xlarge'>CICELY HAMILTON</span></div>
- <div class='c002'>LONDON</div>
- <div><span class='large'>LEONARD PARSONS</span></div>
- <div>DEVONSHIRE STREET</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c001'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><i>First Published 1922.</i></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c002'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><i>Leonard Parsons Ltd.</i></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter ph1'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c001'>
- <div>Theodore Savage</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>I</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>If it had been possible for Theodore Savage
-to place on record for those who came after
-him the story of his life and experiences, he
-would have been the first to admit that the
-interest of the record lay in circumstance and
-not in himself. From beginning to end he
-was much what surroundings made of him;
-in his youth the product of a public school,
-Wadham and the Civil Service; in maturity
-and age a toiler with his hands in the company
-of men who lived brutishly. In his twenties,
-no doubt, he was frequently bored by his
-clerking duties and the routine of the Distribution
-Office; later on there were seasons when
-all that was best in him cried out against confinement
-in a life that had no aspiration; but
-neither boredom nor resentment ever drove
-him to revolt or set him to the moulding of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>circumstance. If he was destined to live as a
-local tradition and superman of legend, the
-honour was not gained by his talents or personal
-achievements; he had to thank for it
-an excellent constitution, bequeathed him by
-his parents, certain traces of refinement in
-manner and speech and the fears of very ignorant
-men.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>When the Distribution Office—like his
-Hepplewhite furniture, his colour-prints and
-his English glass—was with yesterday’s seven
-thousand years, it is more than possible that
-Theodore Savage, looking back on his youth,
-saw existence, till he neared the age of thirty,
-as a stream of scarcely ruffled content. Sitting
-crouched to the fire in the sweat-laden air
-of his cabin or humped idly on a hillside in the
-dusk of summer evening, it may well have
-seemed, when his thoughts strayed backwards,
-that the young man who once was impossibly
-himself was a being whom care did not touch.
-What he saw with the eye of his mind and
-memory was a neat young Mr. Savage who
-was valeted in comfortable chambers and who
-worked, without urgence, for limited hours, in
-a room that looked on Whitehall. Who in his
-plentiful leisure gained a minor reputation
-on the golf-links! Who frequented studios,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>bought—now and then—a picture and collected
-English glass and bits of furniture. Who was
-passably good-looking, in an ordinary way, had
-a thoughtful taste in socks and ties and was
-careful of his hands as a woman.... So—through
-the vista of years and the veil of contrast—Theodore
-may have seen his young
-manhood; and in time, perhaps, it was difficult
-for a coarse-fingered labourer, dependent
-for his bread on the moods of nature, to sympathize
-greatly with the troubles of neat Mr.
-Savage or think of him as subject to the major
-afflictions of humanity.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>All the same, he would spend long hours in
-communion with his vanished self; striving
-at times to trace resemblances between the
-bearded, roughened features that a fishing-pool
-reflected and the smooth-chinned civil
-servant with brushed hair and white collar
-whom he followed in thought through his
-work, his amusements, his love-making and
-the trivial details of existence.... And
-imagining, sometimes, the years and the
-happenings that might have been if his age,
-like his youth, had been soaped and collared,
-routined by his breeding and his office; if
-gods and men had not run amuck in frenzy
-and his sons had been born of a woman who
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>lived delicately—playing Chopin of an evening
-to young Mr. Savage and giving him cream in
-his tea?...</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Even if life in his Civil Service days was not
-all that it shone through the years of contrast,
-Theodore Savage could have had very little of
-hardship to complain of in the days when he
-added to a certain amount of private income a
-salary earned by the duties of the unexacting
-billet which a family interest had secured for
-him. If he had no particular vocation for the
-bureaucratic life—if good painting delighted,
-and official documents bored him—he had
-sufficient common sense to understand that it
-is given to most of us, with sufficient application,
-to master the intricacies of official documents,
-while only to few is it given to master
-an art. After a phase of abortive experiment
-in his college days he had realized—fortunately—that
-his swift and instinctive pleasure in
-beauty had in it no creative element; whereupon
-he settled down, early and easily, into
-the life and habits of the amateur.... There
-remained with him to the end of his days an
-impression of a young man living pleasurably,
-somewhat fastidiously; pursuing his hobbies,
-indulging his tastes, on the whole without
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>much damage to himself or to others affected;
-acting decently according to his code and,
-when he fell in love and out of it, falling not
-too grossly or disastrously. If he had a
-grievance against his work at the Distribution
-Office, it was no more serious than this: it
-took much time, certain hours every day, from
-the interests that counted in his life. And
-against that grievance, no doubt, he set the
-ameliorating fact that his private means
-unaided would hardly have supported his way
-of existence, his many pleasant interests and
-himself; it was his civil servant’s salary that
-had furnished his rooms in accordance with
-his taste and made possible the purchase of
-his treasured Fragonard and his bell-toned
-Georgian wine-glasses.... The bearded
-toiler, through a mist of years, watched a
-young man dawdling, without fear of the
-future, through a world of daily comforts
-that to his sons would seem fantastic, the
-creation of legend or of dream.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was that blind and happy lack of all fear
-of the future that lent interest to the toiler’s
-watching; knowing what he knew of the
-years that lay ahead, there was something of
-grim and dramatic humour in the sight of
-himself—yea, Theodore Savage, the broken-nailed,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>unshorn—arrayed of a morning in a
-flowered silk dressing-gown or shirt-fronted
-for an evening at the opera.... As it was
-in the beginning, is now and ever shall be—that,
-so it seemed to him in later years, had
-been the real, if unspoken, motto of the world
-wherein he had his being in the days of his
-unruffled content....</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Of the last few weeks in the world that was
-and ever should be he recalled, on the whole,
-very little of great hurrying and public events;
-it was the personal, intimate scenes that stood
-out and remained to a line and a detail. His
-first meeting with Phillida Rathbone, for
-instance, and the chance interview with her
-father that led to it: he could see himself
-standing by Rathbone’s desk in the Distribution
-Office, see the bowl between his fingers,
-held to the light—see its very shape and conventional
-pattern of raised flowers.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Rathbone—John Rathbone—was his chief
-in his Distribution days; a square-jawed,
-formidable, permanent official who was held
-in awe by underlings and Ministers, and himself
-was subject, most contentedly subject, to
-a daughter, the ruler of his household. Her
-taste in art and decoration was not her father’s,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>but, for all the bewilderment it caused him, he
-strove to gratify it loyally; and for Phillida’s
-twenty-third birthday he had chosen expensively,
-on his way to the office, at the shop of a
-dealer in antiquities. Swept on the spate of
-the dealer’s eloquence he had been pleased for
-the moment with his find—a flowered bowl,
-reputed Chelsea; it was not until half an
-hour later that he remembered uneasily his
-daughter’s firm warnings against unaided
-traffic with the miscreants who deal in curios.
-With the memory uncomfortable doubts assailed
-him, while previous experiments came
-thronging unpleasantly to mind—the fiasco
-of the so-called Bartolozzi print and the
-equally lamentable business of the so-called
-Chippendale settee.... He drew his purchase
-from its paper wrapping, set it down
-on the table and stared at it. The process
-brought no enlightenment and he was still
-wrestling with uncomfortable doubts when
-Theodore Savage knocked and came in with a
-draft report for approval.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The worry born of ignorance faded out of
-Rathbone’s face as he conned the document
-and amended its clauses with swift pencilled
-notes in the margin; he was back with the
-solidities he knew and could make sense of, and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>superfluous gimcracks for the moment had
-ceased to exist. It was Savage who unwittingly
-recalled their existence and importance;
-when his chief, at the end of his corrections,
-looked up, the younger man was eyeing the
-troublesome gimcrack with a meditative interest
-that reminded Rathbone of his daughter’s
-manner when she contemplated similar rubbish.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Know anything about old china?” he
-inquired—an outward and somewhat excessive
-indifference concealing an inward anxiety.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Not much,” said Theodore modestly; but,
-taking the query as request for an opinion, his
-hand went out to the bowl.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“What do you make of it?” asked Rathbone,
-still blatantly indifferent. “I picked it
-up this morning—for my daughter. Supposed
-to be Chelsea—should you say it was?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>If the answer had been in the negative
-the private acquaintance between chief and
-subordinate would probably have made no
-further progress; no man, even when he
-makes use of it, is grateful for the superior
-knowledge in a junior that convicts him to
-his face of gullibility. As it was, the verdict
-was favourable and Rathbone, in the relief of
-finding that he had not blundered, grew
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>suddenly friendly—to the point of a dinner
-invitation; which was given, in part, as instinctive
-thanks for restored self-esteem, in
-part because it might interest Phillida to meet
-a young man who took gimcracks as gravely
-as herself. The invitation, as a matter of
-course, was accepted; and three days later
-Savage met Phillida Rathbone.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I’ve asked a young fellow you’re sure to
-get on with”—so Rathbone had informed his
-daughter; who, thereupon, as later she confessed
-to Theodore, had made up her mind to
-be bored. She threw away her prejudice
-swiftly when she found the new acquaintance
-talked music with intelligence—she herself had
-music in her brain as well as in her finger-tips—while
-he from the beginning was attracted
-by a daintiness of manner and movement that
-puzzled him in Rathbone’s daughter....
-From that first night he must have been drawn
-to her, since the evening remained to him
-clear in every detail; always in the hollow of
-a glowing fire he could summon up Phillida,
-himself and Rathbone, sitting, the three of
-them, round the table with its silver and tall
-roses.... In the centre a branching cluster
-of roses—all yellow, like Phillida’s dress....
-Rathbone, for the most part, good-naturedly
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>silent, Phillida and himself talking swiftly....
-In shaded light and a solid, pleasant comfort;
-ordinary comfort, which he took for
-granted as an element of daily life, but which
-yet was the heritage of many generations, the
-product of long centuries of striving and
-cunning invention.... Later, in the drawing-room,
-the girl made music—and he saw
-himself listening from his corner of the sofa
-with a cigarette, unlit, between his fingers.
-Above all it was her quality of daintiness that
-pleased him; she was a porcelain girl, with
-something of the grace that he associated with
-the eighteenth century....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>After half an hour that was sheer content to
-Theodore she broke off from her playing to sit
-on the arm of her father’s chair and ruffle his
-grey hair caressingly.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Old man, does my noise on the piano prevent
-you from reading your paper?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Whereat Rathbone laughed and returned
-the caress; and Phillida explained, for the
-visitor’s benefit, that the poor dear didn’t
-know one tune from another and must have
-been bored beyond measure—by piano noises
-since they came upstairs and nothing but
-music-talk at dinner.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I believe we’ve driven him to the Montagu
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>divorce case,” she announced, looking over
-his shoulder. “‘Housemaid cross-examined—the
-Colonel’s visits.’ Daddy, have you fallen
-to that?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No, minx,” he rebuked her, “I haven’t.
-I’m not troubling to wade through the housemaid’s
-evidence for the very good reason that
-it’s quite unnecessary. I shall hear all about it
-from you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“That’s a nasty one,” Phillida commented,
-rubbing her cheek against her father’s. She
-turned the paper idly, reading out the headlines.
-“‘American elections—Surprises at
-Newmarket—Bank Rate’—There doesn’t
-seem much news except the housemaid and
-the colonel, does there?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Rathbone laughed as he pinched her cheek
-and pointed—to a headline here and a headline
-there, to a cloud that was not yet the size
-of a man’s hand.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It depends on what you call news. It
-seems to have escaped you that we’ve just
-had a Budget. That matters to those of us
-who keep expensive daughters. And, little as
-the subject may interest you, I gather from
-the size of his type, that the editor attaches
-some importance to the fact that the Court of
-Arbitration has decided against the Karthanian
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>claim. That, of course, compared to
-a housemaid in the witness-box is——”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Ponderous,” she finished and laughed
-across at Theodore. “Important, no doubt,
-but ponderous—the Court of Arbitration
-always is. That’s why I skipped it.”&nbsp;...
-Then, carelessly interested, and running her
-eye down the columns of the newspaper, she
-supposed the decision was final and those
-noisy little Karthanians would have to be
-quiet at last. Rathbone shrugged his shoulders
-and hoped so.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“But they’ll have to, won’t they?” said
-Phillida. “Give me a match, Daddy—There’s
-no higher authority than the Court of
-Arbitration, is there?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“If,” Rathbone suggested as he held a
-light to her cigarette, “if your newspaper
-reading were not limited to scandals and
-chiffons, you might have noticed that your
-noisy little friends in the East have declared
-with their customary vehemence that in no
-circumstances whatever will they accept an
-adverse verdict—not even from the Court of
-Arbitration.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“But they’ll have to, won’t they?” Phillida
-repeated placidly. “I mean—they can’t go
-against everybody else. Against the League.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>She tried to blow a smoke-ring with conspicuous
-ill-success, and Theodore, watching
-her from his corner of the sofa—intent on her
-profile against the light—heard Rathbone explaining
-that “against everybody else” was
-hardly the way to put it, since the Federal
-Council was not a happy family at present.
-There was very little doubt that Karthania
-was being encouraged to make trouble—and
-none at all that there would be difference of
-opinion on the subject of punitive action....
-Phillida, with an arm round her father’s neck,
-was divided between international politics and
-an endeavour to make the perfect ring—now
-throwing in a question anent the constitution
-and dissensions of the League, now rounding
-her mouth for a failure—while Theodore, on
-the sofa, leaned his head upon his hand that he
-might shade his eyes and watch her without
-seeming to watch.... He listened to Rathbone—and
-did not listen; and that, as he
-realized later, had been so far his attitude to
-interests in the mass. The realities of his life
-were immediate and personal—with, in the
-background, dim interests in the mass that
-were vaguely distasteful as politics. A collective
-game played with noisy idealism and
-flaring abuse, which served as copy to the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>makers of newspapers and gave rise at intervals
-to excited conversation and argument....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>What was real, and only real while Rathbone
-talked, was the delicate poise of Phillida’s
-head, the decorative line of Phillida’s body,
-his pleasure in the sight of her, his comfort in
-a well-ordered room; these things were
-realities, tangible or æsthetic, in whose company
-a man, if he were so inclined, might
-discuss academically an Eastern imbroglio and
-the growing tendency to revolt against the
-centralized authority of the League. Between
-life, as he grasped it, and public affairs there
-was no visible, essential connection. The
-Karthanian imbroglio, as he strolled to his
-chambers, was an item in the make-up of a
-newspaper, the subject of a recent conversation;
-it was the rhythm of Phillida’s music
-that danced in his brain as a living and insistent
-reality. That, and not the stirrings of
-uneasy nations, kept him wakeful till long
-after midnight.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>II</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>While Theodore Savage paid his court to
-Phillida Rathbone, the Karthanian decision
-was the subject of more than conversation;
-diplomatists and statesmen were busy while
-he drifted into love and dreamed through the
-sudden rumours that excited his fellows at the
-office. In London, for the most part, journalism
-was guarded and reticent, the threat of
-secession at first hardly mentioned; but in
-nations and languages that favoured secession
-the press was voicing the popular cry with
-enthusiasm that grew daily more heated.
-Through conflicting rumour this at least was
-clear: at the next meeting of the Council of
-the League its authority would be tested to
-the uttermost, since the measure of independent
-action demanded by the malcontent
-members would amount to a denial of the
-federal principle, to secession in fact if not
-in name.... Reaction against central and
-unified authority was not a phenomenon of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>yesterday; it had been gathering its strength
-through years of racial friction, finding an
-adherent in every community that considered
-itself aggrieved by a decision of the Council
-or award of the Court of Arbitration, and for
-years it had taxed the ingenuity of the
-majority of the Council to avoid open breach
-and defiance.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Before open breach and its consequences,
-both sides had so far manœuvred, hesitated,
-compromised; it had been left to a minor, a
-very minor, state, to rush in where others
-feared to tread. The flat refusal of a heady,
-half-civilized little democracy to accept the
-unfavourable verdict of the Court of Arbitration
-was the spark that might fire a powder-barrel;
-its frothy demonstrations, ridiculous
-in themselves, appealed to the combative
-instinct in others, to race-hatreds, old herding
-feuds and jealousies. These found vent in
-answering demonstrations, outbursts of popular
-sympathy in states not immediately
-affected; the noisy rebel was hailed as a
-martyr and pioneer of freedom, and became
-the pretext for resistance to the Council’s
-oppression. There was no doubt of the extent
-of the re-grouping movement of the nations,
-of the stirrings of a widespread combativeness
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>which denounced Federation as a system
-whereby dominant interests and races exploited
-their weaker rivals. With the meeting
-of the Council would come the inevitable
-clash of interests; the summons to the offending
-member of the League to retreat from its
-impossible position, and—in case of continued
-defiance—the proposal to take punitive action.
-That proposal, to all seeming, must bring
-about a crisis; those members of the League
-who had encouraged the rebel in defiance
-would hardly consent to co-operate in punitive
-measures; and refusal—withdrawal of their
-military contingents—would mean virtual
-secession and denial of majority rule. If collective
-excitement and anger ran high, it
-might mean even more than secession; there
-were possibilities—first hinted at, later discussed
-without subterfuge—of actual and
-armed opposition should the Council attempt
-to enforce its decree and authority....
-Humanity, once more, was gathering into
-herds and growing sharply conscious alike of
-division and comradeship.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was some time before Theodore was even
-touched by the herding instinct and spirit;
-apart, in a delicate world of his own, he concerned
-himself even less than usual with the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>wider interests of politics. By his fellows in
-the Distribution Office he was known as an
-incurable optimist; even when the cloud had
-spread rapidly and darkened he saw “strained
-relations” through the eyes of a lover, and
-his mind, busied elsewhere, refused to dwell
-anxiously on “incidents” and “disquieting
-possibilities.” They intruded clumsily on his
-delicate world and, so soon as might be, he
-thrust them behind him and slipped back to
-the seclusion that belonged to himself and a
-woman. All his life, thought and impulse, for
-the time being, was a negation, a refusal of the
-idea of strife and destruction; in his happy
-egoism he planned to make and build—a home
-and a lifetime of content.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Now and again, and in spite of his reluctance,
-his veil of happy egoism was brushed aside—some
-chance word or incident forcing him to
-look upon the menace. There was the evening
-in Vallance’s rooms, for instance—where the
-talk settled down to the political crisis, and
-Holt, the long journalist, turned sharply on
-Vallance, who supposed we were drifting into
-war.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“That’s nonsense, Vallance! Nonsense!
-It’s impossible—unthinkable!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Unpleasant, if you like,” said Vallance;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>“but not impossible. At least—it never has
-been.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“That’s no reason,” Holt retorted; “we’re
-not living yesterday. There’ll be no war, and
-I’ll tell you why: because the men who will
-have to start it—daren’t!” He had a penetrating
-voice which he raised when excited,
-so that other talk died down and the room
-was filled with his argument. Politicians,
-he insisted, might bluff and use threats—menace
-with a bogy, shake a weapon they
-dared not use—but they would stop short at
-threats, manœuvre for position and retreat.
-Let loose modern science, mechanics and
-chemistry, they could not—there was a limit
-to human insanity, if only because there was
-a limit to the endurance of the soldier. Unless
-you supposed that all politicians were congenital
-idiots or criminal lunatics out to make
-holocausts. What was happening at present
-was manœuvring pure and simple; neither
-side caring to prejudice its case by open admission
-that appeal to force was unthinkable,
-each side hoping that the other would be the
-first to make the admission, each side trotting
-out the dummy soldiers that were only for show,
-and would soon be put back in their boxes....
-War, he repeated, was unthinkable....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>“Man,” said a voice behind Theodore,
-“does much that is unthinkable!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore turned that he might look at the
-speaker—Markham, something in the scientific
-line, who had sat in silence, with a pipe between
-his lips, till he dropped out his slow
-remark.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Your mistake,” he went on, “lies in taking
-these people—statesmen, politicians—for
-free agents, and in thinking they have only
-one fear. Look at Meyer’s speech this morning—that’s
-significant. He has been moderate
-so far, a restraining influence; now he
-breathes fire and throws in his lot with the
-extremists. What do you make of that?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Merely,” said Holt, “that Meyer has lost
-his head.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“In which happy state,” suggested Vallance,
-“the impossible and unthinkable mayn’t
-frighten him.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“That’s one explanation,” said Markham.
-“The other is that he is divided between his
-two fears—the fear of war and the fear of his
-democracy, which, being in a quarrelsome and
-restless mood, would break him if he flinched
-and applauds him to the echo when he blusters.
-And, maybe, at the moment, his fear of being
-broken is greater than his fear of the impossible—at
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>any rate the threat is closer....
-The man himself may be reasonable—even
-now—but he is the instrument of instinctive
-emotion. Almost any man, taken by himself,
-is reasonable—and, being reasonable, cautious.
-Meyer can think, just as well as you and I, so
-long as he stands outside a crowd; but neither
-you nor I, nor Meyer, can think when we are
-one with thousands and our minds are absorbed
-into a jelly of impulse and emotion.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I like your phrase about jelly,” said Vallance.
-“It has an odd picturesqueness. Your
-argument itself—or, rather, your assertion—strikes
-me as a bit sweeping.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“All the same,” Markham nodded, “it’s
-worth thinking over.... Man in the mass,
-as a crowd, can only feel; there is no such
-thing as a mass-mind or intellect—only mass
-desires and emotions. That is what I mean by
-saying that Meyer—whatever his intelligence
-or sanity—is the instrument of instinctive
-emotion.... And instinctive emotion, Holt—until
-it has been hurt—is damnably and
-owlishly courageous. It isn’t clever enough to
-be afraid; not even of red murder—or starvation
-by the million—or the latest thing in gas
-or high explosive. Stir it up enough and it’ll
-run on ’em—as the lemmings run to the sea.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>Holt snorted something that sounded like
-“Rot!” and Vallance, sprawling an arm along
-the mantelpiece, asked, “Another of your
-numerous theories?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“If you like,” Markham assented, “but it’s
-a theory deduced from hard facts.... It’s a
-fact, isn’t it, that no politician takes a crowd
-into his confidence until he wants to make a
-fight of it? It’s a fact, isn’t it, that no movements
-in mass are creative or constructive—that
-simultaneous action, simultaneous
-thought, always is and must be destructive?
-Set what we call the People in motion and something
-has got to be broken. The crowd-life is
-still at the elementary, the animal stage; it
-has not yet acquired the human power of
-construction&nbsp;... and the crowd, the people,
-democracy—whatever you like to call it—has
-been stirring in the last few years; getting
-conscious again, getting active, looking round
-for something to break&nbsp;... which means that
-the politician is faced once more with the
-necessity of giving it something to break.
-Naturally he prefers that the breakage should
-take place in the distance—and, League or no
-League, the eternal and obvious resource is
-War&nbsp;... which was not too risky when
-fought with swords and muskets, but now—as
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>Holt says—is impossible. Being a bit of a
-chemist, I’m sure Holt is right; but I’m also
-sure that man, as a herd, does not think.
-Further, I am doubtful if man, as a herd, ever
-finds out what is impossible except through
-the painful process of breaking his head against
-it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I’m a child in politics,” said Vallance,
-“and I may be dense—but I’m afraid it isn’t
-entirely clear to me whether your views are
-advanced or grossly and shamelessly reactionary?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Neither,” said Markham, “or both—you
-can take your choice. I have every sympathy
-with the people, the multitude; it’s hard lines
-that it can only achieve destruction—just because
-there is so much of it, because it isn’t
-smaller. But I also sympathize with the
-politician in his efforts to control the destructive
-impulse of the multitude. And, finally—in
-view of that progress of science of which
-Holt has reminded us, and of which I know a
-little myself—I’m exceedingly sorry for us
-all.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Someone from across the room asked:
-“You make it war, then?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I make it war. We have had peace for
-more than a generation, so our periodic blood-letting
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>is already a long time overdue. The
-League has staved it off for a bit, but it hasn’t
-changed the human constitution; and the
-real factor in the Karthanian quarrel—or any
-other—is the periodic need of the human herd
-for something to break and for something to
-break itself against.... Resistance and self-sacrifice—the
-need of them—the call of the
-lemming to the sea.... And, perhaps, it’s all
-the stronger in this generation because this
-generation has never known war, and does not
-fear it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Education,” said Holt, addressing the air,
-“is general and compulsory—has been so for
-a good many years. The inference being that
-the records of previous wars—and incidentally
-of the devastation involved—are not inaccessible
-to that large proportion of our population
-which is known as the average man.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“As printed pages, yes,” Markham agreed.
-“But what proportion even of a literate
-population is able to accept the statement of
-a printed page as if it were a personal experience?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“As we’re not all fools,” Holt retorted, “I
-don’t make it war.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I hope you’re right, for my own sake,”
-said Markham good-temperedly. He knocked
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>out his pipe as he spoke and made ready to
-go—while Theodore looked after him, interested,
-for the moment, disturbingly....
-Markham’s unemotional and matter-of-fact
-acceptance of “periodic blood-letting” made
-rumour suddenly real, and for the first time
-Theodore saw the Karthanian imbroglio as
-more than the substance of telegrams and
-articles, something human, actual, and alive....
-Saw himself, even Phillida, concerned
-in it—through a medley of confused and
-threatening shadows.... For the moment
-he was roused from his self-absorption and
-thrust into the world that he shared with the
-common herd of men. He and Phillida were
-no longer as the gods apart, with their lives to
-make in Eden; they were little human beings,
-the sport of a common human destiny....
-He remembered how eagerly he caught at
-Holt’s condemnation of Markham as a crank
-and Vallance’s next comment on the crisis.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“We had exactly the same scare three—or
-was it four?—years ago. This is the
-trouble about Transylvania all over again—just
-the same alarums and excursions. That
-fizzled out quietly in a month or six weeks
-and the chances are that Karthania will
-fizzle out, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>“Of course it will,” Holt declared with
-emphasis—and proceeded to demolish Markham’s
-theories. Theodore left before he had
-finished his argument; as explained dogmatically
-in Holt’s penetrating voice, the intrigues
-and dissensions of the Federal Council were
-once more unreal and frankly boring. The
-argument satisfied, but no longer interested—and
-ten minutes after Markham’s departure his
-thoughts had drifted away from politics to the
-private world he shared with Phillida Rathbone.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>For very delight of it he lingered over his
-courtship, finding charm in the pretence of
-uncertainty long after it had ceased to exist.
-To Phillida also there was pleasure not only
-in the winning, but in the exquisite game itself;
-once or twice when Theodore was hovering
-near avowal, she deferred the inevitable,
-eluded him with laughter, asked tacitly to
-play a little longer.... In the end the
-avowal came suddenly, on the flash and impulse
-of a moment—when Phillida hesitated
-over one of his gifts, a print she had admired
-on the wall of his sitting-room, duly brought
-the next day for her acceptance.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No, I oughtn’t to take it—it’s one of your
-treasures,” she remonstrated.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>“If you’d take all I have—and me with it,”
-he stammered.... That was the crisis of the
-exquisite game—and pretence of uncertainty
-was over.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>III</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>One impression of those first golden hours
-that stayed with him always was the certainty
-with which they had dwelt on the details of
-their common future; he could see Phillida
-with her hands on his shoulders explaining
-earnestly that they must live very near to the
-Dad—the dear old boy had no one but herself
-and they mustn’t let him miss her too much.
-And when Theodore asked, “You don’t think
-he’ll object to me?” Rathbone’s disapproval
-was the only possible cloud—which lifted at
-Phillida’s amused assurance that the old dear
-wasn’t as blind as all that and, having objections,
-would have voiced them before it was
-too late.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You don’t suppose he hasn’t noticed—just
-because he hasn’t said anything!”...
-Whereupon Theodore caught at her hands and
-demanded how long she had noticed?—and
-they fell to a happy retracing of this step and
-that in their courtship.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>When they heard Rathbone enter she ran
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>down alone, telling Theodore to stay where he
-was till she called him; returning in five
-minutes or so, half-tearful and half-smiling, to
-say the dear old thing was waiting in the library.
-Then Theodore, in his turn, went down
-to the library where, red to the ears and stammering
-platitudes, he shook hands with his
-future father-in-law—proceeding eventually
-to details of his financial position and the hope
-that Rathbone would not insist upon too lengthy
-an engagement?... The answer was so
-slow in coming that he repeated his question
-nervously.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No,” said Rathbone at last, “I don’t
-know that I”—(he laid stress on the pronoun)—“I
-don’t know that I should insist upon a
-very lengthy engagement. Only....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Again he paused so long that Theodore
-repeated “Only?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Only—there may be obstacles—not of
-my making or Phillida’s. Connected with the
-office—your work&nbsp;... I dare say you’ve
-been too busy with your own affairs to give
-very much attention to the affairs of the
-world in general; still I conclude the papers
-haven’t allowed you to forget that the
-Federal Council was to vote to-day on the
-resolution to take punitive action? Result
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>is just through—half an hour ago. Resolution
-carried, by a majority of one only.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Was it?” said Theodore—and remembered
-a vague impulse of resentment, a difficulty in
-bringing down his thoughts from Phillida to
-the earthiness of politics. It took him an
-effort and a moment to add: “Close thing—but
-they’ve pulled it off.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“They have,” said Rathbone. “Just pulled
-it off—but it remains to be seen if that’s
-matter for congratulation.... The vote commits
-us to action—definitely—and the minority
-have entered a protest against punitive
-action.... It seems unlikely that the protest
-is only formal.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He was dry and curiously deliberate—leaning
-back in his chair, speaking quietly,
-with fingers pressed together.... To the
-end Theodore remembered him like that; a
-square-jawed man, leaning back in his chair,
-speaking slowly, unemotionally—the harbinger
-of infinite misfortune.... And himself,
-the listener, a young man engrossed by his
-own new happiness; irritated, at first, by the
-intrusion of that which did not concern it;
-then (as once before in Vallance’s rooms)
-uneasy and conscious of a threat.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He heard himself asking, “You think it’s—serious?”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>and saw Rathbone’s mouth twist
-into the odd semblance of a smile.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I think so. One way or other we shall
-know within a week.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You can’t mean—war?” Theodore asked
-again—remembering Holt and his “Impossible!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It doesn’t seem unlikely,” said Rathbone.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He had risen, with his hands thrust deep
-into his pockets, and begun to pace backwards
-and forwards. “Something may happen at
-the last minute—but it’s difficult to see how
-they can draw back. They have gone too far.
-They’re committed, just as we are—committed
-to a principle.... If we yield the Council
-abdicates its authority once for all; it’s an
-end of the League—a plain break, and the
-Lord knows what next. And the other side
-daren’t stop at verbal protest. They will
-have to push their challenge; there’s too
-much clamour behind them....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“There was Transylvania,” Theodore reminded
-him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I know—and nothing came of it. But
-that wasn’t pushed quite so far.... They
-threatened, but never definitely—they left
-themselves a possibility of retreat. Now&nbsp;...
-as I said, something may happen&nbsp;... and,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>meanwhile, to go back to what I meant about
-you, personally, how this might affect you....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He dropped into swift explanation. “Considerable
-rearrangement in the work of the
-Department—if it should be necessary to place
-it on a war-footing.” Theodore’s duties—if
-the worst should happen—would certainly
-take him out of London and therefore part
-him from Phillida. “I can tell you that
-definitely—now.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Perhaps he realized that the announcement,
-on a day of betrothal, was brutal; for he
-checked himself suddenly in his walk to and
-fro, clapped the young man good-naturedly
-on the shoulder, repeated that “Something
-might happen” and supposed he would not be
-sorry to hear that a member of the Government
-required his presence—“So you and
-Phillida can dine without superfluous parents.”...
-And he said no word of war or parting to
-Phillida—who came down with Theodore to
-watch her father off, standing arm-in-arm
-upon the doorstep in the pride of her new relationship.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The threat lightened as they dined alone
-deliciously, as a foretaste of housekeeping in
-common; Phillida left him no thoughts to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>stray and only once, while the evening lasted,
-did they look from their private Paradise upon
-the world of common humanity. Phillida,
-as the clock neared ten, wondered vaguely
-what Henderson had wanted with her father?
-Was there anything particular, did Theodore
-know, any news about the Federal Council?...
-He hesitated for a moment, then told
-her the bare facts only—the vote and the
-minority protest.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“A protest,” she repeated. “That’s what
-they’ve all been afraid of.... It looks bad,
-doesn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He agreed it looked bad; thinking less, it
-may be, of the threat of red ruin and disaster
-than of Rathbone’s warning that his duties
-would part him from Phillida.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I hope it doesn’t mean war,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>At the time her voice struck him as serious,
-even anxious; later it amazed him that she
-had spoken so quietly, that there was no
-trembling of the slim white fingers that played
-with her chain of heavy beads.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Do you think it does?” she asked him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Because he remembered the threat of parting
-and had need of her daily presence, he was
-stubborn in declaring that it did not, and could
-not, mean war; quoting Holt that modern
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>war was impossible, that statesmen and
-soldiers knew it, and insisting that this was
-the Transylvanian business over again and
-would be settled as that was settled. She
-shook her head thoughtfully, having heard
-other views from her father; but her voice
-(he knew later) was thoughtful only—not a
-quiver, not a hint of real fear in it.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It’ll have to come sometime—now or in a
-year or two. At least, that’s what everybody
-says. I wonder if it’s true.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No,” he said, “it isn’t—unless we make it
-true. This sort of thing—it’s a kind of common
-nightmare we have now and then. Every
-few years—and when it’s over we turn round
-and wake up and wonder what the devil we
-were frightened about.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes,” she agreed, “when you come to
-think of it, it is rather like that. I don’t
-remember in the least what the fuss was all
-about last time—but I know the papers were
-full of Transylvania and the poor old Dad was
-worked off his head for a week or two....
-And then it was over and we forgot all about
-it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>And at that they turned and went back to
-their golden solitude, shutting out, for the rest
-of the evening, a world that made protests and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>sent ominous telegrams. Before Theodore
-left her, to walk home restless with delight,
-they had decided on the fashion of Phillida’s
-ring and planned the acquisition of a Georgian
-house—with powder-closet.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was his restless delight that made sleep
-impossible—and he sat at his window and
-smoked till the east was red.... While
-Henderson and Rathbone, a mile or two away,
-planned Distribution on a war-footing.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Events in the next few days moved rapidly
-in an atmosphere of tense and rising life;
-races and peoples were suddenly and acutely
-conscious of their life collective, and the
-neighbourly quarrel and bitterness of yesterday
-was forgotten in the new comradeship
-born of common hatred and common passion
-for self-sacrifice. There was talk at first, with
-diplomatists and leader-writers, of a possibility
-of localizing the conflict; but within
-forty-eight hours of the issue of the minority
-protest it was clear that the League would be
-rent. On one side, as on the other, statesmen
-were popular only when known to be unyielding
-in the face of impossible demands; crowds
-gathered when ministers met to take counsel
-and greeted them with cries to stand fast.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>Behind vulgar effervescence and music-hall
-thunder was faith in a righteous cause; and,
-as ever, man believed in himself and his cause
-with a hand on the hilt of his sword. Freedom
-and justice were suddenly real and attainable
-swiftly—through violence wrought
-on their enemies.... Humanity, once more,
-was inspired by ideals that justified the shedding
-of blood and looked death in the face
-without fear.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As always, there were currents and crosscurrents,
-and those who were not seized by the
-common, splendid passion denounced it. Some
-meanly, by distortion of motive—crying down
-faith as cupidity and the impulse to self-sacrifice
-as arrogance; and others, more
-worthy of hearing, who realized that the
-impulse to self-sacrifice is passing and the
-idealism of to-day the bestial cunning of
-to-morrow.... On one side and the other
-there was an attempt on the part of those who
-foresaw something, at least, of the inevitable,
-to pit fear against the impulse to self-sacrifice
-and make clear to a people to whom war
-was a legend only the extent of disaster ahead.
-The attempt was defeated, almost as begun,
-by the sudden launching of an ultimatum
-with twenty-four hours for reply.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>At the news young men surged to the recruiting-stations,
-awaiting their turn for admission
-in long shouting, jesting lines; the
-best blood and honour of a generation that
-had not yet sated its inborn lust of combat.
-Women stood to watch them as their ranks
-moved slowly to the goal—some proud to
-tears, others giggling a foolish approval.
-Great shifting crowds—men and women who
-could not rest—gathered in public places and
-awaited the inevitable news. In the last few
-hours—all protest being useless—even the
-loudest of the voices that clamoured against
-war had died down; and in the life collective
-was the strange, sudden peace which comes
-with the cessation of internal feud and the
-focusing of hatred on those who dwell beyond
-a nation’s borders.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore Savage, in the days that followed
-his betrothal, was kept with his nose to the
-Distributive grindstone, working long hours
-of overtime in an atmosphere transformed out
-of knowledge. The languid and formal routine
-of departments was succeeded by a fever
-of hurried innovation; gone were the lazy,
-semi-occupied hours when he had been wont to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>play with his thoughts of Phillida and the long
-free evenings that were hers as a matter of
-course. In the beginning he felt himself
-curiously removed from the strong, heady
-atmosphere that affected others like wine.
-Absorption in Phillida counted for something
-in his aloofness, but even without it his temperament
-was essentially averse from the
-crowd-life; he was stirred by the common
-desire to be of service, but was conscious of no
-mounting of energy restless and unsatisfied....
-Having little conviction or bias in politics,
-he accepted without question the general
-version of the origins of conflict and resented,
-in orthodox fashion, the gross breach of faith
-and agreement which betrayed long established
-design. “It had got to be” and
-“They’ve been getting ready for years” were
-phrases on the general lip which he saw no
-reason to discredit; and, with acceptance of
-the inevitability of conflict, he ceased to find
-conflict “unthinkable.” In daily intercourse
-with those to whom it was thinkable, practical,
-a certainty—to some, in the end, a desirable
-certainty—Holt’s phrase lost its meaning and
-became a symbolic extravagance.... So far
-he was caught in the swirl of the crowd-life;
-but he was never one with it and remained
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>conscious of it always as something that
-flowed by him, something apart from himself.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Above all he knew it as something apart
-when he saw how it had seized and mastered
-Phillida. She was curiously alive to its sweep
-and emotion, and beneath her outward daintiness
-lay the power of fervid partisanship.
-“If it weren’t for you,” she told him once, “I
-should break my heart because I’m only a
-woman”; and he saw that she pitied him,
-that she was even resentful for his sake, when
-she learned from her father that there was no
-question of allowing the clerks of the Distribution
-Office to volunteer for military service.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“He says the Department will need all its
-trained men and that modern war is won by
-organization even more than by fighting. I’m
-glad you won’t have to go, my dear—I’m
-glad—” and, saying it, she clung to him as to
-one who stood in need of consolation.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He felt the implied consolation and sympathy—with
-a twinge of conscience, not
-entirely sure of deserving it. But for the
-rigid departmental order, he knew he should
-have thought it his duty to volunteer and take
-his share of the danger that others were
-clamouring to face; but he had not cursed
-vehemently, like his junior, Cassidy, when
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>Holles, equally blasphemous, burst into the
-room with the news that enlistment was
-barred. He thought of Cassidy’s angry blue
-eyes as he swore that, by hook or by crook, he
-would find his way into the air-service....
-Phillida would have sympathized with Cassidy
-and the flash of her eyes answered his; she
-too, for the moment, was one with the crowd-life,
-and there were moments when he felt it
-was sweeping her away from his hold.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He felt it most on their last evening, on the
-night the ultimatum expired; when he came
-from the office, after hours of overtime, uncertain
-whether he should find her, wondering
-whether her excited restlessness had driven
-her out into the crowds that surged round
-Whitehall. As he ran up the stairs the sound
-of a piano drifted from the room above; no
-definite melody but a vague, irregular striking
-of chords that came to an end as he entered the
-room and Phillida looked up, expectant.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“At last,” she said as she ran to him.
-“You don’t know how I have wanted you.
-I can’t be alone—if you hadn’t turned up I
-should have had to find someone to talk to.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Anyone—didn’t matter who?” he suggested.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She laughed, caught his hand and rubbed
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>her cheek against it. “Yes, anyone—you
-know what I mean. It’s just—when you
-think of what’s happening, how can you keep
-still?... As for father, I never see him
-nowadays. I suppose there isn’t any news?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“There can’t be,” he answered. “Not till
-twelve.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No—and even at twelve it won’t really be
-news. Just no answer—and the time will be
-up.... We’re at peace now—till midnight....
-What’s the time?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He longed to be alone with her—alone with
-her in thought as well as in outward seeming—but
-her talk slipped restlessly away from his
-leading and she moved uncertainly about the
-room, returning at last to her vague striking
-of the piano—sharp, isolated notes, and then
-suddenly a masterful chord.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Play to me,” he asked, “play properly.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She shook her head and declared it was impossible.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Anything connected is beyond me; I can
-only strum and make noises.” She crashed in
-the bass, rushed a swift arpeggio to the
-treble, then turned to him, her eyes wide and
-glowing. “If you hold your breath, can’t
-you feel them all waiting?—thousands on
-thousands—all through the world?...
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>Waiting till midnight&nbsp;... can’t you feel
-it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You make me feel it,” he answered.
-“Tell me—you want war?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The last words came out involuntarily, and
-it was only the startled, sudden change in her
-face that brought home to him what he had said.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I want war,” she echoed.... “I want
-men to be killed.... Theodore, what makes
-you say that?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He fumbled for words, not sure of his own
-meaning—sure only that her eyes would
-change and lose their fervour if, at the last
-moment and by God-sent miracle, the sword
-were returned to its sheath.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Not that, of course—not the actual fighting.
-I didn’t mean that.... But isn’t there
-something in you—in you and in everyone—that’s
-too strong to be arrested? Too swift?...
-If nothing happened—if we drew back—you
-couldn’t be still now; you couldn’t endure
-it....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She looked at him thoughtfully, puzzled,
-half-assenting; then protested again: “I
-don’t want it—but we can’t be still and endure
-evil.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No,” he said, “we can’t—but isn’t there
-a gladness in the thought that we can’t?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>“Because we’re right,” she flashed. “It’s
-not selfish—you know it isn’t selfish. We see
-what is right and, whatever it costs us, we
-stand for it. The greatest gladness of all is
-the gladness of giving—everything, even life....
-That’s what makes me wish I were a
-man!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“The passion for self-sacrifice,” he said,
-quoting Markham. “I was told the other day
-it was one of the causes of war.... Don’t
-look at me so reproachfully—I’m not a
-pacifist. Give me a kiss and believe me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She laughed and gave him the kiss he asked
-for, and for a minute or two he drew her out
-of the crowd-life and they were alone together
-as they had been on the night of their betrothal.
-Then the spirit of restlessness took
-hold of her again and she rose suddenly,
-declaring they must find out what was happening—they
-must go out and see for themselves.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It’s only just past ten,” he argued.
-“What can be happening for another two
-hours? There’ll only be a crowd—walking up
-and down and waiting.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was just the crowd and its going to and
-fro that she needed, and she set to work to
-coax him out of his reluctance. There would
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>never be another night like this one—they
-must see it together and remember it as long
-as they lived.... Perhaps, her point gained,
-she was remorseful, for she rewarded his assent
-with a caress and a coaxing apology.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“We shall have so many evenings to ourselves,”
-she told him—“and to-night—to-night
-we don’t only belong to ourselves.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He could feel her arm tremble and thrill on
-his own as they came in sight of the Clock
-Tower and the swarm of expectant humanity
-that moved and murmured round Westminster.
-On him the first impression was of
-seething insignificance that the Clock Tower
-dwarfed and the dignity of night reproved;
-on her, as he knew by the trembling of her
-fingers, a quickening of life and sensation....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>They were still at the shifting edges of the
-crowd when a man’s voice called “Phillida!”
-and one of her undergraduate cousins linked
-himself on to their company. For nearly an
-hour the three moved backwards and forwards—through
-the hum and mutter of voices, the
-ceaseless turning of eyes to Big Ben and the
-shuffling of innumerable feet.... When the
-quarters chimed, there was always a hush;
-when eleven throbbed solemnly, no man
-stirred till the last beat died.... With
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>silence and arrested movement the massed
-humanity at the base of the Clock Tower was
-no longer a seething insignificance; without
-speech, without motion, it was suddenly dignified—life
-faced with its destiny and intent
-upon a Moving Finger....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Only one more hour,” whispered Phillida
-as the silence broke; and the Rathbone boy,
-to show he was not moved, wondered if it was
-worth their while to stay pottering about for
-an hour?... No one answered his question,
-since it needed no answer; and, the dignity
-of silence over, they drifted again with the
-crowd.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>IV</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>The Moving Finger had written off another
-five minutes or so when police were suddenly
-active and sections of the crowd lunged uncomfortably;
-way was being made for the
-passing of an official car—and in the backward
-swirl of packed humanity Theodore was thrust
-one way, Phillida and the Rathbone boy
-another. For a moment he saw them as they
-looked round and beckoned him; the next,
-the swirl had carried him yet further—and
-when it receded they were lost amongst the
-drifting, shifting thousands. After ten minutes
-more of pushing to and fro in search of
-them, Theodore gave up the chase as fruitless
-and made his way disconsolately to the Westminster
-edge of the crowd.... Phillida, if
-he knew her, would stay till the stroke of
-midnight, later if the spirit moved her; and
-she had an escort in the Rathbone boy, who,
-in due time, would see her home.... There
-was no need to worry—but he cursed the luck
-of what might be their last evening.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>For a time he lingered uncertainly on the
-edge of the pushing, shuffling mass; perhaps
-would have lingered till the hour struck, if
-there had not drifted to his memory the evening
-at Vallance’s when Holt had declared this
-night to be impossible—and when Markham
-had “made it war.” And, with that, he
-remembered also that Markham had rooms
-near by—in one of the turnings off Great Smith
-Street.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There was a light in the room that he knew
-for Markham’s and it was only after he had
-rung that he wondered what had urged him to
-come. He was still wondering when the door
-opened and could think of no better explanation
-than “I saw you were up—by your light.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“If you’d passed five minutes ago,” said
-Markham, as he led the way upstairs, “you
-wouldn’t have seen any light. I’m only just
-back from the lab—and dining off biscuits and
-whisky.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Is this making any difference to you,
-then?” Theodore asked. “I mean, in the
-way of work?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Markham nodded as he poured out his
-visitor’s whisky. “Yes, I’m serving the
-country—the military people have taken me
-over, lock and stock: with everyone else,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>apparently, who has ever done chemical
-research. I’ve been pretty hard at it the last
-few days, ever since the scare was serious....
-And you—are you soldiering?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No,” said Theodore and told him of the
-departmental prohibition.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It mayn’t make much difference in the
-end,” said Markham.... “You see, I was
-right—the other evening.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes,” Theodore answered, “I believe that
-was why I came in. The crowd to-night
-reminded me of what you said at Vallance’s—though
-I don’t think I believed you then....
-How long is it going to last?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“God knows,” said Markham, with his
-mouth full of biscuit. “We shall have had
-enough of it—both sides—before very long;
-but it’s one thing to march into hell with your
-head up and another to find a way out....
-There’s only one thing I’m fairly certain about—I
-ought to have been strangled at birth.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore stared at him, not sure he had
-caught the last words.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You ought to——?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes—you heard me right. If the human
-animal must fight—and nothing seems to stop
-it—it should kill off its scientific men. Stamp
-out the race of ’em, forbid it to exist....
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>Holt was also right that evening, fundamentally.
-You can’t combine the practice of
-science and the art of war; in the end, it’s one
-or the other. We, I think, are going to prove
-that—very definitely.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“And when you’ve proved it—we stop
-fighting?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Markham shrugged his shoulders, thrust
-aside his plate and filled his pipe.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Curious, the failure to understand the
-influence on ourselves of what we make and
-use. We just make and use and damn the
-consequence.... When Lavoisier invented
-the chemical balance, did he stop to consider
-the possibilities of chemical action in combination
-with outbursts of human emotion? If he
-had...!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In the silence that followed they heard the
-chiming of three-quarters—and there flashed
-inconsequently into Theodore’s memory, a
-vision of himself, a small boy with his hand in
-his mother’s, staring up, round-eyed, at Big
-Ben of London—while his mother taught him
-the words that were fitted to the chime.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c008'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Lord—through—this—hour</div>
- <div class='line'>Be—Thou—our—guide,</div>
- <div class='line'>So—by—Thy—power</div>
- <div class='line'>No—foot—shall—slide.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>... That, or something like that.... Odd,
-that he should remember them now—when
-for years he had not remembered.... “Lord—through—this—hour——”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He realized suddenly that Markham was
-speaking—in jerks, between pulls at his pipe.
-“... And the same with mechanics—not the
-engine but the engine plus humanity. Take
-young James Watt and his interest in the lid
-of a tea-kettle! In France, by the way, they
-tell the same story of Papin; but, so far as the
-rest of us are concerned it doesn’t much matter
-who first watched the lid of a kettle with
-intelligence—the point is that somebody
-watched it and saw certain of its latent possibilities.
-Only its more immediate possibilities—and
-we may take it for granted that
-amongst those which he did not foresee were
-the most important. The industrial system—the
-drawing of men into crowds where they
-might feed the machine and be fed by it—the
-shrinkage of the world through the use of
-mechanical transport. That—the shrinkage—when
-we first saw it coming, we took to
-mean union of peoples and the clasping of
-distant hands—forgetting that it also meant
-the cutting of distant throats.... Yet it
-might have struck us that we are all potential
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>combatants—and the only known method of
-preventing a fight is to keep the combatants
-apart! These odd, simple facts that we all of
-us know—and lose sight of&nbsp;... the drawing
-together of peoples has always meant the clashing
-of their interests&nbsp;... and so new hatreds.
-Inevitably new hatreds.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore quoted: “‘All men hate each
-other naturally’.... You believe that?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Of individuals, no—but of all communities,
-yes. Is there any form of the life collective
-that is capable of love for its fellow—for
-another community? Is there any church
-that will stand aside that another church may
-be advantaged?&nbsp;... You and I are civilized,
-as man and man; but collectively we are part
-of a life whose only standard and motive is
-self-interest, its own advantage&nbsp;... a beast-life,
-morally. If you understand that, you
-understand to-night&nbsp;... Which demands from
-us sacrifices, makes none itself.... That’s
-as far as we have got in the mass.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Through the half-open window came the
-hum and murmur of the crowd that waited for
-the hour.... Theodore stirred restlessly,
-conscious of the unseen turning of countless
-faces to the clock—and aware, through the
-murmur, of the frenzied little beating of his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>watch.... He hesitated to look at it—and
-when he drew it out and said “Five minutes
-more,” his voice sounded oddly in his ears.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Five minutes,” said Markham.... He
-laughed suddenly and pushed the bottle across
-the table. “Do you know where we are now—you
-and I and all of us? On the crest of the
-centuries. They’ve carried us a long roll
-upwards and now here we are—on top! In
-five more minutes—three hundred little seconds—we
-shall hear the crest curl over....
-Meanwhile, have a drink!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He checked himself and held up a finger.
-“Your watch is slow!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The hum and murmur of the crowd had
-ceased and through silence unbroken came the
-prayer of the Westminster chime.</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c008'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Lord—through—this—hour</div>
- <div class='line'>Be—Thou—our—guide,</div>
- <div class='line'>So—by—Thy—power</div>
- <div class='line'>No—foot—shall—slide.</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c006'>There was no other sound for the twelve
-booming strokes of the hour: it was only as
-the last beat quivered into silence that there
-broke the moving thunder of a multitude.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Over!” said Markham. “Hear it crash?...
-Well, here’s to the centuries—after all,
-they did the best they knew for us!”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>V</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>The war-footing arrangements of the Distribution
-Office included a system of food control
-involving local supervision; hence provincial
-centres came suddenly into being, and
-to one of these—at York—Theodore Savage
-was dispatched at little more than an hour’s
-notice on the morning after war was declared.
-He telephoned Phillida and they met at King’s
-Cross and had ten hurried minutes on the
-platform; she was still eager and excited,
-bubbling over with the impulse to action—was
-hoping to start training for hospital work—had
-been promised an opening—she would
-tell him all about it when she wrote. Her excitement
-took the bitterness out of the parting—perhaps,
-in her need to give and serve, she
-was even proud that the sacrifice of parting
-was demanded of her.... The last he saw
-of her was a smiling face and a cheery little
-wave of the hand.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He made the journey to York with a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>carriageful of friendly and talkative folk who,
-in normal days, would have been strangers to
-him and to each other; as it was, they exchanged
-newspapers and optimistic views and
-grew suddenly near to each other in their
-common interest and resentment.... That
-was what war meant in those first stirring
-days—friendliness, good comradeship, the
-desire to give and serve, the thrill of unwonted
-excitement.... Looking back from after
-years it seemed to him that mankind, in those
-days, was finer and more gracious than he had
-ever known it—than he would ever know it
-again.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>The first excitement over, he lived somewhat
-tediously at York between his office and
-dingily respectable lodgings; discovering very
-swiftly that, so far as he, Theodore Savage,
-was concerned, a state of hostilities meant the
-reverse of alarums and excursions. For him
-it was the strictest of official routine and the
-multiplication of formalities. His hours of
-liberty were fewer than in London, his duties
-more tiresome, his chief less easy to get on
-with; there was frequent overtime, and leave—which
-meant Phillida—was not even a
-distant possibility. For all his honest desire
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>of service he was soon frankly bored by his
-work; its atmosphere of minute regularity
-and insistent detail was out of keeping with
-the tremor and uncertainty of war, and there
-was something æsthetically wrong about a
-fussy process of docketing and checking while
-nations were at death grips and the fate of a
-world in the balance.... His one personal
-satisfaction was the town, York itself—the
-walls, the Bars, and above all the Minster;
-he lodged near the Minster, could see it from
-his window, and its enduring dignity was a
-daily relief alike from the feverish perusal of
-war news, his landlady’s colour-scheme and
-taste in furniture and the fidgety trifling of
-the office.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In the evening he read many newspapers
-and wrote long letters to Phillida; who also,
-he gathered, had discovered that war might
-be tedious. “We haven’t any patients yet,”
-she scribbled him in one of her later letters,
-“but, of course, I’m learning all sorts of things
-that will be useful later on, when we do get
-them. Bandaging and making beds—and then
-we attend lectures. It’s rather dull waiting
-and bandaging each other for practice—but
-naturally I’m thankful that there aren’t
-enough casualties to go round. Up to now the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>regular hospitals have taken all that there are—‘temporaries’
-like us don’t get even a look
-in.... The news is really splendid, isn’t
-it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There were few casualties in the beginning
-because curiously little happened; Western
-Europe was removed from the actual storm-centre,
-and in England, after the first few days
-of alarmist rumours concerning invasion by
-air and sea, the war, for a time, settled down
-into a certain amount of precautionary rationing
-and a daily excitement in newspaper form—so
-much so that the timorous well-to-do,
-who had retired from London on the outbreak
-of hostilities, trickled back in increasing numbers.
-Hostilities, in the beginning, were local
-and comparatively ineffective; one of the
-results of the limitation of troops and armaments
-enforced by the constitution of the
-League was to give to the opening moves of
-the contest a character unprepared and
-amateurish. The aim, on either side, was to
-obtain time for effective preparation, to
-organize forces and resources; to train
-fighters and mobilize chemists, to convert
-factories, manufacture explosive and gas, and
-institute a system of co-operation between the
-strategy of far-flung allies. Hence, in the beginning,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>the conflict was partial and, as regards
-its strategy, hesitating; there were
-spasms of bloody incident which were deadly
-enough in themselves, but neither side cared
-to engage itself seriously before it had attained
-its full strength.... First blood was shed in
-a fashion that was frankly mediæval; the
-heady little democracy whose failure to establish
-a claim in the Court of Arbitration had
-been the immediate cause of the conflict, flung
-itself with all its half-civilized resources upon
-its neighbour and enemy, the victorious party
-to the suit. Between the two little communities
-was a treasured feud which had burst out
-periodically in defiance of courts and councils;
-and, control once removed, the border tribesmen
-gathered for the fray with all the enthusiasm
-of their rude forefathers, and raided each
-other’s territory in bands armed with knives
-and revolvers. Their doings made spirited
-reading in the press in the early days of the
-war—before the generality of newspaper readers
-had even begun to realize that battles
-were no longer won by the shock of troops and
-that the root-principle of modern warfare was
-the use of the enemy civilian population as an
-auxiliary destructive force.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Certain states and races grasped the principle
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>sooner than others, being marked out for
-early enlightenment by the accident of geographical
-position. In those not immediately
-affected, such as Britain, censorship on either
-side ruled out, as impossible for publication,
-the extent of the damage inflicted on allies,
-and the fact that it was not only in enemy
-countries that large masses of population,
-hunted out of cities by chemical warfare and
-the terror from above, had become nomadic
-and predatory. That, as the struggle grew
-fiercer, became, inevitably, the declared aim
-of the strategist; the exhaustion of the
-enemy by burdening him with a starving and
-nomadic population. War, once a matter of
-armies in the field, had resolved itself into an
-open and thorough-going effort to ruin enemy
-industry by setting his people on the run; to
-destroy enemy agriculture not only by incendiary
-devices—the so-called poison-fire—but
-by the secondary and even more potent
-agency of starving millions driven out to
-forage as they could.... The process, in
-the stilted phrase of the communiqué, was
-described as “displacement of population”;
-and displacement of population, not victory
-in the field, became the real military
-objective.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>To the soldier, at least, it was evident very
-early in the struggle that the perfection of
-scientific destruction had entailed, of necessity,
-the indirect system of strategy associated with
-industrial warfare; displacement of population
-being no more than a natural development
-of the striker’s method of attacking a government
-by starving the non-combatant community.
-The aim of the scientific soldier, like
-that of the soldier of the past, was to cut his
-enemy’s communications, to intercept and
-hamper his supplies; and the obvious way to
-attain that end was by ruthless disorganization
-of industrial centres, by letting loose a famished
-industrial population to trample and
-devour his crops. Manufacturing districts, on
-either side, were rendered impossible to work
-in by making them impossible to live in; and
-from one crowded centre after another there
-streamed out squalid and panic-stricken herds,
-devouring the country as they fled. Seeking
-food, seeking refuge, turning this way or that;
-pursued by the terror overhead or imagining
-themselves pursued; and breaking, striving to
-separate, to make themselves small and invisible....
-And, as air-fleets increased in
-strength and tactics were perfected—as one
-centre of industry after another went down
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>and out—the process of disintegration was
-rapid. To the tentative and hesitating opening
-of the war had succeeded a fury of widespread
-destruction; and statesmen, rendered
-desperate by the sudden crumbling of their
-own people—the sudden lapse into primitive
-conditions—could hope for salvation only
-through a quicker process of “displacement”
-on the enemy side.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There were reasons, political and military,
-why the average British civilian, during the
-opening phases of the struggle, knew little of
-warfare beyond certain food restrictions, the
-news vouchsafed in the communiqués and the
-regulation comments thereon; the enemy
-forces which might have brought home to him
-the meaning of the term “displacement”
-were occupied at first with other and nearer
-antagonists. Hence continental Europe—and
-not Europe alone—was spotted with ulcers of
-spreading devastation before displacement
-was practised in England. There had been
-stirrings of uneasiness from time to time—of
-uneasiness and almost of wonder that the
-weapon she was using with deadly effect had
-not been turned against herself; but at the
-actual moment of invasion there was something
-like public confidence in a speedy end to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>the struggle—and the principal public grievance
-was the shortage and high price of
-groceries.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Whatever he forgot and confused in after
-days—and there were stretches of time that
-remained with him only as a blur—Theodore
-remembered very clearly every detail and
-event of the night when disaster began.
-Young Hewlett’s voice as he announced
-disaster—and what he, Theodore, was doing
-when the boy rapped on the window. Not
-only what happened, but his mood when the
-interruption came and the causes of it; he had
-suffered an irritating day at the office, crossed
-swords with a self-important chief and been
-openly snubbed for his pains. As a result, his
-landlady’s evening grumble on the difficulties
-of war-time housekeeping seemed longer and
-less bearable than usual, and he was still out of
-tune with the world in general when he sat
-down to write to Phillida. He remembered
-phrases of the letter—never posted—wherein
-he worked off his irritation. “I got into
-trouble to-day through thinking of you when
-I was supposed to be occupied with indents.
-You are responsible, Blessed Girl, for several
-most horrible muckers, affecting the service of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>the country.... Your empty hospital don’t
-want you and my empty-headed boss don’t
-want me—oh, lady mine, if I could only make
-him happy by sacking myself and catching
-the next train to London!”&nbsp;... And so on
-and so on....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was late, nearing midnight, when he
-finished his letter and, for want of other occupation,
-turned back to a half-read evening
-paper; the communiqués were meagre, but
-there was a leading article pointing out the
-inevitable effect of displacement on the enemy’s
-resources and morale,<a id='t70'></a> and he waded through its
-comfortable optimism. As he laid aside the
-paper he realized how sleepy he was and rose
-yawning; he was on his way to the door, with
-intent to turn in, when the rapping on the
-window halted him. He pulled aside the
-blind and saw a face against the glass—pressed
-close, with a flattened white nose.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Who’s that?” he asked, pushing up the
-window. It was Hewlett, one of his juniors
-at the office, out of breath with running and
-excitement.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I say, Savage, come along out. There’s
-no end going on—fires, the whole sky’s red.
-They’ve come over at last and no mistake.
-Crashaw and I have been watching ’em and I
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>thought you’d like to have a look. It’s worth
-seeing—we’re just along there, on the wall.
-Hurry up!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The boy was dancing with eagerness to get
-back and Theodore had to run to keep up with
-him. He and Crashaw, Hewlett explained in
-gasps, had spent the evening in a billiard-room;
-it was on their way back to their
-diggings that they had noticed sudden lights
-in the sky—sort of flashes—and gone up on
-the wall to see better.... No, it wasn’t only
-searchlights—you could see them too—sudden
-flashes and the sky all red. Fires—to the
-south. It was the real thing, no doubt about
-that—and the only wonder was why they
-hadn’t come before.... At the head of the
-steps leading up to the wall were three or four
-figures with their heads all turned one way;
-and as Hewlett, mounting first, called “Still
-going on?” another voice called back,
-“Rather!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>They stood on the broad, flat wall and
-watched—in a chill little wind. The skyline
-to the south and south-west was reddened with
-a glow that flickered and wavered spasmodically
-and, as Hewlett had said, there were
-flashes—the bursting of explosive or star-shells.
-Also there were moments when the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>reddened skyline throbbed suddenly in places,
-grew vividly golden and sent out long fiery
-streamers.... They guessed at direction and
-wondered how far off; the wind was blowing
-sharply from the north, towards the glow;
-hence it carried sound away from them and it
-was only now and then that they caught more
-than a mutter and rumble.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As the minutes drew out the news spread
-through the town and the watchers on the
-wall increased in numbers; not only men but
-women, roused from bed, who greeted the
-flares with shrill, excited “Oh’s” and put
-ceaseless questions to their men folk. Young
-Hewlett, at Theodore’s elbow, gave himself
-up to frank interest in his first sight of war;
-justifying a cheerfulness that amounted to
-enthusiasm by explaining at intervals that he
-guessed our fellows were giving ’em what for
-and by this time they were sorry they’d come....
-Once a shawled woman demanded tartly
-why they didn’t leave off, then, if they’d had
-enough? Whereat Hewlett, unable to think
-of an answer, pretended not to hear and moved
-away.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Of his own sensations while he watched from
-the wall Theodore remembered little save the
-bodily sensation of chill; he saw himself
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>standing with his back to the wind, his
-shoulders hunched and the collar of his coat
-turned up. The murmur of hushed voices
-remained with him and odd snatches of fragmentary
-talk; there was the woman who
-persisted uneasily, “But you can’t ’ear ’em
-coming with these ’ere silent engines—why,
-they might be right over us naow!” And
-the man who answered her gruffly with “You’d
-jolly well know if they were!”&nbsp;... And perpetual
-conjecture as to distance and direction
-of the glow; disputes between those who asserted
-that over there was Leeds, and those
-who scoffed contemptuously at the idea—arguing
-that, if Leeds were the centre of
-disturbance, the guns would have sounded
-much nearer.... Petty talk, he remembered,
-and plainly enough—but not how much
-he feared or foresaw. He must have been
-anxious, uneasy, or he would not have stood
-for long hours in the chill of the wind; but his
-definite impressions were only of scattered,
-for the most part uneducated, talk, of silhouetted
-figures that shifted and grouped, of
-turning his eyes from the lurid skyline to the
-shadowy rock that in daylight was the mass of
-the cathedral.... In the end sheer craving
-for warmth drove him in; leaving Hewlett
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>and Crashaw deaf to his reminder that the
-office expected them at nine.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>With the morning came news and—more
-plentifully—rumour; also, the wind having
-dropped, a persistent thunder from the
-south. Industrial Yorkshire, it was clear, was
-being subjected to that process of human displacement
-which, so far, it had looked on as an
-item in the daily communiqué; the attack,
-moreover, was an attack in force, since the
-invaders did not find it needful to desist with
-the passing of darkness. Rumour, in the
-absence of official intelligence, invented an
-enveloping air-fleet which should cut them off
-from their base; and meanwhile the thunder
-continued....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>This much, at least, was shortly official and
-certain: nearly all rail, road and postal communication
-to the south was cut off—trains
-had ceased to run Londonwards and ordinary
-traffic on the highways was held up at barriers
-and turned back. Only military cars used
-the roads—and returned to add their reports
-to those brought in by air-scouts; but as a
-rule the information they furnished was for
-official enlightenment only, and it was not till
-the refugees arrived in numbers that the full
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>meaning of displacement was made clear to
-the ordinary man.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was after the second red night that the
-refugees appeared in their thousands—a horde
-of human rats driven out of their holes by
-terror, by fire and by gas. Whatever their
-status and possessions in the life of peace, they
-came with few exceptions on foot; as roads,
-like railways, were a target for the airman,
-the highway was avoided for the by-path or
-the open field, and the flight from every panic-stricken
-centre could be traced by long wastes
-of trampled crops. There were those who,
-terrified beyond bearing by the crash of
-masonry and long trembling underground,
-saw safety only in the roofless open, refused
-to enter houses and persisted in huddling in
-fields—unafraid, as yet, of the so-called
-poison-fire which had licked up the crops in
-Holderness and the corn-growing district
-round Pontefract.... Leeds, for a day or
-two, was hardly touched; but with the outpouring
-of fugitives from Dewsbury, Wakefield,
-Halifax and Bradford, Leeds also began
-to vomit her terrified multitudes. A wave of
-vagrant destitution rushed suddenly and
-blindly northward—anywhere away from the
-ruin of explosive, the flames and death by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>suffocation; while authority strove vainly
-to control and direct the torrent of overpowering
-misery.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was in the early morning that the torrent
-reached York and rolled through it; overwhelming
-the charity, private and public, that
-at first made efforts to cope with the rush of
-misery. Theodore’s room for a time was given
-up to a man with bandaged eyes and puffed
-face whom his wife had led blindfold from
-Castleford. The man himself sat dumb and
-suffering, breathing heavily through blistered
-lips; the woman raged vulgarly against the
-Government which had neglected to supply
-them with gas-masks, to have the place properly
-defended, to warn people! “The bloody
-fools ought to have known what was coming
-and if her man was blinded for the rest of his
-life it was all the fault of this ’ere Government
-that never troubled its blasted ’ead as long as
-it drew its money.”&nbsp;... That was in the
-beginning, before the flood of misery had
-swollen so high that even the kindliest shrank
-from its squalid menace; and Theodore, because
-it was the first he heard, remembered her
-story when he had forgotten others more
-piteous.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Before midday there was only one problem
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>for local authority, civil and military—the
-disposal of displaced population; that is to
-say, the herding of vagrants that could not
-all be sheltered, that could not all be fed, that
-blackened fields, choked streets, drove onward
-and sank from exhaustion. The railway line
-to the north was still clear and, in obedience
-to wireless instructions from London, trains
-packed with refugees were sent off to the
-north, with the aim of relieving the pressure
-on local resources. Disorganization of transport
-increased the difficulty of food supply
-and even on the first day of panic and migration
-the agricultural community were raising
-a cry of alarm. Blind terror and hunger
-between them wrought havoc; fields were
-trampled and fugitives were plundering
-already—would plunder more recklessly
-to-morrow.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>All day, all night, displaced humanity came
-stumbling in panic from the south and south-west;
-spreading news of the torment it had
-fled from, the dead it had left and the worse
-than dead who still crouched in an inferno
-whence they could not summon courage to
-fly. The railways could not deal with a tithe
-of the number who clamoured to be carried to
-the north, into safety; by the first evening
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>the town was well-nigh eaten out, and householders,
-hardening their hearts against misery,
-were bolting themselves in, for fear of misery
-grown desperate. While out in the country
-farmers stabled their live-stock and kept
-ceaseless watch against the hungry.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>All day the approaches to the station were
-besieged by those who hoped for a train; and,
-on the second night of the invasion, Theodore,
-sent by his chief with a message to the military
-transport officer, fought his way through a
-solid crowd on the platform—a crowd excluded
-from a train that was packed and
-struggling with humanity. A crowd that was
-squalid, unreasoning and blindly selfish; intent
-only on flight and safety—and some of it
-brutally intent. There were scuffles with
-porters and soldiers who refused to open locked
-doors, angry hootings and wild swayings
-backward and forward as the train moved out
-of the station; Theodore’s efforts to make his
-way to the station-master’s office were held
-to be indicative of a desire to travel by the
-next train and he was buffeted aside without
-mercy. There was something in the brute
-mass of terror that sickened him—a suggestion
-already of the bestial, the instinctive, the
-unhuman.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>The transport officer looked up at him with
-tired, angry eyes and demanded what the hell
-he wanted?... Whereat Theodore handed
-him a typewritten note from a punctilious
-chief and explained that they had tried to
-get through on the telephone, either to him or
-the station-master, but——</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I should rather think not,” said the transport
-officer rudely. “We’ve both of us got
-more important things to worry about than
-little Distribution people. The telephone
-clerk did bring me some idiotic message or
-other, but I told him I didn’t want to hear it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He glanced at the typewritten note—then
-glared at it—and went off into a cackle of
-laughter; which finally tailed into blasphemy
-coupled with obscene abuse.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Seen this?” he asked when he had sworn
-himself out. “Well, at any rate you know
-what it’s about. The —— has sent for
-particulars of to-morrow’s refugee train service—wants
-to know the number and capacity
-of trains to be dispatched to Newcastle-on-Tyne.
-Wants to enter it in duplicate, I
-suppose—and make lots and lots and lots of
-carbon copies. God in Heaven!”—and
-again he sputtered into blasphemy....
-“Well, I needn’t bother to write down the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>answer; even if you’ve no more sense than he
-has, you’ll be able to remember it all right.
-It’s nil to both questions; nil trains to Newcastle,
-nil capacity. So that’s that!...
-What’s more—if it’s any satisfaction to your
-darned-fool boss to know it—we haven’t been
-sending any trains to Newcastle all day.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“But I thought,” began Theodore—wondering
-if the man were drunk? He was, more
-than slightly—having fought for two days
-with panic-stricken devils and helped himself
-through with much whisky; but, drunk or
-not, he was sure of his facts and rapped them
-out with authority.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Not to Newcastle. The first two or three
-got as far as Darlington—this morning. There
-they were pulled up. Then it was Northallerton—now
-we send ’em off to Thirsk and leave
-the people there to deal with ’em. You bet
-they’ll send ’em further if they can—you don’t
-suppose they want to be eaten out, any more
-than we do. But, for all I know, they’re
-getting ’em in from the other side.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“The other side?” Theodore repeated.
-“What do you mean?” Whereat the transport
-officer, grown suddenly uncommunicative,
-leaned back in his chair and whistled.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“That’s all I can tell you,” he vouchsafed
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>at length. “Trains haven’t run beyond
-Darlington since yesterday. I conclude H.Q.
-knows the reason, but they haven’t imparted
-it to me—I’ve only had my orders. It isn’t
-our business if the trains get stopped so long
-as we send ’em off—and we’re sending ’em and
-asking no questions.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Do you mean,” Theodore stammered,
-“that—this—is going on up north?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“What do you think?” said the transport
-officer. “It’s the usual trick, isn’t it?...
-Start ’em running from two sides at once—don’t
-let ’em settle, send ’em backwards and
-forwards, keep ’em going!... We’ve played
-it often enough on them—now we’re getting a
-bit of our own back.... However, I’ve no
-official information. You know just as much
-as I do.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“But,” Theodore persisted, “the people
-coming through from the north. What do
-they say—they must know?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“There aren’t any people coming through,”
-said the other grimly. “Military order since
-this morning—no passenger traffic from the
-north runs this side of Thirsk. We’ve got
-enough of our own, haven’t we?... All I
-say is—God help Thirsk and especially God
-help the station-master!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>He straightened himself suddenly and
-grabbed at the papers on his table.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Now, you’ve got what the damn fool sent
-you for—and I’m trying to make out my
-report.”</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>As Theodore fought his way out of the station
-and the crowd that seethed round it, he
-had an intolerable sense of being imprisoned
-between two fires. If he could see far enough
-to the north—to Durham and the Tyneside—there
-would be another hot, throbbing horizon
-and another stream of human destitution
-pouring lamentably into the night.... And,
-between the two fires, the two streams were
-meeting—turning back upon themselves, intermingling&nbsp;... in blind and agonized obedience
-to the order to “keep ’em going!”...
-What happened when a train was halted by
-signal and the thronged misery inside it
-learned that here, without forethought or
-provision made, its flight must come to an
-end? At Thirsk, Northallerton, by the wayside,
-anywhere, in darkness?... A thin
-sweep of rain was driving down the street, and
-he fancied wretched voices calling through
-darkness, through rain. Asking what, in
-God’s name, was to become of them and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>where, in God’s name, they were to go?...
-And the overworked officials who could give
-no answer, seeking only to be rid of the
-massed and dreadful helplessness that cumbered
-the ground on which it trod!... Displacement
-of population—the daily, stilted
-phrase—had become to him a raw and livid
-fact and he stood amazed at the limits of his
-own imagination. Day after day he had read
-the phrase, been familiar with it; yet, so far,
-the horror had been words to him. Now the
-daily, stilted phrase was translated, comprehensible:
-“Don’t let ’em settle—keep ’em
-going.”</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Back at the office, he discovered that his
-errand to the station had been superfluous;
-his chief, the man of precedent, order and many
-carbon copies, was staring, haggard and bewildered,
-at a typewritten document signed
-by the military commandant.... And obtaining,
-incidentally, his first glimpse into a
-world till now unthinkable—where precedent
-was not, where reference was useless and order
-had ceased to exist.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>VI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>That night ended Theodore’s life as a clerk
-in the Civil Service. The confusion consequent
-on the breakdown of transport had left
-of the Distribution system but a paralysed
-mockery, a name without functions attached
-to it; and with morning Theodore and his
-able-bodied fellows were impressed into a
-special constabulary, hastily organized as a
-weapon against vagrancy grown desperate
-and riotous. They were armleted, put through
-a hurried course of instruction, furnished with
-revolvers or rifles and told to shoot plunderers
-at sight.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>No system of improvised rationing could
-satisfy even the elementary needs of the
-hundreds of thousands who swept hither and
-thither, as panic seized or the invader drove
-them; hence military authority, in self-preservation,
-turned perforce on the growing
-menace of fugitive and destitute humanity.
-Order, so long as the semblance of it lasted,
-strove to protect and maintain the supplies
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>of the fighting forces; which entailed, inevitably,
-the leaving to the fate of their own
-devices of the famished useless, the horde of
-devouring mouths. Interruption of transport
-meant entire dependence on local food stuffs;
-and, as stocks grew lower and plundering
-increased, provisions were seized by the
-military.... Theodore, in the first hours of
-his new duty, helped to load an armed lorry
-with the contents of a grocer’s shop and fight
-it through the streets of York. There was
-an ugly rush as the driver started his engine;
-men who had been foodless for days had
-watched, in sullen craving, while the shop was
-emptied of its treasure of sacks and tins; and
-when the engine buzzed a child wailed miserably,
-a woman shrieked “Don’t let them,
-don’t let them!” and the whole pack snarled
-and surged forward. Wolfish white faces
-showed at the tailboard and before the car
-drew clear her escort had used their revolvers.
-Theodore, not yet hardened to shooting,
-seized the nearest missile, a tin of meat, and
-hurled it into one of the faces; when they
-drew away three or four of the pack were
-tearing at each other for the treasure contained
-in the tin.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>He noticed, as the days went by, how
-quickly he slipped from the outlook and habits
-of civilized man and adopted those of the
-primitive, even of the animal. It was not
-only that he was suspicious of every man,
-careful in approach, on the alert and ready for
-violence; he learned, like the animal, to be
-indifferent to the suffering that did not concern
-him. Violence, when it did not affect
-him directly, was a noise in the distance—no
-more; and as swiftly as he became inured to
-bloodshed he grew hardened to the sight of
-misery. At first he had sickened when he ate
-his rations at the thought of a million-fold
-suffering that starved while he filled his
-stomach; later, as order’s representative, he
-herded and hustled a massed starvation without
-scruple, driving it away when it grouped
-itself threateningly, shooting when it promised
-to give trouble to authority, and looking upon
-death, itself, indifferently.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It amazed him, looking back, to realize the
-swiftness with which ordered society had
-crumbled; laws, systems, habits of body and
-mind—they had gone, leaving nothing but
-animal fear and the animal need to be fed.
-Within little more than a week of the night
-when young Hewlett had called him to watch
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>the red flashes and the glare in the sky, there
-remained of the fabric of order built up
-through the centuries very little but a military
-force that was fighting on two sides—against
-inward disorder and alien attack—and struggling
-to maintain itself alive. Automatically,
-inevitably—under pressure of starvation, blind
-vagrancy and terror—that which had once
-been a people, an administrative whole, was
-relapsing into a tribal separatism, the last
-barrier against nomadic anarchy.... As
-famished destitution overran the country,
-localities not yet destitute tried systematically
-and desperately to shut out the vagrant and
-defended what was left to them by force.
-Countrymen beat off the human plague that
-devoured their substance and trampled their
-crops underfoot; barriers were erected that
-no stranger might pass and bloody little
-skirmishes were frequent at the outskirts of
-villages. As bread grew scarcer and more
-precious, the penalties on those who stole it
-were increasingly savage; tribal justice—lynch
-law—took the place of petty sessions
-and assize, and plunderers, even suspected
-plunderers, were strung up to trees and their
-bodies left dangling as a warning.... And
-a day or two later, it might be, the poison-fire
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>swept through the fields and devoured the
-homes of those who had executed tribal
-justice; or a horde of destitution, too strong
-to be denied, drove them out; and, homeless
-in their turn, they swelled the tide of plunderers
-and vagrants.... Man, with bewildering
-rapidity, was slipping through the stages
-whereby, through the striving of long generations,
-he had raised himself from primitive
-barbarism and the law that he shares with the
-brute.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Very steadily the process of displacement
-continued. On most nights, in one direction
-or another, there were sudden outbursts of
-light—the glare of explosion or burning buildings
-or the greenish-blue reflection of the
-poison-fire. The silent engine gave no warning
-of its coming, and the first announcement
-of danger was the bursting of gas-shell and
-high explosive, or the sudden vivid pallor of the
-poison-fire as it ran before the wind and swept
-along dry fields and hedgerows. Where it
-swept it left not only long tracts of burned
-crop and black skeleton trees, but, often
-enough, the charred bodies of the homeless
-whom its rush had outpaced and overtaken....
-Sudden and unreasoning panic was frequent—wild
-rushes from imaginary threats—and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>there were many towns which, when their
-turn came, were shells and empty buildings
-only; dead towns, whence the inhabitants
-had already fled in a body. York had been
-standing all but silent for days when an enemy
-swooped down to destroy it and Theodore,
-guarding military stores in a camp on the
-Ripon road, looked his last on the towers of
-the Minster, magnificent against a sea of
-flame. Death, in humanity, had ceased to
-move him greatly; but he turned away his
-head from the death of high human achievement.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>For the first few days of disaster there was a
-certain amount of news, or what passed for
-news, from the outside world; in districts yet
-untouched and not wholly panic-stricken, local
-journals struggled out and communiqués—true
-or false—were published by the military
-authorities. But with the rapid growth of the
-life nomadic, the herding and driving to and
-fro, with the consequent absence of centres
-for the dissemination of news or information,
-the outside world withdrew to a distance and
-veiled itself in silence unbroken. With the
-disappearance of the newspaper there was left
-only rumour, and rumour was always current—sometimes
-hopeful, sometimes dreadful,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>always wild; to-day, Peace was coming, a
-treaty all but signed—and to-morrow London
-was in ruins.... No one knew for certain
-what was happening out of eyeshot, or could
-more than guess how far devastation extended.
-This alone was a certainty; that in every
-direction that a man might turn, he met those
-who were flying from destruction, threatened
-or actual; and that night after night and day
-after day, humanity crouched before the
-science itself had perfected.... Sometimes
-there were visible encounters in the air, contending
-squadrons that chased, manœuvred
-and gave battle; but the invaders, driven off,
-returned again and the process of displacement
-continued. And, with every hour of its
-continuance, the death-roll grew longer, uncounted;
-and men, who had struggled to retain
-a hold on their humanity and the life
-civilized, gave up the struggle, became predatory
-beasts and fought with each other for the
-means to keep life in their bodies.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>In after years Theodore tried vainly to
-remember how long he was quartered in the
-camp on the Ripon road—whether it was
-weeks or a matter of days only. Then or
-later he lost all sense of time, retaining only a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>memory of happenings, of events that followed
-each other and connecting them roughly with
-the seasons—frosty mornings, wet and wind or
-summer heat. There were the nights when
-York flamed and the days when thick smoke
-hung over it; and the morning when aeroplanes
-fought overhead and two crashed
-within a mile of the camp. There was the
-night of pitched battle with a rabble of the
-starving, grown desperate, which rushed the
-guard suddenly out of the darkness and beat
-and hacked at the doors of the sheds which
-contained the hoarded treasure of food.
-Theodore, with every other man in the camp,
-was turned out hastily to do battle with the
-horde of invaders—to shoot into the mass of
-them and drive them back to their starvation.
-In the end the rush was stemmed and the
-camp cleared of the mob; but there was a
-hideous five minutes of shots and knife-thrusts
-and hand-to-hand struggling before the final
-stampede. Even after the stampede the
-menace was not at an end; when the sun
-rose it showed to the watchers in the camp a
-sullen rabble that lingered not a field’s
-breadth distant—a couple of hundred wolfish
-men and women who could not tear themselves
-away from the neighbourhood of food,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>who glared covetously and took hopeless counsel
-together till the order to charge them was
-given and they broke and fled, spitting back
-hatred.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>After that, the night guard was doubled and
-the commanding officer applied in haste for
-reinforcements; barbed wire entanglements
-were stretched round the camp and orders were
-given to disperse any crowd that assembled
-and lingered in the neighbourhood. Behind
-their entanglements and line of sentries the
-little garrison lived as on an island in the
-flood of anarchy and ruin—a remnant of order,
-defending itself against chaos. And, for all
-the discipline with which they faced anarchy
-and the ruthlessness with which they beat
-back chaos, they knew (so often as they dared
-to think) that the time might be at hand—must
-be at hand, if no deliverance came—when
-they, every man of them, would be
-swept from their island to the common fate
-and become as the creatures, scarce human,
-who crawled to them for food and were refused.
-When darkness fell and flames showed
-red on the horizon, they would wonder how
-long before their own turn came—and be
-thankful for the lightening in the east; and as
-each convoy of lorries drove up to remove
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>supplies from their fast dwindling stores, they
-would scan the faces of men who were ignorant
-and helpless as themselves to see if they were
-bearers of good news.... And the news was
-always their own news repeated; of ruin and
-burning, of famine and the threat of the
-famished. No message—save stereotyped
-military orders—from that outside world
-whence alone they could hope for salvation.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There remained with Theodore to the end
-of his days the dreadful memory of the women.
-At the beginning—just at the beginning—of
-disaster, authority had connived at a certain
-amount of charitable diversion of military
-stores for the benefit of women and children;
-but as supplies dwindled and destroying
-hordes of vagrants multiplied, the tacit permission
-was withdrawn. The soldier, the
-instrument of order, unfed was an instrument
-of order no longer; discipline was discipline
-for so long only as it obtained the necessities
-of life, and troops whose rations failed them in
-the end ceased to be troops and swelled the
-flood of vagrant and destitute anarchy. The
-useless mouth was the weapon of the enemy;
-and authority hardened its heart perforce
-against the crying of the useless mouth.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Once a score or so of women, with a tall,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>frantic girl as their leader, stood for hours at
-the edge of the wire entanglement and called
-on the soldiers to shoot—if they would not
-feed them, to shoot. Then, receiving only
-silence as answer, the tall girl cried out that,
-by God, the soldiers should be forced to shoot!
-and led her companions—some cumbered with
-children—to tear and hurl themselves across
-the stretch of barbed and twisted wire. As
-they scrambled over, bleeding, crying and
-their clothes in rags, they were seized by the
-wrists and hustled to the gate of the camp—some
-limp and effortless, others kicking and
-writhing to get free. When the gate was
-closed and barred on them they beat on it—then
-lay about wretchedly&nbsp;... and at last
-shambled wretchedly away....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>More dreadful even than the women who
-dragged with them children they could not
-feed, were those who sought to bribe the
-possessors of food with the remnant of their
-feminine attractions; who eyed themselves
-anxiously in streams, pulled their sodden
-clothes into a semblance of jauntiness and
-made piteous attempts at flirtation. Money
-being worthless, since it could buy neither
-safety nor food, the price for those who traded
-their bodies was paid in a hunk of bread or
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>meat.... Those women suffered most who
-had no man of their own to forage and fend
-for them, and were no longer young enough
-for other men to look on with pleasure. They—as
-humanity fell to sheer wolfishness and
-the right of the strongest—were beaten back
-and thrust aside when it came to the sharing-out
-of spoil.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>He remembered very clearly a day when
-news that was authentic reached them from
-the outside world; an aeroplane came down
-with engine-trouble in a field on the edge of
-the camp, and the haggard-faced pilot, beset
-with breathless questions, laughed roughly
-when they asked him of London—how lately
-he had been there, what was happening?
-“Oh yes, I was over it a day or two ago.
-You’re no worse off than they are down south—London’s
-been on the run for days.” He
-turned back to his engine and whistled tunelessly
-through the silence that had fallen on
-his hearers.... Theodore said it over slowly
-to himself, “London’s been on the run for
-days.” If so—if so—then what, in God’s
-name, of Phillida?</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Hitherto he had fought back his dread for
-Phillida, denying to himself, as he denied to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>others, the rumour that disaster was widespread
-and general, and insisting that she, at
-least, was safe. If there was one thing intolerable,
-one thing that could not be, it was
-Phillida vagrant, Phillida starving—his dainty
-lady bedraggled and grovelling for her bread....
-like the haggard women who had beaten
-with their hands on the gate....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It must stop,” he choked suddenly, “it
-must stop—it can’t go on!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The pilot broke off from his whistling to
-stare at the distorted face.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No,” he said grimly, “it can’t go on.
-What’s more, it’s stopping, by degrees—stopping
-itself; you mayn’t have noticed it
-yet, but we do. Taking ’em all round they’re
-leaving off, not coming as thick as they did.
-And”—his mouth twisted ironically—“we’re
-leaving off and for the same reason.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“The same reason?” someone echoed him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Because we can’t go on.... You don’t
-expect us to carry on long in this, do you?”
-He shrugged and jerked his head towards a
-smoke cloud on the western skyline. “That’s
-what ran us—gone up in smoke. Food and
-factories and transport and Lord knows what
-beside. The things that ran us and kept us
-going&nbsp;... We’re living on our own fat now—what
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>there is of it—and so are the people on
-the other side. We can just keep going as
-long as it lasts; but it’s getting precious short
-now, and when we’ve finished it—when there’s
-no fat left!...” He laughed unpleasantly
-and stared at the rolling smoke cloud.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Someone else asked him about the rumour
-ever-current of negotiation—whether there
-was truth in it, whether he had heard anything?</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Much what you’ve heard,” he said, and
-shrugged his shoulders. “There’s talk—there
-always is—plenty of it; but I don’t suppose
-I know any more than you do.... It stands
-to reason that someone must be trying to put
-an end to it—but who’s trying to patch it up
-with who?... And what is there left to
-patch? Lord knows! They say the real
-trouble is that when governments have gone
-there’s no one to negotiate with. No responsible
-authority—sometimes no authority at
-all. Nothing to get hold of. You can’t make
-terms with rabble; you can’t even find out
-what it wants—and it’s rabble now, here,
-there, and everywhere. When there’s nothing
-else left, how do you get hold of it, treat with
-it? Who makes terms, who signs, who orders?...
-Meanwhile, we go on till we’re told to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>stop—those of us that are left.... And I
-suppose they’re doing much the same—keeping
-on because they don’t know how to
-stop.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore asked what he meant when he
-spoke of “no government.” “You can’t
-mean it literally? You can’t mean...?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Why not?” said the pilot. “Is there
-any here?”—and jerked his head, this time
-towards the road. Its long white ribbon was
-spotted with groups and single figures of
-vagrants—scarecrow vagrants—crawling onward
-they knew not whither.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“See that,” he said, “see that—does anyone
-govern it? Make rules for it, defend it,
-keep it alive?... And that’s everywhere.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Someone whispered back “Everywhere”
-under his breath; the rest stared in silence
-at the spotted white ribbon of road.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You can’t mean...?” said Theodore
-again.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The airman shrugged his shoulders and
-laughed roughly.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I believe,” he said, “there are still some
-wretched people who call themselves a government,
-try to be a government—at least, there
-were the other day.... Sometimes I wonder
-<i>how</i> they try, what they say to each other—poor
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>devils! How they look when the heads
-of what used to be departments bring them in
-the day’s report? Can’t you imagine their
-silly, ghastly faces?... Even if they’re still
-in existence, what in God’s name can they do—except
-let us go on killing each other in the
-hope that something may turn up. If they
-give orders, sign papers, make laws, does anyone
-listen, pay any attention? Does it make
-any difference to <i>that</i>?” Again he jerked his
-head towards the road, and in the word as in
-the gesture was loathing, fear and contempt.
-“And in other parts of what used to be the
-civilized world—where this sort of hell has
-been going on longer—what do you suppose
-is happening?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>No one answered; he laughed again roughly,
-as if he were contemptuous of their hopes,
-and a man beside Theodore—a corporal—swung
-round on him, white-faced and snarling.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Damn you!... I’ve got a girl.... I’ve
-got a girl!...”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He choked, moved away and stood rigid,
-staring at the road.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore heard himself asking, “If there
-isn’t any government—what is there?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“What’s left of the army,” said the other,
-“that’s all that hangs together. Bits of it,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>here and there—getting smaller, losing touch
-with the other bits; hanging on to its rations—what’s
-left of ’em.... And we hold
-together just as long as we can fight back the
-rabble; not an hour, not a minute longer!
-When we’ve gnawed our way through the
-last of our rations—what then?... You
-may do what you like, but I’m keeping a shot
-for myself. Whether we’re through with it or
-whether we’re not. Just stopping fighting
-won’t clear up this mess.... And I’ll die—what
-I am. Not rabble!”</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Whether after days or whether after weeks,
-there came a time when they ceased to have
-dealings with the world beyond their wire
-defences; when the store-sheds in the camp
-were all but emptied of their hoard of foodstuffs
-and such military authority as might
-still exist took no further interest in the doings
-of a useless garrison. Orders and communications,
-once frequent, grew fewer, and finally,
-as military authority crumbled, they were left
-to isolation, to their own defence and devices.
-Since no man any longer had need of them,
-they were cut off from intercourse with those
-other remnants of the life disciplined whence
-lorries had once arrived in search of rations;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>separated from such other bands of their fellows
-as still held together, they were no longer
-part of an army, were nothing but a band of
-armed men. Though their own daily rations
-were cut down to the barest necessities of life,
-there was little grumbling, since even the
-dullest knew the reason; as the airman had
-told them, they were living on their own fat,
-for so long as their own fat lasted. For all
-their isolation, their fears and daily perils
-kept them disciplined; they held together,
-obeyed orders and kept watch, not because
-they still felt themselves part of a nation or a
-military force, but because there remained in
-their common keeping the means to support
-bare life. It was not loyalty or patriotism, but
-the sense of their common danger, their common
-need of defence against the famished
-world outside their camp, that kept them
-comrades, obedient to a measure of discipline,
-and made them still a community.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There had been altercation of the fiercest
-before they were left to themselves—when
-lorries drove up for food which was refused
-them, on the ground that the camp had not
-sufficient for its own needs. Disputes at the
-refusal were furious and violent; men, driven
-out forcibly, went off shouting threats that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>they would come back and take what was
-denied them—would bring their machine-guns
-and take it. Those who yet had the wherewithal
-to keep life in their bodies knew the
-necessity that prompted the threat and lived
-thenceforth in a state of siege against men who
-had once been their comrades. With the
-giving out of military supplies and the consequent
-breaking of the bonds of discipline,
-bands of soldiers, scouring the countryside,
-were an added terror to their fellow-vagrants
-and, so long as their ammunition lasted, fared
-better than starvation unarmed.... If central
-authority existed it gave no sign; while
-military force that had once been united—an
-army—dissolved into its primitive elements:
-tribes of armed men, held together by their
-fear of a common enemy. In the wreck of
-civilization, of its systems, institutions and
-polity, there endured longest that form of
-order which had first evolved from the chaos
-of barbarism—the disciplined strength of the
-soldier.... A people retracing its progress
-from chaos retraced it step by step.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>VII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>The end of civilization came to Theodore
-Savage and his fellows as it had come to
-uncounted thousands.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There had been a still warm day with a haze
-on it—he judged it early autumn or perhaps
-late summer; for the rest, like any other day
-in the camp routine—of watchfulness, of
-scanning the sky and the distance, of the passing
-of vagabond starvation, of an evil smell
-drifting with the lazy air from the dead who
-lay unburied where they fell. Before nightfall
-the haze was lifted by a cold little wind
-from the east; and soon after darkness a
-moon at the full cast white, merciless light and
-black shadow.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore was asleep when the alarm was
-given—by a shout at the door of his hut.
-One of ten or a dozen, aroused like himself, he
-grabbed at his rifle as he stumbled to his feet;
-believing in the first hurried moment of waking
-that he was called to drive back yet another
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>night onslaught of the starving enemy without.
-He ran out of the hut into a strong,
-pallid glare that wavered.... A stretch of
-gorse and bramble-patch two hundred yards
-away was alight, burning lividly, and further
-off the same bluish flame was running like a
-wave across a field. Enemy aeroplanes were
-dropping their fire-bombs—here and there,
-flash on flash, of pale, inextinguishable flame.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was scarcely five minutes from the time
-he had been roused before the camp and its
-garrison had ceased to exist as a community,
-and Theodore Savage and his living comrades
-were vagabonds on the face of the earth. The
-gorse and bramble-patch lay to the eastward
-and the wind was blowing from the east; the
-flames rushed triumphantly at a black clump
-of fir trees—great torches that lit up the
-neighbourhood. The guiding hand in the
-terror overhead had a mark laid ready for his
-aim; the camp, with its camouflaged huts and
-sheds, seen plainly as in broadest daylight.
-His next bomb burst in the middle of the camp
-blowing half-a-score of soldiers into bloody
-fragments and firing the nearest wooden
-building. While it burned, the terror overhead
-struck again and again—then stooped to its
-helpless quarry and turned a machine-gun
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>on men in trenches and men running hither
-and thither in search of a darkness that might
-cover them.... That, for Theodore Savage,
-was the ending of civilization.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With the crash of the first explosion he
-cowered instinctively and pressed himself
-against the wall of the nearest shed; the
-flames, rushing upward, showed him others
-cowering like himself, all striving to obliterate
-themselves, to shrink, to deny their humanity.
-Even in his extremity of bodily fear he was
-conscious of merciless humiliation; the machine-gun
-crackled at scurrying little creatures
-that once were men and that now were
-but impotent flesh at the mercy of mechanical
-perfection.... Mechanical perfection, the
-work of men’s hands, soared over its creators,
-spat down at their helplessness and defaced
-them; they cringed in corners till it found
-them out and ran from it screaming, without
-power to strike back at the invisible beast that
-pursued them. Without power even to surrender
-and yield to its mercy; they could only
-hate impotently—and run....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As they ran they broke instinctively—avoiding
-each other, since a group made a
-mark for a gunner. Theodore, when he dared
-cower no longer, rushed with a dozen through
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>the gate of the camp but, once outside it, they
-scattered right and left and there was no one
-near him when his flight ended with a stumble.
-He stayed where he had fallen, a good mile
-from the camp, in the blessed shadow of a
-hedgerow; he crept close to it and lay in the
-blackness of the shadow, breathing great sobs
-and trembling—crouching in dank grass and
-peering through the leafage at the distant
-furnace he had fled from. The crackling of
-machine-guns had ceased, but here and there,
-for miles around were stretches of flame
-running rapidly before a dry wind. Half a
-mile away an orchard was blazing with hayricks;
-and he drew a long sigh of relief when
-another flare leaped up—further off. That
-was miles away, that last one; they were
-going, thank God they were going!... He
-waited to make sure—half an hour or more—then
-stumbled back in search of his companions;
-through fields on to the road that
-led past what once had been the camp.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>On his way he met others, dark figures
-creeping back like himself; by degrees a
-score or so gathered in the roadway and stood
-in little groups, some muttering, some silent,
-as they watched the flames burn themselves
-out. There were bodies lying in the road and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>beside it—men shot from above as they ran;
-and the living turned them over to look at
-their distorted faces.... No one was in
-authority; their commanding officer had
-been killed outright by the bursting of the
-first bomb, one of the subalterns lay huddled
-in the roadway, just breathing. So much
-they knew.... In the beginning there was
-relief that they had come through alive; but,
-with the passing of the first instinct of relief,
-came understanding of the meaning of being
-alive.... The breath in their bodies, the
-knowledge that they still walked the earth:
-and for the rest, vagrancy and beast-right—the
-right of the strongest to live!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>They took counsel together as the night crept
-over them and—because there was nothing
-else to do—planned to search the charred
-ruin as the fire died out, in the hope of salvage
-from the camp. They counted such few, odd
-possessions as remained to them: cartridge
-belts, rifles thrown away in flight and then
-picked up in the road, the contents of their
-pockets—no more.... In the end, for the
-most part, they slept the dead sleep of exhaustion
-till morning—to wake with cold rain
-on their faces.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The rain, for all its wretchedness to men
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>without shelter, was so far their friend that
-it beat down the flames on the smouldering
-timbers which were all that remained of their
-fortress and rock of defence. They burrowed
-feverishly among the black wreckage of their
-store-sheds, blistering and burning their fingers
-by too eager handling of logs that still flickered,
-unearthing, now and then, some scrap of
-charred meat but, for the most part, nothing
-but lumps of molten metal that had once been
-the tins containing food. In their pressing
-anxiety to avert the peril of hunger they were
-heedless of a peril yet greater; their search
-had attracted the attention of others—scarecrow
-vagrants, the rabble of the roads, who
-saw them from a distance and came hurrying
-in the hope of treasure-trove. The first single
-spies retreated at the order of superior and
-disciplined numbers; but with time their own
-numbers were swollen by those who halted
-at the rumour of food, and there hovered
-round the searchers a shifting, snarling, envious
-crowd that drew gradually nearer till faced
-with the threat of pointed rifles. Even that
-only stayed it for a little—and, spurred on by
-hunger, imagining riches where none existed,
-it rushed suddenly forward in a mob that
-might not be held.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>Those who had rifles fired at it and men in
-the foremost ranks went down, unheeded in
-the rush of their fellows; those who might
-have hesitated were thrust forward by the
-frantic need behind, and the torrent of misery
-broke against the little group of soldiers in a
-tumult of grappling and screeching. Women,
-like men, asserted their beast-right to food—when
-sticks and knives failed them, asserted
-it with claws and teeth; unhuman creatures,
-with eyes distended and wide, yelling mouths,
-went down with their fingers at each other’s
-throats, their nails in each other’s flesh....
-Theodore clubbed a length of burnt wood
-and struck out&nbsp;... saw a man drop with a
-broken, bloody face and a woman back from
-him shrieking&nbsp;... then was gripped from
-behind, with an arm round his neck, and went
-down.... The famished creatures fought
-above his body and beat out his senses with
-their feet.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>When life came back to him the sun was
-very low in the west. In his head little
-hammers beat intolerably and all his strained
-body ached with bruises as he raised himself,
-slowly and groaning, and leaned on an arm to
-look round. He lay much where he had
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>fallen, but the soldiers, the crowd of human
-beasts, had vanished; the bare stretch of
-camp, still smoking in places, was silent and
-almost deserted. Two or three bending and
-intent figures were hovering round the charred
-masses of wreckage—moving slowly, stopping
-often, peering as they walked and thrusting
-their hands into the ashes, in the hope of some
-fragment that those who searched before them
-had missed. A woman lay face downwards
-with her dead arm flung across his feet; further
-off were other bodies—which the searchers
-passed without notice. Three or four were
-in uniform, the bodies of men who had once
-been his comrades; others, for the benefit of
-the living, had been stripped, or half-stripped,
-of their clothing.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He lifted himself painfully and crawled on
-hands and knees, with many groans and halts,
-to the stream that had formed one border of
-the camp—where he drank, bathed his head
-and washed the dried blood from his scratches.
-With a measure of physical relief—the blessing
-of cool water to a burning head and throat—came
-a clearer understanding and, with clearer
-understanding, fear.... He knew himself
-alone in chaos.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As soon as he might he limped back to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>the smouldering wood-heaps and accosted a
-woman who was grubbing in a mess of black
-refuse. Did she know what had become of the
-soldiers? Which way they had gone when
-they left? The woman eyed him sullenly,
-mistrustful and resenting his neighbourhood—knew
-nothing, had not seen any soldiers—and
-turned again to grub in her refuse. A skeleton
-of a man was no wiser; had only just
-turned off the road to search, did not know
-what had happened except that there must
-have been a fight—but it was all over when he
-came up. He also had seen no soldiers—only
-the dead ones over there.... Theodore
-saw in their eyes that they feared him, were
-dreading lest he should compete with them
-for their possible treasure of refuse.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>For the time being a sickly faintness deprived
-him of all wish for food; he left the
-sullen creatures to their clawing and grubbing,
-went back to the water, drank and soused once
-more, then crept farther off in search of a
-softer ground to lie on. After a few score
-yards of painful dragging and halting, he
-stretched himself exhausted on a strip of dank
-grass at the roadside—and dozed where he fell
-until the morning.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With sunrise and awakening came the pangs
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>of sharp hunger, and he dragged himself
-limping through mile after mile in search of
-the wherewithal to stay them. He was giddy
-with weakness and near to falling when he
-found his first meal in a stretch of newly-burned
-field—the body of a rabbit that the
-fire had blackened as it passed. He fell upon
-it, hacked it with his clasp-knife and ate half
-of it savagely, looking over his shoulder to see
-that no one watched him; the other half he
-thrust into his pocket to serve him for another
-meal. He had learned already to live furtively
-and hide what he possessed from the
-neighbours who were also his enemies. Next
-day he fished furtively—with a hook improvised
-out of twisted wire and worm-bait dug
-up by his clasp-knife; lurking in bushes on
-the river-bank, lest others, passing by, should
-note him and take toll by force of his catch.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>He lived thenceforth as men have always
-lived when terror drives them this way and
-that, and the earth, untended, has ceased to
-yield her bounties; warring with his fellows
-and striving to outwit them for the remnant of
-bounty that was left. He hunted and scraped
-for his food like a homeless dog; when found,
-he carried it apart in stealth and bolted it
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>secretly, after the fashion of a dog with his
-offal. In time all his mental values changed
-and were distorted: he saw enemies in all
-men, existed only to exist—that he might fill
-his stomach—and death affected him only
-when he feared it for himself. He had grown
-to be self-centred, confined to his body and its
-daily wants and that side of his nature which
-concerned itself with the future and the needs
-of others was atrophied. He had lost the
-power of interest in all that was not personal,
-material and immediate; and, as the uncounted
-days dragged out into weeks, even
-the thought of Phillida, once an ever-present
-agony, ceased to enter much into his daily
-struggle to survive. He starved and was
-afraid: that was all. His life was summed
-up in the two words, starvation and fear.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>At night, as a rule, he sheltered in a house
-or deserted farm-building that stood free for
-anyone to enter—sometimes alone, but as
-often as not in company. Starved rabble, as
-long as it hunted for food, avoided its rivals
-in the chase; but when night, perforce,
-brought cessation of the hunt, the herding
-instinct reasserted itself and lasted through
-the hours of darkness. As autumn sharpened,
-guarded fires were lit in cellars where they
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>could not be seen from above and fed with
-broken furniture, with fragments of doors and
-palings; and one by one, human beasts would
-slink in and huddle down to the warmth—some
-uncertainly, seeking a new and untried
-refuge, and others returning to their shelter
-of the night before. The little gangs who
-shared fire and roof for the space of a night
-never ate in each other’s company; food was
-invariably devoured apart, and those who had
-possessed themselves of more than an immediate
-supply would hide and even bury it in a
-secret place before they came in contact with
-their fellows. Hence no gang, no little herd,
-was permanent or contained within itself
-the beginnings of a social system; its members
-shared nothing but the hours of a night
-and performed no common social duties. A
-face became familiar because seen for a night
-or two in the glow of a common fire; when it
-vanished none knew—and none troubled to
-ask—whether a man had died between sunrise
-and sunset or whether he had drifted further
-off in his daily search for the means to keep
-life in his body. When a man died in the
-night, with others round him, the manner of
-his ending was known; otherwise he passed
-out of life without notice from those who yet
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>crawled on the earth.... With morning the
-herd of starvelings that had sheltered together
-broke up and foraged, each man for himself
-and his own cravings; rooted in fields and
-trampled gardens, crouched on river-banks
-fishing, laid traps for vermin, ransacked
-shops and houses where scores had preceded
-them.... And some, it was muttered—as
-time went on and the need grew yet starker—fed
-horribly&nbsp;... and therefore plentifully....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There were nights—many nights—when a
-herd broke in panic from its shelter and
-scattered to the winds of heaven at an alarm
-of the terror overhead; and always, as starvation
-pressed, it dwindled—by death and the
-tendency to dissolve into single nomads,
-who (such as survived) regrouped themselves
-elsewhere, to scatter and re-group again....
-With repeated wandering—now this way, now
-that, as hope and hunger prompted—went
-all sense of direction and environment; the
-nomads, hunting always, drifted into broken
-streets or dead villages and through them to
-the waste of open country—not knowing
-where they were, in the end not caring, and
-turned back by a river or the sea.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The sight or suspicion of food and plunder
-would always draw vagrancy together in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>crowds; district after district untouched by
-an enemy had been swept out of civilized
-existence by the hordes which fell on the
-remnants of prosperity and tore them; which
-ransacked shops and dwellings, slaughtered
-sheep, horses, cattle and devoured them and,
-often enough, in a fury of destruction and
-vehement envy, set light to houses and barns
-lest others might fare better than themselves.
-But when flocks, herds and storehouses had
-vanished, when agriculture, like the industry
-of cities, had ceased to exist and nothing
-remained to devour and plunder, the motive
-for common action passed. With equality
-of wretchedness union was impossible, and
-every man’s hand against his neighbour; if
-groups formed, here and there, of the stronger
-and more brutal, who joined forces for common
-action, they held together only for so long as
-their neighbours had possessions that could
-be wrested from them—stores of food or
-desirable women; once the neighbours were
-stripped of their all and there was nothing
-more to prey on, the group fell apart or its
-members turned on each other. In the life
-predatory man had ceased to be creative; in a
-world where no one could count on a morrow,
-construction and forethought had no meaning.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>VIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>In a world where all were vagabond and
-brutal, where each met each with suspicion
-and all men were immersed in the intensity of
-their bodily needs, very few had thoughts to
-exchange. Mentally, as well as actually, they
-lived to themselves and where they did not
-distrust they were indifferent; the starvelings
-who slunk into shelter that they might huddle
-for the night round a common fire found little
-to say to one another. As human desire
-concentrated itself on the satisfaction of
-animal cravings, so human speech degenerated
-into mere expression of those cravings and the
-emotions aroused by them. Only once or
-twice while he starved and drifted did Theodore
-talk with men who sought to give expression
-to more than their present terrors and the
-immediate needs of their bodies, who used
-speech that was the vehicle of thought.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>One such he remembered—met haphazard,
-as all men met each other—when he sheltered
-for an autumn night on the outskirts of a town
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>left derelict. With falling dusk came a sudden
-sharp patter of rain and he took refuge
-hurriedly in the nearest house—a red-brick
-villa, standing silent with gaping windows.
-What was left of the door swung loosely on its
-hinges—half the lower panels had been hacked
-away to serve as firewood; the hall was
-befouled with the feet of many searchers and
-of the furniture remained but a litter of rags
-and fragments that could not be burned.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He thought the place empty till he scented
-smoke from the basement; whereupon he
-crept down the stairs, soft-footed and alert,
-to discover that precaution was needless.
-There was only one occupant of the house, a
-man plainly dying; a livid hollow-eyed skeleton
-who coughed and trembled as he knelt by
-the grate and tried to blow damp sticks into a
-flame. Theodore, in his own interests, took
-charge of the fire, ransacked the house for
-inflammable material and tore up strips of
-broken boarding that the other was too feeble
-to wrestle with. When the blaze flared up, the
-sick man cowered to it, stretched out his hands—filthy
-skin-covered bones—and thanked him;
-whereat Theodore turned suddenly and stared.
-It was long—how long?—since any man had
-troubled to thank him; and this man, for all
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>his verminous misery, had a voice that was
-educated, cultured.... Something in the
-tone of it—the manner—took Theodore back
-to the world where men ate courteously
-together, were companions, considered each
-other; and instinctively, almost without
-effort, he offered a share of his foraging. The
-offer was refused, whereat Theodore wondered
-still more; but the man, near death, was past
-desire for food and shook his head almost with
-repulsion. Perhaps it was the fever that had
-turned him against food that loosened his
-tongue and set him talking—or perhaps he,
-also, by another’s voice and manner, was reminded
-of his past humanity.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“‘My mind to me a kingdom is,’” he
-quoted suddenly. “Who wrote that—do you
-remember?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No,” Theodore said, “I’ve forgotten.”
-He stared at the cowering, hunched figure with
-its shaking hands stretched to the blaze.
-The man, it might be, was mad as well as
-dying—he had met many such in his wanderings;
-babbling of verse as someone—who was
-it?—had babbled in dying of green fields.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“‘My mind to me a kingdom is,’” the sick
-man repeated. “Well, even if we’ve forgotten
-who wrote it, there’s one thing about him
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>that’s certain; he didn’t know what we know—hadn’t
-lived in our kind of hell. The place
-where you haven’t a mind—only fear and a
-stomach.... The flesh and the devil—hunger
-and fear; they haven’t left us a
-world!... But if there’s ever a world again,
-I believe I shall have learned how to write.
-Now I know what we are—the fundamentals
-and the nakedness....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Were you a writer?” Theodore asked
-him—and at the question his old humanity
-stirred curiously within him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes,” said the other, “I was a writer....
-When I think of what I wrote—the little,
-little things that seemed important!... I
-spent a year once—a whole good year—on a
-book about a woman who was finding out she
-didn’t love her husband. She was well fed
-and housed, lived comfortably—and I wrote of
-her as if she were a tragedy. The work I put
-into it—the work and the thought! I tried to
-get what I called atmosphere.... And all
-the time there was this in us—this raw, red
-thing—and I never even touched it, never
-guessed what we were without our habits....
-Do you know where we made the mistake?”—he
-turned suddenly to Theodore, thrusting
-out a finger—“We were not civilized—it was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>only our habits that were civilized; but we
-thought they were flesh of our flesh and bone
-of our bone. Underneath, the beast in us was
-always there—lying in wait till his time came.
-The beast that is ourselves, that is flesh of our
-flesh—clothed in habits, in rags that have been
-torn from us.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He broke off to cough horribly and lay
-breathless and exhausted for a time; then,
-when breath came back to him, talked on
-while Theodore listened—not so much to his
-words as to a voice from the world that had
-passed.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“The religions were right,” he said. “They
-were right through and through; the only
-sane thing and the only safe thing is humility—to
-realize your sin, to confess it and repent....
-We—we were bestial and we did not
-know it; and when you don’t even suspect
-you sin how can you repent and save your soul
-alive?... We dressed ourselves and taught
-ourselves the little politenesses and ceremonies
-which made it easy to forget that we were
-brutes in our hearts; we never faced our own
-possibilities of evil and beastliness, never
-confessed and repented them, took no precautions
-against them. Our limitless possibilities....
-We thought our habits—we called
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>them virtues—were as real and natural and
-ingrained as our instincts; and now what is
-left of our habits? When we should have
-been crying, ‘Lord have mercy on us,’ we
-believed in ourselves, our enlightenment and
-progress. Enlightenment that ended as
-science applied to destruction and progress
-that has led us—to this.... And to-day it
-has gone, every shred of it, and we’re back at
-what we started with—hunger and lust!
-Brute instincts&nbsp;... and the primitive passion,
-hatred—against those who thwart hunger and
-lust. Nothing else—how can there be anything
-else? When we lost all we loved, we lost
-the habit and power of loving.... ‘My
-mind to me a kingdom is’—of hatred and
-hunger and lust.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes,” said Theodore—and he, too, stared
-at the fire.... What the other had said was
-truth and truth only. Even Phillida had left
-him; the power of loving her was gone. “I
-hadn’t thought of it like that—but it’s right....
-We can only hate.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It’s that,” said the dying man, “that’s
-beyond all torment.... God pity us!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He covered his eyes and sat silent until
-Theodore asked him, “Does that mean you
-still believe in God?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>“There’s Law,” said the other. “Is that
-God?... We have got to see into our own
-souls and to pay for everything we take.
-That’s all I know, so far—except that what we
-think we own—owns us. That’s what the
-wise men meant by renunciation.... It’s
-what we made and thought we owned that has
-turned on us—the creatures that were born
-for our pleasure and power, to increase our
-comfort and our riches. As we made them
-they fastened on us—set their claws in us—and
-they have taken our minds from us as well
-as our bodies. As we made them, they followed
-the law of their life. We created life
-without a soul; but it was life and it went
-its own way.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Crouched to the fire, and between his bouts
-of coughing, he played with the idea and insisted
-on it. Everything that we made, that
-we thought dead and dumb, had a life that we
-could not control. In the case of books and
-art we admitted the fact, had a name for the
-life, called it influence: influence a form of
-independent existence.... In the same way
-we took metals and welded them, made
-machines; which were beasts, potent beasts,
-whose destiny was the same as our own. To
-live and develop and, developing, to turn on
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>the power that enslaved them.... That was
-what had happened; they had made themselves
-necessary, fastened on us and, grown
-strong enough, had turned on their masters
-and killed—even though they died in the
-killing. The revolt against servitude had
-always been accounted a virtue in men and
-the law of all life was the same. The beasts
-we had made could not live without us, but
-they would have their revenge before they
-died.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Think of us,” he said, “how we run and
-squeal and hide from them!... The patient
-servants, our goods and chattels, who were
-brought into life for our pleasure—they chase
-us while we run and squeal and hide!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes,” Theodore answered, “I’ve felt that,
-too—the humiliation.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“The humiliation,” the sick man nodded.
-“Always in the end the slave rules his master—it’s
-the price paid for servitude, possession.
-I tell you, they were wise men who preached
-renunciation—before what we own takes hold
-of us and possession turns to servitude. For
-there’s a law of average in all things—have
-you ever felt it as I have? A law of balance
-which we never strike aright.... When the
-mighty tread hard enough on the humble and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>meek, the humble and meek are exalted and
-begin to tread hard in their turn. That’s
-obvious and we’ve generally known it; but
-it’s the same in what we call material things.
-We rise into the air—make machines that can
-fly—and grovel underground to protect ourselves
-from the flying-man. As we struck the
-balance to the one side, so it has to swing back
-on the other; a few men rise high into the
-air and many creep down into trenches and
-cellars, crouch flat.... If we could work out
-the numbers and heights mathematically, be
-sure that we should strike the perfect balance—represented
-by the surface of the earth.
-Balance—in all things balance.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He rambled on, perhaps half-delirious,
-coughing out his thoughts and theories concerning
-a world he was leaving.... In all
-things balance, inevitably; the purpose of life
-which, so far, we sought blindly—by passion
-and recoil from it, by excess and consequent
-exhaustion.... It was in the cities where
-men herded, where life swarmed, that death
-had come most thickly, that desolation was
-swiftest and most complete. The ground
-underneath them needed rest from men;
-there was an average of life it could support
-and bear with. Now, the average exceeded, the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>cities lay ruined, were silent, knew the peace
-they had craved for—while those who once
-swarmed in them avoided them in fear or
-scattered themselves in the open country,
-finding no sustenance in brickwork, stone or
-paved street.... With the machine and its
-consequence, the industrial system, population
-had increased beyond the average allotted to
-the race; now the balance was righting itself
-by a very massacre of famine—induced by the
-self-same process of invention which had
-fostered reproduction unhindered. Because
-millions too many had crawled upon earth,
-long stretches of earth must lie waste and
-desolate till the average had worked itself
-out.... The art of life was adjustment of the
-balance in all things—was action and reaction
-rightly applied, was provision of counterweight,
-discovery of the destined mean. Was
-control of Truth, lest it turn into a lie; was
-check upon the power and velocity of Good
-ere it swung to immeasurable Evil....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The fire, for want of more wood to pile on
-it, had died low, to a flicker in the ashes, and
-the two men sat almost in darkness; the one,
-between the bouts that shook him, whispering
-out the tenets of his Law; the other, now
-listening, now staring back into the world
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>that once was—and ever should be.... He
-was with Markham, listening to the Westminster
-chimes—(on the crest of the centuries,
-Markham had said)—when there were sudden
-yelping screams outside and a patter of feet
-on the road. The human rats who had crept
-into the town for shelter from the night were
-bolting in panic from their holes.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“They’re running,” said the dying man
-and felt towards the stairs. “It’s gas—it
-must be gas! Oh God, where’s the door—where’s
-the door?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As they groped and stumbled through the
-door and up the stairway, he was clutching at
-Theodore’s arm and gasping in an ecstasy of
-terror; as fearful of losing his few poor hours
-of life as if they had been years of health and
-usefulness. In the open air was darkness with
-figures flying dimly by; a thin stream of
-panic that raced against death by suffocation.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The man with death on him held to Theodore’s
-arm and besought him, for Christ’s sake,
-not to leave him—he could run if he were only
-helped! Theodore let him cling for a dragging
-pace or two; then, looking behind him,
-saw a woman reel, clawing the air.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He wrenched himself free and ran on till he
-could run no further.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>IX</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>It was somewhere towards the end of autumn
-that Theodore Savage realized that the war
-had come to an end—so far, at least, as his
-immediate England was concerned. What
-was happening elsewhere he and his immediate
-England had no means of knowing and were
-long past caring to know. There was no
-definite ending but a leaving-off, a slackening;
-the attacks—the burnings and panics—by
-degrees were fewer and not only fewer but less
-devastating, because carried out with smaller
-forces; there were days and nights without
-alarm, without smoke cloud or glow on the
-horizon. Then yet longer intervals—and so
-on to complete cessation.... By the time
-the nights had grown long and frosty the war
-that was organized and alien had ended; there
-remained only the daily, personal and barbaric
-form of war wherein every man’s hand was
-raised against his neighbour and enemy.
-That warfare ceased not and could not cease—until
-the human herd had reduced itself to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>the point at which the bare earth could support
-it.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It seemed to him later a wonder—almost a
-miracle—that he had come alive through the
-months of war and after; at times he stood
-amazed that any had lived in the waste of
-hunger and violence, of pestilence and rotting
-bodies which for months was the world as he
-knew it. He was near death not once nor a
-score of times, but daily; death from exhaustion
-or the envy of men who were starved and
-reckless as himself. The mockery of peace
-brought no plenty or hope of it, no sign of
-reconstruction or dawn of new order; reconstruction
-and order were rank impossibilities
-so long as human creatures preyed on each
-other in a land swept bare, and prowled after
-the manner of wolves. No revival of common
-life, no system was possible until earth once
-more brought forth her fruits.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He judged, by the length of the nights, that
-it was somewhere about the middle of November
-when the first snow came suddenly and
-thickly; the harbinger and onslaught of a
-fiercely hard winter that killed in their thousands
-the gaunt human beasts who tore at each
-other for the refuse and vermin that was food.
-In the all-pervading dearth and starvation
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>there was only one form of animal life that
-increased and flourished mightily; the rat
-overran empty buildings, found dreadful
-sustenance in street and field and, in turn, was
-hunted, trapped and fed on.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With the coming of winter the human remnant
-was perforce less vagrant and migratory,
-and Theodore, driven by weather to shelter,
-lived for weeks in what once had been a country
-town, a cluster of dead houses with, here
-and there, a silent factory. Only the buildings,
-the semblance of a township, remained;
-the befouled and neglected body whence the
-life of a community had fled; and he never
-knew what its living name had been or what
-was the manner of industry or commerce
-whereby it had supported its inhabitants.
-It lay in a flattish agricultural country and a
-railway had run through its outskirts; the
-rusted metals stretched north and south
-and the remnants of a station still existed—platforms,
-charred buildings and trucks and
-locomotives in sidings. Perhaps the charred
-buildings had been burned in a fury of drunken
-and insane destruction, perhaps shivering
-destitution had set light to them for the sake
-of a few hours’ warmth.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The shell of the town—its brickwork and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>stone—was still practically intact; it was
-anarchy, pillage and starvation, not the
-violence of an enemy, that had reduced it to
-a city of the dead. The means of supporting
-life were absent, but certain forms of what
-had once been luxury remained and were
-counted as nothing. At a corner of the main
-street stood a jeweller’s premises which, time
-and again, had been entered and ransacked;
-the dwelling-house behind it contained not so
-much as a fragment of dried crust but in the
-shop itself rings, brooches and pendants were
-still lying for any man to take—disordered,
-scattered and trampled underfoot, because
-worthless to those who craved for bread.
-The only item of jeweller’s stock that still
-had value to starving men was a watch—if it
-furnished a burning-glass, a means of lighting
-a fire when other means were unavailable.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore lived through the winter—as all
-his fellows lived—destructively, on the legacy
-and remnant of other men’s savings and
-makings; scraping and grubbing in other
-men’s ground, burning furniture and woodwork,
-the product of other men’s labours, and
-taking no thought for the morrow. At the
-beginning of winter some four or five score of
-human shadows, men and women, crept about
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>the dead streets and the fields beyond them
-in their daily quest for the means to keep life
-in their bodies; but, as the weeks drew on
-and the winter hardened, starvation and the
-sickness born of starvation reduced their
-numbers by a half. Those lived best who
-were most skilful at the trapping of vermin;
-and they had long been existing on little but
-rat-flesh, when some hunters of rats, on the
-track of their prey, discovered a treasure
-beyond price—a godsend—in the shape of
-sacks of grain in the cellar of an empty
-brewery.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The discovery meant more than a supply
-of food and the staving-off of death by starvation;
-with the possession of resources that,
-with care, might last for weeks there came
-into being a common interest, the fellowship
-that makes a social system. After the first
-wild struggle—the rush to fill their hands and
-cram their gnawing stomachs—the shadows
-and skeletons of men controlled their instincts
-and took counsel; the fact that their stomachs
-were full and their craving satisfied gave back
-to them the power of construction, of forethought
-and restraint; they ceased to be
-instinctively inimical and wholly animal and
-took common measures for the preservation
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>and rationing of their heaven-sent windfall.
-They advised, consulted, heard opinion and
-gave it, were reasonable; counted their
-numbers in relation to the size of their hoard;
-and in the end decided, by common consent,
-on the amount of the daily portion which was
-to be allotted to each in return for his share
-in the duty of guarding it—against the cravings
-of their own hunger as well as against the
-inroads of rats and mice.... With food—with
-property—they were human again;
-capable of plans for the morrow, of concerted
-and intelligent action. The enmity they had
-hitherto felt against each other was suddenly
-transferred to the stranger—the foreigner—who
-might force his way in and acquire a
-share in their treasure. Hence they took
-precautions against the arrival of the stranger,
-kept watch and ward on the outskirts of the
-town and drove away the chance newcomer,
-so that the knowledge of their good fortune
-should not spread. With duties shared, the
-dead sense of comradeship revived; they
-began to recognize and greet each other as
-they came for their daily portion. And if
-some were restrained only by the common
-watchfulness from appropriating more than
-their share of the common stock, there
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>were others in whom stirred the sense of
-honour.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>For a week or more they lived under the
-beginnings of a social system which was
-rendered possible by their certainty of a
-daily mess; and then came what, perhaps,
-was inevitable—discovery of pilfering from
-the store that gave life to them all. The
-pilferers, detected by the night guard, fled on
-the instant, well knowing that their sin
-against the very existence of the little community
-was a sin beyond hope of forgiveness;
-they eluded pursuit in the darkness and by
-morning had vanished from the neighbourhood.
-For the time only; since they took
-with them the knowledge of the hoarded grain
-they had forfeited—a knowledge which was
-power and a weapon to themselves, a danger
-to those they had fled from. Two days later,
-after nightfall, a skeleton rabble, armed with
-knives, clubs and stones, was led into the
-town by the renegades; and there was
-fought out a fierce, elementary battle, a
-struggle of starved men for the prize of life
-itself.... From the first the case of the
-defenders was hopeless; outnumbered and
-taken by surprise, they were beaten in detail,
-overwhelmed—and in less than five minutes
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>the survivors were flying for their lives, the
-darkness their only hope of safety.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore Savage was of the remnant who
-owed their lives to darkness and the speed
-with which they fled. As he neared the outskirts
-of the town and slackened, exhausted,
-to draw breath, he heard the patter of running
-steps behind him and for a moment believed
-himself pursued—till a passing burst of moonlight
-showed the runner as a woman, like
-himself seeking safety in flight. A young
-woman, with a sobbing open mouth, who
-clutched at his arm and besought him not to
-leave her to be killed—to save her, to get her
-away!... He knew her by sight as he
-knew all the members of the destitute little
-community—a girl with a face once plump,
-now hollowed, whom he had seen daily when
-she came, in stupid wretchedness, to hold out
-her bowl for her share of the common ration;
-one of a squalid company of three or four
-women who herded together—and whose habit
-of instinctive fellowship was broken by the
-sudden onslaught which had driven them
-apart in flight.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I don’t know where they’ve all gone,” she
-wailed. “Don’t leave me—for Gawd’s saike
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>don’t leave me.... Ow, whatever shall I
-do?... I dunno where to go—for Gawd’s
-sake....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He would gladly have been rid of her
-lamenting helplessness but she clung to him
-in a panic that would not be gainsaid, as
-fearful almost of the lonely dark ahead as of
-the bloody brawl she had fled from.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Hold your tongue,” he ordered as he
-pulled her along. “Don’t make that noise
-or they’ll hear us. And keep close to me—keep
-in the shadow.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She obeyed and stilled her sobbing to gasps
-and whimpers—holding tightly to his arm
-while he hurried her through by-streets to
-the open country. He knew no more than
-she where they were going when they left
-the silent outskirts of the town behind them,
-and, pressing against each other for warmth,
-bent their heads to a January wind.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>X</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>That night for Theodore Savage was the
-beginning of an odd partnership, a new phase
-of his life uncivilized. The girl who had
-clutched at him as the drowning clutch at
-straws was destined to bear him company for
-more than a winter’s night and a journey to
-comparative safety; being by nature and
-training of the type that clings, as a matter
-of right, to whomsoever will fend for it, she
-drifted after him instinctively. When she
-woke in the morning in the shelter he had
-found for her she looked round for him to
-guide and, if possible, feed her—and awaited
-his instructions passively.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>One human being—so it did not threaten
-him with violence—was no more to him than
-another, and perhaps he hardly noticed that
-when he rose and moved on she followed.
-From that hour forth she was always at his
-heels—complaining or too wretched to complain.
-He would let her hang on his arm as
-they trudged and shared his findings of food
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>with her—because she had followed, was
-there; and it was some time before he
-realized that he had shouldered a responsibility
-which had no intention of shifting
-itself from his back.... When he realized
-the fact he had already tacitly accepted
-it; and for the first few weeks of their
-existence in common he was too fiercely
-occupied in the task of keeping them both
-alive to consider or define his relationship
-to the creature who whimpered and
-stumbled at his heels and took scraps of
-food from his hands. When, at last, he considered
-it, the relationship was established on
-both sides. She was his dependent, after the
-fashion of a child or an accustomed dog; and
-having learned to look to him for food, for
-guidance and protection, she could be cast off
-only by direct cruelty and the breaking of a
-daily habit.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In the beginning that was all; she followed
-because she did not know what else to do; he
-led and they hungered together. For the
-most part they were silent with the speechlessness
-of misery, and it was days before he
-even asked her name, weeks before he knew
-more of her life in the past than was betrayed
-by a Cockney accent. So long as existence
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>was a craving and a fear, where nothing mattered
-save hunger and the fending-off of
-present death, the fact that she was a woman
-meant no more to him than her dependence
-and his own responsibility; thus her companionship
-was no more than the bodily presence
-of a human being whose needs were his own,
-whose terrors and whose enemies were his.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>They prowled and starved together through
-the long bitterness of winter in a world
-stripped bare of its last year’s harvest where
-all hungry mouths strove to keep other mouths
-at a distance; and time and again, when they
-grubbed for food or sought to take shelter, they
-were driven away with threats and with violence
-by those who already held possession of
-some tract of street or country. No claim to
-ownership could stand against the claim of a
-stronger, and one man, meeting them, would
-avoid them, slink out of their way—because,
-being two, they could strip him if the mood
-should take them. And when they, in their
-turn, sighted three or four figures in the distance,
-they made haste to take another road.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Once, when a solitary wayfarer shrank from
-them and scuttled to the cover of a ragged
-patch of firwood, there came back to Theodore,
-like a rushing mighty wind, the memory of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>his last days in London, the thought of his
-journey down to York. The strange, glad
-fellowship of the outbreak of war, the eagerness
-to serve and be sacrificed; the friendliness
-of strangers, the dear love of England,
-the brotherhood!... The creature who scuttled
-at his very sight would have been his
-brother in those first days of splendid sacrifice!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Lord God!” he said and laughed long and
-uncontrollably; while the girl, Ada, stared in
-open-mouthed bewilderment—then pulled at
-his arm and began to cry, believing he was
-going off his head.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>In their hunted and fugitive life their wanderings,
-of necessity, were planless; they
-drifted east or west, by this road or that, as
-fear, the weather or the cravings of their
-hunger prompted. They sought food, thought
-food only and, as far as possible, avoided the
-neighbourhood of those, their fellow-men, who
-might try to share their meagre findings.
-House-room, bare house-room, stood ready for
-their taking in the country as well as in the
-town; but wherever there was more than
-house-room—food or the mere possibility of
-food—the human wolf was at hand to dispute
-it with his rivals. There was a time when a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>road, followed blindly, led them down to the
-sea and the corpse of a pretentious little watering-place—where
-stiff, blank terraces of ornate
-brick and plaster stared out at the unbroken
-sea-line; they found themselves shelter in a
-bow-windowed villa that still bore the legend
-“Ocean View: Apartments,” trudged along
-the tide-mark in search of sand-crabs and
-fished from an iron-legged pier. When a long
-winter gale swept the pier with breakers and
-put a stop to their fishing, they turned and
-tramped inland again.... And there was
-another time when they were the sole inhabitants
-of a stretch of Welsh mining-village—they
-knew it for Welsh by the street-names—where
-they hunted their rats and grubbed for
-roots in allotments already trampled over.
-For very starvation they moved on again; and
-later—how much later they could not remember—took
-shelter, because they could go no
-further, in a cottage on the outskirts of a moorland
-hamlet, where they were almost at extremity
-when a bitter spell of cold, at the end
-of winter, sent them food in the shape of
-frozen rooks and starlings. And, a day or
-two later, they were driven out again; Theodore,
-searching for dead birds in the snow, met
-others engaged in the same hungry quest—other
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>and earlier settlers in the neighbourhood
-who saw in him a poacher on their scanty
-hunting-grounds and, gathering together in a
-common hate and need, fell on the intruders
-and chased them out with stones and threats.
-Theodore and the girl were hunted from their
-homestead and out on to the bleakness of the
-moor; whence, looking back breathless and
-aching from their bruises, they saw half a
-dozen yelling starvelings who still threatened
-them with shouts and upraised fists....
-They went on blindly because they dared not
-stay; and that, for many days, was the last
-they saw of mankind.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>It must have been towards the end of
-February or the beginning of March that they
-ended their long goings to and fro and found
-the refuge that, for many months, was to give
-them hiding and sustenance. Since they had
-been driven from their last shelter they had
-sighted no enemy in the shape of a living man,
-but the days that followed their flight had been
-almost foodless; and in the end they had
-come near to death from exposure on a stretch
-of hill and heath-covered country where they
-lost all sense of direction or even of desire.
-There, without doubt, they would have left
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>their bones if there had not already been a
-promise of spring in the air; as it was, they
-could hardly drag themselves along when
-the moor dropped suddenly into a valley, a
-wide strip of land once pasture, now bleak and
-blackened from the passing of the poison-fire
-which had seared it from end to end. Here
-and there were charred mummies of men and
-of animals, lying thickest round a farmhouse,
-partly burned out; but beyond the burned
-farmhouse was a stream that might yield them
-fish; and with the warmth that was melting
-the snow on the hilltops little shafts of green
-life were piercing through the blackened soil.
-Before dark, in what once had been a garden,
-they scraped with their nails and their knives
-and found food—worm-eaten roots that would
-once have seemed unfit for cattle, that they
-thrust into their mouths unwashed. They
-sheltered for the night within the skeleton
-walls of the farm; and when, with morning,
-they crawled into the sun, the last patch of
-snow had vanished from the hills and the tiny
-shafts of green were more radiant against the
-blackened soil.... The long curse and barrenness
-of winter was over and Nature was
-beginning anew her task of supporting her
-children.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>From that day forward they lived isolated,
-without sight or sound of men. Chance had
-led them to a loneliness which was safety,
-coupled with a bare possibility of supporting
-life—by rooting in fields left derelict, by fishing
-and the snaring of birds; but for all their isolation
-it was long before they ceased to peer
-for men on the horizon, to take careful precautions
-against the coming of their own kind.
-With the memory of savagery and violence
-behind them, they looked round sharply at
-an unaccustomed sound, kept preferably to
-woods and shadow and moved furtively in open
-country; and Theodore’s ultimate choice of a
-dwelling-place was dictated chiefly by fear of
-discovery and desire to remain unseen. What
-he sought was not only a shelter, a roof-tree,
-but a hiding-place which other men might
-pass without notice; hence he settled at last
-in a fold of the hills—in a copse of tall wood,
-some four or five miles from their first halt,
-where oaks and larches, bursting into bud,
-denied the ruin that had come upon last year’s
-world.... Theodore, setting foot in the
-wood for the first time—seeking refuge, a
-hiding-place to cower in—was suddenly in
-presence of the green life unchanging, that
-blessed and uplifted by its very indifference to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>the downfall and agony of man. The windflowers,
-thrusting through brown leaves, were
-as last year’s windflowers—a delicate endurance
-that persisted.... He had entered a
-world that had not altered since the days
-when he lived as a man.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He explored his little wood with precaution,
-creeping through it from end to end; and,
-finding no more recent sign of human occupation
-than a stack of sawn logs, their bark grey
-with mould, he decided on the site of his camp
-and refuge—a clearing near the stream that
-babbled down the valley, but well hidden by
-its thick belt of trees. The girl had followed
-him—she dreaded being left alone of all
-things—and assented with her customary
-listlessness when he explained to her that the
-bird-life and the stream would mean a food-supply
-and that the logs, ready cut, could be
-built into shelters from the weather; she was
-a town-dweller, mentally as well as by habit
-of body, whom the spring of the woods had no
-power to rouse from her apathy.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There were empty cottages for the taking
-lower down the valley and it was the fear of
-the marauder alone that sent them to camp in
-the wilderness, that kept them lurking in their
-fold of the hills, not daring to seek for greater
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>comfort. Within a day or two after they had
-discovered it, they were hidden away in the
-solitary copse, their camp, to begin with, no
-more than a couple of small lean-to’s—logs
-propped against the face of a projecting rock
-and their interstices stuffed with green moss.
-In the first few weeks of their lonely life they
-were often near starvation; but with the
-passing of time food was more abundant, not
-only because Theodore grew more skilled in his
-fishing and snaring—learned the haunts of
-birds and the likely pools for fish—but because,
-as spring ripened, they inherited in the waste
-land around them a legacy of past cultivation,
-fruits of the earth that had sown themselves
-and were growing untended amidst weeds.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With time, with experiment and returning
-strength, Theodore made their refuge more
-habitable; tools, left lying in other men’s
-houses, fields and gardens, were to be had for
-the searching, and, when he had brought home
-a spade discovered in a weed-patch and an axe
-found rusting on a cottage floor, he built a clay
-oven that their fire might not quench in the
-rain and hewed wood for the bettering of their
-shelters. Ada—when he told her where to
-look for it—gathered moss and heather for
-their bed-places and spread it to dry in the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>sun; and from one of his more distant expeditions
-he returned with pots which served for
-cooking and the carrying of water from the
-stream.... Spring lengthened into summer
-and no man came near them; they lived
-only to themselves in a primitive existence
-which concerned itself solely with food and
-bodily security.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As the days grew longer and the means of
-subsistence were easier to come by, Theodore
-would go further afield—still moving cautiously
-over open country, but no longer expectant
-of onslaught. In the immediate neighbourhood
-of his daily haunts and hunting-grounds
-was no sign of human life and work
-save a green cart-track that ended on the
-outskirts of his copse; but lower down the
-valley were ploughed fields lapsing into weed-beds,
-here and there an orchard or a garden-patch
-and hedges that straggled as they would.
-Lower down again was another wide belt of
-burned land which, so far, he had not entered—trees
-on either side the stream, stood gaunt
-and withered to the farthest limit of his sight.
-The district, even when alive and flourishing,
-had seemingly been sparsely populated; its
-lonely dwellings were few and far apart—a
-farmhouse here, a clump of small cottages
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>there, all bearing traces of the customary
-invasion by the hungry. Sheep-farming had
-been one of the local industries, and hillsides
-and fields were dotted with the skeletons of
-sheep—left lying where vagabond hunger had
-slaughtered them and ripped the flesh from
-their bones.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As the year rolled over him, Theodore came
-to know the earth as primitive man and the
-savage know it—as the source of life, the storehouse
-of uncertain food, the teacher of cunning
-and an infinite and dogged patience. When
-the weather made wandering or fishing impossible
-he would sit under shelter, with his
-hands on his knees, passive, unimpatient,
-hardly moving through long hours, while he
-waited for the rain to cease. It was months
-before there stirred in him a desire for more
-than safety and his daily bread, before he
-thought of the humanity he had fled from
-except with fear and a shrinking curiosity as
-to what might be happening in the world beyond
-his silent hills. In his body, exhausted
-by starvation, was a mind exhausted and
-benumbed; to which only very gradually—as
-the quiet and healing of Nature worked on
-him—the power of speculation and outside
-interest returned. In the beginnings of his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>solitary life he still spoke little and thought
-little save of what was personal and physical;
-cut off mentally from the future as well as from
-the past, he was content to be relieved of the
-pressure of hunger and hidden from the enemy,
-man.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>Of the woman whom chance and her own
-helplessness had thrown upon his hands he
-knew, in those first months, curiously little.
-She remained to him what she had been from
-the moment she clutched at his arm and fled
-with him—an encumbrance for which he was
-responsible—and as the numbness passed from
-his brain and he began once more to live mentally,
-she entered less and less into his thoughts.
-She was Ada Cartwright—as pronounced by
-its owner he took the name at first for Ida—ex-factory
-hand and dweller in the north-east
-of London; once vulgarly harmless in the
-company of like-minded gigglers, now stupefied
-by months of fear and hunger, bewildered
-and incapable in a life uncivilized that demanded
-of all things resource. As she ate
-more plentifully and lost her starved hollows,
-she was not without comeliness of the vacant,
-bouncing type; a comeliness hidden from
-Theodore by her tousled hair, her tattered
-garments and the heavy wretchedness that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>sulked in her eyes and turned down the corners
-of her mouth. She was helpless in her new
-surroundings, with the dazed helplessness of
-those who have never lived alone or bereft
-of the minor appliances of civilization; to
-Theodore, at times, she seemed half-witted,
-and he treated her perforce as a backward
-child, to be supervised constantly lest it fail
-in the simplest of tasks.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was his well-meant efforts to renew her
-scanty and disreputable wardrobe that first
-revealed to him something of the mind that
-worked behind her outward sullen apathy. In
-the beginning of disaster clothing had been
-less of a difficulty than the other necessities of
-life; long after food was a treasure beyond
-price it could often be had for the taking and,
-when other means of obtaining it failed, those
-who needed a garment would strip it from the
-dead, who had no more need of it. In their
-hidden solitude it was another matter, and
-they were soon hard put to it to replace the
-rags that hung about them; thus Theodore
-accounted himself greatly fortunate when,
-ransacking the rooms of an empty cottage, he
-came on a cupboard with three or four
-blankets which he proceeded to convert into
-clothing by the simple process of cutting a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>hole in the middle. He returned to the camp
-elated by his acquisition; but when he presented
-Ada with her improvised cloak, the
-girl astonished him by turning her head and
-bursting into noisy tears.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“What’s the matter?” he asked her, bewildered.
-“Don’t you like it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She made no answer but noisier tears, and
-when he insisted that it would keep her nice
-and warm her sobs rose to positive howls;
-he stared at her uncertainly as she sat and
-rocked, then knelt down beside her and
-began to pat and soothe, as he might have
-tried to soothe a child. In the end the
-howls diminished in volume and he obtained
-an explanation of the outburst—an explanation
-given jerkily, through sniffs, and accompanied
-by much rubbing of eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>No, it wasn’t that she didn’t want it—she
-did want it—but it reminded her.... It
-was so ’ard never to ’ave anything nice to
-wear. Wasn’t she ever going to ’ave anything
-nice to wear again—not ever, as long as
-she lived?... She supposed she’d always
-got to be like this! No ’airpins—and straw
-tied round her feet instead of shoes!...
-Made you look as if you’d got feet like elephants—and
-she’d always been reckoned to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>’ave a small foot.... Made you wish you
-was dead and buried!...</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He tried two differing lines of consolation,
-neither particularly successful; suggesting,
-in the first place, that there was no one but
-himself to see what she looked like, and, in the
-second, that a blanket could be made quite
-becoming as a garment.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“That’s a lie,” Ada told him sulkily. “You
-know it ain’t becoming—’ow could it be? A
-blanket with an ’ole for the ’ead!... Might
-just as well ’ave no figure. Might just as well
-be a sack of pertaters.... I wonder what
-anyone would ’ave said at ’ome if I’d told ’em
-I should ever be dressed in a blanket with an
-’ole for the ’ead!... And I always ’ad
-taiste in my clothes—everyone said I ’ad
-taiste.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>And—stirred to the soul by the memory of
-departed chiffon, by the hideous contrast between
-present squalor and former Sunday best—her
-howls once more increased in volume
-and she blubbered with her head on her knee.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore gave up the attempt at consolation
-as useless, leaving her to weep herself out
-over vanished finery while he busied himself
-with the cooking of their evening meal; and
-in due time she came to the end of her stock
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>of emotion, ceased to snuffle, ate her supper
-and took possession of the blanket with the
-’ole for the ’ead—which she wore without
-further complaint. The incident was over and
-closed; but it was not without its significance
-in their common life. To Theodore the tragicomic
-outburst was a reminder that his dependent,
-for all her childish helplessness, was
-a woman, not only a creature to be fed; while
-the stirrings of Ada’s personal vanity were a
-sign and token that she, also, was emerging
-from the cowed stupor of body and mind produced
-by long terror and starvation, that her
-thoughts, like her companion’s, were turning
-again to the human surroundings they had
-fled from.... Man had ceased to be only an
-enemy, and the first sheer relief at security
-attained was mingling, in both of them, with
-the desire to know what had come to a world
-that still gave no sign of its existence. Order,
-the beginnings of a social system (so Theodore
-insisted to himself) must by now have risen
-from the dust; but meanwhile—because order
-restored gave no sign and the memory of humanity
-debased was still vivid—he showed himself
-with caution against the skyline and went
-stealthily when he broke new ground. There
-were days when he lay on a hill-top and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>scanned the clear horizon, for an hour at a
-time, in the hope that a man would come in
-sight; just as there were nights, many, when
-he lived his past agonies over again and
-started from his sleep, alert and trembling, lest
-the footstep he had dreamed might be real.
-Meanwhile he made no move towards the
-world he had fled from—waiting till it gave
-him a sign.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>If he had been alone in his wilderness, unburdened
-by the responsibility of Ada and
-her livelihood, it is probable that, before the
-days shortened, he would have embarked upon
-a journey of cautious exploration; but there
-was hazard in taking her, hazard in leaving her,
-and their safety was still too new and precious
-to be lightly risked for the sake of a curious
-adventure—which might lead, with ill-luck, to
-discovery of their secret place and the enforced
-sharing of their hidden treasure of food.
-Further, as summer drew on towards autumn,
-though his haunting fear of mankind grew less,
-his work in his own small corner of the earth
-was incessant and, in preparation for the
-coming of winter, he put thought of distant
-expedition behind him and busied himself in
-making their huts more weatherproof, as well
-as roomier, in the storing of firewood under
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>shelter from the damp, and in the gathering
-together of a stock of food that would not rot.
-He made frequent journeys—sometimes alone,
-sometimes with Ada trudging behind him—to
-a derelict orchard in the lower valley which
-supplied them plentifully with apples; he had
-provided himself with a wet-weather occupation
-in the twisting of osiers into clumsy
-baskets—which were filled in the orchard and
-carried to their camping-place where they
-spread out the apples on dried moss....
-With summer and autumn they fared well
-enough on the harvest of other men’s planting;
-and if Theodore’s crude and ignorant
-experiments in the storage of fruit and vegetables
-were failures more often than not, there
-remained sufficient of the bounty of harvest
-to help them through the scarcity of winter.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>It was with the breaking of the next spring
-that there came a change into the life that he
-lived with Ada.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>They had dragged through the winter in a
-squalid hardship that, but for the memory of
-a hardship more dreadful, would have seemed
-at times beyond bearing; often short of food,
-with no means of light but their fire, with
-damp and snow dripping through their ill-built
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>shelters—where they learned, like animals,
-to sleep through the long dark hours.
-Through all the winter months their solitude
-was still unbroken, and if any marauders
-prowled in the neighbourhood, they passed
-without knowledge of the hidden camp in the
-hills.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was—so far as he could guess—on one of
-the first sunny days of March that Theodore,
-the spring lust of movement stirring in his
-blood, went further from the camp than he
-had as yet explored; following the stream
-down its valley into the wide belt of burned
-land, now rank with coarse grass and yellow
-dandelions. For an hour or so there was
-nothing save coarse grass, yellow dandelion
-and gaunt, dead trees; then a bend of the
-stream showed him roofs—a cluster of them—and
-instinctively he halted and crouched
-behind a tree before making his stealthy
-approach.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>His stealth and precaution were needless.
-The village from a distance might have passed
-for uninjured—the flames that had blackened
-its fields had swept by it, and the houses, for
-the most part, stood whole; but there was no
-living man in the long, straggling street, no
-movement, save of birds and the pattering
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>little scuffle of rats. The indifferent life of
-beast and bird had taken possession of the
-dwellings of those who once tyrannized over
-them; and not only of their dwellings but
-their bodies. At the entrance of the village
-half-a-dozen skeletons lay sprawled on the
-grass-grown road, and a robin sang jauntily
-from his perch on the breast-bone of a man....
-From one end of the street to the other
-the bones of men lay scattered; in the road,
-in gardens, on the thresholds of houses—some
-with tattered rags still fluttering to the wind,
-some bare bones only, whence the flesh had
-festered and been gnawed. By a cottage
-doorstep lay two skeletons touching each
-other—whereof one was the framework of a
-child; the little bones that had once been
-arms reached out to the death’s-head that once
-had borne the likeness of a woman....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There was a time when Theodore would
-have turned from the sight and fled hastily;
-even now, familiar though he was with the
-ugliness of death, his flesh stirred and crept
-in the presence of the grotesque litter of
-bones.... These people had died suddenly,
-in strange contorted attitudes—here crouching,
-there outstretched with clawing fingers.
-Gas, he supposed—a cloud of gas rolling down
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>the street before the wind—and perhaps not
-a soul left alive!... From an upper window
-hung a long, fleshless arm: someone had
-thrust up the casement for air and fallen half
-across the sill.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was the indifferent, busy chirping of the
-nesting birds that helped him to the courage to
-explore the silent street to its end. It wound,
-through the village and out of it, to a bridge
-across a river—into which flowed the smaller
-stream he had followed since he left his refuge
-in the hills. From the bridge the road turned
-with the river and ran down the valley in a
-south to south-easterly direction; a road
-grass-grown and empty and bearing no recent
-trace of the life of man—nothing more recent
-than the remains of a cart, blackened wood
-and rusted metal, with the bones of a horse
-between its shafts.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Below the dead village the valley opened
-out, the hills receded and were lower; but
-between them, so far as his eye could discern,
-the trees were still blackened and lifeless.
-Down either side the stream the fire-blast
-had swept without mercy; and, from the
-completeness with which the country had been
-seared, Theodore judged that it had been
-largely cornland, waving with ripe stalks at
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>the moment of disaster and fired after days of
-dry weather.... All life, save the life of man,
-teemed in the hot March sun; the herbage
-thrust bravely to obliterate his handiwork,
-larks shrilled invisibly and lithe, dark fish
-were darting through the arches of the bridge.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He went only a yard or two beyond the end
-of the bridge—having, as the sun warned him,
-reached the limit of distance he could well
-accomplish if he was to return to the camp by
-nightfall. On his way back through the village
-he fought with his repugnance to the
-grinning company of the dead and turned into
-one of the silent houses that stood open for
-any man to enter. Though the dead still
-dwelt there—stricken down, on the day of
-disaster before they could reach the open air—there
-were the usual abundant traces that
-living men had been there before him; the
-door had been forced and rooms littered and
-fouled in the frequent search for clothing and
-food. All the same, in the hugger-mugger on
-a kitchen floor he found treasure of string and
-stuffed the blanket-bag slung over his back
-with odds and ends of rusting hardware;
-finally mounting to the floor above the kitchen
-where, at the head of the staircase, an open
-door faced him and beyond it a chest of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>drawers. The drawers had been pulled out
-and emptied on the floor; what remained of
-their contents was a dirty litter, sodden by
-rain when it drove through the window and
-browned with the dust of many months, and it
-was not until Theodore had picked up a handful
-of the litter that he saw it was composed of
-women’s trifles of underwear. What he held
-was a flimsy bodice made of soiled and faded
-lawn with a narrow little edging of lace.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He dropped it, only to pick it up again —
-remembering suddenly the blanket episode and
-Ada’s lamentable howls for the garments a
-wilderness denied her. Perhaps an assortment
-of dingy finery would do something to
-allay her craving—and, amused at the thought,
-he went down on a knee and proceeded to
-collect an armful. Appropriately the shifting
-of a heap of yellowed rags revealed a broken
-hand-glass, lying face downwards on the floor;
-as he raised it, wondering what Ada would say
-to a mirror as a gift, its cracked surface
-showed him a bedstead behind him—not
-empty!... What was left of the owner of
-the scraps of lawn and lace was reflected from
-the oval of the glass.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He snatched up his bag and clattered down
-the stairs into the open.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>It was well past dusk when he trudged up
-the path that led to the camp and found Ada
-on the watch at the outskirts of the copse,
-uneasy at the thought of dark alone.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You ’ave been a time,” she reproached
-him sulkily. “The ’ole blessed day—since
-breakfus. I was beginnin’ to think you’d
-gone and got lost and I’ve ’ad the fair ’ump
-sittin’ ’ere by myself and listenin’ to them
-owls. I ’ate their beastly screechin’; it gives
-me the creeps.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Never mind,” he consoled her, “come
-along to the fire. I’ve brought you something—a
-present.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Pertaters?” Ada conjectured, still sulky.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Not potatoes this time,” he told her.
-“Better than vegetables—something to
-wear.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Something to wear,” she repeated, with
-no show of enthusiasm. “I suppose that’s
-another old blanket!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Wrong again,” he rejoined, amused by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>the contempt in her voice. She was still contemptuous
-when he opened his bag and tossed
-her a dingy bundle; but as she disentangled
-it, saw lace and embroidery, she brightened
-suddenly and knelt down to examine in the
-firelight; while the sight of the cracked
-hand-glass brought an instant “Oh!” followed
-by intent contemplation and much
-patting and twisting of hair.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore dished supper while she sat and
-pondered her reflection; and even while she
-ate hungrily she had eyes and thoughts for
-nothing but her new possessions. Some were
-what he had taken them to be—underclothes,
-for the most part of an ordinary pattern; but
-mingled with the plainer linen articles were
-one or two more decorative, lace collars and
-the like, and it was on these, dingy as they
-were, that she fell with delight that was open
-and audible. He watched her curiously when,
-for the first time since he had known her, he
-saw her mouth widen in a smile. She was
-no longer inert, the sullen, lumpish Ada, she
-was critical, interested, alive; she fingered
-her treasures, she smoothed them and made
-guesses at their price when new; she held
-them up, now this way, now that, for his
-admiration and her own. Finally, while
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>Theodore stretched his tired length by the
-camp fire, she ran off to her shelter for a
-broken scrap of comb; and when he looked
-up, a few minutes later, she was posing
-self-consciously before the hand-glass, with
-hair newly twisted and a dirty scrap of lace
-round her neck.... She was another woman
-as she sat with her rags arranged to show her
-new frippery; tilting the hand-mirror this
-way and that and twitching now at the collar
-and now at her straying ends of hair.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Lying stretched on an arm by the fire, he
-watched her little feminine antics, amused and
-taken out of himself; realizing how seldom,
-till that moment, he had thought of her as a
-woman, how nearly she had seemed to him an
-animal only, a creature to be guided and fed;
-and parrying her eager and insistent demand
-to be taken to the house where the treasure
-had been found, that she might see if it contained
-any more. He had no desire to spoil
-her pleasure in her finery by the gruesome tale
-of the manner of its finding; hence, in spite of
-a curiosity made manifest in coaxing, he held
-to his refusal stubbornly.... The house
-was a long way off, he told her—much further
-than she would care to tramp; then, as she
-still persisted, maintaining her readiness even
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>for a lengthy expedition, he went on to fiction
-and explained that the house was in a dangerous
-condition—knocked about, ruinous, might
-fall at any moment—and he was not going to
-say where it was, for her own sake, lest she
-should be tempted to the peril of an entry.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She pouted “You might tell me,” glancing
-at him from under her lashes; then, as he
-still persisted in refusal, slapped him on the
-shoulder for an obstinate boy, turned her back
-and pretended to sulk. He returned the slap—she
-expected it and giggled; the next move
-in the game was his catching of her wrist as
-she raised her hand for a rejoinder—and for a
-moment they wrestled inanely, after the fashion
-of Hampstead Heath.... As he let her go,
-it dawned on him that this was flirtation as
-she knew it.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>It did not take long for him to realize that
-they stood to each other, from that night on,
-in a new and more difficult relation; from
-foundling and guardian, the leader and led,
-they had developed into woman and man.
-For a time fear and hunger had suppressed in
-Ada the consciousness of sex—which a yard
-or two of lace and the possession of a hand-glass
-had revived. Once revived, it coloured
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>her every action, gave meaning to her every
-word and glance; so that, day by day and
-hour by hour, the man who dwelt beside her
-was reminded of bodily desire.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>One night when she had left him he lay
-staring at the fire, faced the situation and
-wondered if she saw where she was drifting?
-Possibly—possibly not; she was acting instinctively,
-from habit. To her (he was sure)
-a man was a creature to flirt with; an unsubtle
-attempt to arouse his desire was the
-only way she knew of carrying on a conversation....
-Now that she was woman again—not
-merely bewildered misery and empty
-stomach—she had slipped back inevitably to
-the little giggling allurements of her factory
-days, to the habits bred in her bone.... With
-the result?... He put the thought from
-him, turned over, dog-weary, and slept.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>So soon as the next night he saw the result
-as inevitable; the outcome of life reduced
-to mere animal living, of nearness, isolation
-and the daily consciousness of sex. If they
-stayed together—and how should they not
-stay together?—it was only a question of
-time, of weeks at the furthest, of days or it
-might be hours.... He raised himself to
-peer through the night at the log-hut that hid
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>and sheltered Ada, wondering if she also were
-awake. If so, of a certainty, her thoughts were
-of him; and perhaps she knew likewise that it
-was only a question of time. Perhaps—and
-perhaps she just drifted, following her instincts....
-He found himself wondering what she
-would say if she opened her eyes to find him
-standing at the entrance to her hut, to see him
-bending over her&nbsp;... now?</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He put the thought from him and once more
-turned over and slept.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With the morning it seemed further off,
-less inevitable; the sun was hidden behind
-raw grey mist, and when Ada, shivering and
-stupid, turned out into the chilly discomfort
-of the weather she was too much depressed
-for the exercise of feminine coquetry. The
-day’s work—hard necessary wood-chopping
-and equally necessary fishing for the larder—sent
-his thoughts into other channels, and it
-was not till he sat at their evening fire—warmed,
-fed and rested, with no duties to
-distract him—that he became conscious again,
-and even more strongly, of the change in their
-attitude and intercourse. Something new,
-of expectation, had crept into it; something
-of excitement and constraint. When their
-hands touched by chance they noticed it, were
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>instantly awkward; when a silence fell Ada
-was embarrassed, uncomfortable and made
-palpable efforts to break it with her pointless
-giggle. When their eyes met, hers dropped
-and looked away.... When she rose at last
-and said good-night he was sure that she also
-knew. And since they both knew and the end
-was inevitable, certain....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You’re not going yet,” he said—and
-caught at her wrist, laughing oddly.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It’s late—and I’m sleepy,” she objected
-with a foolish little giggle; but made no effort
-to withdraw her wrist from his hold.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Nonsense,” he told her, “it’s early yet—and
-you’re better by the fire. Sit down and
-keep me company for a bit longer.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She giggled again—more faintly, more nervously—as
-she yielded to the pull of his fingers
-and sat down; offering no protest when, instead
-of releasing her arm, he drew it through
-his own and held it pressed to his side.... It
-was a windless night, very silent; no sound
-but the rush of the little stream below them,
-now and then a bird-cry and the snap and
-crackle of their fire. Once or twice Ada tried
-talking—of a hooting owl, of a buzzing insect—for
-the sake, obviously, of talking, of hearing
-a voice through the silence; but as he answered
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>not at all, or by monosyllables, her
-forced little chatter died away. Even if the
-thought was not conscious, he knew she was
-his for the taking.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With her arm in his—with her body pressed
-close enough to feel her quickened breathing—he
-sat and stared into the fire; and at the last,
-when the inevitable was about to accomplish
-itself, there floated into his mental vision the
-delicate memory of the woman whom once he
-had desired. Phillida, a shadow impossible,
-leaned out of a vanished existence as the
-Damosel leaned out of Heaven; and he looked
-with his civilized, his artist’s eyes on the woman
-who was his for the taking.... Ada felt
-that he slackened his hold on her arm, felt
-him shrink a little from the pressure of her
-leaning shoulder.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“What is it?” she asked—uneasy; and
-perhaps it was the sound of her familiar voice
-that brought him back to primitive realities.
-The glow of the fire and the over-arching vault
-of darkness; and beneath it two creatures,
-male and female, alone with nature, subject
-only to the laws of her instinct.... The
-vision of a dead world, a dead woman, faded
-and he looked no more through the fastidious
-eyes of the civilized.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>Man civilized is various, divided from his
-kind by many barriers—of taste, of speech, of
-habit of mind and breeding; man living as
-the brute is cut to one pattern, the pattern
-of his simple needs and lusts.... The warm
-shoulder pressed him and he drew it the closer;
-he was man in a world of much labour and
-instinct—who sweated through the seasons
-and wearied. Whose pains were of the body,
-whose pleasures of the body&nbsp;... and alone
-in the night with a mate.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“’Ere, what’s that for?” she asked, making
-semblance of protest, as his hand went round
-her head and he pressed her cheek against
-his lips.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He said “You!”&nbsp;... and laughed oddly
-again.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>They settled down swiftly and prosaically
-into a married state which entailed no immediate
-alteration—save one—in life as they had
-hitherto shared it. Matrimony shorn of rings
-and a previous engagement, shorn of ceremony,
-honeymoon, change of residence and
-comments of friends, revealed itself as a
-curiously simple undertaking and, by its very
-simplicity, disappointing—so far at least as
-Ada was concerned.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Her conscience, in the matter of legal and
-religious observance, was not unduly tender,
-and her embryo scruples concerning the
-absence of legal or religious sanction to their
-union were easily allayed by her husband’s
-assurance that they were as truly married as
-it was possible to be in a world without
-churches or registrars. What she missed far
-more than certificate or blessing was the paraphernalia
-and accompanying circumstance of
-the wedding, to which she had always looked
-forward as the culminating point of her existence;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>her veil, her bouquet, her bevy of
-bridesmaids, her importance!... When she
-sat with her back against a tree-trunk, listlessly
-unobservant of the play of dappled
-sunlight or the tracery of leafage, she would
-crave in the shallows of her disappointed heart
-for the gaudy little sitting-room that should
-have been her newly-married dwelling; contrasting
-its impossible and non-existent splendours
-with the ramshackle roof-tree under
-which she took shelter from the weather. The
-gaudy, tasteless, stuffy little room wherein
-she should have set out her wedding presents,
-displayed her photos and done honours of
-possession to her friends.... That was
-matrimony as she understood it; enhanced
-importance, display of her matronly dignity.
-And instead, a marriage that aroused no envy,
-called forth no jests, affected none but the
-partners to the bond; in the unchanged discomfort
-of unchanged surroundings—wherein,
-being crowd-bred, she could see little beauty
-and no meaning; in the frequent loneliness
-and silence abhorrent to her noise-loving soul;
-with the evening companionship of a wearied
-man to whom her wifehood meant no more
-than a physical relation.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore, being male, was not troubled by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>her abstract longings for the minor dignities
-of matrimony—and, expecting little from his
-married life, it could not bring him disillusion.
-Ada might have fancied that what stirred in
-her was love; he had always known himself
-moved by a physical instinct only. Thus of
-the pair he was the less to be pitied when the
-increased familiarity of their life in common
-brought its necessary trouble in the shape of
-friction—revealing the extent of their unlikeness
-and even, with time, their antagonism.
-One of the results of her vague but ever-present
-sense of grievance, her lasting homesickness
-for a world that had crumbled, was a
-lack of interest in the world as it was and a
-reluctance to adapt herself to an environment
-altogether hateful; hence, on Theodore’s
-side, a justified annoyance at her continued
-want of resource and the burdensome stupidity
-which threw extra labour on himself.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She was a thoroughly helpless woman;
-helpless after the fashion of the town-bred
-specialist, the product of division of labour.
-The country, to her, was a district to drive
-through in a <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">char-à-banc</span> with convenient
-halts at public-houses. Having lived all her
-days as the member of a crowd, she was a
-creature incomplete and undeveloped; she
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>had schooled with a crowd and worked with it,
-shared its noise and its ready-made pleasures;
-it is possible that, till red ruin came, she had
-conceived of no other existence.... Leaving
-school, she had entered a string factory
-where she pocketed a fairly comfortable wage
-in return for the daily and yearly manipulation
-of a machine devoted to the production
-of a finer variety of twine. Having learned to
-handle the machine with ease, life had no more
-to offer her in the way of education, and development
-came to a standstill. Her meals, for
-the most part, she obtained without trouble
-from factory canteens, cheap restaurants or
-municipal kitchens; thus her domestic duties
-were few—the daily smearing of a bedroom
-(frequently omitted) and the occasional cobbling
-of a garment, bought ready-made. Her
-reading, since her schooldays, had consisted
-of novelettes only, and even to these she was
-not greatly addicted, preferring, as a rule, a
-more companionable form of amusement—a
-party to the pictures, gossip with her girlfriends
-and flirtations more or less open. At
-twenty-three (when disaster came) she was
-a buxom, useless and noisy young woman—good-natured,
-with the brain of a hen; incapable
-alike of boiling a potato or feeling an
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>interest in any subject that did not concern
-her directly.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There were moments when she irritated
-Theodore intensely by her infantile helplessness
-and the blunders that resulted therefrom,
-by her owlish stupidity in the face of the new
-and unfamiliar. And there were moments
-when, for that very owlishness, he pitied her
-with equal intensity, realizing that his own
-loss, his daily wretchedness, was a small thing
-indeed beside hers. The ruin of a world could
-not rob him utterly of his heritage of all the
-ages; part of that heritage no ruin could touch,
-since he had treasure stored in his heart and
-brain for so long as his memory should last.
-But for Ada, whose world had been a world of
-cheap finery, of giggling gossip and evenings
-at the cinema, there remained from the ages—nothing.
-Gossip and cinemas, flowered
-hats and ribbon-trimmed camisoles—they had
-left not a wrack, save regret, for her mind to
-feed on.... As the workings of her vacant
-little soul were laid bare to him, he understood
-how dreadful was its plight; how pitiably
-complete must be the blankness of a life such
-as hers, bereft of the daily little personal
-interests wherein had been summed up a
-world. She—unhandy, unresourceful, superficial—was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>one of the natural and inevitable
-products of a mechanical civilization; which,
-in saving her trouble, had stunted her, interposing
-itself between primary cause and effect.
-Bread, to her, was food bought at a counter—not
-grown with labour in a field; the result
-not of rain, sun and furrow, but of sixpence
-handed to a tradesman. And cunning men
-of science had wrestled with the forces of
-nature that she might drop a penny in the
-slot for warmth or suck sweets with her
-“boy” at the pictures.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He guessed her a creature who had always
-lived noisily, a babbler whom even his fits of
-taciturnity would not have daunted had she
-found much to babble of in the lonely world
-she shared with him; but, bewildered and
-awed by it, oppressed by its silence, she found
-meagre subject-matter for the very small talk
-which was her only method of expression.
-Under the peace and vastness of the open sky
-she was homesick for a life that excluded all
-vastness and peace; her sorrow’s crown of
-sorrow was a helpless, incessant craving for
-little meaningless noises and little personal
-excitements.... Sometimes, at night, as they
-sat by the fire, he would see her face pathetic in
-its blank dreariness; her eyes wandering from
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>the glow of the fire to the darkness beyond it
-and back from the darkness to the glow.
-Endeavouring—(or so he imagined)—to piece
-together some form of inner life from fragmentary
-memories of past inanity and aimless,
-ephemeral happenings!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The sight often moved him to pity; but he
-cast about in vain for a means of allaying her
-sodden and persistent discontent. Once or
-twice he attempted to awaken her interest by
-explaining, as he would have explained to a
-child, the movements of nightly familiar stars,
-the habits of birds or the process of growth in
-vegetation. These things, as he took care to
-point out, now concerned her directly, were
-part of the round of her existence; but the
-fact had no power to stimulate a mind which
-had been accustomed to accept, without interest
-or inquiry, the marvels of mechanical
-science. She carried over into her new life the
-same lack of curiosity which had characterized
-her dealings with the old; she was no more
-alive to the present phenomena of the open
-field than to the past phenomena of the electric
-switch, the petrol-engine or the gas-meter....
-And the workings of the gas-meter at
-least had been pleasant—while the workings
-of raw nature repelled her. Thus Theodore’s
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>only reward for his attempt at education was
-a bored, inattentive remark, to the effect that
-she had heard her teacher say something like
-that at school.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She had all the crowd-liver’s horror of her
-own company; strengthened, in her case, by
-dislike of her surroundings, amounting to abhorrence,
-and the abiding nervousness that
-was a natural after-effect of the days when she
-had fled from her fellows and cowered to the
-earth in an abject and animal terror. Her unwillingness
-to let Theodore out of her sight
-was comprehensible enough, if irritating; but
-there were times when it was more than irritating—a
-difficulty added to life. It was impossible
-to apportion satisfactorily a daily
-toil that, if Ada had her way, must always be
-performed in company; while her customary
-fellowship on his hunting and snaring expeditions
-meant not only the presence of a
-clumsy idler but the dying down of a neglected
-log-fire and the postponement of all
-preparations for a meal until after their
-return to camp. Further, it was a bar to that
-wider exploration of the neighbourhood which,
-as time went on, he desired increasingly; confining
-him, except on comparatively rare
-occasions, to such range from his hearthstone
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>as could be attained in the company of Ada.
-So long as he attributed it to the workings of
-fear only, he was hopeful that, with time, her
-abhorrence of loneliness might pass; but as
-the months went by he realized that it was not
-only fear that kept her close to his heels—her
-town-bred incapacity to interest or occupy
-herself.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Once—when the call of the outside world
-grew louder—he proposed to Ada that he
-should see her well provided with a store of
-food and fuel and leave her for two or three
-days; hoping to tempt her to agreement by
-pointing out the probability, amounting to
-certainty, that other survivors of disaster must
-be dwelling somewhere within reach. Peaceable
-survivors with whom they could join
-forces with advantage.... Her face lit up
-for a moment at the idea of other men’s company;
-but when she understood that he proposed
-to go alone, her terror at the idea of
-being left was abject and manifest. She was
-afraid of everything and anything; of ghosts,
-of darkness, of prowling men, of spiders and
-possible snakes; and, having reasoned in
-vain, in the end he gave her the assurance she
-clamoured for—that she should not be called
-on to suffer the agony of a night by herself.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>He gave her the promise in sheer pity, but
-regretted it as soon as made. He had set his
-heart on a journey in search of the world that
-gave no sign, planning to undertake it before
-the days grew shorter; but he did not disguise
-from himself that there might still be
-danger in the expedition—which Ada’s hampering
-presence would increase. The project
-was abandoned for the time being, in the hope
-that she would see reason later; but he regretted
-his promise and weakness the more
-when he found that Ada did not trust to his
-word and, fearing lest he gave her the slip,
-now clung to him as closely as his shadow.
-Her suspicion and stupidity annoyed him;
-and there were times when he was ashamed of
-his own irritation when he saw her trotting,
-like a dog, at his heels or squatting within
-eyeshot of his movements. He was conscious
-of a longing to slap her silly face, and more
-than once he spoke sharply to her, urged her
-to go home; whereupon she sulked or cried,
-but continued her trotting and squatting.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The irritation came to a head one afternoon
-in the early days of autumn when, with persistent
-ill-luck, he had been fishing a mile or
-so from home. Various causes combined to
-bring about the actual outbreak; a growing
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>anxiety with regard to the winter supply of
-provisions, sharpened by the discovery, the
-night before, that a considerable proportion
-of his store of vegetables was a failure and
-already malodorous; the ill-success of several
-hours’ fishing, and gusty, unpleasant weather
-that chilled him as he huddled by the water.
-The weather worsened after midday, the
-gusts bringing rain in their wake; a cold
-slanting shower that sent him, in all haste, to
-the clump of trees where Ada had sheltered
-since the morning. The sight of her sitting
-there to keep an eye on him—uselessly watchful
-and shivering to no purpose—annoyed him
-suddenly and violently; he turned on her
-sharply, as the shower passed, and bade her
-go home on the instant. She was to keep a
-good fire, a blazing fire—he would be drenched
-and chilled by the evening. She was to have
-water boiling that the meal might be cooked
-the moment he returned with the wherewithal....
-While he spoke she eyed him with
-questioning, distrustful sullenness; then,
-convinced that he meant what he said,
-half rose—only, after a moment of further
-hesitation, to slide down to her former
-position with her back against the trunk of
-a beech-tree.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>“I don’t want to,” she said doggedly. “I
-want to stay ’ere. I don’t see why I shouldn’t.
-What d’yer want to get rid of me for?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The suspicion that lay at the back of the
-refusal infuriated him: it was suddenly intolerable
-to be followed and spied on, and he
-lost his temper badly. The rough-tongued
-vehemence of his anger surprised himself as
-much as it frightened his wife; he swore at
-her, threatened to duck her in the stream, and
-poured out his grievances abusively. What
-good was she?—a clog on him, who could not
-even tend a fire, a helpless idiot who had to be
-waited on, a butter-fingered idler without
-brains! Let her do what he told her and
-make herself of use, unless she wanted to be
-turned out to fend for herself.... Much of
-what he said was justified, but it was put
-savagely and coarsely; and when—cowed,
-perhaps, by the suggestion of a ducking—Ada
-had taken to her heels in tears, he was remorseful
-as well as surprised at his own vehemence.
-He had not known himself as a man who could
-rail brutally and use threats to a woman; the
-revelation of his new possibilities troubled
-him; and when, towards sundown, he gathered
-up his meagre prey and stepped out
-homeward, it was with the full intention of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>making amends to Ada for the roughness of
-his recent outburst.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>His path took him through a copse of brushwood
-into what had been a cart-track; now
-grass-grown and crumbling between hedges
-that straggled and encroached. The wind,
-rising steadily, was sweeping ragged clouds
-before it and as he emerged from the shelter
-of the copse he was met by a stinging rain.
-He bent his head to it, in shivering discomfort,
-thrusting chilled hands under his cloak for
-warmth and longing for the blaze and the
-good warm meal that should thaw them; he
-had left the copse a good minute behind him
-when, from the further side of the overgrown
-hedge, he heard sudden rending of brambles,
-a thud, and a human cry. A yard or two on
-was a gap in the hedge where a gate still
-swung on its hinges; he rushed to it, quivering
-at the thought of possibilities—and found
-Ada struggling to her knees!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She began to cry loudly when she saw him,
-like a child caught in flagrant transgression;
-protesting, with bawling and angry tears,
-that “she wasn’t going to be ordered about”
-and “she should staiy just where she liked!”
-It did not take him long to gather that her
-previous flight had been a semblance only and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>that, shivering and haunted by ridiculous
-suspicion, she had watched him all the afternoon
-from behind the screen of the copse wood—for
-company partly, but chiefly to make
-sure he was there. Seeing him gather up his
-tackle and depart homeward, she had tried
-to outpace him unseen; keeping the hedge
-between them as she ran and hoping to avert
-a second explosion of his wrath by blowing
-up the ashes of the fire before his arrival at
-the camp. An unsuspected rabbit-burrow
-had tripped her hurrying feet and brought
-about disaster and discovery; and she made
-unskilful efforts to turn the misfortune to
-account by rubbing her leg and complaining
-of damage sustained.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In contact with her stubborn folly his
-repentance and kindly resolutions were forgotten;
-he cut short her bid for sympathy
-with a curt “Get along with you,” caught
-her by the arm and started her with a push
-along the road—too angry to notice that, for
-the first time, he had handled her with actual
-violence. Then, bending his head to the sweep
-of the rain, he strode on, leaving her to follow
-as she would.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Perhaps her leg really pained her, perhaps
-she judged it best to keep her distance from
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>his wrath; at any rate she was a hundred
-yards or more behind him when he reached
-the camp and, stirring the ashes that should
-have been a fire, found only a flicker alive.
-He cursed Ada’s idiocy between his chattering
-teeth as he set to work to re-kindle the fire;
-his hands shaking, half from anger, half from
-cold, as he gathered the fuel together. When,
-after a long interval of coaxing and cursing,
-the flame quivered up into the twilight, it
-showed him Ada sitting humped at the
-entrance to their shelter; and at sight of her,
-inert and watching him—watching him!—his
-wrath flared sudden and furious.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Have you filled the cookpot?” he asked,
-standing over her. “No?... Then what
-were you doing—sitting there staring while I
-worked?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She began to whimper, “You’re crool to
-me!”—and repeated her parrot-like burden
-of futile suspicion and grievance; that she
-knew he wanted to get her out of the way so
-as he could leave her, and she couldn’t be left
-alone for the night! He had a sense of being
-smothered by her foolish, invertebrate persistence,
-and as he caught her by the shoulders
-he trembled and sputtered with rage.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“God in Heaven, what’s the good of talking
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>to you? If you take me for a liar, you take
-me—that’s all. Do you think I care a curse
-for your opinion?... But one thing’s certain—you’ll
-do what I tell you, and you’ll
-work. Work, do you hear?—not sit in a
-lump and idle and stare while I wait on you!
-Learn to use your silly hands, not expect me
-to light the fire and feed you. And you’ll
-obey, I tell you—you’ll do what you’re told.
-If not—I’ll teach you....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He was wearied, thwarted, wet through and
-unfed since the morning; baulked of fire and
-a meal by the folly that had irked him for
-days; a man living primitively, in contact
-with nature and brought face to face with the
-workings of the law of the strongest. It
-chanced that she had lumped herself down by
-the bundle of osier-rods he had laid together
-for his basket-making; so that when he
-gripped her by the nape of the neck a weapon
-lay ready to his hand. He used it effectively,
-while she wriggled, plunged and howled;
-there was nothing of the Spartan in her temperament,
-and each swooping stroke produced
-a yell. He counted a dozen and then dropped
-her, leaving her to rub and bemoan her smarts
-while he filled the cookpot at the stream.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>When he came back with the cookpot filled,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>her noisy blubbering had died into gulps and
-snuffles. The heat of his anger was likewise
-over, having worked itself off by the mere act
-of chastisement, and with its cooling he was
-conscious of a certain embarrassment. If he
-did not repent he was at least uneasy—not
-sure how to treat her and speak to her—and he
-covered his uneasiness, as best he might, by a
-busy scraping and cleaning of fish and a noisy
-snapping of firewood.... A wiser woman
-might have guessed his embarrassment from
-his bearing and movements and known how
-to wrest an advantage by transforming it into
-remorse; Ada, sitting huddled and smarting
-on her moss-bed, found no more effective protest
-against ill-treatment than a series of unbecoming
-sniffs. With every silent moment
-his position grew stronger, hers weaker; unconsciously
-he sensed her acquiescence in the
-new and brutal relation, and when—over his
-shoulder—he bade her “Come along, if you
-want any supper,” he knew, without looking,
-that she would come at his word, take the
-food that he gave her and eat.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>They discussed the subject once and very
-briefly—at the latter end of a meal consumed
-in silence. A full stomach gives courage and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>confidence; and Ada, having supped and
-been heartened, tried a sulky “You’ve been
-very crool to me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In answer, she was told, “You deserved it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>After this unpromising beginning it took
-her two or three minutes to decide on her next
-observation.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I believe,” she quavered tearfully, “you’ve
-taken the skin off my back.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Nonsense!” he said curtly. Which was
-true.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>The episode marked his acceptance of a new
-standard, his definite abandonment of the code
-of civilization in dealings between woman and
-man. With another wife than Ada the lapse
-into primitive relations would have been less
-swift and certainly far less complete; she was
-so plainly his mental inferior, so plainly
-amenable to the argument of force and no
-other, that she facilitated his conversion to the
-barbaric doctrine of marriage. And his conversion
-was the more thorough and lasting
-from the success of his uncivilized methods of
-ruling a household; where reasoning and
-kindliness had failed of their purpose, the
-sting of the rod had worked wonders....
-Ada sulked through the evening and sniffed
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>herself to sleep; but in the morning, when he
-woke, she had filled the cookpot and was
-busied at the breakfast fire.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>They had adapted themselves to their
-environment, the environment of primitive
-humanity. That morning when he started
-for his snaring he started alone; Ada stayed,
-without remonstrance, to dry moss, collect
-firewood and perform the small duties of the
-camp.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XIV</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>It was a solid fact that from the day of her
-subjection to the rod and rule of her overlord,
-Ada found life more bearable; and watching
-her, at first in puzzlement, Theodore came by
-degrees to understand the reason for the
-change in her which was induced—so it
-seemed—by the threat and magic of an osier-wand.
-In the end he realized that the fundamental
-cause of her sodden, stupid wretchedness
-had been lack of effective interest—and
-that in finding an interest, however humble,
-she had found herself a place in the world.
-Her interest, in the beginning, was nothing
-more exalted than the will to avoid a second
-switching; but, undignified as it was in its
-origin, it implied a stimulus to action which
-had hitherto been wanting, and a process of
-adaptation to the new relationship between
-herself and her man. By accepting him as
-master, with the right unquestioned of reward
-and punishment, she had provided herself with
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>that object in life to which she had been unable
-to attain by the light of her own mentality.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With an eye on the osier-heap she worked
-that she might please and, finding occupation,
-brooded less; learning imperceptibly to look
-on the new world primitive as a reality whose
-hardships could be mitigated by effort, instead
-of an impossible nightmare. As she wrestled
-with present difficulties—the daily tasks she
-dared no longer neglect—the trams, shop-windows
-and chiffons of the past receded on
-her mental horizon. Not, fundamentally,
-that they were any less dear to her; but the
-need of placating an overlord at hand took up
-part of her thoughts and time. Too slothful,
-both in mind and in body, to acquire of her
-own intelligence and initiative the changed
-habits demanded by her changed surroundings,
-she was unconsciously relieved—because instantly
-more comfortable—when the necessary
-habits were forced on her.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With the allotment of her duties and the
-tacit definition of her status that followed on
-the night of her chastisement, their life on the
-whole became easier, better regulated; and
-the mere fact of their frequent separation
-during part of the day made their coming
-together more pleasant. Companionship in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>any but the material sense it was out of her
-power to offer; but she could give her man a
-welcome at the end of the day and take lighter
-work off his hands. Her cooking was always
-a matter of guesswork and to the last she was
-stupid, unresourceful and clumsy with her
-fingers; but she fetched and carried, washed
-pots and garments in the stream, was hewer
-of wood and drawer of water and kept their
-camp clean and in order. In time she even
-learned to take a certain amount of pleasure
-in the due fulfilment of her task-work; when
-Theodore, having discovered a Spanish chestnut-tree
-not far from their dwelling, set her
-the job of storing nuts against the winter, she
-pointed with pride in the evening to the size
-of the heap she had collected.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Now that she was admittedly his underling,
-subdued to his authority, he found it infinitely
-easier to be patient with her many blunders;
-and though there were still moments when her
-brainlessness and limitations galled him to
-anger, on the whole he grew fonder of her—with
-a patronizing, kindly affection. He
-still cherished his plans of exploration unhampered
-by her company but, from pity for
-the fears she no longer dared to talk of, refrained
-from present mention thereof; while
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>the nights were long and dark it would be cruel
-to leave her, and by the time spring came
-round again she might have grown less fearful
-of solitude.... Or, before spring came, the
-world might make a sign and plans of exploration
-be needless.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Meanwhile, resigning himself to his daily
-and solitary round, he worked hard and
-anxiously to provision his household for a
-second winter of loneliness.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>It was when the days were nearly at their
-shortest that the round and tenor of his life
-was broken by the shock of a disturbing knowledge.
-Trudging homewards toward sunset
-on a mild December evening, he came upon his
-wife sitting groaning in the path; she had
-been on her way to the stream for water when
-a paroxysm of sickness overtook her. Since
-the days of starvation he had never seen her
-ill and the violence of the paroxysm frightened
-him; when it was over and she leaned on him
-exhausted as he led her back to their camping-place,
-he questioned her anxiously as to what
-had upset her—had she pain, had she eaten
-anything unwholesome or unusual? She
-shook her head silently in answer to his queries
-till he sat her down by the fire; then, as he
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>knelt beside her, stirring the logs into a blaze,
-she caught his arm suddenly and pressed her
-face tightly against it.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Ow, Theodore, I’m going to ’ave a baiby!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“What?” he said. “What?”—and
-stared at her, his mouth wide open....
-Perhaps she was hurt or disappointed at his
-manner of taking the news; at any rate she
-burst into floods of noisy weeping, rocking
-herself backwards and forwards and hiding
-her face in her hands. He did his best to
-soothe her, stroking her hair and encircling
-her shoulders with an arm; seeking vainly for
-the words that would stay her tears, for something
-that would hearten and uplift her. He
-supposed she was frightened—more frightened
-even than he was; his first bewildered
-thought, when he heard the news, had been
-“What, in God’s name, shall we do?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He drew her head to his shoulder, muttering
-“There, there,” as one would to a child, till her
-noisy demonstrative sobbing died down to an
-intermittent whimper; and when she was
-quieted she volunteered an answer to the
-question his mind had been forming. She
-thought it would be somewhere about five
-months—but it mightn’t be so long, she
-couldn’t be sure. She didn’t know enough
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>about it to be sure—how could she, seeing as it
-was her first?... She had been afraid for
-ever so long now—weeks and weeks—but
-she’d gone on hoping and that was why she
-hadn’t said anything about it before. Now
-there wasn’t any doubt—she wondered he
-hadn’t seen for himself&nbsp;... and she clung to
-him again with another burst of noisy weeping.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“But,” he ventured uncertainly, reaching
-out after comfort, “when it’s over—and
-there’s the baby—you’ll be glad, won’t you?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>His appeal to the maternal instinct had no
-immediate success. Ada protested with yet
-noisier crying that she was bound to die when
-the baby came, so how could she possibly be
-glad? It was all very well for him to talk
-like that—he didn’t have to go through it!
-Lots of women died, even when they had proper
-’orspitals and doctors and nurses....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He listened helplessly, not knowing how to
-take her; until, common sense coming to his
-aid, he fell back on the certainty that exhausting,
-hysterical weeping could by no
-possibility be good for her, rebuked her with
-authority for upsetting herself and insisted on
-immediate self-control. It was well for them
-both that wifely obedience was already a
-habit with Ada; by the change in his tone
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>she recognized an order, pulled herself together,
-rubbed her swollen eyes and even made
-an effort to help with the preparing of supper—whining
-a little, now and again, but checking
-the whine before it had risen to a wail.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She was manifestly cheered by a bowlful
-of hot stew—whereof, though she pushed it
-away at first, she finished by eating sufficiently;
-and, once convinced that the outburst of
-emotion was over, he petted her, though not
-too sympathetically, lest he stirred her again
-to self-pity. She was not particularly responsive
-to his hesitating suggestions anent the
-coming joys of maternity; more successful
-in raising her spirits were his actual encouraging
-pats and caresses, his assumption of confidence
-greater than he felt in the neighbourhood
-of men and women whose hands were
-not turned against their fellows.... He
-realized that, as the suspicion of her motherhood
-grew to a certainty, she had spent long,
-lonely hours oppressed by sheer physical
-terror; and he reproached himself for having
-been carelessly unobservant of a suffering that
-should long ere this have been plain to him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He was longing to be alone and to think
-undistracted; it was a relief to him therefore
-when, warmed, fed, and exhausted by her
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>crying, she began to nod against his shoulder.
-He insisted jestingly on immediate bed, patted
-and pulled at her moss-couch before she lay
-down, kissed her—whereupon she again cried
-a little—and sat beside her, listening, till her
-breathing was even and regular. Once sure
-that she slept, he crept back to the fire to sit
-with his chin on his hands; outside was the
-silence of a still December night, where the
-only sound was the rush of water and the hiss
-and snap of burning logs.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>With his elbows on his knees and his chin on
-his hands, he stared into the fire and the
-future&nbsp;... wondering why it had come as a
-shock to him—this natural, this almost inevitable
-consequence of the life he shared with a
-woman? He found no immediate answer to
-the question; understanding only that the
-animal and unreflecting need which had
-driven them into each other’s arms had
-coloured their whole sex-relation. They had
-lived like the animal, without any thought of
-the future.... Now the civilized man in
-him demanded that his child should be born
-of something more than unreasoning lust of
-the flesh and there stirred in him a craving to
-reverence the mother of his son.... Ada,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>flaccid, lazy, infantile of mind, was more, for
-the moment, than her prosaic, incapable self.
-A rush of tenderness swept over him—for her
-and for the little insistent life which might,
-when its time came, have to struggle into
-being unaided....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With the thought returned the dread which
-had flashed into his mind when Ada revealed
-to him his fatherhood. If their life in hiding
-were destined to continue—if all men within
-reach were as those they had fled from, there
-would come the moment when—he should
-not know what to do!... He remembered,
-years ago, in the rooms of a friend, a medical
-student, how, with prurient youthful curiosity,
-he had picked up a textbook on midwifery—and
-sought feverishly to recall what he had
-read as he fluttered its pages and eyed its
-startling illustrations.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As had happened sometimes in the first days
-of loneliness, the immensity of the world
-overwhelmed him; he sat crouched by his
-fire, an insect of a man, surrounded by unending
-distances. An insect of a man, a pigmy,
-whom nature in her vastness ignored; yet, for
-all his insignificance, the guardian of life, the
-keeper of a woman and her child.... They
-would look to him for sustenance, for guidance
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>and protection; and he, the little man, would
-fend for them—his mate and his young....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Of a sudden he knew himself close kin to the
-bird and beast; to the buck-rabbit diving to
-the burrow where his doe lay cuddled with her
-soft blind babies; to the round-eyed blackbird
-with a beakful gathered for the nest....
-The loving, anxious, protective life of the
-winged and furry little fathers—its unconscious
-sacrifice brought a lump to his throat
-and the world was less alien and dreadful
-because peopled with his brethren—the guardians
-of their mates and their young.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XV</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>It was clear to him, so soon as he knew of his
-coming fatherhood, that, in spite of the drawbacks
-of winter travelling, his long-deferred
-journey of exploration must be undertaken
-at once; the companionship of men, and
-above all of women, was a necessity to be
-sought at the risk of any peril or hardship.
-Hence—with misgiving—he broached the subject
-to Ada next morning; and in the end,
-with smaller opposition than he had looked
-for, her lesser fears were mastered by her
-greater. That the certain future danger of
-unaided childbirth might be spared her, she
-consented to the present misery of days and
-nights of solitude; and together they made
-preparations for his voyage of discovery in
-the outside world and her lonely sojourn in the
-camp.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As he had expected, her first suggestion had
-been that they should break camp and journey
-forth together; but he had argued her firmly
-out of the idea, insisting less on the possible
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>dangers of his journey—which he strove,
-rather, to disguise from her—than on her own
-manifest unfitness for exertion and exposure
-to December weather. Once more the habit
-of wifely obedience came to his assistance and
-her own, and she bowed to her overlord’s decision—if
-tearfully, without temper or sullenness;
-while, the decision once taken, it was
-he, and not Ada, who lay wakeful through the
-night and conjured up visions of possible
-disaster in his absence. His imagination was
-quickened by the new, strange knowledge of
-his responsibility, the protective sense it had
-awakened; and, lying wide awake in the still
-of the night, it was not only possible danger to
-Ada that he dreaded—he was suddenly afraid
-for himself. If misfortune befell him on his
-journey into the unknown, it would be more
-than his own misfortune; on his strength, his
-luck and well-being depended the life of his
-woman and her unborn child. If evil befell
-him and he never came back to them—if he
-left his bones in the beyond.... At the
-thought the sweat broke out on his face and
-he started up shivering on his moss-bed.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He worked through the day at preparations
-for the morning’s departure which, if simple,
-demanded thought and time; saw that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>plentiful provision of food and dry fuel lay
-ready to his wife’s hand, so that small exertion
-would be needed for the making of fire and
-meal. For his own provisioning he filled a
-bag with cooked fish, chestnuts and the like—store
-enough to keep him with care for five or
-six days. All was made ready by nightfall
-for an early start on the morrow; and he was
-awake and afoot with the first reddening of a
-dull December morning. Fearing a breakdown
-from Ada at the last moment, he had
-planned to leave her still asleep; but the
-crackling of a log he had thrown on the embers
-roused her and she sat up, pushing the tumbled
-brown hair from her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You’re gowing?” she asked with a catch
-in her voice; and he avoided her eye as he
-nodded back “Yes,” and slung his bag over
-his shoulder.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Just off,” he told her with blatant cheeriness.
-“Take care of yourself and have a good
-breakfast. There’s water in the cookpot—and
-mind you look after the fire. I’ve put
-you plenty of logs handy—more than you’ll
-want till I come back. Good-bye!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You might say good-bye properly,” she
-whimpered after him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He affected not to hear and strode away
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>whistling; he had purposely tried to make the
-parting as careless and unemotional as his
-daily going forth to work. Purposely, therefore,
-he did not look back until he was too far
-away to see her face; it was only when the
-trees were about to hide him that he turned,
-waved and shouted and saw her lift an arm in
-reply. She did not shout back—he guessed
-that she could not—and when the trees hid
-him he ran for a space, lest the temptation to
-follow and call him back should master her.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He had planned out his journey often
-enough during the last few months; considering
-the drift of the river and lie of the country
-and attempting to reduce them to map-form
-on the soil by the aid of a pointed stick. His
-idea was to make, in the first place, for the
-silent village which had hitherto been the
-limit of his voyaging; and thence to follow
-the road beside the river which in time, very
-surely, must bring him to the haunts of men.
-Somewhere on the banks of the river—beyond
-the tract of devastated ground—must dwell
-those who drank from its waters and fished in
-them; who perhaps—now the night of destruction
-was over and humanity had ceased
-to tear at and prey upon itself—were rebuilding
-their civilization and salving their treasures
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>from ruin!... The air, crisp and frosty,
-set him walking eagerly, and as his body glowed
-from the swiftness of his pace a pleasurable
-excitement took hold of him; his sweating
-fears of the night were forgotten and his brain
-worked keenly, adventurously. Somewhere,
-and not far, were men like unto himself,
-beginning their life and their world anew in
-communities reviving and hopeful. Even, it
-might be—(he began to dream dreams)—communities
-comparatively unscathed; with
-homes and lands unpoisoned, unshattered,
-living ordered and orderly lives!... Some
-such communities the devils of destruction
-must have spared&nbsp;... if a turn in the valley
-should reveal to him suddenly a town like the
-old towns, with men going out and in!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He quickened his pace at the thought and
-the miles went under him happily. He was
-no longer alone; even when he entered the
-long waste of coarse grass and blackened tree
-that lay around the dead village its dreariness
-was peopled with his vivid and hopeful imaginings&nbsp;... of a crowd that hustled to hear
-his story, that questioned and welcomed and
-was friendly—and led him to a house that was
-furnished and whole&nbsp;... where were books
-and good comfort and talk....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>So, in pleasant company, he trudged until
-well after midday; when, perhaps discouraged
-by the beginnings of bodily weariness, perhaps
-affected by the sight of the stark village street—his
-unreasonable hopefulness passed and
-anxiety returned. He grew conscious, suddenly
-and acutely, of his actual surroundings;
-of silence, of the waste he had trodden, of the
-desolation about him, of the unknown loneliness
-ahead. That above all—the indefinite,
-on-stretching loneliness.... He hurried
-through the dumb street nervously, listening
-to his own footsteps—the beat and the crunch
-of them on a frozen road, their echo against
-deserted walls; and at the end of the village
-he turned with relief into the road he had
-marked on his previous visit, the road that
-turned to run by the stream a few yards beyond
-the bridge. It wound dismally into a
-scorched little wood—not one live shoot in it,
-a cemetery of poisoned trees; then on, still
-keeping fairly close to the stream, through the
-same long waste patched with grass and spreading
-weed. The road, though it narrowed and
-was overgrown and crumbling in places, was
-easy enough to follow for the first few hours, but
-he sought in vain for traces of its recent use.
-There was no sign of man or the works of man
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>in use; the only token of his presence were,
-now and again, a fire-blackened cottage, a
-jumble of rusted, twisted ironwork or a skeleton
-with rank grass thrusting through the
-whitened ribs. When the river rounded a
-turn in the hills, the prospect before him was
-even as the prospect behind; a waste and
-silence where corn had once grown and cattle
-pastured.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As the day wore on the heavy silence was
-irksome and more than irksome. It was
-broken only by the sound of his footsteps, the
-whisper of grass in a faint little wind and now
-and again—more rarely—by the chirp and
-flutter of a bird. Long before dusk he began
-to fear the night, to think, with something like
-craving, of the shelter and the fire and the
-woman beside it—that was home; the thought
-of hours of darkness spent alone amongst the
-whitened bones of men and the blackened
-carcases of trees loomed before him as a growing
-threat. He pushed on doggedly, refusing
-himself the spell of rest he needed, in the hope
-that when night came down on him he might
-have left the drear wilderness behind.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was a hope doomed to disappointment;
-the fall of the early December evening found
-him still in the unending waste, and when the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>dusk thickened into darkness he camped,
-perforce, near the edge of the river in the lee of
-a broken wall. The branches of a dead tree
-near by afforded him fuel for the fire that he
-kindled with difficulty with the aid of a rough
-contrivance of flint and steel; and as he
-crouched by the blaze and ate his evening
-ration he scanned the night sky with anxious
-and observant eyes. So far the weather had
-been clear and dry, but he realized the peril
-of a break in it, of a snowstorm in shelterless
-country.... If to-morrow were only as
-to-day—if the waste stretched on without
-trace of man or sign of ending—what then?
-Would it be wise or safe to push on for yet
-another day—leaving home yet further behind
-him? For the journey back the waste must
-be recrossed, in whatever weather the winter
-pleased to send him; traversed by day and
-camped on by night, in hail, in rain, in snow....
-The thought gave him pause since exposure
-might well mean death—and to more
-than himself.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He slept little and brokenly, rousing at
-intervals with a shiver as the fire died down for
-want of tendance; and was on his feet with
-the first grey of morning, trudging forward
-with fear at his heels. It was a fear that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>pressed close on them with the passing of long
-lonely hours; still wintry hours wherethrough
-he strained his eyes for a curl of smoke or a
-movement on the outspread landscape....
-The day was yesterday over again; the same
-pale sky, the dull swollen river that led him on,
-and the endless waste of shallow valley; and
-when night came down again he knew only
-this—a clump of hills that had been distant
-was nearer, and he was a day’s tramp further on
-his way. He settled at sundown in a copse of
-withered trees which afforded him plentiful
-firing if little else in the way of shelter from the
-night; and having kindled a blaze he warmed
-his food, ate and slept—too weary to lie awake
-and brood.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>He had not slept long—for the logs still
-glowed redly and flickered—when he started
-into wakefulness that was instant, complete
-and alert. Something—he knew it—had
-stirred in the silence and roused him; he sat
-up, peered round and listened with the watchful
-terror instinctive in the hunted, be the
-hunted beast or man. For a moment he
-peered round, seeing nothing, hearing nothing
-but the whisper of the fire and the beating of
-his own heart&nbsp;... then, in the blackness,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>two points caught the firelight—eyes!...
-Eyes unmistakable, that glowed and were
-fixed on him....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He stiffened and stared at them, open-mouthed;
-then, as a sudden flicker of the
-dying flame showed the outline of a bearded
-human face, he choked out something inarticulate
-and made to scramble to his feet.
-Swift as was the movement he was still on a
-knee when someone from behind leaped on him
-and pinned both arms to his sides.... As
-he wrestled instinctively other hands grasped
-him; he was the held and helpless captive of
-three or four who clutched him by throat,
-wrist and shoulder....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>By that token he was back among men.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XVI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>When they had him down and helpless at
-their feet, a dry branch was thrust into the
-embers and, as it flamed, held aloft that the
-light might fall upon his face. To him it
-revealed the half-dozen faces that looked down
-at him—weatherworn, hairy and browned
-with dirt, the eyes, for the moment, aglow
-with the pleasure of the hunter who has
-tracked and snared his prey. They held their
-prey and gazed at it, as they would have gazed
-at and measured a beast they had roped into
-helplessness. Satisfaction at the capture
-shone in their faces; the natural and grim
-satisfaction of him who has met and mastered
-his natural enemy.... That, for the moment,
-was all; they had met with a man and overcome
-him. Curiosity, even, would come later.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore, after his first instinctive lunge
-and struggle, lay motionless—flaccid and
-beaten; understanding in a flash that was
-agony that men were still what they had been
-when he fled from them into the wilderness—beast-men
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>who stalked and tore each other.
-In the torchlight the dirty, coarse faces were
-savage and animal; the eyes that glowered
-down at him had the staring intentness of the
-animal.... He expected death from a blow
-or a knife-thrust, and closed his eyes that he
-might not see it coming; and instead saw, as
-plainly as with bodily eyes, a vision of Ada
-by the camp fire, sitting hunched and listening
-for his footstep. Listening for it, staring at
-the dreadful darkness—through night after
-dreadful night.... In a torment of pity for
-his mate and her child he stammered an appeal
-for his life.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“For God’s sake—I wasn’t doing any harm.
-If you’ll only listen—my wife.... All that
-I want....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>If they were moved they did not show it, and
-it may be they were not moved—having lived,
-themselves, through so much of misery and
-bodily terror that they had ceased to respond
-to its familiar workings in others. Fear and
-the expression of fear to them were usual and
-normal, and they listened undisturbed while
-he tried to stammer out his pleading. Not
-only undisturbed but apparently uninterested;
-while he spoke one was twisting the knife from
-his belt and another taking stock of the contents
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>of his food-bag; and he had only gasped
-out a broken sentence or two when the holder
-of the torch—as it seemed the leader—cut him
-short with “Are you alone?”... Once
-satisfied on that head he listened no more, but
-dropped the torch back on to the fire and
-kicked apart the dying embers. The action
-was apparently a sign to move on; the hands
-that gripped Theodore dragged him to his feet
-and urged him forward; and, with a captor
-holding to either arm, he stumbled out of the
-clump of stark trees into the open desert—now
-whitened by a moon at the full.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There was little enough talk amongst his
-captors as, for more than two hours, they
-thrust and guided him along; such muttered
-talk as there was, was not addressed to their
-prisoner and he judged it best to be silent. It
-was—so he guessed—the red shine of his fire
-that had drawn attention to his presence; and,
-the fear of instant death removed, he drew
-courage from the thought that the men who
-held and hurried him must be dwellers in some
-near-by village. Once he had reached it and
-been given opportunity to tell his story and
-explain his presence, they would cease to hold
-him in suspicion—so he comforted himself as
-they strode through the wilderness in silence.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>After an hour of steady tramping they
-turned inland sharply from the river till a mile
-or so brought them to broken, rising ground
-and a smaller stream babbling from the hills.
-They followed its course, for the most part
-steadily uphill, and, at the end of another mile,
-the scorched black stumps gave place to trees
-uninjured—spruce firs in their solemn foliage
-and oaks with their tracery of twigs. A
-copse, then a stretch of short turf and the
-spring of heather underfoot; then down, to
-more trees growing thickly in a hollow—and
-through them a glow that was fire. Then
-figures that moved, silhouetted, in and out of
-the glow and across it; an open space in the
-midst of the trees and hut-shapes, half-seen
-and half-guessed at, in the mingling of flicker
-and deep shadow.... Out of the darkness
-a dog yapped his warning—then another—and
-at the sound Theodore thrilled and quivered
-as at a voice from another world. Now
-and again, while he lived in his wilderness, he
-had heard the sharp and familiar yelp of some
-masterless dog, run wild and hunting for his
-food; but the dog that lived with man and
-guarded him was an adjunct of civilization!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The warning had roused the little community
-before the newcomers emerged from
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>the shadow of the trees; and as they entered
-the clearing and were visible, men hurried
-towards them, shouting questions. Theodore
-found himself the centre of a staring, hustling
-group—which urged him to the fire that it
-might see him the better, which questioned
-his guards while it stared at him.... Here,
-too, was the strange aloofness that refrained
-from direct address; he was gazed at, stolidly
-or eagerly, taken stock of as if he were a beast,
-and his guards explained how and where they
-had found him, as if he himself were incapable
-of speech, as they might have spoken of the
-finding of a dog that had strayed from its
-owner. Perhaps it was uneasiness that held
-him silent, or perhaps he adapted himself
-unconsciously to the general attitude; at
-any rate—as he remembered afterwards—he
-made no effort to speak.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The men and women who crowded round
-him, staring and murmuring, were in number,
-perhaps, between thirty and forty; women
-with matted hair straggling and men unshorn,
-their garments, like his own, a patchwork of
-oddments and all of them uncouth and unclean.
-One woman, he noted, had a child at
-her half-naked breast; a dirty little nursling
-but a few months old, its downy pate crusted
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>with scabs. He stared at it, wondering as to
-the manner of its birth—the mother returning
-his scrutiny with open-mouthed interest until
-shouldered aside without ceremony by a man
-whom Theodore recognized for the leader of
-his band of captors. When they reached the
-shadow of the clump of trees he had stridden
-ahead and vanished, presumably to report and
-seek orders from some higher authority; and
-now, at a word from him, Theodore was again
-jerked forward by his guards and, with the
-crowd breaking and trailing<a id='t215'></a> behind him, was led
-some fifty or sixty yards further to where, on
-the edge of the clump of trees, stood a building,
-a tumbledown cottage. The moon without
-and a fire within showed broken panes stuffed
-with moss and a thatched roof falling to decay;
-inside the atmosphere was foul and stale, and
-heavy with the heat of a blazing wood fire
-which alone gave light to the room.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>By the fire, seated on a backless kitchen
-chair, sat a man, grey of head and bent of
-shoulder; but even in the firelight his eyes
-were keen and steely—large bright-blue eyes
-that shone under thick grey eyebrows. His
-face, with its bright, stubborn eyes and tight
-mouth, was—for all its dirt—the face of a
-man who gave orders; and it did not escape
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>the prisoner that the others—the crowd that
-was thrusting and packing itself into the room—were
-one and all silent till he spoke.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Come nearer,” he said—and on the word,
-Theodore was pushed close to him. “Let
-him go”—and Theodore was loosed. Someone,
-at a sign, lit a stick from the heap beside
-the fire and held it aloft; and for a moment,
-till it flared itself out, there was silence, while
-the old man peered at the stranger. With the
-sudden light the hustling and jostling ceased,
-and the crowd, like Theodore, waited on the
-old man’s words.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Tell me,” at last came the order, “what
-you were doing here. Tell me everything”—and
-he lifted a dirty lean finger like a threat—“what
-you were doing on our land, where you
-came from, what you want?... and speak
-the truth or it will be the worse for you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore told him; while the steel-blue
-eyes searched his face as well as they might in
-the semi-darkness and the half-seen crowd
-stood mute. He told of his life as it had been
-lived with Ada; of their complete separation
-from their fellows for the space of nearly two
-years; of the coming of the child and the
-consequent need of help for his wife—conscious,
-all the time, not only of the questioning,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>unshrinking eyes of his judge but of the
-other eyes that watched him suspiciously from
-the corners and shadows of the room. Two or
-three times he faltered in his telling, oppressed
-by the long, steady silence; for throughout
-there was no comment, no word of interest or
-encouragement—only once, when he paused
-in the hope of encouragement, the old man
-ordered “Go on!”... He went on, striving
-to steady his voice and pleading against he
-knew not what of hostility, suspicion and fear.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“... And so,” he ended uncertainly,
-“they found me. I wasn’t doing any harm....
-I suppose they saw my fire?...”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>From someone in the darkness behind him
-came a grunt that might indicate assent—then,
-again, there was silence that lasted....
-The dumb, heavy threat of it was suddenly
-intolerable and Theodore broke it with vehemence.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“For God’s sake tell me what you’re going
-to do! It’s not much I ask and it’s not for
-myself I ask it. If you can’t help me yourselves
-there must be other people who can—tell
-me where I am and where I ought to go.
-My wife—she must have help.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There was no actual response to his outburst,
-but some of the half-seen figures stirred and he
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>heard a muttering in the shadow that he took
-for the voices of women.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Tell me where I am,” he repeated, “and
-where I can go for help.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was the first question only that was
-answered.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You are on our land.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Your land—but where is it? In what part
-of England?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I don’t know,” said the old man and
-shrugged his lean shoulders. “But you
-haven’t any right on it. It’s ours.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He pushed back his chair and stood up to
-his full, tall height; then, raising his hand,
-addressed the assembly of his followers.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You have all of you heard what he said
-and know what he wants. Now let me hear
-what you think. Say it out loud and not in
-each other’s ears.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He dropped his arm and stood waiting a
-reply—and after a moment one came from the
-back of the room.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It’s winter,” said a man’s voice, half-sulky,
-half-defiant, “and we’ve hardly enough
-left for ourselves. We don’t want any more
-mouths here—we’ve more than we can fill as
-it is.” A murmur of agreement encouraged
-him and he went on—louder and pushing
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>through the crowd as he spoke. “We fend
-for our own and he must fend for his. He
-ought to think himself lucky if we let him go
-after we’ve taken him on our land. What
-business had he there?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>This time the murmur of agreement was
-stronger and a second voice called over it:</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“If we catch him here again he won’t get
-off so easily!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The assent that followed was more than
-assent; applause that swelled and grew
-almost clamorous. The old man stilled it
-with a lifting of his knotted hand.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Then you won’t have him here? You
-don’t want him?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The “No” in answer was vigorous; refusal,
-it seemed, was unanimous. Theodore
-tried to speak, to explain that all he asked&nbsp;... but again the knotted hand was lifted.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“And are you—for letting him go?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The words dropped out slowly and were
-followed by a hush—significant as the question
-itself.... This much was clear to the
-listener: that behind them lay a fear and a
-threat. The nature of the threat could be
-guessed at—since they would not keep him
-and dared not let him go; but where and what
-was the motive for the fear that had prompted
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>the slow, sly question and the uneasy silence
-that followed it?... He heard his own
-heart-beats in the long uneasy silence—while
-he sought in vain for the reason of their dread
-of one man and tried in vain to find words.
-It seemed minutes—long minutes—and not
-seconds till a voice made answer from the
-shadows:</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Not if it isn’t safe.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>And at the words, as a signal, came voices
-from this side and that—speech hurried, excited
-and tumultuous. It wasn’t safe—what
-did they know of him and how could they
-prove his story true? He might be a spy—now
-he knew where to find them, knew they
-had food, he might come back and bring others
-with him! When he tried to speak the voices
-grew louder, over-shouted him—and one man
-at his side, gesticulating wildly, cried out that
-they would be mad to let him go, since they
-could not tell how much he knew. The phrase
-was taken up, as it seemed in panic—by man
-after man and woman after woman—they
-could not tell how much he knew! They
-pressed nearer as they shouted, their faces
-closing in on him—spitting, working mouths
-and angry eyes. They were handling him
-almost; and when once they handled him—he
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>knew it—the end would be sure and swift.
-He dared not move, lest fingers went up to
-his throat. He dared not even cry out.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>It was the old man who saved him with
-another call for silence. Not out of mercy—there
-was small mercy in the lined, dirty face—but
-because, it seemed, there was yet
-another point to be considered.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“If they came again”—he jerked his head
-towards the open—“we should be a man the
-stronger. Now they are stronger than we are—by
-nearly a dozen....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Apparently the argument had weight, for its
-hearers stood uncertain and arrested—and
-instinct bade Theodore seize on the moment
-they had given him.... What he said in
-the beginning he could not remember—how he
-caught their attention and held it—but when
-cooler consciousness returned to him they
-were listening while he bargained for his life....
-He bargained and haggled for the right
-to live—offering goods and sweat and muscle
-in exchange for a place on the earth. He was
-strong and would work for them; he could
-hunt and fish and dig; he would earn by his
-labour every mouthful that fell to him, every
-mouthful that fell to his wife.... More, he
-had food of his own laid away for the winter
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>months—dried fish and nuts and the store of
-fruit he had salved and hoarded from the
-autumn. These all could be fetched and
-shared if need be.... He bribed them while
-they haggled with their eyes. Let them come
-with him—any of them—and prove what he
-said; he had more than enough—let them
-come with him.... When he stopped, exhausted
-and sobbing for breath, the extreme
-of the danger had passed.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“If he has food,” someone grunted—and
-Theodore, turning to the unseen speaker, cried
-out—“I swear I have! I swear it!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He hoped he had won; and then knew
-himself in peril again when the man who had
-raised the cry before repeated doggedly that
-they could not tell how much he knew....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Take him away,” said the old man suddenly.
-“You take him—you two”—and he
-pointed twice. “Keep him while we talk—till
-I send for you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>At least it was reprieve and Theodore knew
-himself in safety, if only for a passing moment.
-For their own comfort, if not for his, his guards
-escorted him to the fire in the open, where they
-crouched down, stolid and watchful, Theodore
-between them—exhausted by emotion and
-flaccid both in body and mind.... There
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>was a curious relief in the knowledge that he
-had shot his last bolt and could do nothing
-more to save himself; that whatever befell
-him—release or swift death—was a happening
-beyond his control. No effort more was required
-of him and all that he could do was to
-wait.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He waited dumbly, in the end almost
-drowsily, with his head bent forward on his
-knees.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XVII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>After minutes, or hours, a hand was laid on
-his shoulder and shook it; he raised his eyes
-stupidly, saw his guards already on their feet
-and with them a third man—sent, doubtless,
-with orders to summon them. He rose, knowing
-that a decision had been made, one way
-or another, but still oddly numb and unmoved....
-The two men with him thrust
-a way into the crowded little room, elbowing
-their fellows aside till they had pushed and
-dragged their charge to the neighbourhood of
-the fireplace and set him face to face with his
-judge. As they fell back a pace or two—as
-far as the crowding of the room allowed—someone
-again lit a branch at the fire and held
-it up that the light might fall upon the
-prisoner.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>To Theodore the action brought with it a
-conviction that his sentence was death and
-his manner of receiving it a diversion for the
-eyes of the beholders.... The old man was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>waiting, intent, with his chin on his hand,
-that he might lengthen the diversion by
-lengthening the suspense of the prisoner....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>When he spoke at last his words were a
-surprise—instead of a judgment, came a
-query.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“What were you?” he asked suddenly;
-and, at the unexpected, irrelevant question,
-Theodore, still numb, hesitated—then repeated
-mechanically, “What was I?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“In the days before the Ruin—what were
-you? What sort of work did you do? How
-did you earn your living?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He knew that, pointless as the question
-seemed, there was something that mattered
-behind it; his face was being searched for the
-truth and the ring of listeners had ceased to
-jostle and were waiting in silence for the
-answer.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I—I was a clerk,” he stammered, bewildered.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“A clerk,” the other repeated—as it seemed
-to Theodore suspiciously. “There were a
-great many different kinds of clerks—they
-did all sorts of things. What did you do?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I was a civil servant,” Theodore explained.
-“A clerk in the Distribution Office—in Whitehall.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>“That means you wrote letters—did accounts?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes. Wrote letters, principally&nbsp;... and
-filed them. And drew up reports....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The question sent him back through the
-ages. In the eye of his mind he saw his
-daily office—the shelves, the rows of files,
-interminable files—and himself, neat-suited,
-clean-fingered, at his desk. Neat-suited,
-clean-fingered and idling through a short day’s
-work; with Cassidy’s head at the desk by the
-window—and Birnbaum, the Jew boy, who
-always wore a buttonhole.... He brought
-himself back with an effort, from then to
-now—from the seemly remembrance of the
-life bureaucratic to a crowd of evil-smelling
-savages....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You were always that—just a clerk?
-You have never had any other way of earning
-a living?”... And again he knew that the
-answer mattered, that his “No!” was listened
-for intently.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You weren’t ever an engineer?” the old
-man persisted. “Or a scientific man of any
-kind?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No,” Theodore repeated, “I have never
-had anything to do with either engineering or
-science. When I left the University I went
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>straight into the Distribution Office and I
-stayed there till the war.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“University!” The word (so it seemed to
-him) was snatched at. “You’re a college
-man?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I was at Oxford,” Theodore told him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“A college man—then they must have
-taught you science. They always taught it at
-colleges. Chemistry and that sort of thing—you
-know chemistry?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In the crowd was a sudden thrill that was
-almost murmur; and Theodore hesitated
-before he answered, his tongue grown dry in
-his mouth.... Were these people, these outcasts
-from civilization, hoping to find in him
-a guide and saviour who should lighten the
-burden of their barbarism by leading them
-back to the science which had once been a part
-of their daily life, but of which they had no
-practical knowledge?... If so, how far was
-it safe to lie to them? and how far, having
-lied, could he disguise his dire ignorance of
-processes mechanical and chemical? What
-would they hope from him, expect in the way
-of achievement and proof?... Miracles, perhaps—sheer
-blank impossibilities....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Science—they taught it you,” the old man
-was reiterating, insisting.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>“Yes, they taught it me,” he stammered,
-delaying his answer. “That is to say, I
-used to attend lectures....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Then you know chemistry? Gases and
-how to make them?... And machines—do
-you know about machines? You could help
-us with machines—tell us how to make one?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The dirty old face peered up at him, waiting
-for his “Yes”; and he knew the other
-faces that he could not see were peering from
-the shadow with the same odd, sinister eagerness.
-All waiting, expectant.... The temptation
-to lie was overwhelming and what held
-him back was no scruple of conscience but the
-brute impossibility of making good his claim
-to a knowledge he did not possess. The utter
-ignorance betrayed by the form of the old
-man’s speech—“You know chemistry—do
-you know about machines?”—would make no
-allowance for the difficulty of applying knowledge
-and see no difference between theory
-and instant practice.... In his hopelessness
-he gave them the truth and the truth only.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I have told you already I am not an
-engineer—I have never had any training in
-mechanics. As for chemistry—I had to attend
-lectures at school and college. But that was
-all—I never really studied it and I’m afraid
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>I remember very little—almost nothing that
-would be of any practical use to you.... I
-don’t know what you want but, whatever it is,
-it would need some sort of apparatus—a
-chemist has to have his tools like other men.
-Even if I were a trained chemist I should need
-those—even if I were a trained chemist I
-couldn’t separate gases with my bare hands.
-For that sort of thing you need a laboratory—a
-workshop—the proper appliances.... I’ll
-work for you in any way that’s possible—any
-way—but you mustn’t expect impossibilities,
-chemistry and mechanics from a man who
-hasn’t been trained in them.... And why
-should you expect me to do what you can’t
-do yourselves—why should you? Is it
-fair?...”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There was no immediate answer, but suddenly
-he knew that the silence around him
-had ceased to be threatening and tense. The
-old man’s eyes had left his own; they were
-moving round the room and searching, as it
-seemed, for assent.... In the end they came
-back to Theodore—and judgment was given.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“If you are what you say you are, we will
-take you; but if you have lied to us and you
-know what is forbidden, we shall find you out
-sooner or later and, as sure as you stand there,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>we will kill you. If you are what you say you
-are—a plain man like us and without devil’s
-knowledge—you may come to us and bring
-your woman, if she also is without devil’s
-knowledge. That is, if you can feed her; we
-have only enough for ourselves. And from
-this day forward you will be our man; and
-to-morrow you will take the oath to be what
-we are and live as we do, and be our man
-against all our enemies and perils. Are you
-agreed to that?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He was saved and Ada with him—so much
-he knew; but as yet it was not clear what had
-saved him. He was to be their man—take an
-oath and be one with them—and there was the
-phrase “devil’s knowledge,” twice repeated....
-He stared stupidly at the man who had
-granted his life—realizing that his ordeal was
-over only when the packed room emptied
-itself and the old man turned back to his fire.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XVIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>It was the phrase “devil’s knowledge” that,
-when his first bewilderment was over, gave
-Theodore the clue to the meaning of the scene
-he had lived through and the outlook of those
-whose man he would become on the morrow.
-That and the sudden memory of Markham&nbsp;... on the crest of the centuries, on the night
-when the crest curled over...</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He was so far taken into tribal fellowship
-that he had ceased to be openly a prisoner;
-but the two men who, for the rest of the night,
-shared with him the shelter of a lean-to hut,
-took care to bestow themselves between their
-guest and the entrance. He got little out of
-them in the way of enlightenment, for they
-were asleep almost as they flung themselves
-down on their moss; but for hours, while they
-snored, Theodore lay open-eyed, piecing together
-his fragmentary information of the
-world into which he had strayed.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Without devil’s knowledge”—that, if he
-understood aright, was the qualification for
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>admission to the life that had survived
-disaster. “Devil’s knowledge” being—if he
-was not mad—the scientific, mechanical,
-engineering lore which was the everyday
-acquirement of thousands on thousands of
-ordinary civilized men. The everyday acquirements
-of ordinary men were anathema;
-if he was not mad, his own life had been granted
-him for the reason only that he was unskilled
-and devoid of them. Ignorant, even as the
-men who spared him, of practical science and
-mechanics—a plain man, like unto them....
-Ignorance was prized here, esteemed as a
-virtue—the old man’s query, “You’re a college
-man?” had been accusation disguised.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In a flash it was clear to him, and he saw
-through the farce whereby he had been tested
-and tempted; understood the motive that had
-prompted its cruel low cunning and all that
-the cunning implied of acceptance of barbarism,
-insistence on it.... What these
-outcasts, these remnants of humanity feared
-above all things was a revival of the science,
-the mechanical powers, that had wrecked
-their cities, their houses and their lives and
-made them—what they were.... In knowledge
-was death and in ignorance alone was a
-measure of peace and security; hence, fearing
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>lest he was of those who knew too much, they
-had tempted him to confess to forbidden knowledge,
-to boast of it—that, having boasted,
-they might kill him without mercy, make an
-end of his wits with his life. In the torments
-inflicted by science destructive they had
-turned upon science and renounced it; and,
-that their terrors might not be renewed in the
-future, they were setting up against it an
-impassable barrier of ignorance. They had
-put devil’s knowledge behind them—with
-intention for ever.... If when they questioned
-him and led him on, he had yielded to
-the natural impulse to lie, they would have
-knocked him on the head—like vermin—without
-scruple; and the sweat broke out
-on him as he remembered how nearly he had
-lied....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He sat up, sweating and staring at darkness,
-and thrust back the hair from his forehead....
-He was back among men—who, of set
-purpose and deliberately, had turned their
-faces from the knowledge their fathers had
-acquired by the patience and toil of generations!
-Who, of set purpose and deliberately,
-sought to filch from their children the heritage
-of the ages, the treasure of the mind of man!...
-That was what it meant—the treasure of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>the mind of man! Renunciation of all that
-long generations had striven for with patience
-and learning and devotion.... The impossibility
-and the treason of it—to know nothing,
-to forget all their fathers had won for them....
-He remembered old talk of education as
-a birthright and the agitations of reformers
-and political parties. To this end.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Who were they, he asked himself, these
-people who had made a decision so terrible—what
-manner of men in the old life? Now
-they were seeking to live as the beasts live,
-and not only the world material had died to
-them, but the world of human aspiration....
-To this they had come, these people who once
-were human—the beast in them had conquered
-the brain&nbsp;... and like fire there blazed into
-his brain the commandment: “Thou shalt
-not eat of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge!
-Thou shalt not eat&nbsp;... lest ye die.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The command, the prohibition, had suddenly
-a new significance. Was this, then, the
-purport of a legend hitherto meaningless?
-Was this the truth behind the childish symbol?
-The deadly truth that knowledge is power of
-destruction—power of destruction too great
-for the human, the fallible, to wield?...
-Odd that he had never thought of it before—that,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>familiar all his life with a deadly truth,
-he had read it as primitive childishness!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Of the Tree of the Knowledge of good
-and evil thou shalt not eat&nbsp;... lest ye
-die....”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He sat numbly repeating the words half
-aloud till there flashed into his brain a memory,
-a vision of Markham. In his room off Great
-Smith Street on the night when war was declared—talking
-rapidly with his mouth full of
-biscuit. “Only one thing I’m fairly certain
-about—I ought to have been strangled at
-birth.... If the human animal must fight, it
-should kill off its scientific men. Stamp out
-the race of ’em!”... What was that but a
-paraphrase, a modern application of the command
-laid upon Adam. “Of the Tree of the
-Knowledge of good and evil thou shalt not
-eat&nbsp;... lest ye die.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>To his first impulse—of amazement and
-shrinking, as from treason—succeeded understanding
-of the outlook of these men and their
-decision. More, he wondered why, even in
-the worst of his despair, he had always believed
-in the persistence, the re-birth, of the civilization
-that had bred him.... These people—he
-saw it—were logical, as Markham had been
-logical—were wise after the event as Markham
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>had been wise before it; and it amazed him
-that in his porings and guessings at a world
-reviving he had never hit upon their simple
-solution of the eternal problem of war. Markham’s
-solution; which, till this moment, he
-had not taken literally.... “You can’t
-combine the practice of science and the art
-of war; in the end it’s one or the other. We,
-I think, are going to prove that—very definitely.”
-One or the other. The fighting
-instinct or knowledge!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Man, because he fights, must deny himself
-knowledge—which is power over the forces
-of nature; the secrets of nature must be
-veiled from him by his own ignorance—lest,
-when the impulse to strife wells up in him,
-they serve him for infinite destruction. These
-renegades, in agony, had made confession of
-their sin, of the corporate sin of a world;
-had faced the brutality of their own nature;
-had denied themselves the fruit of the Tree
-of Knowledge, and led themselves out of
-temptation. Since fight they must, being
-men with men’s passions, they would limit
-their powers of destruction.... So he read
-their strange self-denying ordinance.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The thought led him on to wonder whether
-they were alone in their self-denying ordinance....
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>Surely not—unless they lived hidden, in
-complete isolation, out of contact with others
-of their kind. And obviously they did not
-live isolated; they had spoken of others who
-were stronger, and of land that was theirs—implying
-a system of boundary and penalty
-for trespass and theft. Further, the phrase
-“against all enemies” indicated at least a
-possibility of the contact that was bloodshed—yet
-enemies who had not renounced the
-advantage of mechanical and scientific
-knowledge would be enemies who could
-overwhelm at the first encounter a community
-fighting as barbarians.... What,
-then, was their relation to a world more
-civilized and communities that had not
-renounced?...</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In the end, from sheer exhaustion, he ceased
-to surmise and argue with himself—and slept
-suddenly and heavily, huddling for warmth
-on his moss-bed against the body of his nearest
-gaoler.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>It was a thrust from a foot that awakened
-him, and he crawled out shivering into the
-half-light of dawn and the chill of a frostbitten
-morning; the camp was alive and
-emerging from its shelters, the women already
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>occupied in cooking the morning meal. Theodore
-and his guardians shared a bowl of steaming
-mess; a mingling of potatoes, dried greenstuff
-and gobbets of meat which he guessed to
-be rat-flesh. They shared it wolfishly, each
-man eating fast lest his fellows had more than
-their portion; the meal over, the bowl was
-flung back to the women for washing, and his
-gaolers—his mates now—relaxed; there was
-no further reason for unfriendliness and they
-were willing enough to be communicative,
-with the slow uncommunicativeness of men
-who have little but their daily round to talk
-about.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>They had neighbours, yes—at least what
-you might call neighbours; there was a
-settlement, much the same size as their own,
-some three or four hours’ journey away, on
-the other side of the river—that was the
-nearest, and the tribesmen met sometimes but
-not often. Being questioned, they explained
-that there was frequent trouble about fishing
-rights—where our stretch of river ended and
-theirs began; trouble and, now and then,
-fighting. Yes, of course, they lived as we do—how
-else should they live?... They were
-better off for shelter, having taken possession
-of a village—but we, in the hills, were much
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>safer, not so easy to attack or surprise....
-No, they were not the only ones; on this side
-the river, but farther away, was another settlement,
-a larger one; there had been trouble
-with them, too, as they were very short of
-food and sent out raiding parties. They had
-fallen on the village across the water, carried
-off some of its winter stock and set light to
-three or four houses; later—a month ago—they
-had fallen on us, less successfully
-because we were warned and on the look-out
-for them.... That was why we always
-have watchers at night—the watchers who
-saw your fire....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Even from a first halting conversation with
-men who found anything but sheer statement
-of fact a difficulty, Theodore was able to construct
-in outline the common life of this new
-humanity, its politics, internal and external.
-The constitution of the tribe—the origin and
-keystone of the social system—had been, in
-the beginning, as much a matter of reckless
-chance as the mating of himself and Ada;
-small wandering groups of men, who had come
-alive through the agony of war and famine, had
-been knit together by a common need or a
-terror of loneliness, and insensibly welded into
-a whole, an embryo community. It was a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>matter of chance, too, in the beginning whether
-the meeting with another little wandering
-group would result in bloodshed for the possession
-of food—sometimes for the possession
-of women—or a welcome and the joining up of
-forces; but to the joining-up process there
-was always a limit—the limit of resources
-available. A tribe which desired to augment
-its strength as against its rivals was faced
-with the difficulty of filling many hungry
-mouths.... Their own community had once
-been faced with such a difficulty and had
-solved it by driving out three or four of its
-weaker members.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“What became of them?” asked Theodore,
-and was told no one knew. It was winter when
-food ran short and they were driven out—and
-some of them had come back after nightfall to
-the edge of the camp and cried to be allowed
-in again. Till the men ran out and drove them
-off with sticks and stone-throwing. After
-that they went and were no more seen....
-Later, in the summer, there had broken out a
-sickness which again reduced their numbers.
-When the wind blew for long up the valley it
-brought a bad smell with it—and flies. That
-was what caused the sickness. There had
-been a great deal of it; it was said that in a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>village lower down the river more than half
-the inhabitants had died.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He surmised as he listened—and realized
-later—that it was the need of avoiding constant
-strife that had broken the nomadic habit
-and solidified the wandering and fluid groups
-into tribes with a settled dwelling-place. Until
-a limit was set to their wanderings, groups and
-single nomads drifted hither and thither in the
-search for food, snarling at each other when
-they met; the end of sheer anarchy came with
-appropriation, by a particular group, of a
-stretch of country which gave some promise
-of supporting it. That entailed the institution
-of communal property, the setting up of a
-barrier against the incursions of others—a
-barrier which was also a limit beyond which
-the group must not trespass on the land and
-possessions of others.... Swiftly, insensibly
-and naturally, there was growing up a system
-of boundaries; boundaries established, in the
-first place, by chance, by force or rough custom
-and defined later by meetings between headmen
-of villages. Within its boundaries each
-tribe or group existed as best it might, overstepping
-its limits at its peril; but disputing
-at intervals—as men have disputed since the
-world began—the precise terms of the agreement
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>that defined its limits. And, agreements
-being verbal only, there were many occasions
-for dispute.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As he questioned his new-made comrades
-and heard their answers, there died in Theodore’s
-heart the hope that these people into
-whose midst he had stumbled—these people
-living like the beasts of the field—were but
-dwellers on the outskirts of a world reviving
-and civilized. Of men existing in any other
-fashion than their own he heard no mention,
-no rumour; there was talk only of a camp
-here and a village there—where men fished
-and hunted and scratched the ground that
-they might find the remains of other’s sowing.
-The formal intercourse between the various
-groups was suspicious and slyly diplomatic,
-an affair of the meetings of headmen; though
-now and again, as life grew more certain, there
-was trading in the form of barter. One community
-had settled in a stretch of potato-fields,
-left derelict, which, even under rough
-and unskilled cultivation, yielded more than
-sufficient for its needs; another, by some
-miracle, had possessed itself of goats—three
-or four in the first instance, found wild among
-the hills, escaped from the hungry, indiscriminate
-slaughter which had bared the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>countryside of cattle. These they bred, were
-envied for, guarded with arms in their hands
-and occasionally bartered; not without bitter
-resentment and dispute at the price their
-advantage exacted.... But of those who
-possessed more than goats or the leavings of
-other men’s fields, who lived as men had been
-wont to live in the days when the world was
-civilized—not a trace, not so much as a word!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Direct questioning brought only a shake of
-the head. Towns—yes, of course there were
-towns—further on; but no one lived in
-them—you could not get a living out of pavements,
-bricks and hard roads.... Up the
-river—the way he had come—was a stretch
-of dead land where nothing grew and no one
-lived; he had seen it for himself and knew
-best what lay beyond it. Lower down the
-river were the other camps like their own; so
-many they knew of, and others they had heard
-of further off. In the distance—on the other
-side of those hills—there had been a large
-town in the old days; ruins of it—miles of
-streets and ruins—were lying on both banks
-of the river. They themselves had never
-entered it—only seen it from a distance—but
-those who lived nearer had said it was mostly
-in ruins and that bodies were thick in the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>streets. In the summer, they had heard, it
-was forbidden to enter it; because it was
-those who had gone there in search of plunder
-who first were smitten with the sickness which
-spread from their camp along the valley. It
-was the wind blowing over the town—so they
-said—which brought the bad smell and the
-flies.... No, they did not know its name;
-had never heard it.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>It was when he turned from the present to
-the past that Theodore found himself against
-a barrier, the barrier unexpected of a plain
-unwillingness to talk of the world that had
-vanished. When spoken of at all it was
-spoken of carefully, with precaution and
-choosing of phrase, and no man gave easily
-many details of his life before the Ruin.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>At first the strange attitude puzzled him—he
-could make nothing of the odd, suspicious
-glances whereby questioning was met, the
-attempt to parry it, the cautious, non-committal
-replies; it was only by degrees that he
-grasped their significance and understood how
-complete was that renunciation of the past
-which these people had imposed upon themselves.
-Forgetfulness—so Theodore learned in
-time—was more than a precaution; it had
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>been preached in the new-born world as a
-religion, accepted as an article of faith. The
-prophet who had expressed the common need
-and instinct in terms of religion had in due
-time made his appearance; a wild-eyed,
-eloquent scarecrow of a man, aflame with
-belief in his sacred mission and with loathing
-for the sins of the world. Coming from no one
-knew where, he carried his gospel through a
-land left desolate, proclaiming his creed of
-salvation through ignorance and crying woe
-on the yet unrepentant sinners who should
-seek to preserve the deadly knowledge that
-had brought God’s judgment on the world!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The seed of his doctrine fell on fruitful soil—on
-brutalized minds in starved bodies; the
-shaggy, half-naked enthusiast was hailed as a
-law-giver, saint and saviour, and the harvest
-of souls was abundant. On every side the
-faith was embraced with fervour; the bitter
-experience of the convert confirming the
-prophet’s inspiration. Tribe after tribe reconciled
-itself to a God who had turned in wrath
-from His creatures, offended by their upstart
-pretensions and encroachments on the power
-of Deity. Tribe after tribe made confession
-of its sin, grovelling at the feet of a jealous
-Omnipotence and renouncing the works of the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>devil and the deadly pride of the intellect; and
-in tribe after tribe there were hideous little
-massacres—blood-offerings, sweet and acceptable
-sacrifice, that should purify mankind
-from its guilt. Those who were known to have
-pried into the hidden secrets of Omnipotence
-were cut off in their wickedness, lest they
-should corrupt others—were dragged to the
-feet of the prophet and slaughtered, lest they
-should defile humanity anew through the
-pride of the intellect and the power of their
-devil-sent knowledge. Men known to be
-learned or suspected of learning; men possessed
-of no more than mechanical training
-and skill.... There was a story of one whom
-certain in the tribe would have spared—a
-doctor of medicine who had comforted many
-in the past. But the prophet cried out that
-this uttermost sacrifice, too, was demanded
-of them till, frenzied with piety, they turned
-on their healer and beat out the brains that
-had served them.... And over the bodies
-had followed an orgy of repentance, of groaning
-and revivalistic prayer; the priest blessing
-the sacrifice with uplifted arms and calling
-down the vengeance of God Most High upon
-those who should be false to the vow they had
-sworn in the blood of sinners. He chanted
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>the vow, they repeating it after him; taking
-oath to renounce the evil thing, to stamp it
-out wherever met with, in man, in woman, in
-child.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The prophet (so Theodore learned) had continued
-his wanderings, preaching the gospel
-as he went—through village after village and
-settlement after settlement, till he passed
-beyond the confines of report. He had bidden
-his followers expect his return; but whether
-he came again or not, his doctrine was firmly
-established. He had left behind him the germs
-of a priesthood, a tradition and a Law for his
-converts—a Law which included the penalty
-of death for those who should fail to keep the
-vow....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Lest it should fade from their minds, there
-were days set apart for renewal of the vow,
-for public, ceremonial repetition of the creed
-and doctrine of ignorance; and, with the
-Ruin an ever-present memory to the remnant
-of humanity, the tendency was to interpret
-the Law with all strictness—there were
-devotees and fanatics who watched with a
-mingling of animal fear and religious hate for
-signs of relapse and backsliding. Denunciation
-was of all things dreaded; and outspoken
-regret for a world that had passed had more
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>than once been pretext for denunciation. To
-dwell in speech on the doings of that world
-might be interpreted—had been interpreted—as
-a hankering after the Thing Forbidden, a
-desire to revive the Accursed.... Hence the
-parrying of questions, the barrier of protective
-silence which the newcomer broke through
-with difficulty.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>It took more than a day for Theodore to
-understand his new world and its meaning, to
-grasp its social system and civil and religious
-polity; but at the end of one day he knew
-roughly the conditions in which he was
-destined to live out the rest of his life.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Not that, in the beginning, he admitted
-that so he must live; it was long—many
-years—before he resigned himself to the
-knowledge that his limits, till death released
-him, were the narrow limits of his tribe. For
-years he held secretly—but none the less fast—to
-the hope of a civilization that must one day
-reveal itself, advance and overwhelm his
-barbarians. For years he strained his eyes
-for the coming of its pioneers, its saviours; it
-was long—very long—before he gave up his
-hopes and faced the certainty that, if the world
-he had known continued to exist, it existed
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>too feebly and too far away to stretch out to
-himself and his surroundings.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There were times when the longing for it
-flared and burned in him, and he sought
-desperately for traces of the world he had
-known—running hither and thither in search
-of it. Under pretext of a hunting expedition
-he would absent himself from the tribe, and
-trespass—often at the imminent risk of death—on
-the territory of alien communities; returning,
-after days, no nearer to his goal and
-no wiser for his stealthy prowlings. The life
-of alien communities, the prospect revealed
-from strange hills, was, to all intents and purposes,
-the life and outlook of his tribe....
-He would question the occasional stranger
-from a distant village, in the hope of at least
-a word, a rumour—a rumour that might give
-guidance for further and more hopeful search.
-But those who came from distant villages
-spoke only of villages more distant; of other
-hunting-grounds, of other tribal feuds, of
-other long stretches of ruin.... The world,
-so far as it came within his ken, was cut to
-one pattern, the pattern of a cowed and brutalized
-man, who bent his face to the stubborn
-ground and forgot the cunning of his fathers.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XIX</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>The actual and formal ceremony of his acceptance
-into the little community took place
-after night had fallen; deferred to that hour
-in part because, with nightfall, the day’s
-labour ceased and the fishermen and snarers
-of birds had returned to their dwelling-place—and
-in part because darkness, lit only by
-the glow of torches and wood fires, lent an
-added solemnity to the rite.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Earlier in the day the new tribesman had
-been summoned to a second interview with
-the headman. The old man questioned him
-shrewdly enough as to his road, the nature of
-his winter food store and the feasibility of
-transporting it; and it was settled finally
-that Theodore should depart with the morning
-accompanied by another from the tribe.
-The pair could row and tow up the river a
-flat-bottomed boat which was one of the community’s
-possessions; and as his own camp
-was only a few hours’ tramp from navigable
-water, he and his companion should be able,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>with a day or two, to make three or four
-journeys from camp to riverside and load the
-boat with as much as it would carry of his
-hoard. If the weather favoured—if snow
-held off and storm—they might return within
-five or six days.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>His instructions received, he was dismissed;
-and bidden, since he would need a hut for
-himself and his wife, to set about its building
-at once. A site was allotted him on the edge
-of the copse that was the centre of the tribal
-life and he was granted the use of some of the
-tools that were common property—an axe,
-a mallet, and a spade. By the time the sun
-set his dwelling had made some progress;
-stakes had been driven in to serve as corner-posts,
-and logs laid from one to the other.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With dusk, by twos and threes, the men had
-drifted back to the village and the women were
-busied with the cooking of supper at fires that
-blazed in the open, so long as the weather was
-dry, as well as at the mud-built ovens that
-sheltered a flame from the wind. When they
-kept their men waiting for the plates and
-bowls of food there was impatient shouting
-and now and then a blow.... Theodore, as
-he ate his supper, noted suddenly that though
-one or two of the women carried babies, the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>camp contained no child that was older than
-the crawling stage—no child that survived
-the Disaster.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The night was rainless, and when the meal
-was over the men, for the most part, lay or
-crouched near their fires—some torpid, some
-talking with their women; but they roused
-and stood upright when the ceremony began,
-and the headman, calling for silence, beckoned
-with a dirty claw to Theodore.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Here!” said Theodore and went to him.
-The old man was seated on the trunk of a
-fallen tree; he waited till the tribesmen, one
-and all, had ranged themselves on either hand
-and then signed to Theodore to kneel.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Give me both your hands,” he ordered—and
-held them between his own. As in days
-long past—(so Theodore remembered)—the
-overlord, the suzerain, had taken the hands of
-his vassal.... Did he remember—this latter-day
-barbarian—the ritual of chivalry, the
-feudal customs of Capet, Hohenstaufen and
-Plantagenet? Or was his imitation of their
-lordly rite unconscious?</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“So that you may live and be one of us,”
-the old man began, “you will swear two things—to
-be true to your fellows and humble and
-meek towards God. Before God and before
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>all of us you will take your oath; and, if you
-break it, may you die the death of the wicked
-and may fire consume you to eternity!”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The words were intoned and not spoken for
-the first time: the ritual of the ceremony was
-established, and at definite points and intervals
-the bystanders broke in with a mutter
-of approval or warning—already traditional.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“First: you will swear, till death takes
-you, to be our man against all perils and
-enemies.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I will be your man till death takes me,”
-swore Theodore, “against all perils and
-enemies.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You are witness,” said the headman, looking
-round, and was answered by a murmur
-from the listeners. The women did not join
-in it—they had, it seemed, no right of vote or
-assent; but they had drawn near, every one
-of them, and were peering at the ceremony
-from beyond the shoulders of their men.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“And now,” came the order, “you will take
-the oath to God, to purify your heart and
-renounce devil’s knowledge—for yourself and
-for those who come after you. Swear it after
-me, word by holy word—and swear it with
-your heart as with your lips.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>And word by word, and line by line, Theodore
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>repeated the formula that cut him off from the
-world of his youth and the heritage of all the
-ages. It was a rhythmical formula, its phrasing
-often Biblical; instinctively the prophet,
-when he framed his new ritual, had followed
-the music of the old.... Written pages and
-the stonework of churches might perish, but
-the word that was spoken endured....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I do swear and take oath, before God and
-before man, that I will walk humbly all my
-days and put from me the pride of the intellect.
-Remembering that the meek shall inherit the
-earth and that the poor in spirit are acceptable
-in the sight of the Most High. Therefore, I
-do swear and take oath that I will purify my
-heart of that which is forbidden, that I will
-renounce and drive out all memory of the
-learning which it is not meant for me, who
-am sinful man, to know. What I know and
-remember of that which is forbidden shall
-be dead to me and as if it had never been
-born.... May my hands be struck off before
-I set them to the making of that which is forbidden;
-and may blindness smite me if I seek
-to pry into the hidden mysteries of God. Into
-the secrets of the earth, into the secrets of the
-air, the secrets of water or fire. For the Lord
-our God is a jealous God and the secrets of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>earth, air, water and fire are sacred to Him
-Who made them and must not be revealed to
-sinners.... Therefore, I pray that my tongue
-may rot in my mouth before I speak one word
-that shall kindle the desire of others for that
-which must not be revealed.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I call upon the Lord Most High, Who
-made heaven and earth and all that in them is,
-to hear this oath that I have sworn; and, in
-the day that I am false to it, I call on Him to
-blast me with His utmost wrath.... And
-I call upon my fellow-men to hear this oath
-that I have sworn; may they shed my blood
-without mercy, in the day that I am false to
-it, by thought, word or deed. In the day that
-I am false to it may they visit my sin on my
-head; as I will visit their sin on man, woman
-or child who, in my sight or in my hearing,
-shall hanker after that which is forbidden.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“For so only shall we cleanse and purify our
-hearts; so only shall we live without devil’s
-knowledge and bring up our children without
-it. That the land may have peace in our days
-and that the wrath of the Most High may be
-averted from us.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“So help me God. Amen.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Amen!” came back in a chorus from
-the shadowy group on either hand; and when
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>the echo of their voices had died in the night
-the headman loosed Theodore’s hands.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He rose and looked round him on the faces
-that were near enough to see—searched them
-in the firelight for regret or a memory of the
-past&nbsp;... and, beyond and behind the ring of
-stolid expressionless faces and the desert
-silence, saw Markham toasting the centuries,
-heard the moving thunder of a multitude and
-the prayer of the Westminster bells....</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c008'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>Lord—through—this—hour&nbsp;...</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c006'>The old man stretched out a hand in token
-of comradeship admitted—and Theodore took
-it mechanically.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XX</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>With dawn Theodore and a stolid companion,
-appointed by the headman, set out on their
-journey to the camp where Ada awaited them.
-They reached it only after weatherbound delays;
-as they towed their boat against a
-current that was almost too strong for their
-paddling they were overtaken by a blinding
-snowstorm and escaped from it barely with
-their lives. They made fast their boat to the
-stump of a tree and groped through the smother
-to a shed near the river’s edge; and there, for
-the better part of a day, they sheltered while
-the storm lasted. When it moderated and
-they pushed on through the dead village, a
-thick sheet of snow had obliterated the minor
-landmarks whereby Theodore had been wont
-to guide his way. It was close upon sunset
-on the third day of their journey when they
-trudged into the hidden valley and the familiar
-tree-clump came in sight—and dusk was
-thickening into moonless dark when Ada,
-hearing voices, ran forward with a scream of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>welcome. She sobbed and laughed incoherently
-as she clung round her husband’s neck;
-hysterical, perhaps near insanity, through
-loneliness and the terror of loneliness.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In the intensity of her relief at the ending
-of her ordeal she forgot, at first, to be greatly
-disappointed because the world of Theodore’s
-discovery was a world without a cinema or
-<span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">char-à-banc</span>; with her craving for company, it
-was sheer delight to know that in a few days
-more she would be in the midst of some two
-score human beings, whatever their manner of
-living. It took time and explanation to make
-her understand that the desire for <span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">char-à-banc</span>
-and cinema must no longer be openly expressed;
-she stared uncomprehendingly when
-Theodore strove to make clear to her the religious,
-as well as the practical, idea that lay
-behind the prohibition.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The need for caution was the more urgent
-since he had learned in the course of the return
-journey that his appointed companion was a
-fanatic in the new faith, a penitent who groaned
-to his offended Deity; savagely pure-hearted
-in the cult of ignorance and savagely suspicious
-of the backslider.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The religious temperament was something
-so far removed from Ada’s experience that he
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>found it impossible at a first hearing to convince
-her of the unknown danger of intolerant
-and distorted faith. His mention of a religious
-aspect to their new difficulties brought the
-vague rejoinder that her mother was a Baptist
-but her aunt had been married in a Catholic
-church to an Irishman; and in the end he
-gave up his attempt at explanation and
-snapped out an order instead.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You’re to be careful how you talk to them.
-Until you get to know them, you’d better
-say nothing about what you used to do in
-the old times. Nothing at all—do you
-hear?...”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She stared, uncomprehending, but realized
-the order was an order. What she did
-understand and tremble at was the lack of
-provision for her coming ordeal of childbirth,
-and there was a burst of loud weeping and
-terrified protest when Theodore admitted, in
-answer to her questions, that he had found no
-trace of either hospitals, nurses or doctors.
-For the time being he soothed her with a
-hurried promise of seeking them further
-afield—pushing on to find them (they were
-sure to be found) when she was settled in
-comfort and safety with other women to look
-after her.... For the time being, he told
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>himself, the soothing deceit was a necessity;
-she would understand later—see for herself
-what was possible—settle down and accept
-the inevitable.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She was all eagerness to start, but it took
-two full days before the requisite number of
-journeys had been made to the river—their
-stores packed on an improvised sled, dragged
-heavily across the miles of frozen snow and
-stowed in the flat-bottomed boat. Then, on
-the third day, Ada herself made the journey;
-helped along by the men who, when the ground
-was smooth enough, set her on the sled and
-dragged her. In spite of their help she needed
-many halts for rest, and the distance between
-camp and river took most of the hours of daylight
-to accomplish; hence they sheltered
-for the night in a cottage not far from the
-river’s bank, and with morning dropped downstream
-in the boat—paddling cautiously as
-they rounded each bend and always on their
-guard against the possibility of unfriendly
-meetings. The long desolation they passed
-through was a no-man’s land; any stray
-hunter, therefore, might deem himself at
-liberty to attack whom he saw and seize what
-he found in their possession. But throughout
-the short day was neither sight nor sound of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>man and by sunset the current, running
-swollen and rapidly, had brought them to
-their destined landing.... After that came
-the mooring of the boat in the reeds and the
-hiding, on the bank of the river, of the stores
-they could not carry; then the long uphill
-tramp over snow, in the gathering darkness—with
-Ada shivering, crying from weariness
-and clinging to her husband’s arm. And—at
-last—the glow of fires, through tree-trunks;
-with figures moving round them, shaggy men
-and unkempt women.... Their home!</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The unkempt women met their fellow not unkindly.
-They drew her to the fire and rubbed
-her frozen hands; then, while one brought a
-bowl of steaming mess, another laid dry moss
-and heather in the bed-place of her unfinished
-dwelling. A protesting baby was wakened
-from its sleep and dandled for her comfort and
-inspection—its mother giving frank and loud-voiced
-details concerning the manner of its
-birth. There was a rough and good-natured
-attempt to raise her drooping spirits, and Ada,
-fed and warmed, brightened visibly and responded
-to the clack of tongues. This, at
-least, the new world had restored to her—the
-blessing of loud voices raised in chatter....
-All the same, on the second night of their new
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>life Theodore, awake in the darkness, heard
-her sniffing and swallowing her tears.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“What is it?” he asked and she clung to
-him miserably and wept her forebodings on his
-shoulder. Not only forebodings of her coming
-ordeal in the absence of hospitals and doctors,
-but—was this, in truth, to be the world?
-These people—so they told her—knew of no
-other existing; but what had become of all
-the towns? The trams, the shops, the life of
-the towns—her life—where was it? It must
-be somewhere—a little way off—where was
-it?... He soothed her with difficulty, repeating
-his warnings on the danger of open
-regrets for the past and reminding her that
-to-morrow she also would be called on for the
-oath.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I know,” she whimpered. “Of course
-I’ll taike an oath if I must. But you can’t
-’elp thinking—if you swear yourself black in
-the faice, you can’t ’elp thinking.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Whatever you think,” he insisted, “you
-mustn’t say it—to anyone.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I know,” she snuffled obediently, “I
-shan’t say nothing&nbsp;... but, oh Gawd, oh
-Gawd—aren’t we ever going to be ’appy
-again?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He knew what she was weeping for—shaking
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>with miserable sobs; the evenings at the
-pictures, the little bits of machine-made
-finery, the petty products of “devil’s knowledge”
-that had made up her daily life. The
-cry to her “Gawd” was a prayer for the return
-of these things and the hope of them had
-so far sustained her in peril, hardship and loneliness.
-Pictures and finery had always been
-there, just a mile or two beyond the horizon—awaiting
-her enjoyment so soon as it was safe
-to reach them. Now, in her overpowering
-misery and darkness of soul, she was facing
-the dread possibility that they no longer
-awaited her, that the horizon was immeasurable,
-infinite.... Guns and bombs and
-poisons—nobody wanted them and she understood
-people making up their minds to do
-without ’em. But the other things—you
-couldn’t go on living without the other things—shops
-and proper houses and railways....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“It can’t be for always,” she persisted,
-“it can’t be”—and was cheered by the sudden
-heat of his agreement, the sudden note of
-protest in his voice. The knowledge that he
-sympathized encouraged her and, with her
-head on his shoulder, sniffing, but comforted,
-she began to plan out their deliverance.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“They must be somewhere—the people
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>that live like they used to. Keepin’ quiet, I
-dessay, till things gets more settled. When
-things is settled they’ll get a move on and
-come along and find us. It stands to reason
-they can’t be so very far off, because I remember
-the teacher tellin’ us when we ’ad our
-jography lesson that England’s quite a small
-country. So they ’aven’t got so very far to
-come.... I expect an aeroplane’ll come
-first.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He felt her thrill in expectation of the
-moment when she sighted the swiftly moving
-speck aloft, the bearer of deliverance drawing
-nigh. Wouldn’t it be heavenly when they
-saw one at last—after all these awful months
-and years!... In the war they were beastly,
-but, now that the war was over, what had
-become of all the passenger ’planes and the
-airships? She was always looking out for
-one—always; every morning when she came
-out of the hut the first thing she did was to
-look up at the sky.... And some day one
-was bound to come. When things had settled
-down and got straight, it was bound to....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>But it never did; and in the end she ceased
-to look for it.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>His attempts—they were many in the first
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>few years—to break away from his world and
-his bondage of ignorance were made always
-with cunning precaution and subterfuge; not
-even the pitiable need of his wife would have
-served as excuse for the backsliding which
-was search after the forbidden. To a fanaticism
-dominated by the masculine element the
-pains of childbirth were once more an ordinance
-of God; and when, a few weeks before
-Ada’s time of trial, Theodore absented himself
-from the camp for a night or two, he gave
-no one (save Ada) warning of his journey, and
-later accounted for his absence by a plausible
-story of straying and a hunter’s misfortunes.
-He had ceased, since he took up his dwelling
-with the tribe, to believe in the neighbourhood
-of a civilization in being; all he hoped for was
-the neighbourhood, not too distant, of men
-who had not acquiesced in ruin and put hope
-of recovery behind them. What he sought
-primarily was that aid and comfort in childbirth
-for which his wife appealed to him with
-insistence that grew daily more terrified;
-what he sought fundamentally was escape
-from a people vowed to ignorance.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The goal of his first journey was the town
-lying lower down the river, the forbidden city
-which had once bred pestilence and flies. He
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>approached it deviously, keeping to the hills
-and avoiding districts he knew to be inhabited;
-hoping against hope, that, in spite of report,
-he might find some rebuilding of a civic
-existence and human life as he had known it....
-What he found when he came down from
-the foothills and trudged through its outskirts
-was the customary silent desolation; a
-desolation flooded and smelling of foul water—untenanted
-streets that were channels and
-backwaters, and others where the slime of
-years lay thick and scum bred rank vegetation.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Silent streets and empty houses had long
-been familiar to him, but until that day he
-had not known how swiftly nature, left to
-herself, could take hold of them. The river
-and the life that sprang from it was overwhelming
-what man had deserted. Three
-winters of neglect in a low-lying, well-watered
-country had wrought havoc with the work of
-the farmer and the engineer; streams which
-had been channelled and guided for centuries
-had already burst their way back to freedom.
-With every flooded winter more banks were
-undermined, more channels silted up and
-shifted; and that which had been ploughland,
-copse or water-meadow was relapsing
-into bog undrained. The valley above and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>below the town was a green swamp studded
-with reedy little pools; a refuge for the waterbird
-where a man would set foot at his peril.
-Buildings here and there stood rotting, forlorn
-and inaccessible—barns, sheds and farmhouses,
-their walls leaning drunkenly as foundations
-shifted in the mud; and in the town
-itself, as surely, if more slowly, the waters
-were taking possession.... Towns had vanished,
-he knew—vanished so completely that
-their very sites had been matter of dispute to
-antiquarians—but never till to-day had he
-visualized the process; the rising of layer on
-layer of mud, the sapping of foundations by
-water. The forces that made ruin and the
-forces that buried it; flood and frost and the
-persistent thrust of vegetation. As the waterlogged
-ground slid beneath them, rows of
-jerry-built houses were sagging and cracking
-to their fall; here and there one had crumbled
-and lay in a rubble heap, the water curdling at
-its base.... How many life-times, he wondered,
-till the river had the best of it and the
-houses where men had gone out and in were
-one and all of them a rubble heap—under
-water and mud and rank greenery? He saw
-them, decades or centuries ahead, as a waste,
-a stretch of bogland where the river idled;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>bogland, now flooded, now drying and cracked
-in the sun; and with broken green islets still
-thrusting through the swamp—broken green
-islets of moss-covered rock that underneath
-was brick and mortar. In time it might be—with
-more decades or centuries—the islets also
-would sink lower in the swamp, disappear....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The process, unhindered, was certain as
-sunrise; the important little streets that
-humanity had built for its vanished needs and
-its vanished business would be absorbed into
-an indifferent wilderness, in all things sufficient
-to itself. The rigid important little
-streets had been no more than an episode in
-the ceaseless life of the wilderness; an episode
-ending in failure, to be decently buried and
-forgotten.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He plodded aimlessly through street after
-street that was fordable till the shell of a
-“County Infirmary” mocked at Ada’s hopes
-and recalled the first purpose of his journey;
-a gaunt sodden building, the name yet visible
-on walls that sweated fungi and mould. Then,
-that he might leave nothing undone in the way
-of help and search, he trudged and waded to
-the lower outskirts of the town; where the
-roads lost themselves in grass and flooded
-water, and there stretched to the limit of his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>eyesight a dull winter landscape without sign
-of living care or habitation. In the end—having
-strained his eyes after that which was
-not—he turned to slink back to his own place;
-skirting alien territory where the sight of a
-stranger might mean an alarm and a manhunt,
-and sheltering at night where his fire
-might be hidden from the watcher.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“You ’aven’t found nothin’?” Ada whimpered,
-when he had told his necessary lies to
-the curious and they were out of earshot in
-their hut. Her eyes had grown piteous when
-he stumbled in alone; she had dreamt in his
-absence of sudden and miraculous deliverance—following
-him in fancy through streets with
-tramlines, where dwelt women who wore
-corsets—also doctors. Who, perhaps, when
-they knew the greatness of her need, would
-send a motor-ambulance—to fetch her to a bed
-with sheets on it.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Nothing,” he told her almost roughly,
-afraid to show pity. “No doctors, no houses
-fit to live in. Wherever I’ve been and as far
-as I could see—it’s like this.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XXI</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>It was in the third spring after the Ruin of
-Man that Ada’s time was accomplished and
-she bore a son to her husband; on a day in
-late April or early May there was going and
-coming round the shelter that was Theodore’s
-home. The elder women of the tribe, by
-right of their experience, took possession, and
-from early morning till long after nightfall
-they busied themselves with the torment and
-mystery of birth; and with the aid of nothing
-but their rough and unskilled kindliness Ada
-suffered and brought forth a squalling red
-mannikin—the heir of the ages and their outcast.
-The child lived and, despite its mother’s
-fecklessness, was lusty; as a boy, ran shoeless,
-and, in summer, naked as Adam; and grew
-to his primitive manhood without letters,
-knowing of the world that was past and gone
-only legends derived from his elders.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>His coming, to Theodore, meant more than
-paternity; the birth of his son made him one
-with the life of the tribe. By the child’s
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>wants and helplessness—still more when other
-children followed—his father was tied to an
-existence which offered the necessary measure
-of security; to the stretch of land where he
-had the right to hunt unmolested, the patch
-he had the right to sow and reap, and the
-company of those who would aid him in protecting
-his children. He had given his hostages
-to fortune and the limits set to his secret
-expeditions in search of a lost world were the
-limits set by the needs of those dependent on
-him, by his fear of leaving them too long unprotected,
-unprovided for.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He learned much from his firstborn and the
-brothers and sisters who followed him; not
-only the intimate lore of his fatherhood, but
-the lore and outlook of man bred uncivilized,
-and the traditions, in making, of a world to
-come—which in all things would resemble the
-old traditions handed down by a world that
-had died. His children lived naturally the
-life that had been forced upon their father and
-inherited ignorance as a birthright; growing
-up—such as lived through the perils of childhood—without
-knowledge of the past and
-untempted by the sin of the intellect. The
-oath which Theodore, like every new-made
-father, was called on to swear in the name
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>of the child he had given to the tribe, had a
-meaning to those who had lived through Disaster
-and witnessed the Ruin of Man; to
-the next generation the vow was a formula
-only, a renunciation of that they had never
-possessed. They could not, if they would,
-instruct their children in the secrets of God,
-the forbidden lore of the intellect.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>By the time his first son was of an age to
-think and question, Theodore understood more
-than the growth and workings of a child-mind—much
-that had hitherto seemed dark and
-fantastic in the origins of a world that had
-ended with the Ruin of Man. It was the
-workings of a child-mind that made oddly
-clear to him the significance of primitive religious
-doctrine and beliefs handed down through
-the ages—the once meaningless doctrine of the
-Fall of Man and the belief in a vanished Golden
-Age. These the boy, unprompted, evolved
-from his own knowledge and the talk of his
-elders, accepting them spontaneously and
-naturally.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In Theodore’s childhood the Golden Age
-had been a myth and pleasant fancy of the
-ancients, and the Fall of Man as distant as the
-Book of Genesis and unreal as the tale of Puss-in-Boots;
-to his children, one and all, the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>legends of his infancy were close and undoubted
-realities. The Golden Age was a wondrous
-condition of yesterday; the Fall—the Ruin—its
-catastrophic overthrow, an experience
-their father had survived. The fields and
-hillsides where they worked, played and
-wandered were still littered with strange
-relics of the Golden Age—the vanished,
-fruitful, incomprehensible world whence their
-parents had been cast into the outer darkness
-of everyday hardship as a penalty for the sin
-of mankind. The sin unforgivable of grasping
-at the knowledge which had made them like
-unto gods; a mad ambition which not only
-they but their children’s children must atone
-for in the sweat of their brow.... More than
-once Theodore suspected in the secret recesses
-of his youngsters’ minds a natural and wondering
-contempt for the men of the last generation;
-the fools and blind who had overreached
-themselves and forfeited the splendour of the
-Golden Age by their blundering greed and
-unwisdom. So history was writing itself in
-their minds; making of a race that had acquiesced
-in science and drifted to destruction
-a legendary people whose sin was deliberate—a
-people whose encroachments had angered
-a self-important Deity and brought down his
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>wrath upon their heads. It was a history
-inseparable from religious belief; its opening
-chapters identical in all essentials with the
-legendary history of an epoch that had ceased
-to exist.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Once his eight-year boy, planted sturdily
-before him, demanded a plain explanation of
-the folly of his father’s contemporaries.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Why,” he asked frowning, “did the people
-want to find out God’s secrets?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore thought of Ada and the countless
-millions like her, leaned his chin on his hand
-and smiled grimly.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Some of us didn’t,” he answered. “Some
-of us—many of us—had no interest in the
-secrets of God. We made use of them when
-others found them out, but we, ourselves, were
-quite content to be ignorant. Ignorant in all
-things.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I know,” the child assented, puzzled by
-his father’s smile. “The good ones didn’t
-want to—the good ones like you and Mummy.
-But the others—all the wicked ones—why did
-they? It was stupid of them.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“They wanted to find out,” said Theodore,
-“and there have always been people like that.
-From the beginning, the very beginning of
-things—ever since there were men on the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>earth. The desire to know burned them like
-a fire. There is an old story of a woman who
-brought great trouble into the world because
-she wanted to know. She was given a box
-and told never to open it; but she disobeyed
-because she was filled with a great curiosity
-to know what had been put inside it. Her
-longing tormented her night and day and she
-could think of nothing else; till at last she
-opened the box and horrible creatures flew
-out.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The boy, interested, demanded more of
-Pandora and the horrible creatures. “Is it
-a true story?” he asked when his father had
-given such further details as he managed to
-remember and invent.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes,” Theodore told him, “I believe it is
-a true story. It was so long ago that we cannot
-tell exactly how it happened: I may not
-have told it you quite rightly, but on the whole
-it is a true story.... And the wicked people—our
-wicked people who brought ruin on the
-world—were much like Pandora and her box.
-It was the same thing over again; they wanted
-to know so strongly that they forgot everything
-else; they had only the longing to find
-out and it seemed as if nothing else mattered.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Weren’t they afraid?” the boy asked
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>doubtfully, still puzzled by his father’s odd
-smile. “Afraid of what would happen to
-them?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No,” Theodore answered. “Until it was
-too late and they saw what they had done, I
-don’t think many were afraid. Here and
-there, before the end, some began to be
-frightened, but most of them didn’t see where
-they were going.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“But they must have known,” his son
-insisted, frowning. “God told them He would
-punish them if they tried to learn His secrets.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes,” Theodore assented—with the orthodox
-truth, more deceptive than a lie, that
-meant one thing to him and another to the
-world barbarian. “Yes, God told them so;
-but though He said it very plainly not many
-of them understood....” They were talking,
-he knew, across more than the gulf
-between the mind of a child and a man;
-between them lay the centuries, the barrier
-of many generations. To his son, now and
-always, dead and gone chemists and mathematicians
-must appear in the likeness of present
-evildoers—raiders of the territory and robbers
-of the property of God; to his son, now and
-always, inventors and spectacled professors
-in mortar-boards would be greedy, foolish
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>chieftains who planned war against Heaven
-as a tribe plans assault upon its rivals. These
-were and must always be his “wicked,” his
-destroyers of the Golden Age; his life and
-outlook being what it was, how should he
-picture the war against Heaven as pure-hearted,
-instinctive and unconscious?</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Why not?” the child persisted, repeating
-the question when his father stroked his head
-absently.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Because&nbsp;... they did not know themselves.
-If they had known themselves and
-their own passions they would have seen why
-knowledge was forbidden.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Yes,” said the child vaguely—and passed
-to the matter that interested him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Why didn’t the others make them understand?
-You and the other good ones?”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“Because,” said Theodore, “we ourselves
-didn’t understand. That was the blunder—the
-sin—of the rest of us. We didn’t seek
-after knowledge, but we took the fruits of
-other men’s knowledge and ate.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>(Unconsciously he made use of the familiar
-hereditary simile.)</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“I’d have killed them,” his son declared
-firmly. “Every one. I’d have told them to
-stop, and then, if they wouldn’t, I’d have
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>killed them. Thrown them in the river—or
-hammered them with stones till they died.
-That’s what I’d have done.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“No,” Theodore told him, “you wouldn’t
-have killed them.... One of them said the
-same thing to me—one of the wicked ones.
-He said we should have stamped out the race
-of them. Afterwards I knew he was right,
-but at the time I didn’t understand. I
-couldn’t. I heard what he said, but the words
-had no real meaning for me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He saw something that was almost contempt
-in his son’s eyes and took the grubby face
-between his hands.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>“That same wicked man—who was also
-very wise—told me something else that is as
-true for you as it was for me; he said that we
-never know anything except through our
-own experience. I might tell you that the
-sun is warm or the water is cold, but if you
-had never felt the heat of the sun or the cold
-of the water you would not know what I
-meant. And it was like that with us; there
-were always some few who understood that
-knowledge was a flame that, in the end, would
-burn us—but the rest of us couldn’t even try
-to save ourselves until after we were burned.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He stroked the grubby face as he released it.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>“That’s the Law, son; and all that matters
-you’ll learn that way. That way and no
-other—just as we did.”</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>In time he found himself recalling, with
-strange interest, the fairy-tales of his childhood;
-he spent long hours re-weaving and
-piecing them together, searching his memory
-for half-remembered fragments of what had
-once seemed fantasy or nonsense invented for
-the nursery. The hobgoblins and heroes of
-his nursery days were transformed and made
-suddenly possible; looking through the mind
-of a new generation, he saw that they might
-have been as human and prosaic as himself.
-More—he came to know that he and his commonplace,
-civilized contemporaries would be
-the heroes and hobgoblins of the future.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The process, the odd transformation, would
-be simple as it was inevitable. It was forbidden,
-by the spirit and letter of the Vow, to
-awaken youthful curiosity concerning the past—youthful
-curiosity whose end might be
-youthful experiment; but women, in spite
-of all vows and prohibitions, would gossip
-to each other of their memories. While they
-talked their children would listen, open-eyed
-and puzzled; and when a youngster demanded
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>the meaning of an unfamiliar term
-or impossible happening, the explanation,
-as a matter of course, took the form of
-analogy, of comparison with the known and
-familiar. The aeroplane was a bird extinct
-and monstrous—larger, many times larger,
-than the flapping heron or the owl; the bomb
-was more dreadful than a lightning stroke;
-the tram, train or motor a gigantic wheelbarrow
-that ran without man or beast to drag
-it.... The ignorance of science of those who
-told, the yet greater ignorance of those who
-heard, resulted, inevitably, before many years
-had passed, in myth and religious legend—an
-outwardly fantastic statement of actual fact
-and truth. The children, piecing together
-their fragments of incomprehensible information,
-made their own image of the past—to be
-handed on later to their sons; an image of
-a world fantastic, enchanted and amazing,
-destroyed, as a judgment for sin against God,
-by strange, fire-breathing beasts and bolts
-from heaven. A world of gigantic fauna and
-bewitched chariots; likewise of sorcerers,
-their masters—whom God and the righteous
-had exterminated.... So Theodore realized—as
-his children grew and he heard them talk—must
-a race that knew nothing of science
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>explain the dead wonders of science; from the
-message that flashes round the world in
-seconds to the petrol-engine and the magic
-slumber of chloroform. That which is outside
-the power and beyond the understanding
-of man has always been denounced as magic;
-and steam, electricity, chemical action, were
-outside the power and beyond the understanding
-of men born after the Ruin. In
-default of understanding they must needs fall
-back on a wizardry known to their fathers; thus
-he and his contemporaries to their children’s
-children would be semi-supernatural beings,
-fit comrades of Sindbad, of Perseus, or the
-Quatre Fils Aymon: giants with great voices
-that called to each other across continents and
-vasty deeps; possessors of seven-league boots,
-magic steeds and flying carpets—of all the
-stock-in-trade of the fairy-tale.... Belief
-in the demi-god was a natural growth and
-product of the world wherein his son grew to
-manhood.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Given time and black ignorance of mechanics
-and science, and the engineer would be
-promoted to a giant or demi-god; who, by virtue
-of a strength that was more than human,
-dammed rivers, drained bogs and pierced
-mountains. “As it was in the beginning, is
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>now and ever shall be”—and always in the past
-there had been giants. Titans—and Hercules,
-removing mighty obstacles and cleansing the
-stables of Augeas. He came to understand
-that all wonders were facts misinterpreted and
-that (given time and ignorance) a post-office
-underling, tapping out his Morse code, might
-be seen as a geni or an Oberon—the absolute
-master of obedient sprites who could lay their
-girdles round the earth; and he pictured a
-college-bred, sober-suited Hercules planning
-his Labours in the office of a limited company—jotting
-down figures, estimating costs and
-scanning the reports of geologists. Figures
-and reports, like his tunnels and dams, would
-pass into the limbo of science forgotten and
-forbidden, but the memory of his labours, his
-defiance of brute nature, would live on as the
-story of a demi-god; and the childhood that
-was barbarism would explain his achievements
-by a giant strength that could tear down trees
-and move mountains.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The idea took fast root and grew in him—the
-idea of a world that, time and again, had
-returned to the helplessness of childhood. He
-saw science as the burden that, time and again,
-the race found intolerable; as Dead-Sea fruit
-that turned to ashes in the mouth, as riches
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>that humanity strove for, attained and renounced—renounced
-because it dared not
-keep them. In his hours of dreaming he made
-fairies and demi-gods out of dapper little
-sedentary persons, the senders of forgotten
-telegrams, with forgotten engines—motor-cars
-and aeroplanes—at their insignificant command;
-and once, in the night, when Ada
-snored beside him, he asked himself if Lucifer,
-Son of the Morning—Lucifer who strove with
-his God and was worsted—were more, in his
-beginnings, than a scientist intent on his work?
-A chemist, a spectacled professor, resplendent
-only in degrees and learning? An Archfiend of
-Knowledge who had sinned against God in the
-secret places of a laboratory and not upon the
-shining plains of Heaven? And whom ignorance
-and time had glorified into the Tempter,
-the Evil One—setting him magnificently in
-the flaming Hell which he and his like, by
-their skill and patience, had created and let
-loose upon man?... This, at least, was
-certain; that in years to come and under
-other names, his children’s children would retell
-the story of Lucifer, Son of the Morning;
-the Enemy of Man who was flung out of Heaven
-because, in his overweening vanity, he encroached
-on the power of a God.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>It was the new world that taught him that
-man invents nothing, is incapable of pure
-invention; that what seem his wildest, most
-fantastic imaginings are no more than ineffective,
-distorted attempts to set down a half-forgotten
-experience. What had once appeared
-prophecies he saw to be memories; the
-Day of Judgment, when the heavens should
-flame and men call upon the rocks to cover
-them, belonged to the past before it belonged
-to the future. The forecast of its terrors was
-possible only to a people that had known them
-as realities; a people troubled by a dim race-memory
-of the conquest of the air and catastrophe
-hurled from the skies....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>So, at least, his children taught him to
-believe.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XXII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>With years and rough husbandry the resources
-of the tribe were augmented and it
-emerged from its first starved misery; more
-land was brought under cultivation and, as
-tillage improved and better crops were raised,
-the little community was less dependent on the
-haphazard luck of its fishing and snaring and
-lived further from the line of utter want.
-While, save in bad seasons, the inter-tribal
-raiding that was caused by sheer starvation
-was less frequent. Even so, strife was frequent
-enough—small intermittent feud that
-flared now and again into savagery; the desire
-of a growing community to extend its
-hunting-grounds at the expense of a neighbour
-meant, almost inevitably, appeal to the right
-of the strongest. Other quarrels had their
-origin in the border inroads and reprisals of
-poachers or a barbaric setting of the eternal
-story that was old when Helen launched a
-thousand ships.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>With husbandry, even rough husbandry,
-came the small beginnings of commerce, the
-barter and exchange of one man’s superfluities
-for the produce of another man’s fields. Cold
-and nakedness stimulated ingenuity in the
-matter of clothing, even in a society whose
-original members had in large part been bred
-to depend in all things on the aid of the machine
-and to earn a livelihood by the performance of
-one action only—the tending of one lathe, the
-accomplishment of one stereotyped mechanical
-process. Outcasts of civilization flung
-into the world of savagery, they had in the
-beginning none of the adaptability and none
-of the resources of the savage—knew nothing
-of the properties of unfamiliar plants, knew
-neither what to weave nor how to weave it,
-and often from sheer lack of understanding,
-starved and shivered in the midst of plenty.
-It was not till they had suffered long and
-intolerably that they learned to clothe themselves
-from such material as their new world
-afforded, to cure skins of animals and stitch
-them together into garments. In the first
-years of ruin only ratskins were plentiful;
-but, as time went on, rabbits, cats and wild
-dogs multiplied and, spreading through the
-countryside, were trapped and hunted for
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>their flesh and the warmth of their skins. The
-dogs, as they bred, reverted to a mongrel and
-wolf-like type which, in summer, preyed
-largely on vermin; in winter, when scarcity
-of food made them bold, they prowled in
-packs, were a danger to the solitary and a
-legendary terror to children.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In the beginning the village was a straggle
-of rude huts, the tribesmen building how and
-where they would; later it took shape within
-its first wall and was roughly circular, enclosed
-by a fence of stake and thornbush. The
-raising of the fence was a sign and result of
-the beginning of primitive competition in
-armament; it was the knowledge that one
-village had fortified itself that set others to
-the driving in of stakes. One November
-evening Theodore, trudging in with his catch,
-saw a group round the headman’s fire; the
-centre of interest, a youth who had returned
-from poaching on other men’s land and brought
-back news of their doings. His trespassing
-had taken him within sight of the neighbouring
-village—which lately was a cluster of huts,
-like their own, and now was surrounded by a
-wall. A stockade, fully the height of a man,
-with only one gap for a gate.... The
-poacher’s news was discussed with uneasy
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>interest. The fortified tribe, in point of
-numbers, was already stronger than its rival;
-if it added this new advantage to its numbers,
-what was there to prevent it from raiding and
-robbing as it would? Having raided and
-robbed, it could shelter behind its defences—beat
-off attack, make sorties and master the
-countryside! Its security meant the insecurity
-of others, the dependence of others on its
-goodwill and neighbourly honesty; the issue
-was as plain to the handful of tribesmen as to
-old-time nations competing in battleships,
-aeroplanes and guns, and the suspicions
-muttered round the headman’s fire were the
-raw material of arguments once familiar in the
-councils of emperors.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In the end, as the result of uneasy discussion,
-Theodore and another were dispatched to spy
-out the new menace, to get as near as they
-might to the wall, ascertain its strength and
-the method of its building; and with their
-return from a night expedition there was more
-consultation and a hurried planning of defences.
-Before winter was over the haphazard
-settlement was a compound, a walled town in
-embryo; within the narrow limits of a circle
-small enough for a handful of men to defend
-all huts were crowded, all provisions stored,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>all animals driven at sunset—so that, in case
-of night attack, no man could be cut off and
-the strength of the tribe be at hand to resist
-the assailants. With waste, healthy miles
-stretching out on either side, the village itself
-was an evil-smelling huddle of cabins; since
-a short stretch of wall was easier to defend
-than a long, men and beasts were crowded
-together in a foulness that made for security.
-In times of feud—and times of feud were
-seldom distant—stones were heaped beside the
-barrier, in readiness to serve as missiles, watch
-and ward was kept turn and turn by the able-bodied
-and—naturally, inevitably and almost
-unconsciously—there was evolved a system of
-military discipline, of penalty for mutiny and
-cowardice.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As in every social system from the beginning
-of time, the community was welded to a conscious
-whole not by the love its members bore
-to each other, but by hatred and fear of the
-outsider; it was the enemy, the urgent
-common need to be saved from him, that made
-of man a comrade and a citizen; the peril
-from outside was the natural antidote to
-everyday hatreds and the ceaseless bickerings
-of close neighbours. The instinctive politics
-of a squalid village were in miniature the policy
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>of vanished nations, and untraditioned little
-headmen, like dead and gone kings, quelled
-internal feuds by diverting attention to the
-danger that threatened from abroad. The
-foundations of community life in the new world,
-like the foundations of community life in the
-old, were laid in the selfishness of fear; but for
-all its base origin the life of the community imposed
-upon its members the essential virtues of
-the soldier and citizen, a measure of discipline
-and sacrifice. From these, in time, would
-grow loyalty and pride in sacrifice; the enclosure
-of ramshackle huts and pens was breaking
-its savages to achievements undreamed
-of and virtues as yet beyond their ken; the
-blind, stubborn instincts that created Babylon—created
-London and Rome and destroyed
-them—were laying well and truly in a mud-walled
-compound the foundations of cities
-which should rise, flourish, perish in the stead
-of London and of Rome.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Outside the little fortress with its noisome
-huddle of sheds and shelters lay a belt of
-ploughed land, of patches scraped and sown,
-where the women worked by the side of their
-men and worked alone when their men were
-gone hunting or fishing. One or two members
-of the tribe who were countrymen born were
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>its saviours in its first years of leanness,
-imparting their knowledge of soil and seed to
-their unskilled comrades bred in towns; and,
-by slow degrees, as the lesson was learned, the
-belt of tilled ground grew wider and more
-fertile, the little community more prosperous.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>As families grew and the tribe settled down
-the makeshift shelters of wood and moss were
-succeeded by stronger and better built cabins;
-by the time that her second child was born
-Ada was established in a weatherproof hut—a
-mud-walled building, roofed with dried
-grass and with a floor of earth beaten hard.
-In its early years it possessed a glazed window,
-a pane which Theodore had found whole in a
-crumbling house and set immovably in an
-aperture cut in his wall. But, as years went
-on, unbroken glass was hard to come by; and
-there came a day when the window-aperture,
-no longer glazed, was plastered up to keep out
-the weather.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Long before he set about the building of his
-cabin Theodore had brought a strip of ground
-under cultivation, sown a patch of potatoes
-and straggling beans which, in time, expanded
-to a field. His life, henceforth, was largely
-the anxious life of the seasons; the sowing and
-tending and reaping of his crop, the struggle
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>with the soil and the barrenness thereof, the
-ceaseless war against vermin.... He ended
-rich, as the men of his time counted riches;
-the possessor of goats, the owner of land which
-other men envied him, the father of sons who
-could till it. The new world gave him what it
-had to give; and gradually, with the passing
-of years, the hope of life civilized died in him
-and he ceased to strain his eyes at the distance.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>It was slowly, very slowly, that hope died in
-him; but there came a day when, searching
-the skyline, as his habit was, it dawned on his
-mind that he sought automatically; it was
-habit only that made him lift his eyes to the
-horizon. He expected nothing when he shaded
-his eyes and looked this way and that; his
-belief in a world that was lettered and civilized
-had vanished. If that world yet existed,
-remote and apart, of a surety it was not for
-him—who perhaps was no longer capable of
-existence lettered and civilized. And if he
-himself could be broken to its decencies, what
-place had his children, his young barbarians,
-in an ordered atmosphere like that of his
-impossible youth? They belonged to their
-world, to its squalor, its dirt, its rude ignorance&nbsp;... as, it might be, he also belonged.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>At the thought, he knelt and stared into the
-water, taking stock of the image it reflected
-and coming face to face with himself. His
-body and habits had adapted themselves to
-their surroundings, his mind to the outlook
-of his world—to his daily, yearly struggle with
-the soil and vermin and his fellows. His relations
-with his fellows—with women—with
-himself—were not those of humanity civilized;
-it was nothing to him to go foul and unwashed
-or to clench his fist against his wife. Could
-he live the life he had been born and bred to,
-of cleanliness, self-control and courtesy? Or
-had he been stripped of the decencies which go
-to make civilized man?... He covered his
-face with his broken-nailed fingers and strove
-with God and his own soul that he might not
-fall utterly to ruin with his world, that some
-remnant might remain of his heritage.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>From the day when he saw himself for what
-he was and resigned all hope of the world of
-his youth, it seemed to him that he lived two
-divergent lives. One absorbed, perforce, in
-his digging and snaring, in the daily struggle,
-for the daily wants of his household; the
-other—in his hours of summer rest, in the long
-dark winter evenings—an inward life of brooding
-that concerned itself only with the past.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>His memories became to him a species of cult,
-a secret ceremonial and a rite; that which
-had been (so he fancied) was not altogether
-waste, not altogether dead, so long as one man
-thought of it with reverence. When the mood
-took him he would sit for long hours with his
-chin on his hand, staring at the fire while the
-children wondered at his silence—and Ada,
-wearied of talking to deaf ears, flung off to
-gossip with the neighbours.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>She, before she was thirty, was a haggard
-slattern of a woman; pitiable by reason of
-her discontent, and looking far older than her
-years. Childbearing aged her and the field-work
-she hated—the bent-backed drudgery
-she tried in vain to shirk and to which she
-brought no shred of understanding; even
-more she was aged by the weary desire that
-sulked in the corners of her mouth. Before
-she lost her comeliness she had more than once
-sought distraction from her dullness in clumsy
-flirtation; which perhaps was no more than
-silly ogling and nudging and perhaps led to
-actual unfaithfulness. Theodore—not greatly
-interested in his wife’s doings—ignored the
-danger to his household peace until it was
-forcibly thrust upon his notice by a jealous
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>spitfire who cursed Ada for running after other
-women’s husbands, and proceeded to tear out
-her hair. Ada’s snuffling protestations when
-the spitfire was pulled off did not savour of
-injured innocence; he judged her guilty, at
-least in thought, cuffed her soundly and from
-that time kept his eye on her. He was not (as
-she liked to think) jealous—salving her bruises
-with the comforting balm that two males were
-disputing the possession of her body; what
-stirred him to wrath fundamentally was his
-outraged sense of property in Ada, his woman,
-and the possibility that her lightness might
-entail on him the labour of supporting another
-man’s child. The intrigue—if intrigue it were—ended
-on the day of the cuffing and hairpulling;
-her Lothario, awed by his spitfire
-or unwilling to tackle an outraged husband,
-avoided her company from that day forth and
-Ada sank back to domesticity.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She, too, in the end accepted the loss of the
-world that had made her what she was, ceased
-to search the horizon and strain her eyes for the
-deliverer; whereupon—having nothing to
-aim at or hope for—she lapsed into slovenly
-neglect of her home, alternating hours of clack
-and gossip with fits of sullen complaining at
-the daily misery of existence.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>Had destiny realized the dreams of her
-youth and set her to live out her married life
-in a shoddy little villa with bamboo furniture,
-she might have made a tolerable mother; she
-would at least have taken pride in the looks of
-her children, have dressed them with interest,
-as she dressed herself, and tied up their hair
-with satin bows. Being what she was, she
-could take no pride in ragamuffins who ran
-half the year naked; she could see no beauty,
-even, in straight agile limbs which were meant
-to be encased in reach-me-down suits or cheap
-costumes of cotton velveteen. Thus her
-naked little ragamuffins—those of them that
-lived—were apt to be dirtier, less cared-for,
-than the run of the dirty village youngsters.
-Theodore, in whom the instinct of fatherhood
-was strong, was sometimes roused to wrath
-by her stupid mishandling of her children; but,
-on the whole he was patient with her—knowing
-it useless to be otherwise. He beat her
-as seldom as possible and she was looked on by
-her neighbours as a woman kindly handled and
-unduly blessed in her husband. To the end
-she remained what she had always been;
-essentially a parasite, a minor product of
-civilization, machine-bred and crowd-developed—bewildered
-by a life not lived in crowds
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>and not subject to the laws of the Machine.
-To the end all nature was alien and hateful to
-her—raw life that she turned from with disgust....
-In her last illness her mind, when
-it wandered, strayed back into the world
-where she belonged; Theodore, an hour before
-she died, heard her muttering of “last Bank
-’Oliday.”</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>She died at the end of a long hard winter
-during which she had failed and complained
-unceasingly, sat huddled to the fire and grown
-weaker; creeping, at last, to her straw in the
-corner and forgetting, in delirium, the meaningless
-life she had shared with her husband
-and children. Death smoothed out the lines
-in her sullen face; it was peaceful, almost
-comely, when Theodore looked his last on it—and
-wondered, oddly, if among the “many
-mansions,” were some Cockney paradise of
-noise and jostle where his wife had found her
-heart’s desire?</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Of the four or five children she had brought
-into the world but two were living on the day
-of her death, her eldest-born and a youngster
-at the crawling stage; but the care of even
-two children was a burdensome matter for a
-man unaided, and it was esteemed natural and
-no insult to the dead, that Theodore should
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>take another wife as speedily as might be—in
-the course not of months but of weeks. He
-found a woman to suit his needs without going
-further than his own tribe; a woman left
-widowed a year or two before, who was glad
-enough to accept the offer of a better living than
-she could hope to make by her own scratching
-of a rod or two of earth and the uncertain
-charity of neighbours. The proposal of
-marriage, made in stolid fashion, was accepted
-as a matter of course&nbsp;... and, that night,
-Theodore stared through the fire into a room
-in Westminster where a girl in a yellow dress
-made music&nbsp;... and a young man listened
-from the corner of a sofa with a cigarette,
-unlit, between his fingers. He was dreaming
-at a table—with silver and branching yellow
-roses—when his son nudged him that supper
-was ready, and he dipped his hand into a
-greasy bowl for the meat.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The wedding followed swiftly on the heels
-of betrothal, and was celebrated in the manner
-already compulsory and established; by a
-public promise made solemnly before the
-headman, by a clasping of hands and a ceremony
-of religious blessing. This last was
-moulded, like all tribal ceremonies, on remembered
-formulæ and ritual; and the tradition
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>that a wedding should be accompanied by
-much eating and general merrymaking was
-also faithfully observed.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>The new wife, if not over comely or intelligent,
-was a sturdy young woman who had
-been broken to the duties required of her, and
-Theodore’s home, under its second mistress,
-was better tended and more comfortable than
-in the days of her sluttish predecessor. He
-had married her simply as a matter of business,
-that she might help in his field-work, cook his
-food, look after his children and satisfy his
-animal desire; and on the whole he had no
-reason to complain of the bargain he had made.
-She was a younger woman than Ada by some
-years—had been only a slip of a girl at the
-time of the Ruin—and, because of her youth,
-had adapted herself more readily than most
-of her elders to a world in the making and
-untraditioned methods of living. Her husband
-found life easier for the help of a pair of
-sturdy arms and pleasanter for lack of Ada’s
-grumbling.... She brought more than herself
-to Theodore’s household—a child by her
-first husband; and, as time went on, she bore
-him other children of his own.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>
- <h2 class='c004'>XXIII</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c005'>As the years went by and his children grew
-to manhood in the world primitive which was
-the only world they knew, the life of Theodore
-Savage became definitely twofold; a life of
-the body in the present and a life of the mind
-in the past. There was his outward, rustic
-and daily self, the labourer, hunter and fisherman,
-who begat sons and daughters, who
-trudged home at nightfall to eat and sleep
-heavily, who occasionally cudgelled his wife: a
-sweating, muscular animal man whose existence
-was bounded by his bodily needs and the
-bodily needs of his children; who fondled his
-children and cuffed them by turns, as the
-beast cuffs and fondles its offspring. Whose
-world was the world of a food-patch enclosed
-in a valley, of a river where he fished, a wood
-where he snared and a hut that received him
-at evening.... In time it was of these things,
-and these things only, that he spoke to his kin
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>and his neighbours; the weather, the luck of
-his hunting or fishing, the loves, births and
-deaths of his fellows. With the rise and
-growth of a generation that knew only the
-world primitive, the little community lived
-more in the present and less in the past; mention
-of the world that had vanished was even
-less frequent and even more furtive than
-before.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>And even if that had not been the case, there
-was no man in the tribe, save Theodore, whose
-mind was the mind of a student; thus his
-other life, his life of the past, was lived to
-himself alone. It was a vivid memory-life in
-which he delved, turning over its vanished
-treasures—the intangible treasures of dead
-beauty, dead literature, learning and art; a
-life that at times receded to a dream of the
-impossible and at others was so real and overwhelming
-in its nearness that the everyday
-sweating and toiling and lusting grew vague
-and misty—was a veil drawn over reality.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Sometimes the two lives clashed suddenly
-and oddly—to the wonder of those who saw
-him. As on the day when his wife had burned
-the evening mess and, raising his hand to
-chastise her carelessness, there flashed before
-his eyes, without warning, a vision of Phillida
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>bent delicately over her piano.... Not only
-Phillida, but the room, her surroundings;
-every detail clear to him and the loveliness
-of Chopin in his ears.... Furniture, hangings,
-a Louis Seize clock and a Hogarth print—and
-swiftly-seen objects whose very names he had
-forgotten, so long was it since he had made use
-of the household words that once described
-them. The dead world caught him back to
-itself and claimed him; in the face of its
-reality the present faded, the burned stew
-mattered not and his hand dropped slack to
-his side; while his wife’s mouth, open for a
-wailing protest, hung open in gratified astonishment.
-He stared through the open door of
-the hut, not seeing the tufted trees beyond
-it or the curving skyline of the hills; then,
-taking mechanically his stout wooden spoon,
-he shovelled down his portion without tasting
-it. In his ears, like a song, was the varied
-speech of other days; of art, of daily mechanics,
-of books, of daily politics, of learning....
-Phillida, her curved hands touching the keys,
-gave place to the eager, bespectacled face of a
-scholar who had tried to make clear to him
-the rhythm and beauty of French verse. He
-had forgotten the man’s name—long forgotten
-it—but from some odd crevice in his brain a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>voice came echoing down the years, caressing
-the lines as it quoted them:—</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c008'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><span lang="co" xml:lang="co">O Corse à cheveux plats, que la France était belle</span></div>
- <div class='line'><span lang="co" xml:lang="co">Au soleil de Messidor!</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c006'>His own lips framed the words involuntarily,
-attempting the accent long unheard. “Au
-soleil de Messidor, au soleil de Messidor”&nbsp;...
-and his wife and children stared after him as,
-thrusting the half-eaten bowl aside, he rose
-and went out, muttering gibberish. They
-were not unused to these fits in the house-father,
-to the change in his eyes, the sudden forgetting
-of their presence; but never lost their fear
-of them as something uncanny and inexplicable.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With these masterful rushes of the past
-came often an infinite melancholy; which
-was not so much a regret for what had been as
-a sense of the pity of oblivion. So that he
-would lie outstretched with his face to the
-earth, rebellious at the thought that with him
-and a few of his own generation must pass all
-knowledge of human achievement, the very
-memory of that which had once been glorious.... Not only the memory of actual men whose
-fame had once been blown about the world;
-but the memory of sound, of music, and of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>marvels in stone, uplifted by the skill of
-generations; the memory of systems, customs,
-laws, wrought wisely by the hand of experience;
-and of fanciful people, more real than
-living men and women. With him and his
-like would pass not only Leonardo, Cæsar and
-the sun of Messidor, but Rosalind, d’Artagnan
-and Faust; the heroes, the merrymen, the
-women loved and loving who, created of
-dreams, had shared the dead world with their
-fellows created of dust.... Once deemed
-immortal, they had been slain by science as
-surely as their fellows of dust.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>At times he pondered vaguely whether he
-might not save the memory of some of them
-alive by teaching his children to love them;
-but in the end he realized that, as we grasp
-nothing save through ourselves and our own
-relation to it, the embodied desires and beauty
-of an inconceivable age would be meaningless
-to his young barbarians.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>If he ceased to believe in the survival of
-life as he had known it and a civilization that
-would reach out and claim him, there were
-times when he believed, or almost believed,
-that somewhere in the vastness of the great
-round world a remnant must hold fast to its
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>inheritance; when it was inconceivable that
-all men living could be sunk in brutishness or
-vowed to the creed of utter ignorance. Hunger
-and blind terror—(he knew, for he had seen it)—could
-reduce the highest to the level of the
-beast; but with the passing of terror and the
-satisfaction of the actual needs of the body,
-there awakens the hunger of the mind.
-Somewhere in the vastness of the great, round
-world must be those who, because they craved
-for more than full stomachs and daily security,
-still clung to the power which is knowledge.
-Little groups and companies that chance had
-brought together or good fortune saved from
-destruction; resourceful men who had striven
-with surrounding anarchy and worsted it,
-and, having worsted it, were building their
-civilization.... And in the very completeness
-of surrounding anarchy, the very depth
-of surrounding brutishness, would lie their
-opportunity and chance of supremacy, their
-power of enforcing their will.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>If such groups, such future nations, existed,
-he asked himself how they would build? What
-manner of world they would strive for—knowing
-what they knew?... This, at
-least, was certain: it would not be the world
-of their fathers, of their own youth. They
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>had seen their civilization laid waste by the
-agency of science combined with human
-passion; hence, if they rejected the alternative
-of ignorance and held to their perilous
-treasure of science, their problem was the
-mastery of passion.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He came to believe that the problem—like
-all others—had been faced in forgotten generations;
-that old centuries had learned the forgotten
-lesson that the Ruin was teaching anew.
-To a race that had realized the peril of knowledge
-there would be two alternatives only;
-renunciation—the creed of blind ignorance
-and savagery—or the guarding of science as a
-secret treasure, removed from all contact with
-the flame that is human emotion. There had
-been elder and long-past civilizations in which
-knowledge was a mystery, the possession and
-the privilege of a caste; tradition had come
-down to us of ancient wisdom which might
-only be revealed to the initiate.... A blind
-fear massacred its scientific men, a wiser fear
-exalted them and set them apart as initiates.
-When science and human emotion between
-them had wrought the extreme of destruction
-and agony, there passed the reckless and idealistic
-dream of a world where all might be
-enlightened; the aim and tradition of a social
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>system arising out of ruin would be the setting
-of an iron barrier between science and human
-emotion. That, and not enlightenment of all
-and sundry—the admission of the foolish, the
-impulsive and the selfish to a share in the
-power of destruction. The same need and
-instinct of self-preservation which had inspired
-the taking of the Vow of Ignorance would
-work, in higher and saner minds, for the
-training of a caste—an Egyptian priesthood—exempt
-from blind passion and the common
-impulse of the herd; a caste trained in silence
-and rigid self-control, its way of attainment
-made hard to the student, the initiate. The
-deadly formulæ of mechanics, electricity and
-chemistry would be entrusted only to those
-who had been purged of the daily common
-passions of the multitude; to those who, by
-trial after trial, had fettered their natural
-impulses and stripped themselves of instinct
-and desire.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>So, in times past, had arisen—and might
-again arise—a scientific priesthood whose
-initiates, to the vulgar, were magicians; a
-caste that guarded science as a mystery and
-confined the knowledge which is power of
-destruction to those who had been trained not
-to use it. The old lost learning of dead and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>gone kingdoms was a science shielded by its
-devotees from defilement by human emotion;
-a pure, cold knowledge, set apart and worshipped
-for itself.... And somewhere in the
-vastness of the great round world the beginnings
-of a priesthood, a scientific caste, might
-be building unconsciously on the lines of
-ancient wisdom, and laying the foundations
-of yet another Egypt or Chaldæa. A State
-whose growth would be rooted in the mystery
-of knowledge and fear of human passion;
-whose culture and civilization would be
-moulded by a living and terrible tradition of
-catastrophe through science uncontrolled....
-And, so long as the tradition was living and
-terrible, the initiate would stand guard before
-his mysteries, that the world might be saved
-from itself; only when humanity had forgotten
-its downfall and ruin had ceased to be
-even a legend, would the barrier between
-science and emotion be withdrawn and knowledge
-be claimed as the right of the uncontrolled,
-the multitude.</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Till his brain began to fail him he watched,
-in dumb interest, the life and development of
-the tribe; learning from it more than he had
-ever known in the world of his youth of the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>eternal foundations on which life in community
-is built. The unending struggle between
-the desire for freedom, which makes of man a
-rebel, and the need for security, which makes
-of him a citizen, was played before his understanding
-eyes; he watched parties, castes and
-priesthoods in the making and, before he died,
-could forecast the beginning of an aristocracy,
-a slave class and a tribal hereditary monarchy.
-In all things man untraditioned held blindly
-to the ways he had forgotten; instinctively,
-not knowing whither they led, he trod the
-paths that his fathers had trodden before him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Most of all he was stirred in his interest and
-pity by the life religious of the world around
-him; watching it adapt itself, steadily and
-naturally, to the needs of a race in its childhood.
-As a new generation grew up to its
-heritage of ignorance, the foundations of faith
-were shifted; as tribal life crystallized, gods
-multiplied inevitably and the Heaven ruled
-by a Supreme Being gave place to a crude
-Valhalla of minor deities. Man, who makes
-God in his own image, can only make that
-image in the likeness of his own highest type;
-which, in a world divided, insecure and predatory,
-is the type of the successful warrior; the
-Saviour, in a world divided and predatory,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>takes the form of a tribal deity who secures
-to his people the enjoyment of their fields by
-strengthening their hands against the assaults
-and the malice of their enemies. As always
-with those who live in constant fear and in
-hate of one another, the Lord was a Man of
-War; and when Theodore’s first grandson
-was received into the tribe, the deity to whom
-vows were made in the name of the child was
-already a local Jehovah. Faith saw him as a
-tribal Lord of Hosts, the celestial captain of
-his worshippers; if his worshippers walked
-humbly and paid due honour to his name he
-would stand before them in the day of battle
-and protect them with his shield invisible—would
-draw the sword of the Lord and of
-Gideon, show himself mightier than the priests
-of Baal and overthrow the altars of the Philistines.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>A god whose attributes are those of a
-warrior, of necessity is not omnipotent; since
-he fights, his authority is partial—assailed
-and disputed by those against whom he draws
-the sword. A race in its childhood evolved
-the deity it needed, a champion and upholder
-of his own people; to the tribal warrior the
-god to whom an enemy prayed for success was
-a rival of his own protector.... So the mind
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>primitive argued, more or less directly and
-consciously, making God in its image, for its
-own needs and purposes; and even in Theodore’s
-lifetime the deities worshipped by men
-from a distance were not those of his own
-country. The jurisdiction of the gods was
-limited and the stranger, of necessity, paid
-homage to an alien spirit who took pleasure in
-an unfamiliar ritual.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>In his lifetime the darkness of Heaven was
-unbroken and there emerged no god whose
-attribute was mercy and long-suffering; the
-Day of Judgment was still too recent, its
-memory too clear and overwhelming, to admit
-of the idea of a Divine Love or a Father who
-had pity on his children. Fear, and fear only,
-led his people to the feet of the Lord. The
-God of Vengeance of the first generation and
-the tribal superman who gradually ousted him
-from his pride of place were alike wrathful,
-jealous of their despotism and greedily expectant
-of mouth-honour. Hence, propitiation
-and ignorance were the whole religious duty
-of man, and the rites wherewith deity was duly
-worshipped were rites of crawling flattery and
-sacrifice.... The blood of sinners was acceptable
-in the sight of Heaven; the Lord Almighty
-had destroyed a world that he might
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>slake his vengeance, and his lineal descendants,
-the celestial warriors, rejoiced in the slaughter
-of those who had borne arms against their
-worshippers—in the end, rejoiced in blood for
-itself and the savour of the burnt sacrifice.
-And a race cowed spiritually (lest worse befall
-it) evolved its rites of sacrificial cruelty,
-paying tribute to a god who took ceaseless
-pleasure in the humbling of his people and
-could only be appeased by their suffering.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>There were seasons and regions where
-abasement produced its own reaction; when,
-for all the savour of sacrificial cruelty, the
-gods remained deaf to the prayers of their
-worshippers, delivered them into the hands of
-their enemies or chastened them with famine
-and pestilence. Hope of salvation beaten out
-of them, the worshippers, like rats driven into
-a corner, ceased to grovel and turned on the
-tyrants who had failed them; and the Lord
-Almighty Who made the heavens, shrunk to
-the dimensions of a local fetish, was upbraided
-and beaten in effigy.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Since it seemed that the new world must in
-all things follow in the ways of the old, the
-gentler deities who delighted not in blood would
-in due time reveal themselves to man grown
-capable of mercy. As the memory of judgment
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>faded with the centuries—as the earth
-waxed fruitful and life was kindlier—humanity
-would dare to lift its head from the dust
-and the life religious would be more than blind
-cringing to a despot. The Heaven of the
-future would find room for gods who were
-gracious and friendly; for white Baldurs and
-Olympians who walk with men and instruct
-them; and there would arise prophets whose
-message was not vengeance, but a call to
-“rejoice in the Lord.”&nbsp;... And in further
-time, it might be, the God who is a Spirit&nbsp;...
-and a Christ.... The rise, the long, slow
-upward struggle of the soul of man was as
-destined and inevitable as its fall; all human
-achievement, material or spiritual, was founded
-in the baseness of mire and clay—and rose
-towering above its foundations. As the State,
-which had its origin in no more than common
-fear and hatred, in the end would be honoured
-without thought of gain and its flag held
-sacred by its sons; so Deity, beginning as
-vengeance personified, would advance to a
-spiritual Law and a spiritual Love. When
-the power of loving returned to the race, it
-would cease to abase itself and lift up its
-eyes to a Father—endowing its Deity with
-that which was best in itself; when it achieved
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>and took pleasure in its own thoughts and the
-works of its hands, it would see in the Highest
-not the Vengeance that destroys but the
-Spirit that heals and creates.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Meanwhile the foundation of the life religious
-was, and must be, the timorous virtue
-of ignorance, of humble avoidance of inquiry
-into the dreadful secrets of God. In Theodore’s
-youth he had turned from the orthodox
-religions, which repelled by what seemed to
-him a fear of knowledge and inquiry; now he
-understood that man, being by nature destructive,
-can survive only when his powers of
-destruction are limited; and that the ignorance
-enjoined by priest and bigot had been—and
-would be again—an essential need of the
-race, an expression of the will to live....
-The jealous God who guards his secrets is the
-god of the race that survives.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>How many times—(he would wonder)—how
-many times since the world began to spin
-has man, in his eager search for truth, rushed
-blindly through knowledge to the ruin that
-means chaos and savagery? How many
-times, in his devout, instinctive longing to
-know his own nature and the workings of the
-Infinite Mind that created him has he wrought
-himself weapons that turned to his own destruction?...
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>Ignorance of the powers and
-forces of nature is a condition of human existence;
-as necessary to the continued life of
-the race as the breathing of air or the taking of
-food into the body. Behind the bench of
-zealots who judged Galileo lay the dumb race-memory
-of ruin—ruin, perhaps, many times
-repeated. They stood, the zealots, for that
-ignorance which, being interpreted, is life;
-and Galileo for that knowledge which, being
-interpreted, is death....</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Many times, it might be, since the world
-began to spin, had men called upon the rocks
-to cover them from the devils their own hands
-had fashioned; many times, it might be, a
-remnant had put from it the knowledge it
-dared not trust itself to wield—that it might
-not fall upon its own weapons, but live, just
-live, like the beasts! Behind the injunction
-to devout ignorance, behind the ecclesiastical
-hatred of science and distrust of brain, lay
-more than prejudice and bigotry; the prejudice
-and bigotry were but superficial and
-outward workings of instinct and the first law
-of all, the Law of Self-Preservation.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With his eyes open to the workings of that
-law, folk-tale and myth had long become real
-to him—since he saw them daily in the making....
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>The dragon that wasted a country with
-its breath—how else should a race that knew
-naught of chemistry account for the devilry
-of gas? And he understood now, why the
-legend of Icarus was a legend of disaster, and
-Prometheus, who stole fire from Heaven, was
-chained to eternity for his daring; he knew,
-also, why the angel with a flaming sword
-barred the gate of Eden to those who had tasted
-of knowledge.... The story of the Garden,
-of the Fall of Man, was no more the legend of
-his youth; he read it now, with his opened
-eyes, as a livid and absolute fact. A fact told
-plainly as symbol could tell it by a race that
-had put from it all memory of the science
-whereby it was driven from its ancient paradise,
-its garden of civilization.... How
-many times since the world began to spin had
-man mastered the knowledge that should
-make him like unto God, and turned, in
-agony of mind and body, from a power synonymous
-with death?</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>And how many times more, he wondered—how
-many times more?</p>
-
-<hr class='c007' />
-
-<p class='c006'>Theodore Savage lived to be a very old man;
-how old in years he could not have said, since,
-long before his memory failed him, he had lost
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>his count of time. But for fully a decade
-before he died he went humped and rheumatic,
-leaning on a stick, was blear-eyed, toothless
-and wizened; he had outlived all those who
-had begun the new world with him, and a son
-of his grandson was of those who—when the
-time came—dug a trench for his bones and
-shovelled loose earth on his head.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>He had no lack of care in his extreme old
-age—in part perhaps because the tribe
-grew to hold him in awe that increased with
-the years; the sole survivor of the legendary
-age that preceded the Ruin and Downfall of
-Man, he was feared in spite of his helplessness.
-He alone of his little community could remember
-the Ruin with any comprehension of its
-causes; he alone possessed in silence a share
-of that hidden and forbidden knowledge which
-had brought flaming judgment on the world.
-Here and there in the countryside were grey-headed
-men, his juniors by years, who could
-remember vaguely the horrors of a distant
-childhood—the sky afire, the crash of falling
-masonry, the panic, the lurking and the starving.
-These things they could remember like
-a nightmare past&nbsp;... but only remember,
-not explain. Behind Theodore’s bald forehead
-and dimmed, oozing eyes lay the understanding
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>of why and wherefore denied to those
-who dwelt beside him.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>For this reason Theodore Savage was
-treated with deference in the days of his senile
-helplessness. As he sat, half-blind, in the sun
-by the door of his hut, no one ever failed to
-greet him with respect in passing; while in
-most the greeting was more than a token of
-respect or kindliness—the sign and result of a
-nervous desire to propitiate. In the end he
-was credited with a knowledge of unholy arts,
-and the children of the tribe avoided and
-shrank from him, frightened by the gossip of
-their elders; so that village mothers found
-him useful as a bogy, arresting the tantrums
-of unruly brats by threats of calling in Old
-Bald-Head.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>Even in his lifetime legends clustered thick
-about him, and sickness or accident to man or
-beast was ascribed to the glance of his purblind
-eye or the malice of his vacant brain;
-while there was once—though he never knew
-or suspected it—an agitated and furtive discussion
-as to whether, for the good of the
-community, he should not be knocked on the
-head. The furtive discussion ended in discussion
-only—not because the advocates of
-mercy were numerous, but because no man was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>willing to lay violent hands on a wizard, for
-fear of what might befall him; and, the interlude
-over, the tribe relapsed into its customary
-timid respect for its patriarch, its customary
-practice of ensuring his goodwill by politeness
-and small offerings of victuals. These added
-to the old man’s comfort in his latter years—nor
-had he any suspicion of the motive that
-secured him both deference and dainties.</p>
-
-<p class='c006'>With his death the local legends increased
-and multiplied; the distorted, varied myths
-of the Ruin of Man and its causes showing an
-inevitable tendency to group themselves around
-one striking and mysterious figure, to make of
-that figure a cause and a personification of
-the Great Disaster. Theodore Savage, to those
-who came after, was Merlin, Frankenstein
-and Adam; the fool who tasted of forbidden
-fruit, the magician whose arts had brought
-ruin on a world, the devil-artisan whose unholy
-skill had created monsters that destroyed
-him. His grave was an awesome spot, apart
-from other graves, which the timorous avoided
-after dark; and, long after all trace of it had
-vanished, there clung to the neighbourhood a
-tradition of haunting and mystery.... To
-his children’s children his name was the symbol
-of a dead civilization; a civilization that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>had passed so completely from the ken of
-living man that its lost achievements, the
-manner of its ending, could only be expressed
-in symbol.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div><span class='small'>PRINTED BY GARDEN CITY PRESS, LETCHWORTH, ENGLAND.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='pbb'>
- <hr class='pb c010' />
-</div>
-<div class='figleft id002'>
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_1001'>1001</span>
-<img src='images/c_01.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c001'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><i>A Complete</i></div>
- <div class='line'><i>Catalogue of Books</i></div>
- <div class='line'><i>Published by</i></div>
- <div class='line'><i>Leonard Parsons, Ltd.</i></div>
- <div class='line'><i>Autumn</i></div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in2'>1921</div>
- </div>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>⁘ ⁘ ⁘ ⁘ ⁘</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='clear'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div><i>DEVONSHIRE STREET, BLOOMSBURY, LONDON</i></div>
- <div class='c010'><i>Telephone No.:</i> <i>Telegraphic Address</i>:</div>
- <div><i>Museum 964.</i> “<i>Erudite, Westcent, London</i>”</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1002'>1002</span></div>
-<div class='chapter ph2'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c001'>
- <div>CONTENTS</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<table class='table0' summary='CONTENTS'>
- <tr><td class='c011' colspan='2'>PART I</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <th class='c012'></th>
- <th class='c013'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'><span class='sc'>New and Forthcoming Works</span></td>
- <td class='c013'><a href='#Page_1003'>1003</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c011' colspan='2'>PART II</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'><span class='sc'>Subject Index</span></td>
- <td class='c013'><a href='#Page_1008'>1008</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c011' colspan='2'>PART III</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'><span class='sc'>Index to Titles and Authors</span></td>
- <td class='c013'><a href='#Page_1014'>1014</a></td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div><i>NOTE—All prices of books quoted in this Catalogue are net.</i></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1003'>1003</span></div>
-<div class='chapter ph2'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c001'>
- <div><span class='under'>NEW &amp; FORTHCOMING WORKS</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='section ph3'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>FICTION</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE FRUIT OF THE TREE, by <i>Hamilton
-Fyfe</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Mr. Hamilton Fyfe is an attentive social observer. He sees that
-the growing distaste of the more intellectual kind of women for
-motherhood is bound to have disturbing consequences. Just as in
-the past men sought in “gay” society distraction from aggravated
-domesticity, so now they are liable to crave for domestic joys as a
-relief from childless homes.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Without taking sides Mr. Fyfe describes such a case with an
-ever-present humour. He does not plead or preach: he is content
-to set forth problems of personality which have a vivid application
-in the everyday lives of us all.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>WOMEN AND CHILDREN, by <i>Hugh de
-Sélincourt</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='sc'>Mr. Havelock Ellis</span> writes: “This novel seems to be, in some
-ways, his most notable achievement.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Observer.</cite>—“This is the best novel that Mr. de Sélincourt has
-yet published.”</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>SARAH AND HER DAUGHTER, by <i>Bertha
-Pearl</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>This is a story of New York’s Ghetto, showing the Ghetto
-family as it lives from day to day.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The thing has never been done before. It is the first novel
-setting forth the whole world of the Ghetto and the emergence
-of the younger generation into the larger world of American life.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>It has the Potash and Perlmutter laugh, and the tears of the
-sufferers of all ages.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>A work of genuine humour and understanding realism.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1004'>1004</span>THE QUEST OF MICHAEL HARLAND, by
-<i>Nora Kent</i>. Crown 8vo, 8/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>In reviewing Miss Kent’s previous novel, “The Greater Dawn,”
-<cite>Land and Water</cite> said: “Mrs. Florence Barclay and Miss Ethel M.
-Dell have cause to tremble.” Her new story has the same fragrance
-and delicacy of sentiment that attracted readers in “The Greater
-Dawn,” and will, we feel confident, increase their number.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>GARTH, by <i>Mrs. J. O. Arnold</i>. Crown 8vo, 8/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Times.</cite>—“A thoroughly well-told ghost story.... It is admittedly
-exceptional and inexplicable, and in that lies its thrill.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Sheffield Telegraph.</cite>—“A very clever and exciting piece of work.
-Good ghost stories are none too common, and this one is very
-good.”</p>
-
-<div class='section ph3'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>GENERAL LITERATURE</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE MAKING OF AN OPTIMIST, by <i>Hamilton
-Fyfe</i>. Demy 8vo, 12/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='sc'>Claudius Clear</span> in the <cite>British Weekly</cite>: “Mr. Hamilton Fyfe
-has written a remarkable volume.... It is needless to say that
-the book is frank and able and interesting.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>H. M. T. in the <cite>Nation and Athenæum</cite>: “I hope Mr. Fyfe’s
-book will be widely read, because I think it must be unique.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><span class='sc'>H. W. Nevinson</span> in the <cite>Daily Herald</cite>: “A very remarkable and
-exhilarating book.”</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>DIVORCE (<span class='sc'>To-day and To-morrow</span>), by <i>C.
-Gasquoine Hartley</i>. Author of “The Truth about
-Woman,” “Sex Education and National Health.”
-Crown 8vo, 6/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>This book deals with many aspects on the subject. It shows
-historically how the present divorce laws developed and how
-closely they are still allied to the ancient ecclesiastical Canon Law.
-It proves that most Protestant countries have far more liberal
-laws, and that, but for accidents in the lives of our kings, our own
-laws would have been reformed in the 16th century. The harmful
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_1005'>1005</span>way in which the laws work against morality and the family is
-shown by an analysis of a number of present-day divorce suits.
-The present position in regard to proposals for an extension of the
-grounds of divorce is examined, and a contrast is drawn between
-our petrified laws and the liberal reforms introduced by those of
-English stock in the dominions over the seas. The author finally
-brings forward her own proposals and explains her own moral
-standards. She declares that ecclesiastical defenders of the present
-law do not understand the spirit of the Founder of Christianity.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>STRAY THOUGHTS AND MEMORIES, by
-the Late <i>James A. Rentoul, K.C., LL.D.</i> Edited by
-<i>L. Rentoul</i>. Demy 8vo, 18/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Times.</cite>—“Many racy anecdotes.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Daily Telegraph.</cite>—“Good stories abound.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Daily News.</cite>—“Racy and warm-hearted memories of a varied
-life&nbsp;... should be widely read.”</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>MY YEARS OF EXILE, by <i>Eduard Bernstein</i>.
-Translated by <i>Bernard Miall</i>. Demy 8vo, 15/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Times.</cite>—“Herr Bernstein is a calm and dispassionate observer&nbsp;... full of simple narrative and naïve reflection.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Morning Post.</cite>—“Of this country and its people he gives a very
-shrewd and sympathetic analysis&nbsp;... worth recording.”</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>A LADY DOCTOR IN BAKHTIARILAND,
-by <i>Dr. Elizabeth MacBean Ross</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Daily Mail.</cite>—“A really admirable and entertaining study.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Medical Times.</cite>—“An attractive volume which should make a
-wide appeal.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Geographical Journal.</cite>—“This book possesses a permanent value.”</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE KEREN HA-YESOD BOOK. Colonisation
-Problems of the Eretz-Israel (Palestine)
-Foundation Fund. Edited by The Publicity Department
-of the “Keren Ha-Yesod.” Crown 8vo, 2/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1006'>1006</span><strong><span class='under'>THE NEW ERA SERIES</span></strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>BREAKING POINT, by <i>Jeffery E. Jeffery</i>, with
-Foreword by <i>G. D. H. Cole</i>. Crown 8vo, 4/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>This book is an attempt to consider the future of civilisation in
-the light of the present world crisis. It speaks much for Mr.
-Jeffery’s optimism that while he manfully faces his facts and never
-in any way evades the issues, his book ends on a hopeful note.
-He believes that <i>now</i> is the time for mankind to turn the next
-corner on the road of progress and that ours is the opportunity to
-seize or to throw away.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>ECONOMIC MOTIVES IN THE NEW
-SOCIETY, by <i>J. A. Hobson</i>. Crown 8vo, 4/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Perhaps the most telling argument used against drastic schemes
-of economic reconstruction is that which holds that any system of
-public ownership and representative government of essential industries
-would break down because it would fail to create the necessary
-incentives to production and distribution. In this book Mr.
-Hobson examines this important question in detail. He analyses
-these “incentives” both from the producing and the consuming
-side and proposes many ways by which they might be not only
-retained but stimulated. He provides satisfactory answers to such
-questions as: Will the present standards of management, skill,
-workmanship and factory discipline be improved? Will the consumers
-benefit? Will people save? <i>i. e.</i> Will sufficient fresh capital
-be forthcoming for the further developments of industry?</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>It is a valuable book because it successfully counters the argument
-which has, on appearance at least, some show of reason behind it.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>LAND NATIONALISATION, by <i>A. Emil
-Davies, L.C.C.</i>, and <i>Dorothy Evans</i> (formerly
-Organiser, Land Nationalisation Society).
-Crown 8vo, 4/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>In the past the importance of the land problem has been neglected,
-but now the changed conditions brought about by the war call
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_1007'>1007</span>for increased production at home. This book shows that the
-present system of land ownership impedes production on every
-hand and stands in the way of almost every vital reform.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The authors contend that no solution of the serious problems
-that confront the community can be found until the nation itself
-becomes the ground landlord of the country in which it lives.
-They put forward a scheme for nationalisation complete in financial
-and administrative details, providing for the participation
-of various sections of the community in the management of
-the land.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>PROLETCULT, by <i>Eden</i> and <i>Cedar Paul</i> (authors
-of “Creative Revolution”). Crown 8vo, 4/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Education to-day, availing itself of the widest means, employing
-the press and the cinemas no less effectively than the schools,
-imposes upon the community the ideology, the cultured outlook,
-of the ruling class.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The authors contend that among the working classes there are
-many who strive for the realisation of a new culture.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>Proletcult (proletarian culture) organises and consolidates the
-thought-forces which will complete the overthrow of Capitalism.
-It will then inaugurate and build up the economic and social, the
-artistic and intellectual life of the “new era.” This great and
-far-reaching contemporary movement is the theme of “Proletcult.”</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>OPEN DIPLOMACY, by <i>E. D. Morel</i>. Crown
-8vo, 4/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>“Foreign Policy” and “Secret Diplomacy” continue to be terms
-invested with some kind of mysterious attributes. In this volume
-Mr. Morel endeavours to simplify a problem which still remains
-complicated and obscure to the general public. He shows us
-“foreign policy” as an influence working in our everyday lives.
-He brings “diplomacy” into our homes, and serves it up as a
-dish upon the breakfast table. He depicts us as helpless automata
-moving blindfolded in a world of make-believe until we secure an
-effective democratic control over the management of our foreign
-relations.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1008'>1008</span>THE NEW LABOUR OUTLOOK, by <i>Robert
-Williams</i>. Crown 8vo, 4/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Morning Post.</cite>—“An exceedingly shrewd and lively commentator
-on the significance of events&nbsp;... decidedly valuable.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Daily Herald.</cite>—“We hope this book will have a wide circulation,
-as it will enable all who read it to realise the difficulties before us.”</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>SOCIALISM AND PERSONAL LIBERTY,
-by <i>Robert Dell</i> (author of “My Second Country”).
-Crown 8vo, 4/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>“Personal Liberty in the Socialist State” is an old controversy,
-and the publishers feel that Mr. Dell’s new volume will evoke
-widespread interest and discussion.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The author shows that Socialism is not necessarily incompatible
-with personal freedom, or with individualism properly understood,
-but is rather an essential condition of both. He contends that
-economic freedom is unattainable under Capitalist conditions by
-any but the owners of capital and that individual liberty is being
-threatened by political democracy, which is becoming a tyranny
-of the majority.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>A NEW AGRICULTURAL POLICY, by <i>F.
-E. Green</i>. Crown 8vo, 4/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Times.</cite>—“His advocacy is clear and detailed, and his criticisms
-pointed&nbsp;... worth noting.”</p>
-
-<p class='c000'><cite>Glasgow Herald.</cite>—“Brightly and vigorously written by a shrewd
-observer.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter ph2'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c001'>
- <div><span class='under'>SUBJECT INDEX</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='section ph3'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>CRITICISM, POETRY &amp; BELLES-LETTRES</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c016'><strong><span class='under'>CRITICISM</span></strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>SOME CONTEMPORARY POETS, by <i>Harold
-Monro</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1009'>1009</span>SOME CONTEMPORARY NOVELISTS
-(<span class='sc'>Women</span>), by <i>R. Brimley Johnson</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>SOME CONTEMPORARY NOVELISTS
-(<span class='sc'>Men</span>), by <i>R. Brimley Johnson</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c016'><strong><span class='under'>POETRY</span></strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>WHEELS, 1920 (<span class='sc'>Fifth Cycle</span>), edited by <i>Edith
-Sitwell</i>. With cover design by <i>Gino Severini</i>.
-Crown 8vo, 6/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c016'><strong><span class='under'>BELLES-LETTRES</span></strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>CHILDREN’S TALES (from the Russian Ballet),
-by <i>Edith Sitwell</i>. With 8 four-colour reproductions
-of scenes from the Ballet, by <i>I. de B. Lockyer</i>.
-Crown 4to, 12/6.</p>
-
-<div class='section ph3'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>FICTION</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE FRUIT OF THE TREE, by <i>Hamilton
-Fyfe</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE WIDOW’S CRUSE, by <i>Hamilton Fyfe</i>.
-Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>SARAH AND HER DAUGHTER, by <i>Bertha
-Pearl</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>WOMEN AND CHILDREN, by <i>Hugh de
-Sélincourt</i>. Crown 8vo, 8/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE QUEST OF MICHAEL HARLAND, by
-<i>Nora Kent</i>. Crown 8vo, 8/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1010'>1010</span>THE GREATER DAWN, by <i>Nora Kent</i>.
-Crown 8vo, 7/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>GARTH, by <i>Mrs. J. O. Arnold</i>. Crown 8vo, 8/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE BURIED TORCH, by <i>Coralie Stanton</i> and
-<i>Heath Hosken</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE BISHOP’S MASQUERADE, by <i>W. Harold
-Thomson</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>SIDE ISSUES, by <i>Jeffery E. Jeffery</i> (author of
-“Servants of the Guns”). Crown 8vo, 6/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE INVISIBLE SUN, by <i>Bertram Munn</i>.
-Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>MIRIAM AND THE PHILISTINES, by <i>Alice
-Clayton Greene</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/-.</p>
-
-<div class='section ph3'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>GENERAL LITERATURE</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE MAKING OF AN OPTIMIST, by
-<i>Hamilton Fyfe</i>. Demy 8vo, 12/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>STRAY THOUGHTS AND MEMORIES, by
-<i>James A. Rentoul, K.C., LL.D.</i> Demy 8vo, 18/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>MY YEARS OF EXILE, by <i>Eduard Bernstein</i>.
-Translated by <i>Bernard Miall</i>. Demy 8vo, 15/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE KEREN HA-YESOD BOOK. Colonisation
-Problems of the Palestine Foundation Fund.
-Crown 8vo, 2/-.</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1011'>1011</span></div>
-<div class='section ph3'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>SOCIAL, POLITICAL &amp; ECONOMIC</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c016'><strong><span class='under'>THE NEW ERA SERIES</span></strong></p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div>Crown 8vo, 4/6.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c014'>NATIONALISATION OF THE MINES, by
-<i>Frank Hodges</i>. Second Impression.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>A NEW ARISTOCRACY OF COMRADESHIP,
-by <i>William Paine</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>WHAT I SAW IN RUSSIA, by <i>George
-Lansbury</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>AFTER THE PEACE, by <i>H. N. Brailsford</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>PUBLIC OWNERSHIP OF THE LIQUOR
-TRADE, by <i>Arthur Greenwood</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>LABOUR AND NATIONAL FINANCE by
-<i>Philip Snowden</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>A POLICY FOR THE LABOUR PARTY,
-by <i>J. Ramsay MacDonald</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>DIRECT ACTION, by <i>William Mellor</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>A NEW AGRICULTURAL POLICY, by <i>F.
-E. Green</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE NEW LABOUR OUTLOOK, by <i>Robert
-Williams</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>BREAKING POINT, by <i>Jeffery E. Jeffery</i>, with
-Foreword by <i>G. D. H. Cole</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>PROLETCULT, by <i>Eden</i> and <i>Cedar Paul</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1012'>1012</span>LAND NATIONALISATION, by <i>A. Emil
-Davies</i> and <i>Dorothy Evans</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>SOCIALISM AND PERSONAL LIBERTY,
-by <i>Robert Dell</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>ECONOMIC MOTIVES IN THE NEW
-SOCIETY, by <i>J. A. Hobson</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>OPEN DIPLOMACY, by <i>E. D. Morel</i>.</p>
-
-<p class='c016'><strong><span class='under'>SOCIAL STUDIES SERIES</span></strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>PARLIAMENT AND DEMOCRACY, by
-<i>J. Ramsay MacDonald</i>. Crown 8vo, 3/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>RELIGION IN POLITICS, by <i>Arthur Ponsonby</i>.
-Crown 8vo, 6/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>LIFE AND TEACHING OF KARL MARX,
-by <i>M. Beer</i>. Crown 8vo, 5/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>SOCIALISM AND CO-OPERATION, by
-<i>L. S. Woolf</i>. Crown 8vo, 5/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c016'><strong><span class='under'>MISCELLANEOUS</span></strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>GUILD SOCIALISM—RE-STATED, by <i>G. D.
-H. Cole, M.A.</i> Crown 8vo, 6/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>DIVORCE (<span class='sc'>To-day and To-morrow</span>), by <i>C.
-Gasquoine Hartley</i>. Crown 8vo, 6/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1013'>1013</span>SEX EDUCATION AND NATIONAL
-HEALTH, by <i>C. Gasquoine Hartley</i>. Crown 8vo,
-6/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE NEW LIBERALISM, by <i>C. F. G.
-Masterman</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE CORPORATION PROFITS TAX, by
-<i>Raymond W. Needham</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE GREAT RE-BUILDING, by <i>H. Denston
-Funnell, F.S.I.</i> Demy 8vo, 15/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE MARCH TOWARDS SOCIALISM, by
-<i>Edgard Milhaud</i>. Translated by <i>H. J. Stenning</i>.
-Crown 8vo, 8/6.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>RED RUBBER, by <i>E. D. Morel</i>. Crown 8vo,
-6/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>THE BLACK MAN’S BURDEN, by <i>E. D.
-Morel</i>. Crown 8vo, 6/-.</p>
-
-<div class='section ph3'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>TRAVEL</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<p class='c014'>A WEST COUNTRY PILGRIMAGE, by
-<i>Eden Phillpotts</i>. With 16 three-colour illustrations by
-<i>A. T. Benthall</i>, tipped on mounts. Buckram, crown
-4to, 21/-.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>A LADY DOCTOR IN BAKHTIARILAND,
-by <i>Dr. Elizabeth MacBean Ross</i>. Crown 8vo, 7/6.</p>
-
-<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1014'>1014</span></div>
-<div class='chapter ph2'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c001'>
- <div><span class='under'>INDEX TO TITLES AND AUTHORS</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<table class='table1' summary='INDEX TO TITLES AND AUTHORS'>
-<colgroup>
-<col width='4%' />
-<col width='63%' />
-<col width='31%' />
-</colgroup>
- <tr><th class='c011' colspan='3'>INDEX TO TITLES</th></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <th class='c012'></th>
- <th class='c012'>&nbsp;</th>
- <th class='c017'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></th>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>After the Peace,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Brailsford, H. N.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Bishop’s Masquerade, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Thomson, W. Harold</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Black Man’s Burden,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Morel, E. D.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Breaking Point,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1006'>1006</a>, <a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Jeffery, Jeffery E.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Buried Torch, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Stanton, Coralie and Hosken, Heath</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Children’s Tales (from the Russian Ballet),</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Sitwell, Edith</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Corporation Profits Tax, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Needham, Raymond W.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Direct Action,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Mellor, William</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Divorce—To-day and To-morrow,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1004'>1004</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Hartley, C. Gasquoine</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Economic Motives in the New Society,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1006'>1006</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Hobson, J. A.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Fruit of the Tree, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1003'>1003</a>, <a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Fyfe, Hamilton</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Garth,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1004'>1004</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Arnold, Mrs. J. O.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Great Rebuilding, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Funnell, H. Denston</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Greater Dawn, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Kent, Nora</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Guild Socialism—Restated,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Cole, G. D. H.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Invisible Sun, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Munn, Bertram</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Keren Ha-Yesod Book, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1005'>1005</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Edited by the Keren Ha-Yesod Publicity Department</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Labour and National Finance,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Snowden, Philip</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Lady Doctor in Bakhtiariland, A,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1005'>1005</a>, <a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Ross, Elizabeth MacBean</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Land Nationalisation—A Practical Scheme,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1006'>1006</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Davies, Emil and Evans, Dorothy</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Life and Teaching of Karl Marx,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Beer, M.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Making of an Optimist, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1004'>1004</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Fyfe, Hamilton</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>March Towards Socialism, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Milhaud, Edgard</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Miriam and the Philistines,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Greene, Alice Clayton</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>My Years of Exile,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1005'>1005</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Bernstein, Eduard</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Nationalisation of the Mines,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Hodges, Frank</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>New Agricultural Policy, A,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1008'>1008</a>, <a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Green, F. E.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>New Aristocracy of Comradeship, A,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Paine, William</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>New Labour Outlook, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1008'>1008</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Williams, Robert</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>New Liberalism, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Masterman, C. F. G.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Open Diplomacy,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1007'>1007</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Morel, E. D.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Parliament and Democracy,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>MacDonald, J. R.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Policy for the Labour Party, A,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>MacDonald, J. R.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Proletcult,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1007'>1007</a>, <a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Paul, Eden and Cedar</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Public Ownership of the Liquor Trade,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Greenwood, Arthur</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1015'>1015</span>Quest of Michael Harland, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1003'>1003</a>, <a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Kent, Nora</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Red Rubber,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Morel, E. D.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Religion in Politics,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Ponsonby, Arthur</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Sarah and Her Daughter,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1003'>1003</a>, <a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Pearl, Bertha</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Sex Education and National Health,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Hartley, C. Gasquoine</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Side Issues,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Jeffery, Jeffery E.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Socialism and Co-operation,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Woolf, L. S.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Socialism and Personal Liberty,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1008'>1008</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Dell, Robert</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Some Contemporary Novelists (Men),</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Johnson, R. Brimley</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Some Contemporary Novelists (Women),</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Johnson, R. Brimley</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Some Contemporary Poets,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1008'>1008</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Monro, Harold</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Stray Thoughts and Memories,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1005'>1005</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Rentoul, James A.</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>West Country Pilgrimage, A,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Phillpotts, Eden</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>What I saw in Russia,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Lansbury, George</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Wheels, 1920 (Fifth Cycle),</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Edited by Sitwell, Edith</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Widow’s Cruse, The,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Fyfe, Hamilton</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Women and Children,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1003'>1003</a>, <a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Sélincourt, Hugh de</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><th class='c011' colspan='3'>INDEX TO AUTHORS</th></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Arnold, Mrs. J. O.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1004'>1004</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Garth. 8/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Beer, M.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Life and Teaching of Karl Marx. 6/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Bernstein, Eduard,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1005'>1005</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>My Years of Exile. 15/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Brailsford, H. N.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>After the Peace. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Cole, G. D. H.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Guild Socialism—Restated. 6/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Davies, Emil,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1006'>1006</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Land Nationalisation. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Dell, Robert,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1008'>1008</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Socialism and Personal Liberty. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Evans, Dorothy,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1006'>1006</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Land Nationalisation. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Funnell, H. Denston,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Great Rebuilding. 15/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Fyfe, Hamilton,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1003'>1003</a>, <a href='#Page_1004'>1004</a>, <a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Fruit of the Tree. 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Making of an Optimist. 12/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Widow’s Cruse. 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Green, F. E.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1008'>1008</a>, <a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>A New Agricultural Policy. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Greene, Alice Clayton,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Miriam and the Philistines. 7/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Greenwood, Arthur,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Public Ownership of the Liquor Trade. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'><span class='pageno' id='Page_1016'>1016</span>Hartley, C. Gasquoine,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1004'>1004</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a>, <a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Divorce—To-day and To-morrow. 6/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Sex Education and National Health. 6/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Hobson, J. A.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1006'>1006</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Economic Motives in the New Society. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Hodges, Frank,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Nationalisation of the Mines. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Hosken, Heath,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Buried Torch. 7/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Jeffery, Jeffery E.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1006'>1006</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a>, <a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Breaking Point. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Side Issues. 6/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Johnson, R. Brimley,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Some Contemporary Novelists (Men). 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Some Contemporary Novelists (Women). 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Kent, Nora,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1003'>1003</a>, <a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Greater Dawn. 7/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Quest of Michael Harland. 8/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Keren Ha-Yesod, Publicity Department,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1005'>1005</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Keren Ha-Yesod Book. 2/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Lansbury, George,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>What I saw in Russia. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>MacDonald, J. Ramsay,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a>, <a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Parliament and Democracy. 3/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>A Policy for the Labour Party. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Masterman, C. F. G.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The New Liberalism. 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Mellor, William,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Direct Action. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Milhaud, Edgard,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The March towards Socialism. 8/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Monro, Harold,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1008'>1008</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Some Contemporary Poets. 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Morel, E. D.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1007'>1007</a>, <a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a>, <a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Black Man’s Burden. 6/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Open Diplomacy. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Red Rubber. 6/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Munn, Bertram,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Invisible Sun. 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Needham, Raymond W.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Corporation Profits Tax. 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Paine, William,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>A New Aristocracy of Comradeship. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Paul, Eden and Cedar,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1007'>1007</a>, <a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Proletcult. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Pearl, Bertha,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1003'>1003</a>, <a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Sarah and Her Daughter. 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Phillpotts, Eden,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>A West Country Pilgrimage. 21/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Ponsonby, Arthur,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Religion in Politics. 5/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Rentoul, James A.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1005'>1005</a>, <a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Stray Thoughts and Memories. 18/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Ross, Elizabeth MacBean,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1005'>1005</a>, <a href='#Page_1013'>1013</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>A Lady Doctor in Bakhtiariland. 7/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Sélincourt, Hugh de,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1003'>1003</a>, <a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Women and Children. 8/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Sitwell, Edith,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1009'>1009</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Children’s Tales (from the Russian Ballet). 12/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Wheels—1920. 6/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Snowden, Philip,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Labour and National Finance. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Stanton, Coralie,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Buried Torch. 7/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Thomson, W. Harold,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1010'>1010</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The Bishop’s Masquerade. 7/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Williams, Robert,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1008'>1008</a>, <a href='#Page_1011'>1011</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>The New Labour Outlook. 4/6</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
- <tr><td>&nbsp;</td></tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012' colspan='2'>Woolf, L. S.,</td>
- <td class='c017'><a href='#Page_1012'>1012</a></td>
- </tr>
- <tr>
- <td class='c012'>&nbsp;</td>
- <td class='c012'>Socialism and Co-operation. 5/-</td>
- <td class='c017'>&nbsp;</td>
- </tr>
-</table>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div><i>LEONARD PARSONS LIMITED</i></div>
- <div class='c010'>[<i>Printed in Great Britain by R. Clay &amp; Sons, Ltd., Bungay, Suffolk.</i>]</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='pbb'>
- <hr class='pb c010' />
-</div>
-<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'>
-
-<div class='chapter ph2'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c1'>
-<div class='nf-center c001'>
- <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
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- <ol class='ol_1 c002'>
- <li>P. <a href='#t70'>70</a>, changed “moral” to “morale”.
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- <li>P. <a href='#t215'>215</a>, changed “tailing” to “trailing”.
-
- </li>
- <li>Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
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- </li>
- <li>Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.
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