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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75518 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ THE
+ JUST STEWARD
+
+
+ BY
+
+ RICHARD DEHAN
+
+ AUTHOR OF "THE DOP DOCTOR," "BETWEEN
+ TWO THIEVES," ETC.
+
+
+
+ NEW YORK
+ GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1922,
+ BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
+
+
+ THE JUST STEWARD. II
+
+ PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+ _TO THAT DAY WHEN ALL FAITHS
+ SHALL BE MERGED IN ONE FAITH.
+ TO THE HOPE THAT LIVES WAITING
+ THE OPENING OF THE GATE._
+
+
+ _Beeding, Sussex,
+ July 5, 1922._
+
+
+
+
+ CONTENTS
+
+
+ _Book the First:_
+ THE SEEKING
+
+ _Book the Second:_
+ THE SENDING
+
+ _Book the Third:_
+ THE FINDING
+
+ _Book the Fourth:_
+ THE PASSING
+
+
+
+
+_PREFATORY NOTE By THE AUTHOR_
+
+_This is a work of fiction and the characters moving through its
+Pages are imaginary, save in the instance of Hamid Bey, whose
+sinister activities were exercised as Commandant of a War Prisoners'
+Camp near Smyrna in 1917. Care has been exercised to avoid the use
+of surnames and titles belonging to actual persons. Where these have
+been inadvertently employed, apology is made beforehand._
+
+
+
+
+THE JUST STEWARD
+
+
+_Book the First:_ THE SEEKING
+
+
+
+I
+
+Beautiful even with the trench and wall of Diocletian's comparatively
+recent siege scarring the orchards and vineyards of Lake Mareotis,
+splendid even though her broken canals and aqueducts had never been
+repaired, and part of her western quarter still displayed heaps of
+calcined ruins where had been temples, palaces and academies,
+Alexandria lay shimmering under the African sun. Between the
+turquoise of the Mediterranean on the north and west, the beryl green
+of the Delta on the east, and the flaming opal of the Desert south
+and again east of the Delta, the Queen city of the dead old
+Ptolemies, set about with vineyards, fair orchards and stately
+palm-groves stretching in a broad band of shade and fruitfulness from
+the Lake across the Desert, and fringing both sides of the Nilotic
+canal, well merited the title: "Queen Emerald of the Jewelled
+Girdle," bestowed upon her by the librarian who unloaded upon
+Posterity a geographical treatise in heroic verse.
+
+The vintage of Egypt was in full swing, the figs and dates were being
+harvested. Swarms of wasps and hornets, armed with formidable
+stings, yellow-striped like the dreaded nomads of the south and
+eastern frontiers, greedily sucked the sugary juices of the ripe
+fruit. Flocks of fig-birds twittered amongst the branches, being
+like the date-pigeons, almost too gorged to fly. Half-naked,
+earth-brown or tawny-skinned native labourers, hybrids of mingled
+races, with heads close-shaven save for a topknot; dwellers in
+mud-hovels, drudges of the water-wheel, cut down the heavy
+grape-clusters with sickle-shaped copper knives.
+
+Ebony, woolly-haired negroes in clean white breech-cloths, piled up
+the gathered fruit in tall baskets woven of reeds and lined with
+leaves. Copts with the rich reddish skins, the long eyes and
+boldly-curving profiles of Egyptian warriors and monarchs as
+represented on the walls of ancient temples of Libya and the Thebaïd,
+moved about in leather-girdled blue linen tunics and hide sandals,
+keeping account of the laden panniers, roped upon the backs of
+diminutive asses, and carried to the wine-presses as fast as they
+were filled. There would be a glut of the thin sweet drink that was
+exported in clay flagons with round bases; a vintage as disesteemed
+in the era of the last Queen Cleopatra by the wine-bibbing
+Alexandrians, as to-day under the joint sway of the Emperor
+Diocletian and his co-regent, the swineherd Maximianus.
+
+The negroes sang as they set snares, and the fig-birds beloved of the
+epicurean fell by hundreds into the limed horse-hair traps. Greek,
+Egyptian and negro girls, laughing under garlands of hibiscus,
+periwinkle and tuberoses, coaxed the fat morsels out of the black men
+to carry home for a supper-treat; while acrobats, comic singers,
+sellers of cakes, drinks and sweetmeats, with strolling jugglers and
+jesters, and Jewish fortune-tellers of both sexes, assailed the
+workers and the merrymakers with importunities, and made harvest in
+their own way.
+
+Despite the scars left by the siege of Diocletian,--whose clemency in
+stopping the pillage of the city was recalled by a bronze statue of
+the tyrant, placed on the summit of a column in the middle of the
+Serapium,--Alexandria was still not only mistress of her own huge
+trade in corn, but the port through which the European trade of India
+and Arabia passed.
+
+The Great Port and its fellow basin of Eunostus were crowded with
+shipping both native and foreign, the quays were choked with
+merchandise of innumerable kinds, and thronged with men of all the
+world's known nations. The copper-hued Egyptian, the diamond-eyed,
+sharp-witted Greek, the olive-skinned, aquiline-featured Hebrew with
+his furred robe, high headdress, long beard and side-curls, jostled
+the supple Italian, the lively Gaul, the slow Boeotian, and the
+Ethiopian cloaked with leopard-skins, displaying ivory rings in his
+dark ears, and on his arms and fingers, and ivory suns and moons
+suspended from a thread of sacred knots upon his naked breast. Here
+merchants from the scarce-known Tsin State, south of Hind,
+pig-tailed, slant-eyed men in cartwheel hats of woven grass,
+embroidered silks and felt-soled shoes--again encountered, on this
+neutral soil of Egypt, their ancient enemy, the Tartar. Here also
+were Hindu Buddhist pilgrims wearing yellow robes, and carrying
+begging-bowls and armpit-crutches, Fire-worshippers in snowy white,
+and Persian merchants in long-sleeved caftans and tall lambskin
+headdresses. The nomad of the Desert--his black leather head-veil
+bound by thongs about his lean, brown temples, his great striped
+mantle of camel's hair cast about his painted nakedness, bartering
+spices and frankincense from Arabia Felix, for gold and silver
+jewellery and strings of pink and blue pearls from the eastern shores
+of the Red Sea to deck his womankind, rubbed shoulders with the
+Scythian, thick of tongue, solid of bone and heavy of shoulder,
+bow-legged with continual riding, his shaggy head protected by a
+cone-shaped cap of hairy horse-hide, his back cloaked, his feet shod,
+and his loins clouted with tanned horse-leather, which also covered
+his brass-nailed shield and sheathed his short iron sword. And among
+the slaves of many nations, staggering under great crates and bales
+between the quays and the warehouses, were seen huge semi-naked men
+with matted yellow hair, and blue or grey eyes; whose white skins
+were decorated with animals, birds and flowers traced in blue
+pigment, and upon whose limbs were soldered the heavy bronze anklet
+and armlet, with rings to accommodate a chain, often needed by the
+refractory slave.
+
+
+"They are Britons," the Alexandrians would say, fanning themselves
+and smiling. "We have mercenaries of the race in our Tenth Legion,
+but these are dull fellows, too stupid to fight. What can you expect
+from a country that produces nothing but tin and oysters? Strong
+slaves and comely enough, but dangerous when goaded. And in
+captivity they never laugh!"
+
+A charge which could not be laid to the accusers, for ground as they
+were to the earth beneath the iron heel of a despotic Roman
+government, the Alexandrians laughed in season and out. They made
+their successive rulers dread to provoke the onslaughts of their
+waspish ridicule. Wit was the point of the dagger that could find
+its way through a tyrant's harness, a venomed jest could make him
+writhe with much more safety to the community than the contents of
+the poison-phial dropped into the dish before its cover was put on,
+and the steward's clay seal affixed. They were tepid in their
+religion, vain, proud, boastful and spiteful, unstable in their
+friendships, languid in business, indifferent to reputation, fickle
+in friendship, furious in lust, unrelenting in vengeance, merciless
+in jealousy, cold in their natural affections, and faithless in love.
+They wrote no histories, but had a cultured taste in cookery,
+perfumes, dress, music and dancing; erotic poetry, and exotic vice;
+and on the stars of the theatre, of the Gymnasium and the Hippodrome,
+they lavished all the enthusiasm they possessed. The famous
+charioteer, the great singer or dancer, the comic actor whose jokes
+set the whole city in a roar; the unconquerable wrestler, or
+swordsman, or pugilist who happened to be the idol of the moment,
+daily walked surrounded by his admirers on the promontory of Lochias,
+or in the public gardens under the palm-groves, attired in the
+scarlet robes of the ultra-fashionable, loaded with jewelled
+necklaces, carrying in gem-encrusted fingers a golden-handled fan of
+flamingo or parrots' feathers, and wearing scented garlands on his
+crimped and perfumed hair. Banquets were given to famous
+fighting-cocks, which, perched at the right hand of the couch of the
+host, fed upon sesame from golden platters, and sipped distilled
+water from precious bowls of white and purple Murrhine spar.
+
+
+Amidst the luxury and corruption of this city, whose roaring floods
+of traffic rolled between buildings marvellously diverse in their
+mingling of Egyptian, Greek, Roman and Semitic styles of
+architecture, the clash of creeds was never wanting, and ancient
+faiths and newer revelations struggled for supremacy. The glorious
+psalms of David, rising from the Synagogue, mingled with the shrill
+rattle of the sistrum, and the strains of the hymn addressed to Isis,
+the goddess of the Throned Moon. Serapis, lord of the under-world,
+was yet worshipped though the Serapium lay in ruins,--the Persian
+Mithra had his following, and the annual festival of Pan was
+celebrated in the temple--wrought in pink African granite to the
+semblance of a phallus, that dwarfed every other building in
+Alexandria save the Lighthouse of the Pharos, soaring four hundred
+feet above its base of Cyclopæan rock. And a purer and more radiant
+light than that of the Pharos burned in Alexandria, where the
+Mysteries of the Catholic Church of CHRIST were celebrated in temples
+converted from the service of the deities of Egypt, Greece, and Rome.
+
+The four hundred columns of the ruined Serapium overhung the
+quadrangle of thick-walled, buttressed stone buildings where the
+Christian Patriarch, his clergy, monks, deacons and aspirants were
+unpretendingly housed. Of his followers, religious and secular,
+thirty thousand mustered in Alexandria, whilst the lay helpers,
+organised in the vast Guild of the Parabolani, literally "_those who
+expose themselves to danger_" laboured by day and night amongst the
+miserable, the homeless, the famine-bitten and the fever-stricken,
+rotting in the purlieus, the prisons and the poorest quarters of the
+city, sufferers chiefly of Greek and Egyptian nationality, for the
+population of the teeming Jewish quarter were as always, charitable
+to their own. Thus Christian schools and orphanages were set up,
+supported and instructed; hospitals established, staffed and
+maintained; catechumens brought to the priests for instruction, and
+the dead buried with all decency by Christian men who went forth in
+the coarse habit of sackcloth, with the cowl that covered the entire
+face, and only showed the eyes.
+
+The persecution of Maximianus, much more severe than that following
+the issue of the New Law of Diocletian, had now exposed the
+disgraceful practices of these besotted dupes. For weeks past the
+city had buzzed and stung like a veritable nest of hornets, poked
+into venomous life by the secret activities of Arius the Presbyter,
+the open malevolence of the Pagans, and the bitter enmity of the Jews.
+
+The deceased Prefect of Egypt had been a ruler not favourably
+disposed towards the Christians. By his successor, Mettius Rufus,
+the savage Imperial edict was ruthlessly enforced.
+
+Christian prelates, priests, monks, nuns, deaconesses and catechumens
+had been arrested, imprisoned, executed or tortured by the soldiers
+of the Third Egyptian Legion,--far more accustomed of late years to
+quelling street riots and displaying their glittering harness and
+handsome persons at military and civic spectacles, than to making
+wholesale battues of unarmed and unresisting men and women.
+Detachments of cohorts stationed throughout Libya were sent to raid
+the hermitages, monasteries and nunneries on the Nile banks and upon
+the borders of the Desert. At Mount Nitria and in Scete as at
+Scyras, they had made many captures; though at Tabenna in the
+Thebaïd, where the venerable Abbot Pachomius had gathered about him
+thirteen hundred followers, so stout a resistance was made by the
+monks, with staves, great stones and boiling pitch and water, that
+three maniples of soldiers of the Fourth Lusitanian Legion, compelled
+to abandon the siege, returned, to exhibit their wounds and burns to
+Perocles, the military prefect of Apollinopolis, entreating him with
+tears of rage, to send them back in sufficient force to wipe out the
+shame of defeat sustained at such abominable hands.
+
+All classes of society were sifted by a process which netted a number
+of suspects. Amongst the labourers in the vineyards, the toilers on
+the quays, in the thronged marts of commerce, as amongst the crowds
+at the baths, the lecture-halls, the theatre, the Gymnasium and the
+Hippodrome, moved close-lipped, silent men in plain clothing, with
+sharp, greedy ears and keen, observant eyes. These were called The
+Listeners, and carried in the sleeve short rods tipped with a gilt
+Roman Eagle, and the maw of that fierce and bloody bird was never
+satisfied. Apostasy was rewarded by temporary immunity. Obduracy
+merited what it received, in banishment to the mines, forfeiture of
+property, exile, slavery or torture to the death. Many persons
+accused, even before coming into Court, renounced the Faith and
+reverted to Paganism, or after imprisonment and some degree of
+torture, sacrificed, and were set free. Yet others escaped into
+Syria, where the law, though the same in effect, was less
+unmercifully carried out. But others who held public posts were
+fettered by their official duties, and even had it been possible,
+would have scorned to seek safety in flight.
+
+ "_Whither wouldst thou go, O My Servant
+ Whom I have chosen to die for Me?_"
+
+
+In the case of certain men and women, wealthy or poor, highly placed
+or humble, the Voice that speaks to the destined martyr cried and
+would not be shut out. Thus the comic singer Metras whose impromptu
+verses were wont to set the whole city in a roar, the famous
+retiarius Apollos, conqueror in twenty battles against armed
+gladiators, and the aged historian Sinias, confessed themselves
+Christians and were dragged away to death.
+
+Hesychius, the editor of the Septuagint, heard the call as he worked
+amongst the rolls of papyri in his study, and like others, he
+sustained the ordeal and claimed the crown and palm. And it came to
+the noble Roman, Philoremus Florens Fabius, Prætor of the taxes of
+Egypt, and a personal friend of the Prefect: Fabius, who sat daily in
+public as a judge in Alexandria, purple-robed, attended by lictors,
+_librarii_ and _commentarienses_; surrounded by a guard of the Third
+Egyptian Legion; deciding all causes relative to the taxes, and
+administering the law....
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+The official and private dwelling of Philoremus Fabius was a handsome
+building of Roman architecture, situated in the fashionable Street of
+the Winds, south of the quadruple marble gateway that marked the
+junction of the city's four great thoroughfares; running east from
+the Canopic Gate, west from the Gate of the Necropolis; and
+respectively north and south from the Gates of the Sun, and of the
+Moon.
+
+Before the gnomon of the sun-dial on the column of the Forum
+indicated the hour previous to noon-day, a traveller mounted on a
+large white mule, and followed by an attendant riding a dun-coloured
+animal, and leading another laden with baggage, reined out of the
+double stream of horse-drawn, carved, painted and gilded chariots
+conveying fashionables of both sexes; litters and chairs borne by
+slaves; burdened camels guided by negroes or Saracens; curled and
+scarlet-robed dandies walking with boon companions, fiery barbs
+bestridden by Roman officers; and little asses carrying Copts or
+Jews,--that ceaselessly traversed the Street of the Winds.
+
+As the small hoofs of the mules slipped on the uneven flagstones
+before the mansion of the Prætor of Taxes, the man on the white mule
+uttered an involuntary cry. His eyes had fallen on a square plaque
+of bronze fixed on the wall beside the courtyard entrance, displaying
+the device of the Roman Imperial Eagle with the thunderbolt, above
+the name and official titles of the master of the house. A narrow
+strip of parchment some twelve inches long, secured by an official
+seal at either extremity, was pasted across the name of Philoremus
+Fabius and inscribed with the words;
+
+ "_SUSPENDED FROM OFFICE UNDER
+ SUSPICION OF CHRISTIANITY._"
+
+
+The seal was that of Lollius Maxius, governor of Alexandria, a
+personal friend of the official thus disgraced.
+
+For a moment the rider of the white mule remained with open mouth and
+staring eyeballs, livid as a mask of yellow wax under the hood of his
+black riding-cloak of felted camel's hair. His strongly marked
+visage with its arched black eyebrows, large mobile black eyes and
+boldly curving profile, showed, like the face of his attendant, the
+characteristics of the Jewish race. Large rings set with beryls were
+in his ears, and massive bracelets of gold clasped his swarthy arms
+above the elbow; while his carefully curled hair was protected from
+the dust of travel by a square-shaped bag of fine black leather,
+embroidered with seed-pearls. He endeavoured to control his voice,
+but it shook as he said to his companion, in Hebrew:
+
+"Now in the name of the God of our forefathers! ... Tell me, O Ezra,
+son of Ephraim! do I see the thing that is, or that which is not? It
+may be that the fever I suffered at Joppa still troubles my brain and
+heats my blood!"
+
+His eyes had entreaty in them as he appealed to the other, and his
+pallor grew more livid as he heard the reply:
+
+"Health is yours, O Hazaël, son of Hazaël, but misfortune has
+befallen our master. He is suspected of Christianity, and suspended
+from office under the Governor's seal."
+
+"Some enemy hath done this thing!" said Hazaël fiercely. "Be the
+Mighty One blessed that I have speedily returned home! Hold the
+mule's rein while I knock upon these doors that were never shut till
+now in the face of Hazaël."
+
+And hastily dismounting while Ezra held the stirrup, Hazaël plucked a
+metal-shod staff from a bucket-holster slung behind his saddle, and
+beat loudly upon the bronze doors fixed in a frame of square beams of
+yellow Numidian marble, until a metal bolt groaned in its grooves of
+stone, a leaf of the door moved inwards, and the black face of an
+Ethiopian slave peered out between the valves. White eyeballs and
+dazzling teeth flashed in the ebony visage:
+
+"By Isis the Dog Star!" he jabbered in his bastard Græco Egyptian,
+"The Jew Hazaël has come back to us again!"
+
+"Son of abomination, make way!" said Hazaël, violently thrusting back
+the door upon the astonished Ethiopian, and striding into the
+vestibule, over a square of mosaic let into the marble pavement,
+representing a black dog spotted with white, secured by a chain
+attached to a red leather collar, and displaying a formidable
+mouthful of teeth as in the act to bite. A second Ethiopian,
+liveried like the first in a green tunic with a broad girdle covered
+with plates of silver, stooped low in humble salutation, touching
+with his yellowish fingertips the booted feet of the Jew.
+
+The walls of the vestibule, from either side of which opened a
+waiting-room for clients, were painted light red, divided into panels
+by a vertical ornament, a black caduceus wreathed with a vine. Along
+the base of either wall ran a broad bench of black walnut, on which
+sprawled or sat four unhelmed and ungirt Legionaries, of whom two
+slept on the shady side--for broad sunshine poured through the
+overhead opening--two were playing dice, with a flagon of Mareotic
+wine standing between them, from which one or the other drank a
+draught at every lucky throw--while two more stood on guard, rigid
+and immovable as statues of men in glittering cuirasses, on either
+side of the curtained portal leading to the _atrium_, a hall of some
+forty feet in length, paved with _tesseræ_ of black and yellow
+marble, and centred with a square pool, in the midst of which a
+little fountain played. Yet two other Roman soldiers, with shield on
+arm and grounded javelins, kept ward outside the curtained entrance
+of the large apartment at the farther end. When the first two
+Legionaries with their drawn swords, made as though to prevent his
+passage, Hazaël said with cutting irony:
+
+"The Prætor Philoremus Fabius labours beneath the displeasure of the
+Prefect, Mettius Rufus. Thus he is at present a prisoner beneath his
+own roof. But the Chief Secretary of the Prætor of the Taxes is also
+an official of the Roman Empire. Until I am deprived of this token
+of mine office"--he lifted the end of a heavy golden chain that
+peeped beneath his sheathed beard and lay upon his bosom--"I hold and
+use it. Lower your swords!"
+
+And he thrust beneath the curtain of many-coloured Egyptian linen,
+and moved on to the doorway of the room that lay beyond. The guards
+at this point had overheard; and when Hazaël moved aside the end of
+his beard and pointed to the broad gold chain of office ending in his
+hairy bosom, they struck the butts of their javelins twice upon the
+pavement in salutation, and without a spoken word suffered him to
+pass.
+
+And so the Jew stepped in, moving noiselessly as some creature of
+prey in his high black felt knee-boots soled with elephant's leather,
+and heeled with sections of the nails of the brute, powdered like his
+skin and garments with the vitreous dust of the Desert and stained
+with the sweat of the beasts that had carried him.
+
+You saw him as he dropped his great cowled cloak, just within the
+threshold, to be a man not yet thirty; salient, strong and full of
+energy, with brawny limbs revealed by the short-sleeved tawny robe
+hitched mid-leg high by the girdle of hippopotamus-calf hide, that
+sustained, as well as a wallet and water-gourd, a pair of long sharp
+daggers and a formidable double-edged sword. From beneath the high,
+square, fur-trimmed cap that the cowl of the mantle had hidden, a
+bushy growth of night-black curls, soiled with travel and like the
+fringes of his tawny robe, tangled with thorns and prickly burrs,
+fell about his shoulders. He breathed quickly, as though he had been
+running; and in the stern, bold, swarthy face, and the intent wide
+gaze of the burning black eyes shadowed under beetling eyebrows,
+there was sorrow beyond mere words, and devotion too deep, and pure,
+and selfless to be passionate, as Hazaël after many months stood in
+the presence of his patron and friend.
+
+
+The room, or rather hall, had been originally meant for a triclinium,
+but by reason of its imposing size and height, and the suitable
+elevation of the mosaic floor at its upper end, the Prætor of the
+Taxes had set apart the lengthy side-wing and the upper apartments
+for his private occupation, and transacted here such daily business
+as did not necessitate his appearance at the Forum. A frieze of
+lofty height depicted in brilliant hues on a white ground, the
+combats of the Greeks and Amazons; upon the raised platform at the
+upper end stood an ivory arm-chair, and a table of ebony inlaid with
+silver. Small statues of the twelve divinities of Rome, wrought in
+bronze, ivory or precious metal, adorned the top ledges of two ebony
+bookcases, set against the walls on the right and left hand, and
+filled with scrolls that were volumes of reference, and treatises
+upon Roman Law and Finance.
+
+In the ivory chair sat a man of forty, in a white tunic bordered with
+a wide stripe of purple, plunged deep in the perusal of a small
+scroll of papyrus thickly inscribed in the clear rounded characters
+of Aramaic Greek. An oblong opening in the wall behind him, running
+from wall to wall of the court-room, gave a view, across an open
+loggia (where more Roman guards were posted), of the lawns, alleys
+and fountains of a well-kept garden-enclosure; so that the advantage
+of light from behind was for the Receiver General of Taxes hearing
+cases at his table, with the equally desirable boon of fresh air.
+
+No clients thronged to the tribune to-day, vacant were the desks and
+chairs of his recorders and notaries; the scratch of the ink-filled
+reed upon the papyrus, the smell of wax tablets virgin of the stylus,
+the whispering of the clerks and accountants no longer came from the
+adjoining room....
+
+How pleasantly quiet it was. The reader slightly shifted his feet,
+shod with _cothurni_ of scarlet leather, ornamented with golden
+crescents at the instep, upon the dappled leopard-skins that spread
+beneath his chair. The skins covered a skilfully-concealed trap-door
+leading down into a strong vault underneath the tribune, where were
+stored vast sums in gold belonging to the State.
+
+To the man reading and thinking in the ivory chair, and as yet
+unconscious of the witness on the threshold, the room held no other
+living creatures save himself and a late butterfly, with peacock
+wings of gorgeous beauty, that had fluttered in at the window,
+perhaps attracted by the garlands of wonderfully painted roses
+forming part of the decorations below the cornice of the wall. A
+moment the insect wavered to and fro beneath the cornice;
+mounted--sought to settle--realised the deceit, and would have flown
+back into the garden, to feast upon the nectar of Truth and
+Reality--had not a hawking swallow intervened.
+
+There had been no swallows yesterday. To-day, the blue sky above the
+palms and figs and oleanders, the vine-wreathed sycamores and acacias
+of the gardens, was alive with the black and white specks of
+vitality, darting and wheeling, hovering and poising as though
+sporting with their own swift shadows; hunting their prey of flies,
+gnats and winged beetles with shrill squeaks of bird-delight--while
+under the tiled coping of a walled court with a westward aspect,
+nests were being built in the selfsame spots, from whence they had
+been dislodged by the gardener's pole earlier in the year.
+
+The swallow's swoop and dart, more rapid than the eye might follow,
+captured the insect of the jewelled wings. But the man moved; and
+the startled bird darted upwards towards a brilliant square of blue
+sky framed in a gilded trellis covered with those deceptive roses,
+and no less false and treacherous a painted lure than they...
+
+The infinitesimal tragedy was over in a moment. The arrow-like
+flight cleaved no waves of blue æther, but was arrested by a surface
+as hard as adamant. The bird dropped close to the foot of
+Philoremus. He reached down and took it up.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+It was quite dead, a tiny corpse, a mere pinch of black and white
+feathers; with its prey--still feebly moving legs and _antennae_--yet
+held crosswise in the thorn-small, jet-black beak. What lesson would
+He Whose Divine teaching the Aramaic scroll of the Gospel of Matthew,
+the Evangelist, set forth,--have drawn from the desire of the insect
+for the flowers of delusion, the delirious rush of its swift-winged
+captor for illimitable space and aerial freedom--arrested by that
+killing crash against a tinted stone?
+
+Poor tiny feathered migrant from--what wild northern homeland? That
+of the Alamanni, who built and garrisoned forts of mud and tree-boles
+on their Rhine frontiers; fierce red-haired giants, savage
+mercenaries of Rome, like the Gauls with their pointed brazen helmets
+and painted tunics, covered with cuirasses of leather strengthened
+with plates of iron, adorned with armlets, collars and bracelets of
+heavy virgin gold, and perched rather than seated on their high
+wooden saddles, girthed back on the hindquarters of great horses with
+cropped ears.... Or perhaps the bird came from the freezing steppes
+of Scythia, peopled by shaggy savages with flat noses, slant eyes,
+and hairy legs bowed from continually riding their shaggy little
+beasts. Or from Britain, a province of which country Philoremus had
+ruled as a pro-consul under Carausius, who, with piratical intentions
+of his own, had been sent by Maximianus, co-Emperor with Diocletian,
+to suppress the Saxon pirates and the yellow-haired rovers from
+Scandinavia.
+
+The swallow, though fully fledged, was young. This must have been
+its first day in Egypt. How strange, to have crossed continents and
+seas for such an end! thought the Roman Prætor, and then his glance
+reverting to the scroll, found there a saying of the Master:
+
+"_Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing, and not one of them shall
+fall to the ground without your Father?_"
+
+
+What bearing had the words with reference to the dead swallow
+stiffening on his warm, living palm? What Divine purpose could be
+served by such a waste of effort? What wrong had the innocent
+creature done in hunting its insect food? He read on:
+
+ "_But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.
+ Fear not therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.
+ Whosoever, therefore, shall confess Me before men,
+ I will also confess him before my Father Who is in Heaven._"
+
+
+Perhaps the dead swallow had crossed the sea to bring this message to
+the disgraced public servant. With the thought a reviving warmth
+crept about his chilly heart. He looked downwards, slightly smiling,
+from his tribune to a bronze tripod altar placed upon a square of
+mosaic in the body of the hall. On either side of the altar a Roman
+sword and spear were planted upright. Upon the tripod stood a
+silver-gilt chafing-dish containing several sticks of smouldering
+charcoal. The dish rested upon a pan of pierced pottery, and near it
+were three small vessels respectively containing corn, wine and
+incense; also a bowl of lustral water in which was immersed a leafy
+olive-twig. A Latin inscription beneath the upper ledge of the
+tripod might thus be translated:
+
+ "O HOLY SABUS DIUS FIDIUS SEMIPATER, BE PROPITIOUS!"
+
+
+It was the altar on which oaths were taken; solemnly reconsecrated to
+the Sabine deity on each recurring fifth of June. Perhaps if the
+thoughts behind the broad brow and the blue eyes of the ex-Prætor had
+been rendered into speech, they would have run thus:
+
+"Yesterday at this hour I was wealthy, powerful and dreaded: To-day I
+am an outlaw without rights or possessions, waiting the summons to
+appear before the judges, who are as likely to condemn me to death by
+torture, as to send me to the mines or accord me banishment. And why
+has this happened? Answer, Ego of Philoremus! Because something
+within me revolts from even the semblance of worship offered to the
+deities of Rome. Revengeful, lustful, treacherous as Man; subject
+like him to base passions and earthly frailties; stained with
+unnatural crimes and vices, I know them to be demons; I will no more
+of them!"
+
+"The Pythagorean teachings, the sugared theories of the Platonists,
+the philosophy of the Stoics, I have in turn swallowed and rejected
+in the reversed condition, as the owl deals with infant moles and
+mice! Vainly I have sought refuge in the Eleusinian Mysteries. If
+there were but one snake in the sacred basket of the priestess, what
+a nest of writhing cobras did I not find behind the Veil! Isis
+lured, and I sought her; after long weeks of trials and austerities I
+was conducted to the sanctuary. Initiate, O Mother and Queen of
+Harlots!--only to be again disillusioned! The religious cults of
+Syria and Asia Minor, the philosophical speculations of the
+Gymnosophists of Hind beckoned, and I followed, only to be again
+betrayed! Yet could I not have concealed my doubts and disgusts,
+made my convictions march with my interests? This Voice, speaking
+within my bosom, says emphatically No! Some change has taken place
+in me, some growth has germinated unnoticed, even as the fields of
+the Delta rush into life and verdure, when the garment of water is
+withdrawn from the land by the subsidence of the Nile. This is my
+right hand with the callosity upon the third joint of the third
+finger--that reminds me of the signet that is missing from it--the
+thick gold ring--set with a black onyx carved in intaglio with the
+head of the club-bearing Hercules,--that was a wedding gift from my
+wife. But the Me within me is changed--since yesterday--as though I
+had been touched by the living Hand that over three hundred years ago
+gave sight to the blind, cleansed the leper, and raised up the dead."
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+A deep voice broke upon the muttered soliloquy. It said in shaken
+accents:
+
+"O my master!--" and broke off. For the light of joy that shone in
+the clear blue eyes that turned to him was almost too much for
+Hazaël's sick heart to bear. He crossed the hall in three long
+strides, bent his knee at the foot of the tribune, mounted its steps,
+and kissed with his bearded lips the hand that had worn the black
+onyx intaglio, even as its owner exclaimed:
+
+"Hazaël! The man I most wanted. Welcome back, good friend, to this
+house that was my home!"
+
+"Now may the Holy One be blessed and praised Who has led me back to
+Alexandria in time," responded Hazaël, "to serve my most gracious
+lord! Well has the Prophet said there is no man so virtuous that he
+shall escape calumny. Even Philoremus, I knew had enemies. But that
+does not explain--" he gulped,--"the suspension from office, the
+soldiers placed on guard over their own commander--or read the
+accursed riddle of those seals upon the door!"
+
+"The answer is very simple, my excellent Hazaël," returned Philoremus
+with a quizzical smile. He rolled up and thrust the sacred scroll in
+the breast of his purple-bordered tunic, and motioned the Jew to seat
+himself on a stool beside his chair. "If suspension from office be
+public dishonour, at least it means a private leisure seldom enjoyed.
+Sit and let us talk, nobody will disturb us! I go before the Prefect
+of Alexandria to answer to mine accuser--but not before to-morrow at
+the sixth hour."
+
+"Sir--in the name of the Holiest I conjure you to enlighten me! What
+is this accusation?" burst forth Hazaël. "Who is the accuser whose
+testimony hath such credit as to blacken so great a personage as
+yourself in the eyes of men?"
+
+And as the hoarsely-spoken words escaped the Jew's mouth, that was
+parched with anguish even more than by the acrid dust of the deserts
+which he had traversed, Philoremus answered:
+
+"It is said that I am a Christian and I may not deny it. For the man
+who hath accused me is none other than Myself!"
+
+"Woe, woe!" cried the anguish-stricken Hebrew, tearing his beard and
+striving to rend the tough material of his garment, while great tears
+brimmed his under-eyelids and made furrows in his dusty face. He
+checked the violence of his grief, on seeing a slight shade of
+disgust pass over the delicate patrician features of the Roman, and
+smeared his tears roughly away with the back of a hairy hand.
+"Pardon!" he gasped. "Forgive me! ... Pray, tell me more!"
+
+"First drink some of this wine!" said his master, filling a crystal
+goblet from a golden-lidded crystal flagon that stood upon the table
+conveniently at hand. "A Prætor suspended is as good as hanged--in
+the estimation of his slaves and freed-men," went on Philoremus
+whimsically, as the Jew gulped down the draught of which he stood in
+sore need: "and I make no doubt that my rascals have been robbing
+me--from the noon-hour of yesterday--when I received the mandate of
+Lollius Maxius, until this moment of thy return. Therefore art thou
+thrice welcome. For since the seals were placed, and my own guards
+set over me, I have brooded over the trapdoor of this vault that
+contains the half-year's tax-money of Egypt--like a hen sitting upon
+an addled egg."
+
+"Yes, all through the night," he added, whimsically smiling at the
+indignant astonishment of Hazaël, "until this moment. Nor would the
+fellows bring me a meal--doubtless they have been too busy plundering
+me to feed me. A lump of cheese, a barley-cake and this flagon of
+Mareotic, I obtained through one of my Legionaries, who coaxed it out
+of the cook!" He added, as the breast of Hazaël heaved, and a hoarse
+sound like a sob escaped him: "Now you are come to take charge of the
+Egyptian tax-money, O excellent Hazaël! a weight is off my mind. By
+Hercules and the Twelve, I find it a relief! Come, be not so cast
+down!"
+
+The Jew choked out with difficulty:
+
+"To find you accused--proscribed--perhaps ruined--suffocates me with
+indignation!"
+
+"The Gymnosophists," said the ex-Prætor, "who dwelt upon a mountain
+in Ethiopia nearly two thousand years ago, and are said to dwell
+there still, would have asked you why you are disturbed at this
+intelligence? 'Your patron,' they would say, 'who enjoyed the
+semblance of Happiness for many years, is now to undergo the
+appearance of Misfortune.' Happiness and Misfortune being equally
+Illusions, why on earth are you mopping your eyes?"
+
+He drew a perfumed handkerchief of fine Egyptian byssus from a
+gold-embroidered wallet of gazelle-leather that hung at his girdle,
+and said with a smile as he tossed it to Hazaël: "Waste no more time
+in tears for one who sees no cause. We may thank the banquet the
+Prefect gives to-night for this opportunity for conversation. May he
+bring as fierce an appetite to his tunny pickled with oysters, his
+stuffed and roasted sucking-pig and larded quails and ortolans as I
+brought to bear on my barley-cake and goat's cheese. Come, my good
+fellow, own the truth! Did you never yet suspect me of coquetting
+with Christianity? Think! ... Not even when I have gone secretly
+forth in a sackcloth gown and cowled mask,--plague or fever having
+broken out in the purlieus of the city--or in a time of scarcity,
+when famine pinched the poor?"
+
+The Jew shook his shaggy head.
+
+"Whatever I saw was seen and forgotten, not being intended for these
+eyes. What presumption had it not been, had I ventured to question
+the movements of my patron; who might, the noble lady his wife being
+long dead, have entered without grievous sin into some union of the
+temporary kind. Besides, you forget, O most excellent! that day now
+fifteen years past, when a certain Roman officer of high rank,
+disguised as a Frankish traveller, sought adventure in the Jewish
+quarter of Alexandria."
+
+"I have not forgotten!" Philoremus chuckled. "We had received
+intimation the previous year that the Jews of Alexandria were
+prospering exceedingly. Marriages at the synagogues constantly took
+place. Births--yours is a prolific race!--inevitably followed each
+union. Immigrations from Ethiopia and the towns of the Upper Nile
+continually swelled the population.... Trade flourished. Money-bags
+grew fat,--and the coins, being put to usury, bred like maggots. Yet
+no Jew was other than poor--when it came to paying the tax."
+
+"Most excellent, I have observed it!" acquiesced Hazaël gravely,
+wondering that his patron could so forget the present peril in these
+memories of the past:
+
+"Therefore, O Hazaël! I came disguised into Jewry with the laudable
+desire to find out for myself the condition of the miserable and
+oppressed race. It was a Feast Day, and the narrow and winding
+streets were foul, and stank exceedingly. But wreaths of anemones
+and violets ornamented the windows, while fat and soot from myriads
+of twinkling lamps, shed dubious blessings on the heads of the
+passers-by. Within each house were displayed rich curtains and
+costly carpets from the looms of Persia and Babylon. The goodwives
+spread their tables with finest Egyptian linen cloths, and dishes and
+cups of silver--indeed--I will not take oath that some were not of
+gold! Rich jewels twinkled in their ears, and decked their wigs and
+bosoms, and maidens of Israel were among them, gazelle-eyed,
+ivory-skinned, beautiful as the virgin daughter of Demeter.... Frown
+not, Hazaël, for even when my blood was young I knew how to respect
+the virtue of the women of Israel! Later, when I turned about to
+retrace my steps, I saw an exceedingly unwashed urchin peering in
+with longing eyes at a window I had quitted a moment previously. No
+Jewish maid was the object of the young Hazaël's admiration. On the
+meagrely-spread table were a dish of lentils dressed in oil and a
+common crockery wine-jug; some bread cakes, and a large flank of
+tunny in a red pottery dish, swimming in vinegar."
+
+A spark of amusement kindled in the gloomy eyes of Hazaël. The Roman
+went on:
+
+"Perhaps that Jewish urchin might have reached twelve years. He was
+small for his age, filthy exceedingly, and meagre. And he hugged his
+lean stomach, droning a kind of song with the burden: '_I wish!--I
+wish!_' ... 'And what dost thou wish?' I asked, coming up unseen
+behind him...."
+
+The stern lips under Hazaël's matted beard were parted now in
+laughter. He said with a flash of strong white teeth showing in his
+dark face:
+
+"And I answered: 'I wish it were Sabbath all the week long!--or that
+I had a stomach like a camel's!' And you asked 'Why?' and I
+answered, 'Because on Feasts and Sabbaths I may eat my fill at the
+tables of the Chosen, while on other days I fight with dogs upon the
+quays for the scraps thrown us by sailors and foreigners. Thus I am
+empty six days in a week of days, and full to bursting on the
+Seventh!' Then you, my lord, said to me,--I can hear your voice this
+moment, 'Come with me, Hazaël, small descendant of Abraham, and thou
+shalt eat thy fill of lawful food, every day!' And so your greatness
+took me thence, and placed me in the household of a Jew who served as
+scribe to you,--and stooped to ask my common, sordid story. And I
+told thee how, having reached my twelfth year--my good father being a
+Rab, an interpreter of the sacred books and a pleader before the
+Courts of my people in the town of Acanthon upon the Lower Nile,--was
+brought home dead, having been struck upon the forehead by a beam of
+cedar borne upon the back of a camel led by a Copt.... And that my
+mother, being a poor widow, had married a cousin of my father.
+And--that I had found truth in the saying that the breath of a
+stepfather chills the broth. _My_ broth was not only cold, but
+salted overmuch with the tears of many beatings. Wherefore I ran
+away from the village where we dwelt; and begged my way to
+Alexandria. That was in the third month _Sivan_, and it was well
+into the seventh month, even _Tishri_, before I found," he gulped, "a
+friend!"
+
+"And I," said the ex-Prætor, "the most faithful and discreet of
+servants, if a little too peppery of temper at times for the comfort
+of my freedmen and slaves. You developed with years a genius for the
+calling of the scribe, akin to that of Cæsar for the command of
+armies. The most disorderly rabble of ciphers that ever disgraced
+the pages of a ledger were transformed beneath the hand of Hazaël
+into legions worthy of Rome! The advancement for which you thank me
+came as the reward of your own labours. My disgrace cannot blight
+you,--my fall cannot bring you toppling. All Alexandria knows my
+Chief Secretary to be an orthodox Jew and devout Christian-hater! In
+how many of the old street-riots between the Chosen and the monks of
+Alexandria,--hast thou not played the warrior to the tune of cracked
+crowns and broken shin-bones, with that great staff of thine?"
+
+"It is true!" A rush of scarlet invaded the Jew's bearded face,
+dyeing his forehead and injecting the whites of his eyes. He dropped
+his head upon his breast and stammered:
+
+"It is verily true! Ever since my father--on whom be Peace!--taught
+me to stammer Shema I have abominated the Christians. Since his
+death, and mine oath, I have rejoiced with the rest of the Chosen at
+the revival of persecution, little dreaming that--"
+
+He broke off, convulsed by a shudder that shook him from head to
+foot. Then he nerved himself, with an effort that brought
+sweat-drops starting upon his cheeks, and temples and forehead, for a
+final appeal. "O my loved patron!" he entreated, "hear me! Break
+the abominable spell that has--I know not how--constrained you to
+embrace a religion only fitted for unlearned fishermen, common
+criminals, slaves or unfortunate persons, publicans and sinners--"
+
+"A Prætor of Taxes is a publican, I imagine!..." the Roman official
+suggested.
+
+"Even," returned Hazaël, "as Leviathan among the lizards, and the
+Lantern of the Pharos beside a farthing candle or a glow-worm's
+light. Shall one so illustrious as yourself bow down to the deity
+that came out of--Galilee? The son of Joseph the carpenter, speaking
+Aramæan,--who called himself, in the madness of delusion or the
+blasphemy of possession--the Son of the Most Holy One, the Lord Who
+is God! Who preached the sordid creed of poverty, humility and love;
+love not only to kindred and friends, but to enemies, betrayers,
+traducers, murderers! Who was abandoned in disgust by those who had
+followed him, and died a shameful death upon the cross!"
+
+Said the Roman, looking out across the loggia at the blue sky and the
+darting swallows:
+
+"When the white-robed flamens of Jupiter Capitolinus, standing upon
+the steps of the portico of the temple, bid the Romans come and
+celebrate the mysteries of their god, they cry, 'All ye that are pure
+of heart and clean of hands, come to the sacrifice!' Yet Jupiter is
+neither a pure nor a particularly clean god. And when the
+white-robed priestesses of Ceres bear the round basket through the
+streets of Alexandria, do they not scream like so many peahens?
+'Sinners, away, or keep eyes on the ground! Only the Worthy may dare
+to approach us!' Yet those who participate in the Eleusinian
+mysteries do not return worthier than they went!"
+
+He poured out a little wine, drank, and said as he set down the
+emptied goblet:
+
+"When that young wolf in the Christian fold, the evil presbyter
+Arius, gave me the password and the sign, that disguised in the
+sackcloth robe and masked cowl of the Parabolani, I might mingle with
+them in the meetings of their sodalities and penetrate even to the
+house of the Christian Patriarch--the wretch little knew what a
+burning curiosity was veiled by my expressed desire for his rascally
+aid. For the Master to Whom the glory of the world was a transitory
+spectacle--the Teacher Who revealed Himself to the poor and the
+humble, and opened His Heart as a Gate of Hope to the sinful and
+despised--discovers in His teaching such absolute unworldliness as to
+make it starry clear that He came from beyond the stars...."
+
+The ex-Prætor was silent, but his heart added:
+
+"O Divine Man, if only I had known Thee! O Son of God! Who could
+take upon Thee the burden of our earthliness!--but to have heard Thy
+Voice! but to have seen Thy Face! Perhaps an hour may come--not too
+far distant--"
+
+And so wonderful a radiance shone upon the brow and in the eyes of
+the speaker, despite the ravages of sleeplessness and anxiety, that
+Hazaël was stricken dumb.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+Suddenly the Jew winced as though stung, exclaiming:
+
+"How could I have forgotten? Your son, Florens?"
+
+"Florens is well," said the Roman, "and in safety. Not here," he
+answered to Hazaël's look, "but at your own house, in the care of
+your excellent wife. To whom else should I entrust my most valued
+possession? Florens is not yet a Christian, but I would have him
+one. This, should I die, is my last command to you. Let me hear you
+say that I shall be obeyed!"
+
+Hazaël wrung his hands and cried in anguish:
+
+"O, my master! as God lives I swear that I will obey you faithfully!
+Were the boy to be dedicated to the Evil One, it should be done
+though I were damned for it!"
+
+"Thanks, my friend!" said the father, with moisture showing in his
+bright blue eyes. Silently a hand-grip was exchanged between the
+ex-Prætor and his Chief Secretary. Then the former resumed:
+
+"Further attend. I shall pass from the tribunal of the Prefect to
+the Hall of the Judges. Should the decision of the Court be that I
+suffer the extreme penalty, take Florens secretly to the Monastery of
+Tabenna, in the Upper Thebaïd. Some time will pass before the
+Prefect of the Stationaries of Apollinopolis sends another force to
+attack that wasp's nest! You have heard how sturdy a defence they
+maintained during the recent siege! The tribune in command of three
+maniples was compelled to withdraw his soldiers. Though at the
+Monastery of Mount Nitria, and that of Scete, and at Scyras, as at
+Aphroditopolis, raids were effected without opposition. Melittus,
+Abbot of Scete, was brought to the tribunal three days ago. He was
+condemned to be beaten to death with rods. Three of the five monks
+who were in bonds with Melittus went to the torture. Two novices
+they sent to the mines, in consideration of their youth. I myself
+was in the Hall of the Question, sitting on the high seat with the
+judges commissioned by the Prefect of Egypt. And as Melittus and his
+monks were brought forward to be sentenced, each one looked up to the
+right of the Catasta* with a brightened face, and smiled. For He was
+there!"
+
+
+* A platform corresponding to our prisoners' dock.
+
+
+Hazaël started, so full of awe was the ending of the sentence.
+
+"Do you--you do not mean that you beheld in a vision Jesus of
+Nazareth, the Crucified?"
+
+"Not He!" The ex-Prætor bent his head reverently. "Not the Lord,
+but one who in visions has often seen Him. The Egyptian, called the
+Athlete of Christ, the Saint who founded the Monastery of Tabenna
+which stands between Diopolis and Tentyra on the eastern bank of the
+Nile. For this house, now under the rule of the venerable Abbot
+Pachomius, was built upon the ruins of a tomb or temple of the bygone
+people, where the Saint, to enjoy contemplation of things Divine,
+lived in solitude as a hermit for twenty years. Now his eyrie is
+upon a high mountain looking towards the fastnesses of Sinai and the
+Red Sea. Once, he came down--during the persecution of Diocletian,
+and travelled to Alexandria with the chain-gangs of Christians, being
+brought to the city to confess their Faith and die. No man laid a
+hand on him, though he went in and out of the prisons freely,
+bringing clothes and food and medicine; tending the sick and
+comforting the wretched, preaching and exhorting openly, showing
+himself in the Courts under the eyes of the judges, as though he
+would have said, 'If ye seek me, come and take me; here I am, here I
+am!'"
+
+"I have heard of this hermit," Hazaël assented. "He was protected by
+some great person. That is what was said at the time."
+
+"Then the people of Alexandria spoke truth for once. He was
+protected by the greatest of all Persons."
+
+Hazaël's face was as a stone mask. He said:
+
+"And so Christ's Athlete shows himself again.... Will he escape this
+time, I wonder?"
+
+Said the Roman, not observing or perhaps ignoring a peculiarity in
+the Jew's look and tone:
+
+"He followed the captive monks from Nitria, not only to bear witness
+to Christ in the prisons and churches, but to confute and crush the
+heresy of Arius. Each day in the Hall of the Judges he stood up upon
+the left of the Catasta, wrapped in a white linen cloth reaching from
+his ankles to his middle, and mantled with the snowy fleece of his
+long hair and beard. He leaned upon a staff topped with the Cross,
+and as the doomed were led away he blessed them, crying in a voice
+that vibrated through the building like the sound of a silver gong:
+'Blessed are ye, called by Divine Grace to testify to the Lord, even
+Christ Jesus! On with a good courage! for to you He holdeth open the
+Gate of Hope!' None laid a finger on him. But the Chief Judge, in
+whose full view the Athlete stood, called a lictor and said to him
+softly: 'Command that man in my name to withdraw himself from the
+Court!' And the Athlete, hearing this, cried in that voice of
+silvery sweetness; 'I go from this place, O unjust judge! not at thy
+command, but because I have discharged the errand of my Lord. My way
+leads through the Libyan Desert to Scete in Nitria, and from the
+White Monastery of Aphroditopolis to Tabenna; and from thence I
+return through the Desert of Arabia to mine abode. Who would
+overtake me let him follow; who would find me let him seek me in the
+ruins of the Pagan temple that stands above the Limestone Torrent,
+under the crown of the mountain that is called Derhor, standing
+between the Arabian Desert and the Gulf of Heroöpolis, looking across
+the Wilderness of El Ka to the Mount of Sinai!"
+
+"And he departed?"
+
+"He went out from the midst of us, no man daring to touch even his
+garment, and I returned somewhat late, to find some tax-gatherers of
+the Onophites waiting to pay gathered gold into the Treasury of the
+State. And to these I must administer the oath, first covering my
+head with the lustrated woollen cap, sprinkling incense on the coals
+and invoking the Sabine deity.... And, as has been my wont of late,
+I refrained from doing these things.... Then a man in mean clothes
+rose up and pointed to me, and cried out: 'Question! Question! Is
+an oath made before a Roman Prætor valid and binding, when the usage
+and wont of the sacred ceremonial are scamped after a fashion like
+this? Dip the olive-twig! Purify the wool with the consecrated
+element! ... Throw the incense on the coals, therewith invoking Dius
+Fidius! Or else confess that thou, Philoremus Fabius, art a
+worshipper of Christ!' Then--I do not quite know what came over me.
+I threw the cap upon the floor, and said to all present: 'You have
+heard the Accuser! Now hear me! I am a Christian man!'"
+
+The Jew groaned:
+
+"Madness. Possession! A casting away of reputation, honour, and it
+may be, very existence! ... And for what? ... You have never
+renounced the gods of Rome! ... You have never been baptised by a
+Christian priest, or broken," he spat, "consecrated bread, or drunk
+wine at one of their accursed love-feasts! You have only mingled
+among them unseen, in the robe and cowl of the Parabolani. Idly
+listened to a sermon or two--helped to carry one plague-bit to the
+hospital.... Listen! ... All may yet be well! ... Only consent to
+write plainly, stating these facts to His Excellency Lollius Maxius,
+and to the Prefect Mettius Rufus, and entrust both letters to me....
+Upon my head and my son's head be it if you find me fail you!
+Hasten, O Master! Every moment of delay lessens the chance of
+averting ruin. For the sake of the boy Florens do this--if you will
+not for your own!"
+
+"My good Hazaël," the Roman said, as the Secretary thrust tablets and
+stylus upon him, and drew forward his vacated chair, urging him to
+sit down. "To my shame be it said, I have already appealed to the
+friendship of the Prefect, though not in such pusillanimous terms as
+these you suggest. Until this moment I have waited for an answer in
+vain. As for the boy, these white hairs that have appeared upon my
+temples since yesterday, testify to the anxiety I suffer upon his
+account. Being a child of tender years, you might claim of the State
+in his name some portion of my confiscated property. But in this
+case he will be placed under a Roman guardian, and reared in the
+worship of the gods of Rome. Better be still! Now tell me while
+there is time, what of your errand to Ælia Capitolina? Did you
+discover Annius Jovius Priscus, the Senator, guardian of my late
+wife's property? And does her inheritance, the ancient Israelitish
+fortress, once given by King Solomon to Balkis, Queen of Sheba, yet
+stand among the vineyards near Joppa, or has Kirjath-Saba resolved
+itself into a mountain of disjointed stone?"
+
+The Jew drew a folded skin of parchment from his bosom and gave it to
+the Roman as he answered:
+
+"I found the man you bade me seek, in the city that was once
+Jerusalem! As for the tower of Kirjath-Saba, it stands as though
+fresh wars might yet rage and beat upon its ruggedness, and new
+nations arise and flourish and pass, yet leave it there unharmed.
+Here, sent to thee by the Senator Priscus, are the writings made when
+the Tower with the land about it, was conferred upon the Tribune
+Justus Martius of the Tenth Roman Legion, by decree of the Emperor
+Vespasian, on the tenth day of the month of August, in the second
+year of his reign."
+
+Philoremus murmured, scanning the faded ink characters upon the
+sheepskin:
+
+"Justus Martius, ancestor of my wife, led a party of Roman
+Legionaries with scaling-ladders in the siege of Titus against
+Antonia. He found a breach in the fortress-wall, got through and
+killed--"
+
+Hazaël nodded grimly:
+
+"Ay, killed the Jewish sentries, and slew the rest of the defenders.
+That was the beginning of the Massacre and the Destruction--to which
+that of Nebuchadnezzar the Assyrian, was as a passing shower to the
+fury of a storm. With this deed I have to deliver back to you the
+signet ring with the head of Hercules, cut in intaglio upon a black
+agate, that I carried with me into Palestine; and also my pack-mule's
+burden of two thousand sestertia, in good _aurei_ of Hadrian, at 30
+to the pound of gold; and with the money a message from Priscus."
+
+"Keep the black onyx intaglio in memory of me. The fellow ring--the
+same head cut in relief--is in the coffer with my dear wife's jewels.
+Worn by her from her marriage until her death, it will be a precious
+legacy for Florens. Give it him when he shall have reached the age
+of nineteen. Take the parchment also and keep it in trust for my
+son, and the mule-load of money, for I have no need of these." As
+the sheep-skin vanished under the Jew's upper garment, "Give me now,"
+said the Roman, "the message of Annius Priscus."
+
+"It was: 'Tell the husband of my departed ward to find another
+steward to husband her vineyards of Kir Saba and receive the
+grape-money from the wine-presser, for I weary of the dust and glare
+of Palestine, and desire to end my days in my native city of Rome.'"
+The Jew added: "I found Priscus setting forth with his household and
+slaves to take ship for Rome at Joppa. Had I arrived at a later
+hour, my journey had been in vain. Wherefore, thanking the Most
+High, Who had aided me in the execution of my lord's business, I
+accepted the invitation of the Senator to accompany him as far as
+Lydda, now known as Diospolis; from whence I went to Kirjath-Saba,
+two days' journey by road. There gushes forth to water the green
+plains of Sharon a river of fattening for the vineyards that stand
+about the Tower. Six hundred _schaeni_ of land, I judged, measuring
+roughly by the eye. The two thousand sestertia I received represent
+but a tithe of the value of the yearly gathering, judging by the
+fruit that yet hung upon the vines."
+
+"Old men are easily duped by smooth-tongued stewards."
+
+"The rogue at Kir Saba is a Phœnician, and slippery as an adder.
+Yet will he not lose the stiffness of his back-muscles and haunches
+until he shall have sacrificed a goose or two to his goddess Tanit,
+and caused a slave to rub him with the grease."
+
+A spark of amusement twinkled in the tired eyes of the Roman.
+
+"You beat him?"
+
+"My staff has an affinity with the backs of robbers that may not be
+denied. This one, by virtue of the authority bestowed on me, I
+summarily deprived of his office; replacing the thief with one
+Simeon, a Jew of Joppa, a faithful man and, moreover, a kinsman of
+mine own."
+
+"That is well if you judge it well. And now let us speak no more of
+money. My son and his future are safe in your true hands."
+
+"Your son's father were also safe, were he to follow the counsels of
+his servant," said the Jew with a passionate eagerness. "But consent
+to exchange clothes,--giving me your purple-edged prætexta--taking
+this travel-soiled robe of mine, this girdle, sword and dagger--this
+parchment deed and this purse of money--and topping all with my
+mantle of camel's hair! ... Let me sit here, covering my head and
+arms as one that weeps, with the folds of this, your mantle!" He
+caught up a fur-trimmed hooded outer garment of crimson that lay upon
+a neighbouring chair. "Pass the guards!--in your disguise the thing
+may be done, I swear it! Hasten to my house. Give to my wife a
+written line from me--here are inkhorn, reed and paper--and she will
+deal with you faithfully even as myself. Consent! Accept!"
+
+"The sacrifice of your life for mine! A thousand times No!" said the
+ex-Prætor, sternly.
+
+Hazaël urged in a low, fierce voice, illustrating his speech with
+rapid gestures towards the window; pointing to the helmed head,
+muscular brown neck and powerful shoulders of the Legionary posted in
+the loggia beyond.
+
+"My life will be in no peril. I swear to you I will but make sure
+that you have passed out safely, before I leap upon the guard there,
+stab one--strangle the other--and escape. Once in the Jews' Quarter
+I am safe as you will be. By a hundred avenues known to none but the
+Chosen we can escape from Alexandria. Only consent--"
+
+But the Roman was firm in his refusal.
+
+"Ah, you wish to die, it is clear to me!" exclaimed Hazaël. "The
+thirst for death consumes you even as those other Christians, who
+think the heavens will open amidst their tortures and the Crucified
+appear, surrounded by the Shekinah; and extending His nail-pierced
+hands to them; whilst hovering angels offer them the martyr's crown!"
+
+"You forget, I am not even baptised," said the Roman. "I have not
+received the instruction of a catechumen. I have abjured the gods of
+Rome without knowing whether Christ will accept me.... And yet--and
+yet--"
+
+His calmness made the Jew shudder. He looked from the window with a
+glance that sought above the palm-trees and acacias, the blue sky,
+crossed and recrossed by the airy dance of the swallows, and said
+with a smile:
+
+"And yet I have never experienced such wondrous peace of mind. An
+ichor runs in my veins that is clear as crystal, cool as snow and yet
+glowing as the fire of sunset.... Never have I tasted in my life a
+joy so deep as this!"
+
+"He is mad!" groaned Hazaël in his anguished heart. But the
+ex-Prætor was again speaking:
+
+"Listen, most dear and faithful friend! ... Should that thing happen
+which means that I am not quite rejected, being permitted to die for
+the faith of Christ,--take my boy, secretly as I have said, to the
+Abbot of Tabenna, and explain that I wish Florens to be baptised and
+reared in the Christian faith." He went on as the Jew's face again
+darkened, and his eyes once more dilated with horror, "Should Florens
+shrink from the life of a monk, let him be a soldier, like the father
+who sends him his blessing. Deposit my wife's jewels with the Abbot
+of Tabenna,--to be sold for the boy's benefit--all save the
+fellow-ring to the signet I have given you--which is to be Florens'
+when he is of age. Tell him that the Hercules must stand for
+manliness and valour; the knotted club for Truth and Honesty; and the
+lion's skin for the wisdom that cloaks itself against the malice of
+the world in the experience of trials overpast."
+
+"I will remember!" the Jew said sullenly. "Have I all your
+instructions? ..."
+
+"There is but one thing more!" the Roman returned, speaking low and
+hurriedly. "The boy being left with the Abbot at the Monastery of
+Tabenna, I entreat you to return by way of the Arabian Desert, seek
+out the hermitage of Christ's Athlete upon Mount Derhor and deliver
+to the Blessed One a message from me. Say to the Saint: 'I bring
+greetings from Philoremus Fabius, once Prætor of the Taxes of Egypt
+in Alexandria. Without having formally embraced Christ, or received
+the waters of baptism, this man has testified to the Faith and died!'
+... Further, say: 'He entreats thee to pray that his sins may be
+forgiven. And that for him also the Hand that was pierced may open
+the Gate of Hope!'..." He added, visibly paling as the distant sound
+of a trumpet broke upon his utterance, "All is now said. And it is
+well, for that is the trumpet-call of the Prefect's Bodyguard. My
+examination takes place before the banquet, it may be! Well, well!
+I have no envy of the flower-crowned guest whose place should have
+been mine!"
+
+Again the trumpet shrilled, and the two men sat in silence, as the
+rhythmical tread of wooden-soled, heavy-nailed sandals falling on the
+pavement of the street drew nearer,--grew louder until the solid
+walls vibrated: and then--as a harsh voice, echoed by other voices,
+was heard to issue some military command--stopped dead. The curtain
+at the portal bellied inwards with the draught from the opening of
+the house-door: and as the harsh voice issued another command, the
+regular tramp of the wooden, iron-nailed shoes of the soldiers
+wakened the echoes of the outer vestibule. The Jew caught his
+breath, and the Roman, frowning, laid a hand upon his sinewy arm:
+
+"No demonstration of anger," he said sternly, "I forbid it! And now,
+for this world, my son--for as one I have loved you!--Farewell!"
+
+"And O farewell, my kindest friend!--my generous protector!"
+stammered Hazaël, with tears raining down his bearded cheeks as they
+hurriedly embraced. "May the God of Israel so deal with me and mine
+as I deal with your son! ... They come!"
+
+The trampling iron-shod footsteps halted at the threshold. The metal
+rings shrieked on the rod as a brawny, red-haired arm, partly
+sheathed in glittering brass, thrust the heavy curtains back....
+Sunlight flashed from naked steel, and the gilded plates of armour.
+A Roman officer of the Bodyguard stepped into the room.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+In consideration of great services rendered to the Empire, the
+ex-Prætor of the Egyptian Taxes was beheaded without torture. The
+body, exposed upon the public execution-ground according to the law,
+mysteriously disappeared. It was whispered that it had been spirited
+away by persons with Christian leanings, and secretly buried in the
+crypt of some unknown church.
+
+For three days following the death of his patron, the house of Hazaël
+was strictly closed.... The Jew, with hair and beard sprinkled with
+ashes, mourned, sitting on the floor in a coarse black tunic, rent at
+the hem; and observing silence, ate bread and drank water once a day
+at the sunset hour. He even said Kaddish for his dead benefactor,
+though an act so presumptuous would have scandalised the Rabbinate.
+On the fourth day he rose: washed and reclothed himself, and returned
+to his family as though nothing had transpired. But on a day
+following the celebration of the Feast of Tabernacles, the large
+white mule on which Hazaël made his journeys, with the beast that
+usually carried his attendant Ephraim, stood waiting with the
+pack-mule at the Chief Secretary's door.
+
+A long basket of woven osiers now being brought out by Ephraim and
+another servant, and carefully strapped upon the burden of
+necessaries carried by the pack-mule, the Chief Secretary, armed as
+before, and in the plain travelling garb that he had worn previously,
+bade farewell to his wife and family; thrust his mighty bronze-shod
+staff once more into its leathern bucket; and rode out of the City of
+the Pharos with his small following, by the Gate of the Moon.
+
+A flat-bottomed boat paddled by four negroes, conveyed both men and
+beasts across the vineyard-fringed Lake of Mareotis, and for some
+miles south-eastwards along the Canal of Alexandria, between
+palm-groves, gardens, orchards and the estates of wealthy Greeks,
+Egyptians and Roman officials. Above Andron, the ancient city fast
+falling through Roman misrule into neglect and dilapidation, the
+party landed; Hazaël gave money to the master of the rowers, received
+his salutations, and the four negroes, reversing their positions,
+soon conveyed the boat away.
+
+Then the Jew, no longer hiding the anxiety that had devoured him,
+leaped with fierce energy upon the pack-mule, unstrapped the heavy
+osier basket and with the aid of Ephraim, carefully lowered it to the
+ground. With shaking hands he unfastened the lid of the pannier, and
+as the smiling but bewildered face of a boy of twelve years old
+looked up at him, with blue eyes blinking in the sudden glare of the
+sun:
+
+"Now thanks be to the Holy One that all is well with thee!" he
+stammered. "Not a word, not a movement--your father's true son! See
+now--this pad from under thy head, my hands beneath thy armpits.
+Leap--and fresh as a salmon from the British Thamesis--a sturgeon
+from the Hyperborean Ocean, or a lamprey from Lake Moeris--out you
+come!"
+
+He hugged the boy against his breast with almost womanly tenderness,
+and running his hands rapidly over the slight body, assured himself
+that all was well. Then mounting Florens before the saddle of his
+own mule, and followed by Ephraim with the other animals; the
+Secretary, following a southward-running road that crossed some
+ripening cotton-fields, presently drew the rein, and looked back at
+Ephraim, saying:
+
+"The idolaters are true to their word. See, there are their tents
+and camels!"
+
+And he pointed to where low black tents were pitched upon a stretch
+of scrubby ground lying between the crop-land and the
+reddish-coloured desert, upon which camels eagerly grazed upon
+withered vetch and wiry grasses; while a small band of Saracens
+crouched round a small fire, wrapped in capacious mantles woven of
+white wool and black camel's hair, their loaded staves beside them,
+and sharp broad-bladed spears planted haft downwards in the ground
+near by.
+
+The Saracens rose, seeing men on beasts coming, seized their staves
+and plucked forth their spears. Then, comprehending who it was that
+approached, their demeanour altered, and they received the Jew with
+respect.
+
+"I am Mafa Oabu," said the eldest of the company. "If evil come to
+thee, or those who are thy companions, I pay to him whom thou
+knowest, with my life and the lives of my sons!"
+
+He touched himself with the right hand upon the breast and brow, and
+laid his hands in the hands of Hazaël, as also did the men of his
+following. Three young camels were chosen for the travellers to
+ride. Two others were loaded with the water-skins, provisions,
+fodder, and baggage. Mafa Oabu mounted one of the pack-animals. Two
+strong young men, marching with the caravan, would ride by turns upon
+the other, the old Saracen said, when either of them required rest.
+As for the mules, they remained in the keeping of the Saracens, to be
+reclaimed upon the return of the travellers. The price of the
+journey, not to be paid until then, was to be one hundred silver
+_sestertii_ a day for each of the five camels; fifty _sestertii_ for
+Mafa Oabu, and a gift for each of the young men.
+
+The departure was accompanied by shrill ululating cries made by the
+women of the Saracens, who kept veiled their faces, painted like
+their naked bodies with green and scarlet fishes, serpents and the
+signs of the Zodiac, and smeared their hair with butter. Then the
+caravan struck southwards into the Nitrian Desert. That night they
+encamped under a grove of palm-trees, near a Roman well hollowed in
+the living rock, amidst the bellowings of the camels, which purposely
+had not been watered before the start.
+
+Water-skins brought by the Jews being filled by Ephraim, that the
+pure element might not be contaminated by the touch of idolaters, the
+Saracens filled their own, and drew water for the camels, which was
+given the thirsty beasts in a pitch-smeared skin trough. Mafa Oabu
+took no share in these labours, but prostrating himself upon the sand
+with his forehead towards the setting sun, remained absorbed in
+silent adoration. The Jews washed, gave thanks and ate; sharing with
+the child the bread, eggs, figs and dried fish they had brought with
+them; drinking a little wine diluted with water, and keeping their
+own side of the fire. The Saracens washed down their sparing diet of
+dried bread, dates and sheeps'-milk cheese with a drink of charred
+corn, crushed, and boiled in water mingled with honey, which they
+sipped from the shells of young tortoises, showing their white teeth
+in smiles at the hearty appetite displayed by the child. Yet while
+the novelty of all about him pleased and excited Florens, he would
+pause in the midst of a mouthful to ask Hazaël:
+
+"When we reach where we are going, shall we find my father there?"
+
+"If the Almighty so wills!" was the Jew's invariable answer. The
+young Saracens, whose names were Marduk and Belias, pitched a black
+tent to shelter the travellers, when sleeping, from the rays of the
+new moon. Small, marvellously bright and silvery, it hung high in
+the south, rivalling the blue radiance of Jupiter, the evening
+star.... In the north-west the Pharos of Alexandria blazed on the
+horizon at intervals of an instant. Hazaël looked at the distant
+splendour of the city, and muttered, as he thought of his benefactor
+murdered there:
+
+"But for the Chosen, and my Miriam and my children, who dwell in the
+shadow of thy painted temples like to doves among the rocks, I could
+wish that fire and brimstone might descend from Heaven and consume
+thee utterly, thou thrice accursed Harlot of the Sea!"
+
+For in the bosom of the Jew, who had witnessed massacres of
+Christians without a sentiment of pity or horror, the commission of
+that single crime had caused a strange revulsion. Before he lay
+down, he looked at the boy, who wearied, was soundly sleeping; and a
+heavy tear dropped from his stern eyes upon the woollen covering he
+held back. Then he replaced it over the tossed curls and the flushed
+face of the sleeper, commended himself to the Almighty care, and
+stretched himself upon the ground beside Florens.
+
+Rising to repeat the Shema for the first night-watch, he stepped
+outside the tent to leave to Ephraim, who had also wakened, the
+freedom of solitude which intensifies prayer. The young Saracens
+slept beside the pink embers of the fire, enveloped in their mantles
+of camel's hair. Mafa Oabu did not sleep, but sat apart, alert and
+wakeful; spear at hand and staff in readiness; his sling lying beside
+him, with a supply of rounded stones.
+
+Placing ten small pebbles in front of him, he reckoned that ten days
+must pass before the arrival of the caravan at Memphis. Adding ten
+more for the return-journey, he surrounded each of the twenty pebbles
+with five hundred grains of maize, reckoning up his gains by the
+light of the moon and of the fire--which he often fed with dead wood
+and dried camel's-dung--regularly discovering to his chagrin that he
+had not added the sum due for his own labours, and must begin once
+more. When the stars began to pale towards the dawn, he ceased, and
+prostrated himself, rising to find Hazaël standing near.
+
+"What do you worship?" the Jew asked him.
+
+"We pray," said Mafa Oabu, "to the Great and Lesser Lights, to the
+starry Hosts of Heaven and to the Djinns and Afrits both good and
+evil, that eavesdrop at the celestial gates and thereby learn much of
+the divine plans of Allah, the Eternal, the Creator of All. The
+brilliant lights that sometimes shoot across the sky are in fact
+these beings, driven by the Angels from the celestial threshold,
+whence their master Iblis, the Peacock of the Angels, was banished
+when he rebelled against Allah. We also reverence as the holiest
+thing from Kaf to Kaf, the pure white stone that fell with our father
+Adam from the Garden of Paradise. It is now no longer white, having
+wept so much for the sins of the world, and silver bands prevent it
+from bursting. It is imbedded in the wall of the Kaaba, the Holy
+House containing more than three hundred and fifty images, built and
+carved by Seth, son of Adam, and washed away by the Deluge. Later,
+Ishmael, guided by the Archangel Gabriel, discovered the marvellous
+stone, buried in the mud left by the retreating waters, and made new
+images in place of those lost. We call the period at which these
+events occurred, The Time of Ignorance. You, my lord, being of the
+People of the Book, the Sons of Isaac, look back with ourselves--the
+People of the Desert who are the Children of Ishmael--to Abraham, our
+common ancestor."
+
+"So it is said," observed Hazaël, unwilling to offend the master of
+the caravan, while he turned aside to spit upon the sand, making a
+mental act abjuring kinship with idolaters, condemned by the Almighty
+to burn forever in hell.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+Keeping to the south, they passed that day through some
+long-neglected orchards, lying upon the outskirts of a town almost in
+ruins, sparsely inhabited by a degraded population of mingled Greek,
+Egyptian and Libyan blood. Satyrs and fauns in the fig-groves pelted
+them with ripe fruit in return for a volley of stones thrown by the
+Saracens.
+
+"What are they?" asked Florens of Hazaël, puzzled at the sight of
+these strange semi-human beings, sprung from the iniquities of
+forgotten peoples; covered with hide, and having horses' ears and
+tails, or goatish horns and hairy legs, ending in cloven hoofs. But
+Hazaël muffled the child's eyes and dragged him roughly away.
+
+The groves of the dying city left behind, the ground became rugged,
+bare and stony. That night the camels grazed upon the _safsaf_ weed,
+after the next they might have to rely upon the fodder they carried.
+A milky mirage made the scrub-bushes of the distant plain appear as
+tall as sycamores. Passing through them, they barely reached the
+knees of the Saracens who went on foot. White snails covered them,
+glistening like some strange pale fruit amidst their foliage. These
+the young Saracens gathered and threw into a bag with salt. Thus
+purged, they explained, these snails were excellent eating either
+roasted in the ashes or stewed.
+
+On their left as they travelled, a pearly haze tinged with jade-green
+signified the vegetation of the banks of the Nile. Ranges of low
+hills in the south were vested in violet, and palest primrose. The
+sun smote fiercely, yet when the shadows of men and beasts were
+shortest, the children of the Desert, as though enlivened by the
+burning atmosphere, quickened their steps and those of the camels and
+even began to sing. They passed through part of a petrified forest,
+the thickest trunks of the stone trees being of the girth of a man's
+thigh. A herd of gazelle broke from covert, Mafa Oabu slung a stone
+after them, and a doe followed by a young fawn fell with a broken
+leg. A Saracen slit the throat of the mother, and would have killed
+the fawn also, had not the boy Florens begged with tears that the
+little creature should be given into his care.
+
+"It will die," said Hazaël, "without milk to nourish it!" And he
+signed to Ephraim, who took charge of the little creature, meaning to
+slaughter it after the ritual of his people, so that it might
+lawfully be used for food.
+
+They passed Saracen grave-mounds and trains of camels, and rested at
+another well where were more camel-trains being loaded with iron
+vessels of water to carry into the Desert to the military outposts.
+Near the well was a fortress garrisoned by Roman legionaries. Roman
+officers driving chariots hailed the Jew, with whom they seemed
+acquainted, to ask the news from Alexandria. The moon rose early,
+and rode high before the caravan, as the blood-red disc of the sun
+sank into the invisible western sea. A mist rose from the burning
+ground about the legs of the Saracens and the camels, so that they
+seemed to wade through the waters of an opaque milky lake. That
+night the Saracens ate the meat of the doe-gazelle roasted on sticks
+before the fire, and drank boiled broth. And Ephraim killed the
+fawn, and dressed the meat in the Jewish way, saving the delicate
+dappled skin to make a belt and hanging purse for Florens. But even
+the promise of the belt did not pacify the boy.
+
+"I would have reared it and tamed it too," he said, changing colour:
+"You are cruel!" Nor would he taste of the flesh of the fawn, nor
+had Hazaël, in concern for the boy's distress, any great appetite for
+Ephraim's cookery.
+
+Dew did not drench the tents that night, nor soak the heavy striped
+mantles worn by the three Saracens. The breath of the Desert filled
+the lungs, the sun poured down like molten brass, the hard red ground
+ascended under the feet, and travelling became difficult, owing to
+ridges of petrified coral and banks of fossil shells and sponges.
+Urged by the whistling of the Saracens the camels exerted themselves
+painfully. This haste was of necessity, as the water began to
+thicken and grow murky in the goatskins. That night they rested
+three hours and travelled instead of sleeping. Before dawn they
+found the track they pursued wind among low broken hills, rising to
+jagged bluffs and full of yawning chasms. When the day broke, they
+perceived on looking back, these low hills magnified by a mirage to a
+towering range of mountains. Florens cried out in wonder. But the
+old Saracen made signs that the boy should be silent, as Djinni,
+Afrits and phantoms of the Desert inhabited the chasms, and resented
+the presence of beings of the human race. Skeletons of camels, and
+the mummy-dry bodies of men were found upon the track they followed.
+Mafa Oabu said that these were the remains of travellers who had
+offended the Djinns.
+
+Now they descended a steep ravine, the sides of which were clothed
+with petrified forests. The pass ended in desert, the hot reddish
+expanse of which, was broken by the glittering shield-shaped basin of
+a lake. This lake was salt, the Saracens explained by gestures, and
+the travellers, who sickened at the stench and taste of the putrid
+water in the goatskins, moistened their cracked lips with a few
+drops, and turned away their parching eyes from the tormenting sight.
+
+At the bottom of the defile appeared now the white tents of a Roman
+outpost, the eagled standard set up under a little wooden penthouse,
+close to the quarters of the officer in command. A square wall of
+rocks enclosed the encampment, which was protected by an encircling
+trench. Not far off were seen camels feeding, and the low black
+tents of a tribe of nomads, of mingled Ethiopian and Arab race.
+
+Now soldiers approached bringing water to the travellers, yellow and
+muddy and full of the larvae of flies. Filtered through a cloth,
+they drank of it eagerly. The soldiers were fever-smitten, and
+covered with scabs and swellings, from the stings of poisonous
+insects which swarmed amidst the herbage on the borders of the salt
+lake. Red fruit grew on tall thorny bushes, a thin fodder-grass
+showed with the _safsaf_ upon the arid dunes. Springs of the
+brackish water were to be found here, by digging holes of six feet
+deep in the sandy gravel. Wild-duck haunted the lake-borders; those
+of the Roman soldiers who were bowmen, habitually shot the birds for
+a change of food. That night a black-and-white lamb, purchased by
+the Jew Hazaël from the camp of the Ethiopians, was sacrificed to the
+moon, and eaten by Mafa Oabu and his men.
+
+They filled the water-skins with the turbid fluid, and left the Roman
+outpost by the salt lake on the following night. The heat grew
+fiercer towards daybreak. Waves of burning reddish gravel rose about
+them to the height of the head of a man. Mingled with the gravel
+were yellow crystals, perfectly spherical and glittering in the
+moonlight. The boy begged to be allowed to dismount and gather these
+stones, which the Saracens collected for the adornment of their
+women. To pacify Florens the Jew bought a handful or so from the
+young men.
+
+They crossed a low range of broken hills, and at noon saw Mount
+Nitria and a mirage of two salt lakes. Pied birds of grey-and-white
+with long tails, appeared towards evening, feeding on minute winged
+insects that rose from the burning sand, and signalling to each other
+with sharp, whistling calls. Jackals howled during the hours of
+rest, and, looking back when they had quitted the place of their
+encampment, they saw it alive with these foul creatures of prey.
+
+Now the ground became paved with slabs of shining mica. Bushes of
+wormwood, tamarisks and thorny shrubs with red fruit, eatable by men
+and greedily devoured by camels, grew in the friable red soil at the
+base of stony cliffs. Herds of gazelle grazed here. Hills shaped
+like cones with broken tops rose up on either side of them. Towering
+rocks of black basalt looked like giant Ethiopians menacing the
+caravan with uplifted clubs and spears. The full moon rose in
+radiance whilst the sun was sinking over the unseen western ocean,
+amid splendours of amber, topaz and ruby, sapphire and emerald.
+
+They marched before day. The Libyan sun had never burned with
+fiercer intensity. For fear that the boy would swoon and fall from
+his camel, Hazaël transferred him to his own. The young Saracens ran
+by the wearied beasts, whistling to them to march in line,--singing
+songs and jesting clumsily to distract the thoughts of the wearied
+travellers. Hazaël said within himself:
+
+"When upon the hump of an accursed camel I fry alive in the sun of
+Libya, shall I be solaced because a cricket chirps at the doorway of
+mine ear?" Yet he pretended to listen with pleasure, and bade the
+exhausted child take notice how the shadows of the Saracens gambolled
+beside them like black monkeys on the rocks. But the boy, feverish
+from the bites of the swarms of flies beside the salt lake, or
+sickened by the muddy water, drooped more and more. Sometimes he
+revived sufficiently to reiterate:
+
+"Shall we really find my father when we reach the journey's end?"
+
+Or he would vary the question by asking:
+
+"Shall I have thy son Levi and thy little Leah to play with there?"
+
+To which the Jew, tender as a woman, and fearful of increasing the
+child's distemper by thwarting him, would reply:
+
+"If God willed it, thy father would be waiting to receive thee. If
+the All Highest commanded, thy playmates would be there also. All
+things are disposed and directed by the Almighty."
+
+"Where is He?" the child asked. Hazaël answered:
+
+"He is at the zenith and at the nadir. He encompasses the world with
+His fingers, and takes up His abode in the hearts of holy and pious
+men."
+
+"May a little boy see Him? Shall I see Him?" the child queried.
+
+And Hazaël answered, groaning in spirit at the thought of the eternal
+burnings destined for the soul of this innocent, who must be reared
+in the heresy of Christianity:
+
+"The Cherubim gaze perpetually on Him, and know no weariness!"
+
+The child seated on the pad before him, felt the heaving of his
+breast, turned in his supporting arms, and looked up into his gloomy
+countenance. Then, seeing the black brows, knotted over the
+bloodshot eyes, the strange convulsion that twisted the mouth, and
+the haggard temples and hollow cheeks bedabbled with sweat, Florens
+grew pale and stared at him in fear.
+
+"Are you angry?" he faltered, and Hazaël forced his brows to unbend,
+and his lips to smile as he answered:
+
+"Perhaps, but not with thee!"
+
+"That is well," returned the boy, "for I would have you love me as
+much as you love Levi and little Leah!"
+
+"Then be content," said Hazaël's deep voice, "for even as these do I
+love thee!"
+
+Yet as he answered in gentle words, the spirit of some dark
+forefather who served Canaanitish idols with bloody rites ages before
+the Lawgiver received the Divine revelation upon the holy Mountain of
+God--tempted Hazaël to pluck away the sinewy arms that sustained the
+child in front of him--and let him fall to certain death upon the
+stones beneath the camel's feet.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+After another day's journey over stones and thorny scrub-bush, Mount
+Nitria and her ranges walled out the southern horizon, while the
+Pyramids of Memphis showed small upon the east. The ascent grew more
+steep, then the ground sloped down and the camels entered the Natrûn
+Valley. Here _safsaf_ weed, tamarisk and thorn gave place to olives,
+vines and harvested fields, upon the drying straw of which, camels,
+black goats and numerous flocks of sheep were feeding. Presently the
+valley divided into two: at the bottom of one lay the salt lakes, at
+this time of the year but six in number. Beside the lakes dwelt
+colonies of salt-workers who cultivated fields of corn, vineyards and
+olive-trees along the banks of a waterless channel that had once,
+according to tradition, formed a branch of the Nile. In the bed of
+this vanished river, and where some of the lakes had dried up, huge
+bones of unknown creatures, encrusted with glittering saline
+crystals, projected from the salt-streaked mud. These, the Saracens
+said, were the remains of some terrible giants, sons of Eblis, Lord
+of the Djinni and master of the Afrits. Upon the further range of
+hills rose the temples, pylons, palaces and streets of Scete, an
+ancient city of the Egyptians, dedicated of old to the worship of
+Horus the hawk god. The suburbs to the east were inhabited by Greek
+and Copt salt-merchants, their families and their Libyan and negro
+labourers; but the magnificence of Scete lay abandoned to foxes, bats
+and owls.
+
+The Saracen master of the camels believed this place to be the abode
+of evil Afrits, and pointing to some pillars of fine dust set
+whirling by a breeze that was blowing from the north-east across the
+deserted courtyards and huge empty squares:--
+
+"See!" said Mafa Oabu to Hazaël, "how the Accursed Ones make sport
+here. Beyond those groves of columns topped with lotus-buds, within
+those vast palaces are halls where the Sons of Eblis sit on thrones,
+crowned and immovable with their stone hands resting upon their stony
+knees.... Women with the heads of cows, carrying the Moon between
+their horns, look down on them. Troops of _peris_ carrying flowers
+and ornaments, men with the heads of hawks, crocodiles, and other
+creatures are limned on the walls.... At night they come to life,
+descend and serve the Sons of Eblis, who between moonset and cockcrow
+are released from their bonds of stone. But all the rest of the time
+the place is but the playground of the Afrits. Evil is certain to
+befall us if we pause to look on them!"
+
+Right and left of Scete, on the shoulders of the hills, were chapels
+and rows of cells, wrought by Christian monks and hermits with
+infinite patience of labour out of the Cyclopean rock. Lower down a
+stream of pure water descending a rocky gorge, made fruitful the
+fields and vegetable gardens, the olive-groves and date-palms
+cultivated by the Solitaries and the "communities with tireless
+industry and patience; and manured by loads of rich black mud,
+transported on the backs of asses and of men from the banks of the
+distant Nile.
+
+Beyond these fields and gardens stretched the great Libyan Desert.
+To the south the massive battlemented walls of the Monastery of
+Scete, backed by the distant mountain of the Cow, rose from the
+summit of a flat-topped mound of red gravel covered with black
+pebbles.
+
+Seen near, this place resembled a fortress with loopholes pierced in
+its Cyclopean masonry. An ancient bronze shield depended by two
+rusty chains from the wall beside the low doorway, through which the
+venerable Abbot Melittus, with three monks and two novices, had been
+led away to Alexandria to suffer for Christ: and a stone hammer hung
+below the shield: but it was not possible to reach the door, because
+two millstones had been rolled into the entrance before it by the
+monks: who had then re-entered the monastery by means of a rope let
+down from a window above the door.
+
+"Beat upon the shield!" Hazaël signed to one of the Saracens. The
+heathen obeyed, but so long the monks within delayed in answering the
+summons, that the child, suffering from fatigue, and fevered by the
+recent bites of the innumerable winged insects that swarmed in the
+neighbourhood of the salt lakes, began to cry.
+
+This innocent clamour evoked the apparition of a bearded monk at the
+window over the doorway. After anxious scrutiny and much
+questioning, the monk vanished. A pale beardless face now appeared
+at the aperture, and a weak but singularly distinct voice addressed
+Hazaël:
+
+"O Jew of Alexandria!" it said, "we have now no Abbot of Scete, until
+our Chapter nominate a successor to Melittus, who hath been called,
+with certain of the brethren, to reign with Jesus Christ. But for
+the present, I who am called Paule, serve as Brother Superior. Tell
+me, therefore, what you seek of us?"
+
+"Nothing for myself nor my companions, O monk!" said Hazaël roughly,
+"but lodging for the night and tendance for this child, who is weary
+with travel, and somewhat feverish. He is the only son of Philoremus
+Florens Fabius, late Prætor of the Taxes of Egypt in Alexandria,
+who--"
+
+"Let down the basket with Brother Theodore!" interrupted the thin
+voice of Paule.
+
+Then as a deep basket of osiers, containing a pleasant-faced young
+monk, was let down from the window by a rope worked by windlass and
+pulley:
+
+"O Jew, give Brother Theodore the child of the servant of Christ,
+Philoremus," said the weak voice of Paule. "Happy is the hour that
+brings us our martyred brother's son!"
+
+Then, as the camel ridden by Hazaël knelt at a word from its Saracen
+driver, and the boy, whose tears had ceased to flow, willingly
+submitted to be taken in the arms of Brother Theodore; and even
+showed pleasure as the basket ascended with its burden through the
+air,--the Jew, unable to restrain his surprise that intelligence of
+the manner of the Prætor's death should have reached this distant
+place, motioned to the Superior that he wished to speak in private.
+And as the monks drew in the basket at the window, and Paule leaned
+out, the Jew asked:
+
+"How can it be, O monk, that this was known to you?"
+
+Paule looked down at him with luminous eyes, and answered:
+
+"O faithful man! who for the sake of thine oath doest that which is
+abhorrent unto thee, didst thou not know that the great Saint, the
+Solitary of Derhor, rested here upon his way to Tabenna in the
+Thebaïd? Four days ago he left us, having seen in a vision the
+confession, the arrest and martyrdom by decapitation of the Prætor
+Philoremus Fabius!"
+
+Hazaël said, striking his great metal-shod staff upon a millstone so
+violently that the sparks flew:
+
+"Where now is this Saint of thine? Can a swift camel overtake one
+who seems to have not only the legs of the ostrich, but the eagle's
+wings? For I have a message for the man from my master!"
+
+Paule asked, with his luminous eyes bent upon the contorted features
+of the Hebrew:
+
+"Does the message concern the child?"
+
+"Nay, monk, not so!" Hazaël answered, "for the boy is to be delivered
+to the Abbot of Tabenna with certain jewels which are to be sold for
+his keep." He added as great drops of sweat started again upon his
+cheeks and temples, and his eyebrows knotted like breeding snakes:
+"He is to be baptised and reared as a Christian. These were the
+Prætor's last commands!" His great voice leaped up from him like a
+hound unleashed. He roared, striking his staff upon the stone again.
+"But better he should die to-night and be gathered to his Pagan
+ancestors. Yea, better ten thousand times! Monk, do you hear?"
+
+Paule bent his small wrinkled head upon its fleshless neck, and
+answered placidly:
+
+"Jew of Alexandria, marvellous is thy probity! Wilt thou accept at
+our hands shelter and nourishment?"
+
+Hazaël glared at Paule with bloodshot eyes, and angrily answered:
+
+"Monk of Scete! I require from you neither compliments, nor anything
+else. There is a spring beneath some date-palms a bowshot from your
+monastery. There I and my companions will encamp, unless the trees
+are yours?"
+
+Paule smiled and said, shaking his bald head:
+
+"Like the crystal water, the fruitful trees belong to none save Him
+Who made them. Rest there, and to-morrow at the second hour come to
+me for news of the child!"
+
+That night, whilst the Saracens sacrificed a black-and-white goat in
+honour of their Moon goddess and to propitiate the Afrits of Scete,
+Hazaël went apart into a solitary place in the wilderness and prayed
+to the God of his forefather Abraham. All night he prayed, kneeling
+with his forehead lifted to the sky, or lying prone with his face in
+the dust of humiliation. Then, remembering that when Joseph the
+Zaphenath-Päanea was borne in the second chariot in the royal
+procession of Pharaoh, the precious images of the false gods of Egypt
+figured in these displays; and that Joseph, in exercising vigilance
+over the goods of Pharaoh, was obliged to watch over and faithfully
+preserve these idols, he rose up and shook the sand of the Desert
+from his beard and robe.
+
+At the second hour of the day he went to the Monastery. The
+millstones had been removed from before the door, as for an honoured
+guest. He beat upon the shield. Bolts groaned in their grooves of
+stone, and the small but heavy gate swung back upon its hinges,
+showing a courtyard within a square wall, set about with small cells
+built of rough stones and roofed with reeds. Date-palms and
+fig-trees, with a few olives were growing in a grassy enclosure about
+a stone-curbed well, over which was a wheel with a windlass, chain
+and bucket. Upon the threshold of the gate was Paule, tall,
+emaciated and with strangely luminous eyes, standing surrounded by a
+group of other monks in similar coarse brown habits. The Sacrifice
+was over, the board was beaten to summon the brethren to the
+refectory, as Hazaël, frowning, stooped almost double to pass under
+the squat archway of the gate. But as he rose to his great height
+the boy Florens came running to him with so noticeable a return of
+health and vigour, that the Jew could not repress an exclamation of
+surprise. As Florens caught at his arm, and raised towards the
+swarthy lips a face all fresh and smiling, framed in fair locks on
+which light drops of pure water hung glittering, Hazaël asked,
+looking keenly into the clear eyes:
+
+"What have these monks done to thee?"
+
+The child frowned with an effort of recollection, and said, pulling
+at a silken cord that now hung about his neck:
+
+"Abbot Paule has given me a silver medal, and also a new name. I am
+now called Mark!"
+
+At which Hazaël, seeing that the medal bore the Image of the
+Crucified, and a reverse of the great Apostle of Christian
+Alexandria; and comprehending that the drops on those golden hairs
+were the lustral waters of baptism, thrust the boy violently from
+him. He turned red and said reproachfully:
+
+"Why are you always angry with me now?"
+
+That night the caravan left Scete. Travelling southwards they came
+before dawn to the camel-route running between the Oasis of Ammon and
+the Nile, and thenceforward followed it to the east.
+
+Leaving the camels and the Saracens to await them at Memphis, the two
+Jews with the boy entered the sailing-vessel of some Coptish sailors,
+who for a certain sum conveyed them up the river to Tabenna. This
+place, the boatmen told the boy, was once Taben-Isi, the City of
+Isis. The religious house ruled by Abba Pachomius was built of great
+stones which had once formed part of the ancient temples. Thirteen
+hundred monks of the tonsure were under Pachomius in the Monastery of
+Tabenna; and in the mountains of that region were many other
+monasteries and nunneries, also seven thousand hermits, following
+their several Rules in their own cells, there waging war against the
+world, the flesh and Satan; or living in tombs and caves after the
+method of the Athlete of Christ.
+
+"Who is the Athlete of Christ?" the child asked the boatmen.
+
+The Copts looked at the Jews, and observing that Hazaël listened,
+they were troubled, because they were Christians. But Hazaël said to
+them:
+
+"Speak without fear. As the Most High lives, I will not betray you!
+This is a Christian child, my master's son, I carry to the monks."
+
+Then the boatmen told of the deeds of Christ's great servant, the
+Egyptian, who had been born of wealthy parents near Aphroditopolis,
+and upon their death inheriting their lands and wealth, had given all
+to the poor, crossed the River, and became a Solitary; living first
+in an empty tomb in a burial-place hewn by the ancients out of the
+mountain, being supplied by a peasant man who visited him, with
+bread, salt and water, weaving ropes of palm-leaves and sleeping on
+the bare ground.
+
+"Here," said the master of the boat, "the Adversary appeared to this
+holy man tempting him; and devils, sent by the lord of devils,
+assailed him with execrations and blows, whilst apparitions
+continually beset him, in the shape of lions, wolves, hyænas,
+serpents and other reptiles--which he banished by the power of the
+Word. Then, still a young man, he went out alone into the Desert and
+there lived in a ruined temple that was in the mountains above
+Panopolis for more than twenty years. In time his fame drew all the
+monks that were then in Egypt, and great folks and the curious, and
+those who were sick."
+
+"And," said the other Copt, "when the Saint would not show himself to
+them, they lifted the gate out of its hinges, threw themselves down
+on their faces, and supplicated: 'Man of God, come forth!' And when
+he came, he seemed to those that had known him, as young as when he
+had entered. His look converted, his touch healed, his speech was
+exceedingly wonderful. And in the might of the grace that was given
+them, the monks reared a great Monastery near Panopolis that they
+might live there in holiness and be ruled by this Blessed One. But
+sixteen years ago he withdrew himself by the Desert of Arabia into
+the upper fastnesses of the mountain called Derhor, leaving another
+to be their Abba and spiritual guide. Since when, all here is quiet,
+though of old, even to men passing in their vessels on the river, the
+sound of great tumult and hideous outcries used to come down from the
+rocky eyrie where this eagle of God had made his nest. In the time
+of the first Persecution of the Christians by the Emperor, he
+descended from his mountain and went down to Alexandria to minister
+to the Confessors in prison there. He wished, they say, for
+martyrdom, but it was denied him. This very year, before the grapes
+and mulberries were ripe--when the Roman soldiers came to Tabenna,
+and the monks withstood them with boiling pitch and scalding
+water--they had sight of the Saint again!"
+
+"His white hair and beard clothed him," the master of the vessel
+continued, "like a fleece newly bleached. He stayed but a few hours
+with the monks at Tabenna. Then he came down to the banks of the
+river, made the Sign of the Cross, lifted up his arms and sang a
+psalm, both powerfully and sweetly:
+
+ '_Come and behold the works of God
+ Who turneth the sea into dry land!
+ In the river they shall pass on foot;
+ There shall we rejoice in Him._'
+
+
+We have no knowledge that any one ferried him over, and whether
+angels conveyed him we are not able to say! But almost immediately
+he was seen continuing his journey to Alexandria upon the further
+bank!"
+
+Hazaël broke out, forgetting his profession of tolerance: "Surely you
+saw this Athlete, who in three strides can traverse the distance
+between the Red Sea and the Thebaïd, separate the waters with his
+staff like the Lawgiver of Israel, and pass dryshod through their
+midst! Or perhaps he walked on the surface like the Nazarene
+Prophet, who was skilled in theurgy, and did many wonderful things?"
+
+The Copts were silent and exchanged glances. But now the Monastery
+of Tabenna appeared in the distance, seated upon the skirts of the
+mountains, amidst groves of palms and olives, reaching to the river's
+brink. A great cemetery was near it, with many tombs both old and
+recent. A boat rowed by Egyptians, carrying a bier, with a corpse
+swathed and bound with garlands of bay-leaves and myrtle, and
+surrounded by mourners, now crossed the bows of the sailing-vessel
+and pulled for the Tabenna shore. Monks in black robes, with a
+cross-bearer and a boy-novice carrying a thurible waited at the
+landing-steps to take charge of the body, which was that of a
+Christian desirous of being interred in the cemetery's consecrated
+earth. As with the chanting of a hymn, the bier was lifted from the
+boat and raised on the shoulders of four of the brethren, the vessel
+containing the Jews and the son of Philoremus, touched the land. The
+monks moved on, carrying the bier, the mourners followed, and the
+strangers brought up the rear.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+Seen in the distance the great Monastery of Tabenna was not unlike an
+Egyptian temple set between the mountain's rocky knees. So great was
+it that the sight of its fortress-like exterior inspired
+astonishment. Without the house were fields, gardens and orchards,
+and the Monastery, built four-square, contained a cruciform Church, a
+huge refectory where all the monks ate together; a school, a library,
+and a vast warren of cells where the monks dwelt, illuminated by
+little windows looking on the inner courtyard. Seats were their
+beds, for their Rule prevented them from taking their rest lying
+down: they wore sandals of hemp, coarse habits of black wool with
+leather cinctures, and skull-caps without nap, worked with a purple
+cross. The Abbot Pachomius was so bowed with the weight of years,
+that the upper part of his body was bent into a half-circle, and his
+face looked out from the middle of his breast. So many and so deep
+were the furrows upon that countenance--Time might have used it as a
+sailing-chart. Yet so kindly a smile beautified its ugliness, that
+the boy went to the Abbot without fear. The faithfulness of Hazaël
+in carrying out so strictly the commands of his dead master, while he
+would not even permit himself to enter the Monastery filled Pachomius
+of Tabenna, as it had Paule of Scete, with admiration of the man.
+
+He said, having received the message of the martyred Prætor from the
+Jew,--whom he received in the inner courtyard, under a giant baobab
+that towered above the lofty walls of the building:
+
+"It shall be said of you, O Hazaël, son of Hazaël, paraphrasing the
+saying of the Master: '_You entered not in yourself, but him who
+would enter you hindered not!_' Verily to one who hath proved
+himself so faithful in this matter, much shall be given by Him one
+day."
+
+"All that I require," replied Hazaël, "is a writing acknowledging the
+delivery of the boy to your safe keeping, and the receipt of these
+valuable jewels which I now place in your hands. They are to defray
+the cost of Florens' living and instruction, and the accounts of the
+rent of the vineyards of Kir Saba, the boy's inheritance, I will
+render when once in every third year I visit him in this place."
+
+"If it be the will of God, friend," interposed the Abbot gently, "for
+death spares not even the just."
+
+"Should the Holy One, blessed be He! sever my cord and cause the
+vessel of my life to be shivered on the well-stones," returned Hazaël
+imperturbably, "a kinsman will discharge the duty in my stead. Or my
+son Levi when he attains the years of discretion. Or the son of
+Levi, possibly."
+
+"By the time thy Levi's son was ripe enough to undertake the
+business," said Pachomius smiling, as he seated himself on a stone
+bench beneath the shadow of the great baobab, and stroked the fair
+hair of the boy who stood beside him; "this little Roman might be a
+father also!"
+
+"He is to follow his desire, whether he wishes to become a monk or a
+soldier," returned the Jew, who had declined the Abbot's previous
+invitation to be seated on the stone bench under the towering baobab.
+He delivered his master's message concerning the black onyx, and
+continued: "And now give me this writing of acknowledgment, for I
+must go upon my way."
+
+The Abbot drew from a leathern wallet at his girdle some squares of
+papyrus, and said as he took a writing-reed and an inkhorn from a
+shabby palm-wood case:
+
+"Of eating meat I say to thee nothing. But wouldst thou depart
+without breaking bread or tasting wine in the house of the Master?"
+
+Hazaël answered, drawing down his black brows and scowling at the
+Abbot:
+
+"A Christian is a Christian, and a Jew is a Jew!"
+
+Pachomius returned the smouldering fire of the glance with a look of
+mildness.
+
+"The First of all the Christians was the greatest of all the Jews."
+
+The dark face sneered, and the whites of the black eyes glittered as
+the strong teeth flashed under Hazaël's tangled beard. Pachomius
+added:
+
+"Yet in the days of your youth, were you not nourished by a
+Christian?"
+
+"In those days my master worshipped Jupiter and the other gods of the
+Romans," said the deep voice out of the thicket of tangled black
+curls. "If the camel that bore the beam that killed my father, Rab
+Shemuel, had belonged to a Pagan idolater, I would, in revenge of the
+mockery wherewith that camel-driver mocked my father, have hated the
+Pagans, as I hate Christians to this day!"
+
+"So that is the bitter reason of thy virulence!"
+
+Pachomius, seated on the stone bench, had finished the receipt in
+rounded Coptic writing, and scattered upon it a pinch of sand. He
+was now waving the square of papyrus gently in the air to dry it.
+Hazaël went on, standing upright in the sun-blaze, with his shortened
+shadow squatting like a negro at his feet:
+
+"The reason! And from the cup of my bitterness since manhood came to
+me, many Christians have drunk death! Now it is clear to you why I
+accept no seat under a Christian roof, O Pachomius!"
+
+The Abbot's mild eyes looked out of the midst of the many wrinkles,
+without resentment, only seeing the indomitable honesty of this man.
+The quiet voice said:
+
+"You were Chief Secretary to Philoremus the Prætor of Taxes. It was
+easy for you ... I understand! Had you acquaintance with Arius the
+Heretic?" ...
+
+The deep answer came:
+
+"Monk, I know Arius the Presbyter. And I have aided that treacherous
+and ambitious priest to encompass his ends,--for the serving of my
+own, that were righteous in the eyes of Israel!"
+
+"Was it then your aim to destroy your benefactor?"
+
+The question shot like an arrow to the mark. A dark flush rose
+beneath the swarthy skin, and the mouth under the forest of black
+tangled hair underwent a grim convulsion.
+
+"The Lord on High knoweth that it was not! For though I was well
+aware my master went secretly forth in a habit like that of the
+Parabolani, yet to mingle with the people in various disguises had
+ever been his secret whim. It was not until I returned from a
+journey into Palestine that--" he choked--"that I learned the
+Accusers had testified against him--that I found him a prisoner under
+guard beneath his own roof--with the seal of the Military Governor
+upon his door!"
+
+Pachomius regarded the speaker with compassion. He said:
+
+"It may not then be known to you that Arius accused the Prætor in a
+letter sent to the Prefect of Alexandria purporting to plead on
+behalf of Christians outlawed by Maximianus. '_For,_' said he, '_O
+Mettius Rufus! if Christianity be a crime, first banish it from your
+public tribunals. How long is it since your Prætor of Taxes has
+administered oaths to the public without burning incense, and
+invoking the Sabine deity? The Prætor's Chief Secretary, Aben
+Hazaël, the Jew, might be able to throw light upon this question.
+Indeed, it was from him I gathered these interesting facts!_'"
+
+A strange sound issued from the twisted mouth of the hearer.
+
+"O poisonous serpent! Unclean, slavering hound! ... And my master
+knew of this?"
+
+"Knew, but would not believe that you could be guilty of treachery.
+Did not Philoremus receive you as cordially as of old?"
+
+The blazing eyes under the fierce black brows were suddenly veiled
+with water. Hazaël stammered as the heavy drops fell and glittered
+on his beard:
+
+"He opened his arms to me as a father! ... He trusted me with his
+flesh and blood, and all the State had left to him.... He never gave
+me to suspect by a word or even a sign.... Give me that paper you
+have in your hand, for I am in haste to begone from here. I have yet
+another errand to carry out for him!"
+
+He struck his staff deep into the sand, took the papyrus, cleared his
+bleared vision with a sweep of his hairy wrist, and read the monk's
+receipt. Then he stowed it in a wallet hidden within the bosom of
+his robe, grasped his staff and looked round as though seeking for
+something. The boy, who had strayed some distance away during the
+conversation, was standing before a row of pens containing the pets
+of the Monastery. Some guinea-fowls, with knobs of horn upon their
+beaks, and blue fleshy lappets upon the sides of their heads; a large
+brown-and-white eagle, chained to a perch, who observed his
+surroundings with half-veiled, ruby-coloured eyes, and a pair of
+graceful gazelles, brought from the Arabian Desert, enraptured
+Florens:
+
+"Can they be mine? ... Shall one of them be mine?" he asked
+breathlessly. Then as the shadow of Hazaël darkened the enclosure,
+and the Jew's hand closed upon his arm: "You took away the other,"
+the child said with a quivering lip, "and told Ephraim to kill it for
+supper. But you cannot take away either of these, because they
+belong to the monks!"
+
+"Even as you do, from this time forth," said Hazaël, with an attempt
+at pleasantry. "So send a kiss by me to my wife, whom you wept so
+much to part with--and another to the playmate Levi--and another to
+little Leah--whom you love best of all!"
+
+Then as the boy hung shyly back, estranged by recent harshness, he
+caught him roughly to his breast, kissed him, pricking his soft
+cheeks with the rough beard, and set him down again. The gazelles
+instantly absorbed him: Hazaël was completely forgotten: or else with
+the mimetic instinct of the child, Florens feigned forgetfulness.
+
+Then the Jew looked round from his great height for the crooked
+little figure of the Abbot. Pachomius was standing under the
+wide-spreading branches of the baobab, with his crossed arms hidden
+by his wide, loose black sleeves, and his eyes closed as though in
+prayer. He opened them as suddenly as though he had been touched,
+and said, as though replying to a question of Hazaël's:
+
+"He whom you design to seek out is in the inner fastness of Mount
+Attaka, below the dome called Derhor. Take a swift camel with bread,
+dates and water and a Saracen to guide thee and lead the beast.
+Follow the Desert to the North for the space of three days.... Climb
+the path over the Mountains and traverse the Great Valley of the
+Chariots of Pharaoh towards the rising of the sun. Cross the
+torrent-beds, and follow the pilgrim-way that leads north over the
+skirts of the mountains, the Gulf of Heroöpolis being upon thy right.
+Then pursue the pass that ascends to the west. This summit is the
+gate of the Outer Mountain, where thou wilt find a spring, with
+palms, a corn-patch and a garden-plot. This is the garden of the
+Athlete of Christ, who first broke the ground and tilled it, sowing
+lentils and vegetables. And though at first wild animals destroyed
+the crops when they came to drink water, he bade them cease from
+doing harm in the Name of the Lord! and the creatures obeyed the
+voice of His Saint. Take what you need of the growing things, they
+are there for the use of the Blessed One--and the comfort of those
+pilgrims who from near and far resort to him."
+
+Hazaël saluted Pachomius and said:
+
+"Of the water I shall drink, for the Most High caused it to spring in
+the midst of the wilderness. But of the vegetables I will not take,
+for the reason that you know. Farewell!"
+
+"Stay!" said Pachomius with sudden, unexpected energy, "for I have
+more to say to thee, who art just and unjust, generous and
+revengeful, savage as a leopard, and faithful as a hound. Hear, thou
+that consumest the children of Christ in the flame of thy hatred for
+the man that killed thy father! If thou wouldst pierce the
+fastnesses of the Holy Mountain and attain speech with its Saint,--be
+not tempted to turn aside by the sight of gold or beauty! And forget
+not that to him who endures all things in patience, the Gate of Hope
+will open at last!"
+
+"'The Gate of Hope!' Who spoke to thee--who has told thee?" Hazaël
+stammered, growing livid beneath his swarthy skin.
+
+But the Abbot made no reply. His eyes were closed and his lips were
+moving, as in fervent but inaudible prayer. Some time had elapsed
+after the tall gaunt figure of the Jew had crossed the courtyard
+threshold, when the eyes of radiant light reopened in the brown mask
+of wrinkles, and the Abbot of Tabenna sighed, and rose upon his feet.
+
+"O Keeper of the Secrets of Heaven, and Conqueror of Satan!" he said.
+"How clearly thy voice came to me but now, speaking at the inner ear.
+And Thou, O Lord my God! how marvellous are Thy dispensations! Thy
+Wisdom, how measureless, like the Eternity that sprang from It...."
+
+He made the Sign of the Cross upon his brow, lips and breast, as the
+board was beaten that called the brethren to the church for
+recitation of the Second Office. Later he ascended the wall that
+made a fortress of the Monastery; and looked upon the wide Nile,
+flowing north-westwards between its borders of fertile land and the
+sterile sands of the desert, studded with perishing cities and the
+crumbling ruins of temples; mysterious labyrinths, petrified forests;
+banks of shells and seaweed, coral and bleached bones of monstrous
+creatures that bred in the primæval slime before the sea was
+separated from the land, and their Maker created Man.
+
+The sun of early noon beat down relentlessly. Pulling his cowl over
+his bald skull and shading his eyes, the monk looked searchingly to
+the north. In the distance a mirage created a marvellous effect of
+blue lake, bordered by palaces embosomed in groves that were
+reflected in the shining depths. The broad stripe of yellow desert
+lying between the mirage and the habitations, monasteries, gardens
+and fields that lay about the ruins of the town and the Holy House of
+Tabenna showed some caravans approaching, but the monk paid no heed
+to them.
+
+A moving speck, rapidly lessening in size upon the glaring yellow
+distance, he knew to be the camel ridden by Hazaël. A speck much
+smaller would be the camel-driver and guide. In three days,
+travelling at that rate of speed, they would reach the eastward-going
+track over the mountains, and descend into the valley of the Chariots
+of Pharaoh. Four days more would bring them to the Gate of the Outer
+Mountain and the spring of the Athlete of Christ.
+
+"I obeyed," Pachomius thought, "the word of the Saint without
+question, the message coming to me from him who is the chosen
+messenger of God. Yet sinful as I am, I question now, and wonder.
+Why, O Holy One, didst thou but now command me to warn this
+relentless Jew--who like another Saul of Tarsus digs pits and traps
+for the destruction of Christians!--as though the stubborn enemy of
+Christ were to be tempted like a Christian Saint? Surely the
+Calumniator, knowing this man Hazaël for his own--will not trouble to
+ensnare him? Never have I encountered a soul more upright--or more
+remote from grace!"
+
+A thrill Pachomius knew well, passed through his breast into his
+inner being. Not for the first time by many, a voice well-known,
+reduced by distance to a gossamer thread of infinite tenuity, spoke
+at the Abbot's inner ear.
+
+"And if, even as that Saul who slew the Prophets, the Lord hath
+chosen such a man to be His servant, shall not the Judge of all the
+world do righteously? And if this man, blinded by pride and wrath,
+reject the offered grace--turn from the Light, and quit the threshold
+ere the Gate be opened--shall He Who planted in the human breast the
+soul--that is a spark of His Divinity--and dowered Man with Free Will
+that Man might choose Him!--shall He be blamed because His creature
+hurls back the gift into the Giver's Face?"
+
+"I have erred!" said the Abbot, striking his breast--"O Lord, do Thou
+forgive thy silly servant!"
+
+And all through the rest of that burning day, Pachomius knelt upon
+the wall of the Monastery of Tabenna, purging himself of sin by
+penance, and praying for Hazaël the Jew.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+At the spring of the oasis at the summit of the pass leading to the
+Outer Mountain, bronze-coloured doves, several oryx, and a herd of
+wild asses were drinking, greyish-red creatures these, white bellied,
+and marked by a broad black stripe down the back. The birds took
+wing, the beasts scattered over the plain at the approach of the
+camel and its two riders, who halted to water the animal and fill the
+goatskins, and take food and rest.
+
+Bands of painted, naked Blemmyes, the fierce Ethiopian nomads of the
+south and eastern desert had shown themselves occasionally, but made
+no attempt to attack the travellers, whom they perhaps judged to be
+too poor to plunder, or too strong, fierce and well-armed to be
+despoiled without exacting tribute of life in return.
+
+Before sunrise Hazaël and the Saracen camel-driver, who had agreed to
+guide him,--struck northwards through a rocky and difficult defile.
+This was the opening of the road that led to the inner fastnesses of
+Attaka, that stupendous mountain of pale red granite, streaked with
+limestone, and sometimes veined with porphyry, from whose summit, it
+was said, one could view the distant Mediterranean upon one hand; and
+upon the other look over to the Sinai ranges, across the Gulf of
+Heroöpolis, that widens into the Red Sea.
+
+The region in which Hazaël now found himself was savage, bare and
+solitary. At the top of the defile the camel halted and knelt. The
+Jew dismounted and looked back. A crimson glow spread over the
+shining waters of the Gulf of Heroöpolis, and every object possessed
+two shadows; one cast by the sunrise and the other by the moon. The
+yellow plain of the desert, looking west, exhibited an illusory vista
+of cool blue waters, out of which rose little islands plumed with
+palm groves, reflected in the depths.
+
+"Return," the Jew said to the guide, "and wait for me with the camel
+at the spring of the oasis. Yet first describe to me again, in
+number and device as I shall find them, the various signs by which
+pilgrims to the hermitage that is on Derhor, may find their way."
+
+He listened as the guide spoke, storing these things in his strong
+memory. Here a column of porphyry set up; there a pile of
+oddly-shaped granite boulders; at the mouth of the defile an arrow
+scratched on a limestone rock with a lump of crystal; at the parting
+of ways a rude Cross fashioned of the pieces of a broken staff, and
+jammed between two great stones.
+
+"Swear to me by your gods," said the Jew when the idolater had ended
+his recital, "that you have named these marks in the order in which
+they come!"
+
+"By the Face of Truth!" swore the camel-driver, who was a wild and
+savage-looking object, with tangled hair smeared with rancid butter;
+grotesquely painted of face and body; hung about with charms and
+wearing a waist-cloth of gaudy colours under his mantle of
+camel-hair. "I have not lied! Follow these directions and you will
+return to find me waiting for you with the _heggin_. Yet pay me now
+the sum agreed, in case you lose your purse upon your way!"
+
+Hazaël reluctantly paid down half, and set out upon his solitary
+journey.
+
+The steep defile being ascended, the first sign was recognised in the
+shape of a rude pillar of porphyritic rock. This passed, the surface
+of the ground began to be more gently inclined. Heat radiated from
+the huge pinkish-granite boulders that almost scorched the flesh.
+The ground was covered with blocks of this stone, between which
+showed the arid yellow soil of the desert. A scrubby bush with black
+stems set with long white thorns, also tufts of seeding wild garlic
+and a spiny red-fleshed wild cucumber, bitter exceedingly, with wild
+fig-trees, grew between the granite rocks. Wild goats with great
+horns walked upon the verge of towering precipices and bounded from
+ledge to ledge. White eagles and huge ravens screamed or croaked
+from inaccessible eyries. The defile being passed, the rocks sank
+down. Barely a dry weed relieved the barren aridity. The yellow
+gravelly ground began to billow upwards, and into the troughs of
+these billows the sun poured down like molten brass.
+
+Climbing over one of these extraordinary ridges, the Jew made an
+astonishing discovery. It was a dish or charger, circular as a
+Gaulish buckler, wrought with the victories of forgotten kings, and
+of the purest gold. The love of the Semite for this precious
+metal,--of which were carved the lions that adorned the throne of
+Solomon,--plates of which covered the Temple built by Herod,--and of
+which the Vine above its chief entrance was gloriously made,--caused
+Hazaël's sight to dim and his powerful frame to tremble. Such a mass
+of gold, all his by the right of discovery! ... He threw himself upon
+the treasure with such eagerness that his foot slipped upon a rolling
+pebble. He fell--and the gourd water-bottle he carried at his girdle
+was smashed into bits.
+
+Moments passed before he grasped the full extent of his misfortune.
+With all his strength he could barely lift the massy charger, which
+might have contained a wild-deer or a calf roasted whole. Sweat
+streamed from him, and a raging thirst was aggravated by his efforts.
+He moistened his throat with a few drops of water left in a fragment
+of the bottle, covered the golden dish with sand, and marked the
+place with three stones. Then he rose up and strode onwards.
+Another defile presented itself before him,--not leading upwards but
+bending to the north.
+
+To the south another opened, floored with huge granite slabs, frowned
+on by precipices. At its mouth on the left side was a conical mound
+of rounded black stones. Night rushed down before Hazaël had decided
+which of these forbidding roads it would be best to follow. That
+indicated by the mound looked the worst.... He was beginning to
+doubt the honesty of the camel-driver. If the hermitage beneath the
+summit of Derhor was to be reached, he must trust to his own good
+wits.
+
+He chose the northern defile, and presently--with the rising
+moon--came into a wide valley walled in by sheer cliff-faces of
+limestone. At its eastern side rose a precipice of coal-black stone,
+down which appeared to flow a foaming waterfall. This appearance was
+caused by snow-white quartz, issuing like a solid torrent from a
+point high above, and flowing down into the rocky valley. There was
+no way out of this trap but the way by which Hazaël had come in.
+With his agony of thirst increased tenfold by the unreal show of
+water, he lifted his arms above his head and savagely cursed the
+deceptive flow. And as the echoes of his deep voice resounded from
+the precipitous walls of the valley, he turned about sharply--for a
+high whinnying laugh had answered from behind him--and the clatter of
+hoofs, light and small as an ass's or goat's, followed--galloping
+over the pavement of broken stone....
+
+"Who laughed there?" the Jew cried, but no human voice answered, and
+the moon was veiled behind a light cloud that afforded no hope of
+rain. When the planet looked forth, no sign appeared of the supposed
+ass and his laughing rider; and Hazaël, suppressing the desire to
+bestow another curse upon the cheating torrent, made the two
+benedictions, and repeated the Shema for the first
+night-watch,--fortifying himself against the attacks of evil spirits
+within an iron wall of prayer. Then he painfully retraced his steps
+through the defile previously traversed,--munching the dates he
+carried in his wallet,--as the dried bread without saliva to moisten
+it could not be swallowed without pain. And as he went, he slept by
+snatches,--often wakened from one of these dozes by tripping amongst
+boulders, or jagged sharp-edged stones.
+
+Walking still with indomitable determination, he had just repeated
+the prayer for the third night-watch, when he stepped into daylight
+across the edge of dawn. A dazzling play of colour was smitten by
+the sunrise from the wilderness of stone beneath and about him.
+Broad veins of purple and greenish-white porphyry, with red granite,
+and yellow and black limestone, with outcroppings of snowy quartz,
+streaked the towering sides of the defile: the stones and gravel
+beneath his great travelling boots of hippo-hide,--whose heels of
+elephant-nail kept him from slipping,--was composed of fragments of
+these. Looking about he came to the conclusion that in sleep, or
+during an interval of darkness, he had turned aside into another
+path. This led steeply up, and up,--the vari-coloured rocks closing
+in until a mere streak of fierce blue sky between the walls at the
+tops of the defile showed where egress might be obtained. To delay
+here was to die. Therefore Hazaël determined to go on.
+
+Now, as he toiled upwards under the increasing torture of the
+sunrays, delusions born of thirst and weariness began to haunt his
+path. The faces of his wife Miriam, of Levi his first-born son and
+of his little daughter Leah,--rose up before him in the vivid hues of
+life. His dead master; the child Florens, or Mark as he must now be
+called; the monk Paule and the Abbot of Tabenna, moved with him among
+the scorching stones, on which the lizard rarely basked; and between
+which a few dry bushes lived without visible nourishment. Through a
+strange roaring in his ears he distinguished the voices of these
+phantoms. Sometimes he answered them without ceasing to walk.
+
+He retained by this time barely the semblance of humanity. His eyes
+beneath the beetling brows were red as those of the captive eagle of
+Tabenna: and his long hair, and curling beard, uncombed; tangled with
+burrs; soaked with sweat, and clotted with the dust with which his
+ragged garments were covered, had the appearance of a wig carved in
+stone. Blood flowed from cuts upon his gaunt sun-blackened
+limbs--sustained when he had fallen. He realised that without water
+he could not now live long. Should there be dew that night, he might
+find sufficient relief by licking the stones, to endure forty-eight
+hours longer. Did no dew fall, he might possibly survive yet another
+day. What grieved him most was, that as the news of his death could
+not reach Alexandria for a long time after the return of Ephraim by
+way of the Libyan Desert with Mafa Oabu and the Saracens; his son
+Levi--who had already begun to study the Mishnah--would not say
+Kaddish for his father for many moons to come. And the thought of
+the anguish of his widowed Miriam would have moistened his parched
+eyelids, had in their dry and gritty channels one single tear
+remained....
+
+Stumbling amidst boulders, striding from stone to stone, falling,
+dragging himself to his feet, and staggering on again, the recurrent
+image of Miriam tormented him more sorely. The fancy that at the top
+of the pass--where the rocks approached each other so nearly--her
+well-loved figure would appear with that square of blue sky behind
+it, became conviction. He bounded on, obsessed by the idea....
+
+"Miriam! My loved one! ..."
+
+He breathed like a beast roaring. His parched gullet and dried-up
+lungs would barely admit the air. He was bruised from head to foot
+and wounded in many places; but beyond that square of burning blue he
+would find--he knew it--home.... Home,--where he was welcomed as a
+King on each return from a journey,--the rooms festively adorned even
+as on the Sabbath! the table spread with fair linen, rich porcelain
+and costly plate,--the dishes such as he loved best; the thin sweet
+Mareotic wine cooled exquisitely in snow....
+
+"Miriam.... My wife! I come!"
+
+He heard a sweet voice singing.... He was nearing the square of
+burning blue framed in the porphyritic rock when a waft of perfume
+came to him, and a figure filled the frame.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+A woman, but not Miriam. He stared at her blankly. He strove to
+speak, but his stiff tongue only clicked against his dry palate. His
+mouth gaped. He drank her in with long pants, veritably as though
+her beauty had been the luscious wine of Ephesus, chilled with Mount
+Hermon's snow.
+
+She was draped in a robe of fine Egyptian byssus with crimson and
+purple borders, fastened about her rounded hips, and drawn over her
+beautiful bronze-tinted shoulders and bosom in many transparent
+folds. From beneath an Egyptian headdress of enamelled guinea-fowl's
+feathers her rich hair, plaited with gold wire strung with orient
+pearls and other jewels, fell down in broad bands on either side of
+her small face of purest oval, from which piercing glances were
+launched as arrows under eyebrows like ebony bows. Her wide silken
+trousers were red as the heart of a cut pomegranate; yet shot with
+green and purple in the folds. Her tiny sandals were of white
+leather, ornamented with golden studs.
+
+"O Isis! Mother of the Dog Star!" ...
+
+She veiled herself at the sight of the stranger. The rich amber and
+crimson tints of her cheeks and lips, glowing through the diaphanous
+covering, suggested ripe nectarines in a dish of frosted crystal.
+Her long eyes, under their jetty brows, were luminous and
+beryl-green. The voice that issued from her scarlet lips was as the
+cooing of doves in the sycamores; as the gurgling of waters from the
+heart of a mossy hill, as she continued: shading her face with an
+amber-handled fan of red flamingo-feathers, and rocking with her
+quickened breaths the heavy necklace of huge pearls suspending an
+emerald talisman between her swelling breasts....
+
+"Pardon, my lord! but you appeared so suddenly! And O, the
+gods!--being a woman unprotected--and this so wild and terrible a
+place--"
+
+Hazaël knew that his aspect must be terrifying. But the perfume of
+roses that exhaled from the fair woman mounted to his brain in waves
+of dizziness. Hush! Again the doves were cooing:
+
+"I am the wife of an Egyptian noble. We live across the Bay, at
+Arsinoë, but pass the vintage-months in our summer palace at Aënus.
+And--my lord is stricken in years and yet desires posterity!--"
+There was a dancing gleam of mockery in the sleepy beryl eyes. "We
+have visited the shrine of the god at Pannias, but alas!--without
+remedy. So my lord commanded me, poor me!--to seek out the dwelling
+of this Christian hermit, offer him rich gifts, and ask him to pray
+for us to The Crucified.... Indeed, to be rich and without heirs is
+sad for the poor old man, is it not? Yet am I to blame for this?"
+She reared her little head upon the rounded throat, and the beryl
+eyes blazed angrily. "No, by Hathor! My lord Makrisi has been young
+and handsome; even, dear stranger--" the feathers of her fan softly
+touched the cheek of Hazaël,--"as thou thyself! ... Now is he a
+withered branch. And"--she shrugged--"would even the fields of Egypt
+bring forth their abundance, without the fertilising waters of the
+Nile? ..."
+
+Insensibly he had approached, his long, heavy footsteps setting the
+loose stones of the steep pathway sliding downwards. His bloodshot
+eyes were at the level of her scarlet lips, between which rows of
+milk-white teeth were gleaming; his bearded mouth was dangerously
+near the wooing fragrance of her bosom. She sighed, and warm sweet
+fragrance assailed his expanding nostrils, and caressed his parched
+temples and cheeks. And the heat of the morning sun was like the
+downward draught of a white-hot smelting furnace. And the dazzling
+blue above and behind her seemed to burn in azure flame....
+
+"O speak again! ... Do not cease!" he heard himself croaking, as
+though the cool, sweet, gurgling voice had power to quench the thirst
+with which he burned. She laughed beautifully; and said, pointing
+with her fan to a great reed pannier with a carrying-strap, set
+within the shadow of a deep cleft or cave in the face of the porphyry
+rock:
+
+"See how this surly Saint has treated me, a Princess of the house of
+Schabak! Look upon this basket of purple figs, and black grapes
+bursting with honeyed ripeness! and green melons with scarlet flesh
+dripping with cloying golden juice.... By Phthah! the weight is as
+much as my black slave Zet can bear, and this man would not even open
+the door of the ruined temple under the shadow of the dome of Derhor,
+where he dwells with the Lili and the Lilith--the bat and the
+screech-owl--and the great white eagles, and the falcons of the
+rock--or answer me a word. So I wept, I was so angered, and Zet wept
+also,--for to carry the pannier down the mountain was abominable to
+him. And when we heard you coming he set it down and ran away. And
+for this he shall be beaten with rods until the blood runs, when we
+return home. Why do you look at me so strangely, O Satrap? for I see
+by your mien that you are governor of a province, in Assyria or
+Persia possibly? Am I less fair than the women of your country?
+Have I no beauty in your sight?"
+
+Hazaël answered in his thirst-cracked voice, with reddened eyes
+devouring her:
+
+"O Princess! Even in dreams I have never beheld a woman to compare
+with thee! But--but--I am wedded. A fountain springs in the
+courtyard of my house, and a fruitful vine shadows my threshold; and
+as apples of gold in a network of silver, precious unto me is the
+love of my wife!"
+
+He reeled as he spoke and clouds passed before his eyes as though the
+steam of the blood boiling in his veins had rushed into his
+brain-pan. Blindly he sought to push them away. And a soft small
+hand closed on his huge wrist, and his arm became powerless and fell
+across her shoulder. He swayed like a giant palm-tree whose trunk is
+sawn through. And with astonishing strength the Princess supported
+him, saying in that voice like the gurgle of cool waters:
+
+"Thou art famished. Men unfed ever talk of virtue. There are other
+things in the pannier besides figs and melons and grapes. Rolls of
+Egyptian flour, white as snow and light as foam-flakes; and roasted
+quails in peppered jelly, wrapped in fresh green leaves. And
+meat-balls with spices, cheese-cakes and saffron-curds, and bottles
+of cool Nile water and also a flask or two of yellow Theban wine.
+Let us go into yonder cave and eat and drink together. When thou art
+refreshed, we will talk, or if thou wouldst--sleep!"
+
+And the movement of her lips in framing such words as "eat," "drink"
+and "together," had infinite allurement, but less than "refreshed"
+and "sleep." Her utterance of these bewitched and bewildered.
+Hazaël felt as one smothering in roses, or sinking in the embrace of
+perfumed arms upon a bosom smooth and cool as silk. And realising in
+a flash his desperate predicament:
+
+"O Lord my GOD!" he cried aloud, "look upon my shame and see my
+sorrow! From the evil impulse, from the evil companion: from Satan
+the Destroyer and from judgment, do Thou in Thy Mercy deliver me!"
+
+Whereupon the Princess Schabak with a burst of high, whinnying
+laughter, skipped backwards,--and nimbly as a mountain goat--leaped
+upon a ledge of rock jutting from the cliff-face high above the level
+of the astonished Israelite's head. At the same time the pannier in
+the cave fell over and burst open, disgorging a cataract of repulsive
+creatures; vipers with horns, chameleons with popping eyes, lizards,
+tarantulas, scorpions and huge brown bats,--which flying round and
+round in the dazzling sunshine beat about Hazaël's ears with their
+leathery, hooked wings and entangled themselves in his hair.
+Deafened, appalled, exhausted and choked with thirst, heat and
+stench, he fell down swooning,--fortunately for his reason!--within
+the shadow of the cave....
+
+When he revived, the rocky gorge was filled with the crimson of the
+sunset. The blazing heat had abated somewhat, the fresh smell of
+water came to his nostrils, and he groaned and opened his eyes. Then
+he cried out in thankfulness to God, Who had sent him water in his
+extremity,--for at the very back of the cave a thread of wet showed
+on the wall above a natural basin in the rock bordered with delicate
+black-stemmed green ferns, that contained a draught or two. As the
+cool liquid flowed down his dried throat; life revived in him newly.
+He ate of his bread, soaking it, and also took some dates.
+
+Then he found his staff, went up the pass, and squeezed through the
+narrow aperture. The path now became little more than a goat-walk
+upon the barren mountain's flank.
+
+A vast prospect spread about and beneath him, upon the right hand of
+the desert and the Nile beyond it:--with the islands, cities,
+gardens, palm-groves, temples; the distant cataracts, and the ranges
+of sandstone and syenite beyond the towns on the Libyan bank.
+Looking to the east his eye embraced Mount Serbal and the terrible
+splendour of Sinai, the Tih Mountains and Desert of Sin. Nearer, he
+looked down upon the Gulf of Heroöpolis,--the town at its mouth, and
+the city of Clysma upon the plain of the promontory, with the
+Wilderness of Etnam, and the Arabian Desert beyond.... North to
+Syria, bordered with the blue fillet of the Mediterranean, his glance
+ranged; and then with a cool breath fanning his brow, and stirring in
+the folds of his garments, he lifted up his eyes--and beheld the
+immense round summit of Mount Derhor, gleaming--white as though hoary
+with innumerable ages, touched with the fading rose of the sunset and
+crowned with the evening star. A vast tract of snow-white limestone,
+not level, but tilted at a steep angle, traversed with innumerable
+waved ridges, crevices and fissures and resembling a petrified
+cataract, spread between the traveller and the base of the stupendous
+dome. An irregular building, like a Pagan tomb or temple, partly in
+ruins, could be seen upon the dome's eastern side.
+
+Desolation. Not a grass-blade, not a bush, nor tuft of wormwood
+found nourishment enough to sustain life in all that arid region.
+Yet here the Athlete of Christ had lived since he quitted Tabenna;
+eating every third day of dried bread--of which a store was left for
+him at the oasis every six months--moistening the flint-hard cakes
+with water fetched from the spring in a heavy stone jar. When the
+water in the jar came to an end too soon, according to the monks of
+Tabenna and the Coptish boatmen, the Blessed One would eat the snow
+if it were winter; or gather the dew,--soaking it up with linen rags,
+or that porous fungus that much resembles sponge. And these he would
+suck, to quench the thirst that tormented him, nor would he, were
+this relief withheld, descend the mountain to fetch more water, until
+the arrival of the appointed day.
+
+Night fell. So close together and so deep were the fissures in the
+limestone, that Hazaël determined not to attempt to reach the
+hermitage until the rising of the moon. So he waited, seated upon a
+boulder; a strange, wild figure, dishevelled, scarred and bleeding;
+with battered weapons, and robes dusty and ragged; burning with
+impatience to do his errand and return to the oasis whilst strength
+remained to him....
+
+Suddenly the Mount from its base to its summit was girt with sheaves
+of towering flame of strange and marvellous colours. At the same
+moment a tumult broke forth of indescribable and hellish violence.
+Awful voices thundered opprobrium, or wakened the echoes of the
+precipices and chasms with shouts of hideous laughter, answered by
+other invisible beings from the fissures in the plain.
+
+"Filthy monk! Scourge of the desert! Master of wild asses! ...
+Preacher to lizards! ... Awaken! Rise and get you gone out of this
+place!" ...
+
+"Ah! ... Ah!" ... other unseen beings wailed in chorus: "Shall we
+never be rid of thee, thou Dweller on the Threshold? Begone! Depart
+from us! ... Were not the desolate places given to us, and the lands
+wherein no water flows?" ...
+
+A frightful voice bellowed:
+
+"Drive him forth! Assault him! Torment him with serpents! Worry
+him with jackals and wild dogs! Borrow the beaks and claws of
+eagles! Bid the lions devour him! Or if the wild creatures refuse,
+send against him from the Shrine of Pan another furious Satyr! ...
+Beleaguer him with phantoms in myriads of forms!"
+
+And dancing fires girt the dome, playing over the moveless waters of
+the stony cataract, and pale figures of wraith-like mistiness, and
+dark shapes of mountainous stature seemed to surround and hem it in.
+And suddenly these appearances sank down and vanished before the
+terror-stricken sight of Hazaël: with groans, and yells, and
+blasphemies that caused the hair to stiffen upon his head, and cold
+sweat to bathe his limbs.
+
+A flood of brilliance dazzled his eyes. From the violet-purple vault
+of the sky, in which the hosts of heaven were now gleaming, a ray of
+Light, of indescribable whiteness and luminosity descended, seeming
+to pierce the roof of the ruined temple beneath Derhor's giant dome.
+And Hazaël heard the sound of a harp masterfully played, and a man's
+deep voice singing:
+
+ "Let GOD arise!
+ And let His enemies be scattered.
+ And let all those who hate Him flee
+ Before Him!
+ Let them be destroyed
+ Even as smoke is made to disappear;
+ And as wax melteth before the fire--
+ Let the wicked perish
+ Before GOD!"
+
+
+When the psalm ceased the column of light faded into a mild bluish
+radiance that lingered still above the dwelling of the Saint. Such
+absolute stillness reigned that the sigh of the night-breeze, and the
+groan of a metal bolt in grooves of stone, came to Hazaël across the
+distance. A door swung inwards; a light--not supernatural, but that
+of a palm-torch,--shone across the threshold, and a voice, strong and
+mellow as that of a young man, cried down across the steep expanse of
+sinister shadows:
+
+"O man of Alexandria, seeking here a sinner!--draw near if you desire
+to, and do not be afraid!"
+
+Hearing, Hazaël rose from the rock he sat on, and cried back in a
+tone of wrath:
+
+"I am not afraid, O Athlete of Christ!--if it be you who speak to me!
+But wisdom counsels not to ascend this steep of perilous abysses--at
+least until the rising of the moon!"
+
+Before his voice had ceased to echo amongst the stony waves of the
+tilted sea of shadows, the strong melodious voice of the solitary
+called back:
+
+"The crevices are deep, and strange things abide in them!--and there
+is peril as you say. Yet if in the Name of the Crucified you struck
+out boldly among these solid waters, nothing of harm would come to
+you. For neither earthly dangers nor the malevolence of devils, have
+terrors for one armed with the Might of the Cross."
+
+Hazaël shouted back, with a dinning at his ear-drums:
+
+"The Eternal One, who brought the Chosen forth of this land of
+Egypt,--will guide me safely to thy door! For it is written that He
+does not forsake the righteous. Have I not in the strength of mine
+uprightness this day prevailed against a Succuba? Lo! before me the
+accursed demon fled, showing feet like the split hoofs of goats."
+
+The voice replied melodiously across the distance:
+
+"Blessed and glorified be He Who delivered thee! Glorified and
+blessed be Christ Jesus, His only begotten Son! Glorified and
+blessed be the Paraclete, the Comforter! Praised, blessed and
+magnified be the Holy Trinity, One in Three! Amen!"
+
+Panting with defiance Hazaël thundered:
+
+"The Lord is One! He is holy and His Name is holy, and the Holy Ones
+praise Him every day! Selah! Blessed art Thou, Jehovah, the Shield
+of Abraham! And blessed is he who even as Rabba Jehudah, called the
+righteous, can lift up both his hands to heaven, affirming that not
+one of the ten fingers upon them, is guilty of breaking the law of
+God!"
+
+He ceased, and the voice of the hermit answered, saying:
+
+"Nay!--but a thousand times more blessed is he, who,--not daring to
+lift a finger,--falls down prostrate before his Master, crying:
+'Lord, have mercy upon me a sinner!' For it is written that He
+pitieth the humble, and turns away His face from the arrogant."
+
+Now the moon, in her last quarter, rose from over the Red Sea. The
+limestone cataract, illuminated, took on a milky whiteness, in which
+the innumerable cracks and chasms showed like wavy bands of black.
+Hazaël grasped his staff and strode upwards, confident that within so
+many minutes he would be pounding at the ascetic's doors. But a dark
+cloud, not often seen save in the rainy season, suddenly veiled the
+lustre of the planet, and the Jew found himself standing in pitchy
+darkness, upon an ascending ridge between two deep chasms, unable to
+advance, or to retrace his steps.
+
+Suddenly a gust of wind rushed down a cleft in the mountains,
+dragging at Hazaël's garments as though with invisible hands. A
+jagged double flash of violet lightning followed. Dazzled, the Jew
+trod upon a pebble of limestone; fell--and still retaining his grip
+upon his staff, found himself sliding towards the brink of the abyss
+upon his left hand. A deafening peal of thunder preceded a flash
+still more vivid, which illuminated the depths beneath. With
+starting eyes Hazaël beheld at the bottom of the gulf--which seemed
+about to swallow him--the monstrous putrefying body of a creature
+part-human and part-animal. And the thought of tumbling down to
+wallow in the Satyr's corruption, and share one tomb with the
+shag-thighed offspring of unnatural and hideous lust, wrought on the
+brain of the man so that he shrieked in desperation:
+
+"Save me, O man of Christ!--I perish!"
+
+And heard the voice of the hermit answer calmly:
+
+"Man cannot save, but only Christ!"
+
+Upon which, as the lightning hissed and crackled about him like
+flights of spears steeped in burning pitch and naphtha, and feeling
+his strength about to fail, Hazaël groaned out:
+
+"Then pray to thy Christ to deliver me!"
+
+And hearing no answer out of the distance, he resigned himself to
+despair. But from some source unknown, strength suddenly flowed back
+into him. His brain cleared, and by a sudden muscular effort he was
+enabled to draw back his body, rise--and stand upon his feet....
+
+"Thanks,--thanks!" he stammered out, as though to the owner of some
+hand that had plucked him from peril. Then, in sudden anger, he dug
+his teeth into his lower lip.
+
+The storm had passed. The calm light of the moon irradiated the
+immovable cataract of limestone: the Jew traversed the remaining
+distance safely, and stood before the door of the recluse.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+The lotus stems of the pillars had been once crowned by the
+sculptured heads of long-eyed women. These had in course of ages, by
+some convulsion of Nature or by the hands of man, been broken off.
+Their shattered fragments lay scattered near, and the stone beams
+supporting the roof rested upon the stems crookedly. The door-lintel
+supported a slab still displaying the winged orb of Ammon Ra. But
+through the symbol of the Sun had been roughly but deeply chiselled
+the Sign of the Crucified.
+
+Hazaël knocked upon the heavy doors. Of massive cedar-wood
+strengthened with bronze plates, they would have resisted the assault
+of a catapult. The melodious voice said from within:
+
+"If thou that knockest art a being of the Pit, begone unto thy
+master, Satan! But if thou art a son of man, state thy business and
+be brief."
+
+And Hazaël cried:
+
+"I am no phantom of the Pit, but the man who but now spoke to thee!
+Verily, as the God of Israel liveth, I speak truth, and mean no harm!
+Now open the door, O Athlete of Christ!--for I have a message for
+thee. But first thou must give me water to drink, for my tongue is
+stiff with thirst."
+
+Upon which the voice said from within:
+
+"Upon the threshold at thy feet in a wooden bowl, is water."
+
+Hazaël groped with his hands, for the shadow of the wide lintel
+shrouded the portal in blackness; found the bowl, full to the brim;
+gave thanks, and swallowed the contents at one long draught. The
+Athlete's voice spoke again as the Jew replaced the empty bowl,
+inverted, on the threshold:
+
+"Jew of Alexandria, it had been wiser to have saved some of the
+water. For until the sun sets again, in fulfilment of my Rule which
+I have taken on me, I neither open the cell door; nor--unless in
+prayer to God--or in holy songs glorifying Him, or in prophecies
+inspired of Him--utter one single word, unless He bids!"
+
+With a fierce surge of anger, overpowering his previous sensations of
+awe, Hazaël struck his fist upon the solid cedar. He kicked it with
+his heavy boots of hippo-hide, and beat upon it with his metal-shod
+staff. No sound issued from within, in answer to entreaties or
+objurgations. Worn out at length, the Jew sat down upon the
+threshold. But then the suspicion budded that there might be a
+rearward door of egress, and he dragged himself to his feet and made
+the circuit of the place.
+
+In vain his toil. No opening presented itself, except a chink one
+might barely have thrust a hand through.... Stooping and looking
+through this orifice he obtained a glimpse of the interior of the
+dwelling, which was filled with a pale, bluish light.
+
+By this light could be distinguished the figure of the aged Christian
+ascetic, tall, and so emaciated by fasting and watching as to
+resemble a skeleton clothed with brown skin. A coarse white cloth
+which formed his outdoor habit had been laid aside, and clad only in
+a sleeveless vest of haircloth, he stood bolt upright, with joined
+uplifted hands, and eyes closed in recollection, in a stone niche
+built on the left side of the door of the cell; which contained
+nothing further beyond a mat of woven palm-leaves, a stone water-pot
+lying on its side empty, and a sickle, possibly used by its owner for
+cutting leaves and reeds.
+
+There was something so grand and imposing about the venerable figure,
+with its white hair hanging upon its shoulders like a mantle, and its
+snowy beard reaching far below the waist, that violent words seemed
+profanation, and Hazaël remained dumb. The impulse to depart without
+delay was urgent, when on drawing back his head and standing erect,
+he became aware that the mysterious ray of celestial radiance, sign
+of the intimate and wonderful communion between this pure and fiery
+soul and the Divine Spirit from Whom all souls have emanated, had
+again descended from the heavens upon the dwelling of the Saint.
+Venturing again to look in, he found the cell irradiated, and felt a
+mysterious shock traverse him; realising that the eyes of the Saint
+had opened, and were gazing upon him from their ambush of white
+hairs. And they were the fiery eyes of a lion, and the radiant eyes
+of a child, and the eyes of a man who has seen and talked with
+Angels, so that it was not possible to support unmoved their
+scrutiny. Yet they were mild, kind and beneficent; and meeting the
+eyes that peered at him through the aperture, the old man thrice
+nodded his head. As who should say:
+
+"Although my Rule prohibits me from speaking, it does not forbid me
+to listen. Say what is in thy mind, and return to the dwellings of
+men!"
+
+And Hazaël cried to the anchorite through the wallhole:
+
+"O Athlete of Christ!--I am a Jew, and from the bottom of my soul I
+hate and loathe the Christians, but thou art a just and virtuous man!
+Now hear my tale!"
+
+The ascetic nodded as though replying:
+
+"Say on, thou hater of Christians! but be not over tedious. For all
+my time I need for prayer."
+
+And Hazaël cried:
+
+"Listen then! My youth was spent at the town of Acanthon on Lower
+Nile, my father being a Rab, an interpreter of the Scriptures, and a
+pleader before the Courts. Small was his wealth, yet great his name,
+being descended in the male line from Ben-Hadad, King of Damascus,
+and in his veins on the female side flowed the Royal Blood of Israel.
+And one day he was carried home to our house dead!--having been
+struck upon the forehead by a beam of cedar carried through the
+Lentil Market on the back of a camel led by a Copt. And the
+bystanders told me concerning the Copt;--that seeing my father fallen
+and the blood from the wound covering his head, the camel-driver
+mocked him, crying: 'Which wouldst thou rather have, O Rab? The beam
+thou hast in thine eye now, or a mote? Answer!' And child as I was,
+I took an oath to be revenged for that man's hard-heartedness on all
+Christians. And to this day I have faithfully kept that oath."
+
+He paused for breath and the recluse now answered:
+
+"I know it, O Hazaël! Thou hast been a very scourge of Satan to the
+Servants of the Lord!"
+
+And Hazaël cried back:
+
+"Hear again, O Athlete of Christ! My mother married again, and my
+step-father was cruel, and I fled from the beatings and the evil
+words, to Alexandria. Awhile I hung about the quays, living on stray
+scraps thrown me there, and in the Jews Quarter, and then I met a
+noble man, a Roman in the Public Service,--who took me into his
+household, and fed and sheltered me. I grew up under his roof, and
+presently became his steward, and zealously I served him, using my
+power when I might, to keep that oath of mine. And knowing not that
+my patron had secretly become a Christian,--I brought upon him Ruin,
+Dishonour, Imprisonment and Death. Dost thou hear?"
+
+The hermit returned mildly:
+
+"Unhappy man, I hear thee. Thine excuse must be, thou hadst no
+thought of evil towards thy friend!"
+
+"No thought, God He knows! And whether my patron suspected the
+truth, that I know not. But to the very last--he loved and trusted
+me! And when he had suffered the penalty of decapitation for his
+faith--torture being spared him in consideration of great services
+rendered to the Empire,--I stole his body secretly under cover of
+night. In the crypt of a deserted church it was reverently burned to
+ashes. These I placed in an urn--and swore an oath upon the urn in
+the name of the God of Israel,--that I and my sons and my sons'
+sons,--while there remains a living male of the blood of Hazaël--will
+be Keeper of the Ashes and Guardians of their Shrine! And I from the
+Abode of Shadows, the Lord Most High permitting!--will stretch forth
+mine hand upon those that descend from me--and counsel them aright!
+And when the last male of the race hath served and passed,--the debt
+shall be paid--and I cleansed of blood-guilt towards the man who was
+my friend!"
+
+"The prayer being made from a repentant heart, hath reached the
+Throne of the Highest. Is that all thou hast to say, O Jew?"
+
+Hazaël cried angrily to the anchorite through the wall-hole:
+
+"Not so! For I have taken this journey to bring thee a message from
+my master, the noble Philoremus Fabius, late Prætor of the Taxes of
+Egypt at Alexandria, who is now amongst the Shades."
+
+From the tangled ambush of his snow-white hair, fixing his radiant
+eyes upon the fierce eyes glaring through the wall-hole, the Athlete
+of Christ demanded:
+
+"Was the man baptised a Christian?"
+
+Hazaël answered roughly:
+
+"Have I not said to thee but now,--that without having formally
+embraced the Faith of the Crucified, or received the waters of
+baptism,--Philoremus testified to Christianity, and suffered the
+penalty. Melittus, Abbot of Scete, Peter, the Patriarch of
+Alexandria, the monks Philip, Ammon and Geta, Theodore and Pæsius and
+others, underwent death by torture on the same day. In consideration
+of his great services to Rome, Philoremus suffered only decapitation
+by the sword. And I am commanded of him to entreat thee to pray that
+his sins may be forgiven. And that for him the Hand that was pierced
+may open the Gate of Hope! Dost thou comprehend? Hast thou heard
+distinctly?"
+
+The head of the Saint inclined in assent.
+
+"And--thou wilt pray as he desired?"
+
+"Ay, if thou consent to forgive the Copt who slew the Rab thy father
+many years ago. For I declare to thee by the light that is
+vouchsafed me, that the blow from the beam was given unwittingly; and
+those who told thee that the man mocked, lied. And cease from saying
+and working evil against the Church of Christ. For dear to the Lord
+are His servants!"
+
+And the Jew, struggling with himself, promised; and then cried:
+
+"Tell me, O holy man! what is this Gate of Hope? ... Shall my master
+be admitted? ... Or--hath he already entered therein? ... I know that
+thou hast power to vanquish devils, and canst see beyond the Three
+Veils that baffle human vision. Therefore, answer me, I pray!"
+
+The aged hands stiffened in the attitude of supplication. The eyes
+of the Saint looked upwards, seeming to pierce through the roof of
+stone, from which great bats hung in clusters, into Infinite
+Immensity. Moments passed and Hazaël waited. But when an hour had
+gone by:
+
+"Wilt thou not speak?" he cried angrily.
+
+There was no answer. Looking more narrowly he could not observe that
+the breast of the rigid upright figure lifted or sank with the
+natural act of respiration. He found himself shuddering with terror
+lest the anchorite should be dead. The weight of vast solitudes
+peopled only by eagles, bats and diabolical phantoms descended upon
+him crushingly. And in the voice of a suppliant he entreated:
+
+"In the name of the Most High, give me a sign that thou livest!"
+
+The hands fell apart. The upturned eyes quivered. A long sigh
+heaved the wide emaciated chest, and the great prominent ribs of the
+fleshless brown body, tenanted by the fiery soul of the great Athlete
+of Christ. Without otherwise stirring he reached down, seized a
+small harp from its place in the niche behind him, poised it upon his
+breast, swept the strings with his fleshless hands; and chanted in
+the powerfully melodious voice that had thundered upon the ears of
+the Jew down the cataract of limestone:
+
+ "Not through the wisdom of strange words:
+ Not by the power of incantations
+ Have the children of Christ acquired the Mystery of Life.
+ Nay! but by the power of Faith
+ Given to us by God,
+ Who is the Lord and Master of all!
+
+ Faith is the Sign of Love
+ In the Soul made perfect.
+ The wisdom of the heathen
+ Is naught but words!
+ Where is divination?
+ Where the magicians who were of Egypt?
+ Where are the phantoms of the errors of the Sorcerers?
+
+ Perished, broken, cast down and destroyed!
+ Despised and contemned utterly
+ Wherever the glorious Cross of Christ our Saviour
+ Hath been upraised!
+ O Tree of Victory!
+ Triumphant throughout all the earth:
+ Through thee doth chastity flourish
+ And Virginity shed its light abroad!
+
+ Rejoice, ye martyrs!
+ By whom death has been despised
+ Because of the victory
+ Of the conquering Cross!
+ Sing, ye innumerable congregations
+ Where is divination?
+ Of virgins, male and female,
+ Who preserve your bodies in holiness
+ By the Power of the Cross!
+
+ O Gate of Hope!
+ Carved in the Living Rock by the spear of the Roman!
+ O Precious Blood
+ Of Him Who was Crucified!
+ O living Waters!
+ Mingled in the Chalice of the Sacrifice--
+ For the regeneration and cleansing of souls!
+ O little pain!
+ O despicable torture!
+ O paltry ordeal
+ That Christ's athletes endure,
+ Compared with His--
+ Who in His Body
+ Suffered for the sins
+ Of the whole world!
+
+ O great reward!
+ Inestimable recompense,
+ O crown of Victory!
+ Triumphant palms!
+ Entreat for me, ye legions of martyrs--
+ Supplicate for me, ye myriads of Confessors--
+ That like Phileas, Bishop of Thmuis--
+ Like Melittus, Abbot of Scete--
+ Like Peter, Patriarch of Alexandria--
+ Like Faustus the Presbyter, Rachobius and Eodoras--
+ Like Theodore, Ammon, Philip and Geta--
+ Like Paesius and Philoremus Fabius--
+ And like the Jew Hazaël--
+ (Who, rejecting the Gospel of JESUS
+ Yet shall perish at the hands of idolaters
+ For the upholding of His Honour)
+ Even I,
+ Littlest among Christ's servants--
+ May enter in at the Gate of Hope
+ And drink of the new-pressed wine of Paradise!"
+
+
+The singer ceased as dawn whitened the eastern sky, and the dome of
+Mount Derhor was reddened by the first rays of the sun. The harp,
+clutched in his rigid hands, still vibrated with the last chords
+struck upon it. But the Saint was once more rapt in contemplation,
+from which neither appeals nor threats could rouse him. Boiling with
+indignation at what he had heard, Hazaël shook the dust from his
+garments, and set off with rapid strides down the crevassed limestone
+slope.
+
+He returned by the path round the shoulder of the precipice, and
+through the narrow cleft into the pass where he had suffered
+temptation of the demon; found some water yet remaining in the cave's
+tiny hollow, and, eating his last dates as he went, emerged at length
+from the porphyry ravine upon the desert plain upon whose burning
+soil he had discovered the charger of gold, saying to himself:
+
+"I will hurry forward to the oasis of the spring,--fasten the camel
+to a tree there, and bring the Saracen back to assist me. It cannot
+be meant that so much treasure should be abandoned to serve no useful
+end! It should realise when sold, at least ten thousand talents.
+Half of this money belongs to the Athlete, seeing that his dwelling
+is in the mountain. With the rest I shall enrich myself, and return
+with my household to Palestine!"
+
+But when he arrived once more in sight of the spot where he had found
+the treasure, he found there, gathered about it, a horde of savage
+Blemmyes from the Red Sea wilderness, who periodically penetrated the
+fastnesses of Derhor by some of the eastern defiles. Enraged at
+seeing these naked, painted heathens hoisting the mass of gold upon
+their shoulders, amidst shrill ululations of joy from the fierce,
+hawk-eyed women who accompanied them, the Jew swung his great staff
+high, shouting:
+
+"Restore the spoil that another found before you, ye abominable
+ones!" and charged the Blemmyes, scattering them with tremendous
+blows.
+
+But the savage idolaters only dispersed like jackals or vultures
+scared from a carcass, to gather again at a distance; and from thence
+discharged stones from their slings so skilfully that Hazaël was
+wounded and beaten to the ground. Then overpowering him, the
+barbarians strongly bound his wrists and ankles, and drawing them
+apart, secured each limb to a stake, driven deep into the soil.
+
+Then, concluding that all men returning from the Inner Mountain must
+needs be Christian pilgrims, the chief of the band set his foot upon
+the breast of the Israelite and--speaking in bastard Greek--and
+brandishing his spear with menacing gestures--commanded him forthwith
+to blaspheme Christ, and abjure the Faith--or die amidst tortures
+unspeakable.
+
+Upon which Hazaël shouted furiously:
+
+"You ignorant rabble! I am a devout Jew, and will never accept the
+Nazarite Prophet as Messiah! and I have even brought persecution upon
+those who worship Him! Nevertheless, for love of Him my master
+Philoremus Fabius suffered death at Alexandria, and in His name the
+Saint of Derhor performs marvellous works. And I have sworn before
+the God of my fathers henceforth to abstain from speaking or doing
+evil against Christ's servants: yet I am not a Christian, and never
+will be!"
+
+But the Blemmyes clustered about him like bees, stinging and pricking
+him with their sharp spear-points, and the savage women, reaching
+between the legs of the men, prodded him with thorns and tore his
+flesh with sharpened stones, so that there was not a whole patch upon
+his body, that was all gory red from head to foot. And they jabbered
+at him to blaspheme, urging incessantly:
+
+"Execrate Christ and thou art free!"
+
+He whom they tortured shouting lustily:
+
+"Ye vultures of the Desert, I will not!"
+
+Then, failing to work their will, they made upon his body a fire of
+dried camel's dung, and took the gold and went away.
+
+While to the tortured Jew, dying amidst horrible agonies, it seemed
+that he saw his master Philoremus, joyful and smiling, standing near
+a Young Man apparelled in white, and of sublime and radiant visage,
+who extended towards the sufferer His beautiful wounded Hands....
+And amidst a great Light and many voices, One Voice spoke, saying
+words inconceivably wonderful.... And the bands of mortality were
+peeled from Hazaël's vision, and his spirit passed beyond the Veil of
+the Unknown.
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+In the same hour the Abbot Pachomius at Tabenna, being in prayer at
+the conclusion of the morning Sacrifice, received a revelation and
+cried out:
+
+"Lord! do Thou multiply Thy mercies upon the Jew Hazaël Hazaël, who
+rejecting the Gospel of the New Testament, hath yet died for Thee!"
+
+And sending a messenger to the quayside where the faithful Ephraim
+waited aboard the vessel with the Coptish sailors, the Abbot warned
+the servant of Hazaël that evil had come to him.... Then Ephraim
+went forth into the desert with a strong party of armed Saracens on
+swift camels, and traversing the Valley of the Chariots, and climbing
+the pass north of the oasis of the spring, reached the place where
+the Blemmyes had put the Jew to death. The head, limbs and
+extremities, though scorched and shrivelled, remained unconsumed.
+The charred trunk had burst asunder, and within the hoops of the
+great blackened ribs, the indomitable heart of the just steward lay
+amidst grey ashes; all red, like a newly-quenched coal. Upon one of
+the dried-up hands hung a tarnished signet-ring that the Blemmyes had
+not noticed,--or had feared to meddle with, lest it might be a
+talisman.
+
+It was the signet with the black onyx, given by the Roman Philoremus
+Fabius to Hazaël.... And Ephraim, taking the ring from the dead
+hand, scraped a shallow grave in the hot sandy gravel; buried the
+remains, and made above the spot a great pile of stones.
+
+Then he journeyed back to Alexandria, carrying the news and the ring,
+and goods of Hazaël; and Miriam and little Leah wept sorely; and the
+boy Levi said Kaddish for the dead.
+
+
+
+
+_Book the Second:_ THE SENDING
+
+
+
+I
+
+John Benn Hazel lived with his mother, and Maurice, his younger
+brother, at Campden Hill Terrace. Mrs. Hazel was a widow of long
+standing; well-to-do, well-preserved, well-powdered, dyed and
+corseted, and experienced in the ways of the world. Formerly, as she
+admitted, "a frightful flirt," she was still prone to recurrent
+attacks of the milder kind of friskiness. Of her two sons, she was
+chiefly mother to the more gifted Maurice--an illustrator of books of
+the exotic, precious, subtle type--and periodicals of the same pale
+cerulean hue. Before the War Maurice possessed a Marcelle wave and a
+Beardsley Line--both attained by infinite perseverance. Later he
+acquired the certificate of a Pilot-Aviator, and flew a Handley-Page
+bomber on the Western Front.
+
+Mother and sons agreed marvellously, unless when one of Mrs. Hazel's
+elderly adorers, persons of ripe years and desirable financial
+solidity, endeavoured to persuade her to forsake her widowed state.
+The most favoured of these was a certain Mr. Herman Van Ost, London
+partner and representative of a thriving and long-established firm of
+Dutch bulb-merchants. As a stepfather John Hazel would have regarded
+the Dutchman with more or less placidity. But Maurice found the idea
+intolerable, and thus the bulb of Van Ost's hopes remained in the
+shop window; showing a pale green spike at intervals, in earnest of
+latent possibilities in the flowering line,--but never achieving more.
+
+All three Hazels were members of the same mixed Club,--(who does not
+know "The Tubs" in Werkeley Street, W.)--and firmly believed the
+Parish of St. James's the hub of the civilised world. All three were
+ardent votaries of Bridge; all yearned to be admitted into the inner
+circles of Society, but were content to grasp at the outer fringe.
+All three adored Russian Ballet, Musical Comedy, Film Plays and
+up-to-date Revues. Each revelled in the Tango and thought no fashion
+in modes, colours, coiffures, furniture, manners and morals, so quite
+too frightfully fetching as the last. They were of sport, sporting;
+but their talk turned chiefly upon things of the theatre theatrical;
+and they always knew to a thousand how much the last Big Production
+had cost the Syndicate running such-and-such a West End house.
+
+Sometimes they disagreed as to the exact weight of the gloves worn by
+the French pugilistic champion, and So-and-so, the hope of
+England--in their classical contest at the Punching Club; or as to
+the precise source whence Didi Debée obtained her celebrated strings
+of pearls, or grew warm over the rival merits of famous exponents of
+the Tango; or contradicted one another touching the precise terms in
+which Betty Ballorme had notified the Duke of Blankshire that a less
+economical nobleman would be more welcome in her flat. But if they
+quarrelled they made friends again over some more recent item of
+gossip. Jimmy Greggson had got a new gag, or a fresh wheeze in the
+Second Act of "The Filberts" at Riley's Theatre, just before the
+famous 'Dance of The Varalette.' Or a new supper-dish or a fresh
+dance-step would have appeared upon the menu of some eclectic
+restaurant cum-night-club, run by managers who catered for every
+variety of taste.
+
+It will be seen that the sons of Mrs. Hazel were happy in their
+parent, whose business gift was not to be despised. In partnership
+with a peeress of somewhat clouded reputation she ran a millinery and
+flower-shop at a double frontage in Dove Street, Piccadilly: adding
+to her annual life-interest on her late husband's not inconsiderable
+fortune, a really handsome sum.
+
+Probably her elder son inherited Mrs. Hazel's business aptitude
+though such a legacy is more usually held to be derived from the
+paternal side. The product of one of the lesser public schools
+(Loamborough may be quoted) and graduate of Brazingham University, he
+decided that it was possible to do Big Things without a string of
+piffling letters tacked on to your name. So, the City of London
+happening to beckon at that juncture, he leaped gladly to her grimy
+embrace, and his thirty-second birthday, occurring on the third of
+July, 1914, found him formally received and accredited as Junior
+Partner in the thriving firm of Dannahill, Lee-Levyson and Hazel,
+insurance-brokers of Cornhill. He was engaged to Beryl Lee-Levyson.
+He looked forward--under the summer sky fast blackening with fearful
+presages of tempest--not exactly with rapture, but with content--to
+their approaching marriage; a house in Eaton Terrace, S.W.,--Eaton
+Square being the address of the Lee-Levysons--having been inspected
+and approved, a week before the gates of Terror opened and the world
+grew pale with dread. In that first fierce spate of blood the elder
+son of Lee-Levyson, a promising young lieutenant in a crack Hussar
+regiment, was overwhelmed and swept away. The favourite grandson of
+Dannahill, Head of the Firm, a Sergeant in a London Territorial
+Regiment, later rendered distinguished service, and died gloriously
+on the thirteenth day of the First Battle of the Aisne. That
+September evening John Hazel got home to Campden Hill unusually late
+for dinner, bringing with him a clumsy parcel which contained:
+
+_Item_: one coat highly polished at the elbows, kept for office
+night-work.
+
+_Item_: a silver inkstand, a birthday present, inscribed: "_From S.
+and M.H._" (Sara and Maurice Hazel) "_to J.B.H., July 6th, 1914._"
+
+Item: a tinted photograph of Beryl Lee-Levyson, a tall, willowy young
+woman in narrow diaphanous garments, with tightly-banded hair of pale
+gold, a bluish-pink complexion, a straight nose with a ripple in the
+bridge, large and well-opened light grey eyes, and the kind of smile
+that advertises an excellent set of teeth. It bore the inscription:
+
+ "_From Girlie, with Love to Her Best Boy._"
+
+
+A box of cigars, a silver cigarette box, some well-browned meerschaum
+holders, and a burned briar-root pipe, completed the inventory of the
+property contained in the shapeless parcel which John Hazel lugged up
+to his room, and dumped upon his bed.
+
+"What are these things?" asked his mother, coming in to tell John not
+to wait to dress, as she and Maury were going to look in at Riley's
+to see the 'Dance of the Varalette' once again before Jimmy Greggson
+went to the Front....
+
+"Of course; good old Jimmy's a London Terrier! ... Did you ask about
+those? ..." said John, who stood at the looking-glass in
+shirt-sleeves, brushing his coarse strong curly hair with two big
+ivory-backed brushes, and meeting the maternal eyes in the mirror
+with something not unlike a scowl. All the principles instilled at
+Loamborough, by dint of many poundings, forbade him to embrace his
+mother and weep; yet strange wild impulses urged him to commit this
+sin against the Code of Correct British behaviour. He went on,
+looking at her in the glass, deepening his scowl and speaking
+gruffly: "They'd be frightfully in the way at the office.... I
+rather thought you'd look after them until I get back from the Front!"
+
+There was a moment's pregnant silence in the room, while Mrs. Hazel
+with a wildly thumping heart, was realising how awfully she had
+dreaded that it would be Maurice who would have to go! ... Then she
+rustled over to John's side, reached up on tiptoe, though she was a
+tall woman, and giving him two little pecking kisses on the angle of
+his blue-shaven brown jaw, murmured something about getting up some
+champagne to-night to make up for the tinned _entrées_ at dinner, and
+rustled out of the room--John knew--to tell the news downstairs.
+
+"What? Old J. going? ... Good for him!" was Maurice's
+languidly-approving comment on the intelligence.
+
+Nobody grumbled, though John did delay to change, and came down
+arrayed in the gladdest rags his well-supplied wardrobe boasted, to
+tell his mother and Maurice of Sam Dannahill's glorious death. Such
+a frightful knock for the Firm, coming on the heels of the bad news
+about Beauchamp Lee-Levyson!--and how the Boss had taken the grim
+wire from the War Office "like a regular First Class Old Brick."
+
+Ah, if in that bad quarter of an hour succeeding the opening of the
+telegram John could have looked through the fortunately opaque glass
+of the door with "Senior Partner" painted on it,--he would have seen
+no dignified white-haired City Insurance-broker, telling with a dry
+eye but a trembling lip how bravely Sam had died! but a frantic old
+grandsire, tearing his hair and beard, and crying even as David in
+the high gate-chamber: "My child!--my hope and comfort! O if it had
+been granted that I might die for thee, my boy, my beloved one!"
+
+Pray observe John Benn Hazel, standing on the Daghestani hearthrug,
+with his back to the fern-filled fireplace in the Briton's customary
+style.
+
+You saw him as a broad-shouldered, lean-flanked, deep-chested young
+man of thirty-two, six feet three in his stockings and
+proportionately powerful. His huge frame of bone, knit with solid
+muscle, was sparingly padded with tough hard flesh, covered with
+dull, dry brown skin that looked as though it needed to be soaked in
+blazing sunshine to become sleek and soft. Coarse, wiry, curly hair,
+densely black as the broad beetling brows and the deep-set eyes under
+them, closely capped his high dome-topped skull, and grew low upon
+his forehead,--tinged with blue where it was most closely clipped on
+the temples and about the ears,--and at the nape of the long thick
+neck, that needed the razor's frequent application even as the strong
+jaws, the long, deeply-channelled upper-lip, and the chin, quite
+abnormally long, with a dent in its squared end. His was a huge
+salient nose, thick and boldly curved, with mobile nostrils; and a
+large, rather loose-lipped mouth, purplish-red and frankly sensual,
+with a quirk of humour at the deeply-cut corners, and displaying a
+formidable array of big white teeth when he laughed. His large,
+well-shaped ears did not lie sufficiently close to his head for
+beauty, and the prominent Adam's apple of his muscular brown throat
+was the despair of City collar-makers; while no glove that hosier
+ever supplied could be got to button over his great wrist,--the joint
+of the ulna, Maurice bragged,--being as big as a pony's pastern. His
+feet were huge and clumsy as his hands, a fact too well known of Mrs.
+Hazel's Pomeranian. His excellent opinion of himself was much
+evident when he talked in his loud, deep, booming voice, or laughed
+at jokes of his own manufacture, which appealed to him more than
+others. When his sense of humour was really touched, his guffaw was
+an outrage on the nerves of other people, and fragile articles within
+reach of his lengthy arms were wont to be swept from shelves or
+stands. But Maurice was not driven to put his fingers in his ears,
+on this particular evening; nor was Mrs. Hazel to glance even once in
+apprehension at her Dresden china shepherdesses simpering on the
+mantel-shelf.
+
+She came into John's room again that night, long after they had
+parted, with an excuse about being anxious to make sure,--in case he
+should not yet have switched off the electric lights,--that his
+blinds were closely drawn down behind the open windows, and the new
+curtains of green casement-cloth properly closed. The police had
+warned householders all along the Terrace. Not in the least
+deceived, John sat up in bed, looming bigly in a blatant suit of
+pink-striped silk pyjamas, conscious that upon his pillow was a big
+wet patch of which a Briton's hardy eyes ought to have been ashamed.
+The mother looked absurdly young, it seemed to her son,--with her
+still abundant auburn hair, as yet only lightly crisped with
+grey,--hanging in a thick loose plait down the back of her pale blue
+_crêpe_ dressing-gown, as she retreated from the window,--to examine
+the War-arrangements of which she had had to switch on the
+light:--pecked him again--upon his forehead this time--and said with
+elaborate casualness:
+
+"You told us--among other amusing things--to-night at supper"--John
+was pleased to find that he had been amusing--"about the papers you
+had had to fill at the Army Recruiting place." ...
+
+"Saying how old I am, and where I was born,--and what my father's
+nationality was--and what my religion is," John told her with a
+cheerful grin: adding as she lingered, apparently in expectation:
+"But the really funny things--regular howlers!--were on the spoiled
+papers lying about." His big body shook with a chuckle that was not
+genuine.
+
+"Never mind the funny things just now! How did you answer that
+question about your father? ... What nationality did you say his
+was?" Her blue-grey eyes, still brilliant and effective, sparkled
+feverishly under knitted eyebrows. Her voice was sharp and strained,
+in the ears of her son. He answered with a dull flush darkening his
+heavy features:
+
+"I said he was British. Isn't that good enough?" He added as he
+hugged his great bony knees, and stared over their barrier at the
+worried face of his mother: "You don't suppose I'd be ass enough to
+make a false declaration, even though the Pater's governor happens to
+be a Palestine Jew! Is the old chap still alive, by the way? If so,
+he must be getting on for a hundred!"
+
+"He was sixty-nine when I saw him at Malta thirty years ago, and
+taller and broader than any of his sons--as upright as a column.
+You've a look of him--there are times when I see it!--but you take
+after your father more! ..."
+
+"At any rate my father was naturalised an Englishman, and Hazel
+sounds English enough," said John.
+
+"Yes--oh, yes!"
+
+As she drummed on the foot-rail of the bedstead, imparting a rather
+unpleasant vibration to the tautened nerves of her elder son, John
+coughed a deep hollow cough to cover his embarrassment, and said
+gruffly;
+
+"What's the matter with your telling me about my father and his
+people? I've never asked before, but I think I'd better know!"
+
+"His first name was John, like yours, but the name is really Hazaël.
+The Hazaëls were wealthy merchants, exporters of produce from the
+Mediterranean Coast--and wines--chiefly from vineyards of their own."
+
+"That stuff I've seen advertised--Palestine Port, Tokay and
+Muscatel,--sound and nourishing, twenty-five years old?"
+
+"It's very good--and your father has often told me that even before
+the Colonies were founded in 1827,--when I've heard there were only
+ten Jews at Jaffa--his father's father's great grandfather was a
+vine-grower and exporter of wine. The business originally started in
+Egypt--they have a business house to-day at Alexandria--and another
+at Jaffa and a branch at Malta--where your father and I first met."
+
+"Stop! ... What about you?"
+
+"Me.... Oh--well! I was sixteen, and frightfully romantic, and
+supposed to be going in for what people called 'a decline.' ...
+Anæmia would be the proper name for it in these days: and Hull, where
+your grandfather had his place of business, was cold and gloomy; and
+Malta was supposed to be the cure.... I loved Malta! What girl
+wouldn't? All sunshine and flowery gardens, and violet sea, and
+turquoise skies. And all the fruit and' flowers one wanted--and a
+handsome man to squire one about! For your father was quite
+charming. He spoke beautiful English, and French like a native; he
+had been educated at Paris, they said, and when my father told me of
+John's intentions, I was ready to jump over the moon!"
+
+She broke off, and John roused himself to say:
+
+"Anyway, if the Pater was a Syrian Jew, your governor was British
+enough! ... Of course I never saw him, as the old man was dead and
+buried before we went to live with my grandmother. But Symons does
+sound like a good old English name!"
+
+"That's why your grandmother persuaded your grandfather to adopt it.
+His real name was Simonoff, and she never liked it! She was a
+Yorkshire Isaacson!"
+
+There was a pregnant silence before John asked in muffled accents:
+
+"Was my grandfather on your side a Russian?" and was clubbed by the
+reply:
+
+"He was a Russian Jew from Moscow."
+
+"Oh, come! Don't rub it in!" The bedstead creaked protestingly.
+
+"Dearie, you must have guessed! You've always known that he did
+business in hides and tallow and tar, between Hamburg and Hull."
+
+"I remember Hull when I was a kid, and the warehouse, and Old Mendel,
+who used to bring me peppermint-rock when he came to see my
+grandmother. He managed the business for her, didn't he, until my
+Uncle Ben took it over? But--my grandfather a Russian Jew! Let's
+bless our stars he wasn't a German! Where were you married to my
+father?"
+
+"In a Maltese Synagogue. We lived at Malta until your father brought
+us to England, to establish a business-branch at Southampton. And we
+had hardly been settled there a year--you were only three when John
+died.... Pneumonia--this climate never really suited him! And I
+went home to mother with you and Maury, a baby of six months old.
+There was no bother about money. You know your father left us
+comfortably off!"
+
+John cleared his throat and nodded. The bitterness of the last pill
+Fate had administered puckered his palate yet. Between the Jew of
+Palestine and the Jew of Russia, he had been wrought all Jewish. Not
+a single globule of British blood mingled with the Oriental tide that
+galloped through his veins. He asked, not wanting to know
+particularly:
+
+"Did my father's people drop you, after he died, or was it you who
+decided to drop them?"
+
+His mother returned with a sprightlier air--she was now sitting on
+the bedside.
+
+"Oh!--well!--it was like this. While John was alive, his father, old
+Mr. Hazaël, sent me kind messages very often in his letters,--always
+written to John in Hebrew, by Amos the eldest son. For John came
+third in the family. Amos and Isaac had been years married and had
+heaps of children before John met with me. And after John died and
+we went to live at Hull, the letters kept on coming. It was my
+father's head-clerk who always translated them--Old Mendel was a
+learned man!--and wrote back the answers I dictated. Then my father
+died--poor father!--he never could forgive me for being only a
+daughter!--and Cousin Ben took the business over--and mother and I,
+with you and Maury--came here to London to live. Do you think I did
+wrong in dropping the correspondence? You know how your father's
+fortune was settled on you two children, with a life-interest for me;
+we need not go into that! There was nothing more to come to
+us--under any circumstances! And I wanted my two boys to be brought
+up as English gentlemen, and I don't think I've done quite so
+badly--do you?"
+
+Her tone was almost pleading. John reached out a lengthy arm and
+hugged his mother warmly:
+
+"Not by half, Old Thing! On the contrary. You thought it would be
+best for me and Maury to be British, and you rubbed it into us that
+we were, from the time we began to talk.... I remember at
+Loamborough, a Fifth Form fellow said to me over some rotten boggle
+of mine at Sunday Ques: 'With that bally big nose of yours, Hazel
+major, you ought to know all about the Children of Israel--' And, by
+George! I welted the beggar until he apologised. Later on, when I
+knew more about the Pater, I told myself that the English strain came
+from the mother's side. Now you've exploded that idea; I don't know
+that I mind much! ... Lots of people we're friendly with are as much
+Hebrews as ourselves,--and taking us in the lump, I call us a loyal
+lot!" He dug his long chin into the bedclothes covering the big
+knees he hugged; and went on speaking: "And Jewish blood is strong
+red stuff to have in one's veins, mind you! Great lawyers, great
+financiers, great actors, singers, painters, writers--people who are
+things and do things!--people who count--how many of them have got
+it!--in bulk or else diluted. And some of the prettiest women--and
+girls--"
+
+"You're thinking of Beryl!"
+
+"Well, I was thinking of Beryl...--Lee Levyson may belong to a
+Yorkshire family. He says so, and I've no wish to contradict him.
+And Dannahill blows a frightful lot about his good old English
+ancestors. But all the same--" He broke off to smile at his mother,
+who,--not as a rule demonstrative towards her elder son,--was
+stroking his big wrist, and half-absently trying to span it with the
+inadequate measure of her thumb and middle-finger; and ended: "You
+can take it from me that there ain't a single member of the Firm who
+oughtn't--if the truth were worth telling--to have a capital 'J' on
+his disc."
+
+"His disc?"
+
+"Well, I was speaking metaphorically. I mean the round tin
+identification-tag that's sewn inside of Tommy's khaki jacket, and
+worn on a chain soldered round his wrist when he's going to the
+Front. Mine'll be 'Private J.B. Hazel, No. 000, X Platoon, F.
+Company, 4th Battalion, 448th City of London (Fenchurch Street) Royal
+Fusiliers.'"
+
+"Do they put all that?"
+
+"I rather think so, with letters for your religious denomination.
+Con. for Congregationalist, Wes. for Wesleyan, Meth. for Methodist,
+Bap. for Baptist, P.B. for Plymouth Brethren, C.S. for Christian
+Scientist, Mug. for Muggletonian, C.E., Church of England, R.C.,
+Roman Catholic; J. for Jew, and _Nil_ if you aren't of any religion.
+And I'd put down '_Nil_' for mine!"
+
+"What made you do that? Why not Church of England?"
+
+"But I'm not Church of anything, any more than you and Maurice or the
+Lee-Levysons--or anybody!--belonging to the set of people we visit
+and meet and dine.... Nice, pleasant, sociable heathens--that's what
+we are, every one of us! We have plum-pudding at Christmas; and
+salt-fish with egg-and-oyster sauce on Good Fridays; and we drop in
+at Westminster Abbey to hear the Carols; and at Westminster Cathedral
+or Farm Street for the Passion Music;--or the Greek Church near the
+Russian Embassy, because the singing is worth hearing,--and other
+people go! And we scrum into St. Paul's for a Public
+Thanksgiving--or a Day of Humiliation, or a big Funeral or any other
+kind of Function.... And St. George's Hanover Square for Society
+weddings,--or the Brompton Oratory.... But religion.... Have any of
+us got it? ... 'You can search me!' as the American fellow says in
+the revue.... Still, if you'd like me to alter the letters on my
+disc I don't mind doing it. Only--instead of '_Nil_' there'll be a
+big 'J' for Jew!"
+
+She waxed shrill, driven beyond herself, used words long forgotten:
+
+"But you're not one. You've never even set foot inside a Synagogue.
+We don't observe the Shabbos--I mean the Sunday!--we eat _triphah_
+meat like Gentiles. We're _Meshumad_--apostates, don't you
+understand? Orthodox Jews wouldn't even speak to us!--aren't we well
+enough as we are?"
+
+"Would my grandfathers have thought so? Or my father?" ...
+
+She caught her breath and clutched at her bosom, the deep, slow voice
+was so unlike the younger John's. Unobservant of the consternation
+in her face, he went on speaking, gradually recovering the manner and
+tone most usual with him:
+
+"Alive, they'd have disowned us. Not being alive--what we observe or
+don't observe, can't affect them! The notion of a dead man
+stretching out a hand from the grave, and grabbing hold of his son by
+the scruff to drive the unlucky beggar on in the ancient ruts of his
+own prehistoric prejudices is exploded. For the dead are DEAD.
+There's no getting over that! And to let their thoughts, feelings,
+desires, convictions, influence us in Anything is to my mind, sheer
+sentimental piffle." John blew himself out importantly and waved
+away the subject, but came back, having something more to say: "I'm
+an ambitious chap in my way.... I'd like to make enough money on the
+Stock Exchange to buy the freehold of Covent Garden; and turn the
+Market,--the Arcades,--the shops and the Opera House into a Pleasure
+City,--run on American lines. But I've no ambition to live after I'm
+dead,--that I know of! ... If I get wiped out at the Front it won't
+make any difference to me whether they stick a cross over me--or a
+shield with some Hebrew letters painted on a white deal board....
+Beryl can get married the day after if she wants to! ... _I_ shan't
+ever know she's being kissed by another man. Nor shall I be one jot
+worse or better off because of the Good or Bad marks set against me.
+It matters how you live your life, because Morality is necessary--to
+preserve Health and maintain Decency, and so uphold the Law. But
+when one dies one's done with!--and the wisest rule of existence is,
+to live as long as possible, and enjoy things while one can! To
+succeed, to become famous, that's the only immortality--and to leave
+a son to carry on your name is a way of cheating Death!" He ended
+this confession of his creed by saying rather wistfully: "I meant to
+ask you.... Do you--do you think there's any chance of Beryl's
+marrying me before I go?"
+
+"To the Front! ... Why shouldn't there be? Why not ask her?" ...
+
+"Thanks awfully for the tip. I will!"
+
+He was cheered by her absolute belief that he could not but prevail.
+For if she had forgotten her faith, and turned her back upon her
+people; she was a mother and a loving one. There was motherhood in
+her face and in her voice as she asked John:
+
+"Haven't you even told Beryl--what you--where you're going, dear?"
+
+"No! so if she's got a white feather keeping up her sleeve for me,
+she'll be disappointed, that's all! My hat!--listen to that clock
+striking! Do you understand it's gone two! You won't have any
+beauty-sleep,--and I've got to be at Regimental Headquarters at ten
+sharp to-morrow, to get my kit with the rest of the Fourth Battalion,
+and weigh in at Eaton Square at 11.30 to break the great news and
+show myself to the girl."
+
+But when Mrs. Hazel had finally departed, John got out of bed,
+switched on a light and searched on the shelf that contained his
+private library, for a fat one-volume Encyclopædia that had been a
+School Prize. After some delving in this mine of knowledge, he
+emerged the wiser by the information appended:
+
+"JEWS, an Asiatic race (Semitic), descended from the Hebrew Patriarch
+Abraham. Original stock migrated 2,000 B.C. from Ur in Chaldea, an
+important centre of civilisation, to the land of Canaan (Phœnicia)
+and from thence in time of scarcity to the rich pasture-lands of
+Egypt; from whence tradition has it that their leader and lawgiver,
+Moses, was divinely inspired to lead them, by way of the Red Sea Gulf
+and the Sinaitic Wilderness. Through his teachings they renounced
+polytheism and adopted a monotheistic form of worship. Language,
+Hebrew, a variant of the Canaanitish branch of the Semitic Group,
+approximating closely to Phœnician or Moabite."
+
+The richer by this gem, John put back the book, switched off the
+light and got back into bed.
+
+Sleep delayed in coming. As he stared wide-eyed into the darkness,
+fragmentary recollections of that long-dead father formed fresh
+pictures in his brain. He saw a room, with a table laid for dinner
+with white napery and glittering silver, the high child's chair by
+which he stood, a chubby boy in petticoats, waiting for strong,
+gentle arms to lift him to the seat. While the owner of the arms, a
+tall man, dark and grave, washed his hands at a shining metal laver
+hanging on the dining-room wall beside the door. The tall man wore
+his hat during this ceremony, and the towel he used was long and
+narrow, and had embroidered ends....
+
+A similar laver had hung on the wall in his grandmother's private
+sitting-room, John remembered; carefully dusted, but never used by
+anybody as far as he had known. And over the laver had hung a plaque
+of metal, embossed with Hebrew characters: such a _mezusah_ as one
+saw affixed to doorposts in the City: thickening as one got nearer to
+Houndsditch: becoming dense in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel Road
+and the Commercial Road, E....
+
+He was destined to enjoy no beauty-sleep that night.
+
+For this materialistic, hard-headed, commonplace young City
+insurance-broker was loyal of nature, capable of warm attachments;
+faithful in friendship and honourable; according to his somewhat
+narrow Code. And the country in which he had been reared, the home
+in which Life had unfolded for his infant consciousness, the
+associations amongst which he had developed from a gawky boy into a
+tall young man, were English: and he had not known previously how
+much that meant to him.
+
+England was John Hazel's England, the City of London his by choice
+and adoption; the Tom Tiddler's Ground where he, a citizen and a
+patriot, had meant to pick up as much of the good stuff Money as he
+possibly could get. He loved Great Britain, her history, traditions,
+rulers and institutions with a love blind, instinctive, and deeply
+rooted, that embraced her Colonies and the Dominions Beyond the Seas.
+He had never lumbered up on his huge feet to do honour to the
+National Anthem; or cheered the King and Queen and the Prince of
+Wales, and other notabilities passing in procession to the Guildhall
+or elsewhere,--or listened to a patriotic speech at a City
+dinner,--or a West End public charity-function, without a big lump
+rising in his throat.
+
+And since the blizzard of War had burst upon this, his
+mother-country, and the new, strange, dreadful life had replaced the
+pleasant, easy-going old one, his love for England had become a rage.
+The tramp of martial boots going through the darkened streets; the
+heavy roll of guns, ammunition and baggage-lorries; the columns of
+bronzed faces under khaki cap-peaks, streaming under arches of
+railway stations; the dreadful news bruited by the newspapers,
+shouted in the streets, clubbing you when you opened your Latest
+Edition;--the mourning weeds on the backs of strangers and friends;
+the darkness of streets and restaurants and public places; the
+thickly-curtained windows of one's own home and one's neighbours'
+houses; the Spy Scare--and the hovering, haunting menace of Invasion
+by Aircraft--increased his patriotic fever day by day. Great tears
+had splashed upon the dirty drab paper he had signed when he
+enlisted. And they were the tears of an Asiatic;--a Semite whose
+ancestors had come out of Ur in Chaldea--and whose native language
+was a variant of the Canaanitish thingumbob. Perhaps no genuine
+Englishman would have shed them. And yet, some pathetic
+parting-scenes at Railway Stations had removed John's previous
+impression that hefty, hardy, masculine Britons are never known to
+cry.
+
+One is sorrowful to remember that beyond the narrow range of this
+young man's prejudices, and the stultifying influences of his
+environment, extended boundless vistas of which a more liberal and
+comprehensive range of reading;--fuel for the engines of the winged
+chariot of Thought and Imagination--might have made John Hazel
+free....
+
+But he lay prone, dull and unimaginative; staring over the bedclothes
+at the pale watery gleam of the dressing-mirror opposite, while out
+of the mighty Past--reverberating and flashing to this hour with the
+thunders and lightnings of Sinai,--Patriarchs, Law-giver, Judges,
+Prophets and Sages, Poets, Kings, Statesmen, Patriots, Preachers,
+Warriors, Artificers and Craftsmen of vanished Israel and living
+Judæa--dominated by One Figure, unspeakably more benign and
+glorious--looked down in solemn pitying wonder on the young City
+insurance-broker, who was depressed by the sudden discovery, that not
+only on the father's side but on the mother's,--he had been born a
+Jew.
+
+"Never mind, Old J.B.H.!" he told himself encouragingly. "Even if
+your ancestors did come out of Egypt with Moses, you're a pup of the
+Big Bull Bitch. And I'll tell you what, my boy! Good old England
+may count herself thundering lucky, if she gets a few hundred
+thousand others of the same breed to fight for her in this War!"
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+Panoplied for battle, in shoddy--misnamed khaki--of a deadly
+stale-mustard hue, bound with braid of whitey-yellow, garnished with
+the customary brass badges, buttons and buckles, and completed with
+the brown leather belt, bayonet-sling and bandolier; Private John
+Hazel--with a wire stiffener in the crown of his cap, and his
+pampered flesh wincing from the contact of the single Army rasper
+supplied him (for which, in the first flush of patriotism he had
+discarded his customary underwear)--presented himself before Beryl,
+his betrothed.
+
+"Oh, come now, Bur'l!" expostulated Muriel, Beryl's younger sister,
+compassionate of John's immense discomfiture, as Beryl subsided on
+the Rossmore couch in tears; and her unlucky lover, standing huge and
+awkward in the middle of the Wilton carpet, opposing his own
+full-length reflection in a wall-mirror, realised that the collar of
+his tunic was strangling, that his hands were bigger than he could
+have believed them; and that the boots supplied by a grateful country
+would have comfortably fitted a Brontosaur.
+
+"Tell him," moaned Beryl, "to leave me to my misery!"
+
+"She never used to mind poor Beechy in kharks," the chagrined lover
+somewhat heatedly protested, on being banished from the drawing-room.
+
+"Beauchamp was so handsome," said Beryl's sister Muriel, with her
+dancing dark eyes suddenly softening in tears, "and then you
+know,--he was an Officer of Regular Cavalry--and you're only a Common
+Tommy. Of course at the bottom of her heart Bur'l loves and respects
+you--but that's what's the matter, John, old thing! Wangle a
+Commission as soon as you can manage it"--the term "wangle" was
+coming into use just then--"do something Frightfully
+Distinguished--and she'll be as right as rain with you, really she
+will!"
+
+"Think so? ..." said John, with obviously artificial lightness.
+"Well, say good-bye to her for me for now, will you! And--my crowd
+were guarding the line of the South Western until a day or so
+back--and if I'd screwed myself up to the point of joining up
+before,--I might have wangled a D.C.M. by dropping on a German in the
+act of laying a time-fuse bomb in a tunnel. Now they've sent 'em out
+to Malta to train, and yours truly and a band of other Brave
+Hearts--late washouts!--are being sent after 'em! So by-by, little
+girlie--for I've got to buy a Cardigan jacket and a few other things
+I want. You might tell me Beryl's full Christian name--it's got to
+go down in my Will, naturally!--and be entered for reference with the
+Nearest of Kin, at the War Office--so that they can let the old thing
+know if I get wiped out!"
+
+John felt in a baggy front-pocket for a pigskin note-book, a parting
+gift from Maurice, and produced it, with a gold-mounted fountain-pen.
+Muriel dimpled again roguishly, and said with her bright eyes
+daringly challenging his own:
+
+"We've only one first name apiece--but they're not 'Beryl' and
+'Muriel'; nor are they particularly Christian, that I'm aware...."
+Then the consciousness of their recent loss, and her new black lisse,
+displaying a generous amount of slender black silk-stockinged leg,
+failed to subdue her girlish sense of humour. She clapped her hands
+and broke into a fit of laughter while John stared at her
+uncomprehendingly, the fountain-pen suspended over the
+memorandum-book. "Oh, don't goggle at me like that!" cried the girl.
+"You're too killing for anything! And so is your mother, and so is
+Maury--and so are Dad and Mater, and nearly every one in our set.
+And yet I'm Miriam--and Beryl is Rebekah--and poor darling Beauchamp
+was Benjamin--though they aren't going to have it on his memorial
+card, or stone! Do we really forget we're Jews--or do we all pretend
+until it's second nature? And why do we pretend--unless we're
+ashamed!--and why on earth should we be ashamed, that's what I want
+to know?"
+
+Thus Muriel, confessedly Miriam; and John had found no better answer
+than:
+
+"Why you or any of us should be ashamed I'm hanged if I know myself!
+But if ever I find out I'll write and tell you."
+
+"Don't forget!" said Muriel-Miriam. "I'm coming to the door to see
+you off. Good-bye for now, J. old Bean! Put one for Bur'l here;--"
+the tip of a pretty, well-manicured finger indicated a particularly
+peachy place on Muriel-Miriam's right cheek,--"and another of the
+same on this side, for me. Ta-ta! I'll send you lots of cigs, when
+I know where you're training--and parcels no end when you get out to
+the Front! And tell me you'll go in for a Commission, and get a V.C.
+or something,--just to brisk old Bur'l up!"
+
+"Oh! Tell her," said John with somewhat forced and clumsy humour,
+masking the slowly-kindling resentment in his heart, "that I mean to
+finish up my service in this War a private in the ranks--where I
+began it. And that when I--if I come back, she'll hear me singing:
+'They've All Got a Sam Browne But Me,'--long before I come in sight."
+
+"I shall listen for you!" said Muriel-Miriam, bursting with laughter,
+"but you don't think I'm going to give that message, I hope!"
+
+She did not pass it on; but her younger sister Ida, a sharp child
+aged thirteen, who happened to be lingering in the neighbourhood of
+the umbrella-stand, communicated to Beryl her lover's parting
+message; to which,--or to the superior attractions of a certain
+Captain Hawtin-Billson (back from the Front with a shattered left arm
+and a Mention in Despatches) may be attributed Beryl's subsequent
+breakage of the engagement between herself and John Hazel, and the
+return of his ruby and diamond ring....
+
+
+During the strenuous period of training that followed on John Hazel's
+joining up, his large reserve-fund of conceit was lowered by the
+merciless chaff of the ranks, and the vigorous language of his
+platoon-Sergeant, whose little red-veined eyes, glaring into his own,
+reflected in their muddiness his puny insignificance.
+
+He learned to put on his puttees properly, clean his accoutrements,
+make his bed and condense his pack to regulation limits, under the
+instruction of one Lance Corporal Harris,--an ex-Boy Scout of
+appalling efficiency--as well as to gulp down his morning mug of tea,
+in defiance of the probability of the fluid containing in solution an
+ounce of Epsom salts. And by the time the Fourth Battalion of the
+Fenchurch Street Fusiliers quitted their training-quarters at Malta,
+replaced there by a Fifth Battalion created in the interval--and were
+transferred to the fighting-line in Flanders; he had acquired the
+soldier's much-prized gift of summoning sleep at will. Also, he had
+learned to dispense with sleep, were the sacrifice required....
+After months of bitter fighting at the Front he had learned to go
+unshaven, unwashed, and with unchanged linen,--endure the plagues of
+vermin in a crowded, unventilated dugout--share a fag with a man who
+had none; smoke the Army gasper in lieu of anything better,--and
+consume biscuit and bully mingled with dirt, and washed down with
+burnt-bread coffee; or Pimmington's Perfect Soup Substitute, boiled
+in a rusty jam-tin over a Tommy's Cooker,--with a gastronomic rapture
+that a dinner at the Carlton, the Ritz or the Savoy had previously
+failed to evoke.
+
+Also, John Hazel had learned to hold the Battalion in limitless
+esteem; to regard the Regiment he had once despised as a mob of
+clerks, shop-boys and warehousemen--as the pick and pride of the
+Territorial Forces, and to graft on the slang of the modern Londoner,
+the polyglottic argot of the War.
+
+Finally, and subsequently to Beryl's defection, he had reconstituted
+his standard of the Ideal in Woman, after what fashion and under what
+circumstances may now be set forth.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+In the April of 1915, east of "that mad place called Ypres,"--a city
+of ruinous white towers reddened by an angry sunrise, lying ahead and
+to the left. A grim grey road leading from Divisional Headquarters
+to the battle-front, a double crescent of blown-in trenches
+ankle-deep in water, and bottomed with West Flanders mud. A road
+fanged with the stumps of trees shattered by H.E. and scarred by
+iron-shod wheels; pitted with shell-holes, and generally knee-deep in
+sludge of an adhesive character. A road along which progressed,
+under cover of the darkness, long columns of men, guns and
+Army-lorries; A.S.C. cars and motor-cycles carrying ammunition,
+supplies, mails and despatches for the advanced trenches; unless
+German star-shell or searchlights made it daylight, when traffic
+stopped dead, to move on when the menace passed.
+
+Day found the road deserted as a rule, though German hate played on
+it regularly at intervals, with rifle and machine-guns and clouds of
+poison-gas. But sometimes under the leaden scowl of a rainy day, or
+the brassy glare of a sunny one, the road displayed a double moving
+line. This, when one of the myriad little wars, presently to be
+merged in Warfare,--demanded the attainment of some objective
+infinitely insignificant,--at the cost of some great sacrifice of
+human life.
+
+On this particular April day, what time the British line from Ypres
+southwards was strengthened--in default of missing sandbags--with
+tins of uneatable jam of the apple-blackberry brand, and equally bad
+corned-beef: columns of muddy Londoners and Scotsmen with helmets and
+gas-respirators at the alert, were going up to Support-trenches.
+Afoot now,--having disembarked at a marked danger-point from the grey
+Army lorries--or green and yellow motor 'buses that had carried many
+of the Londoners to business in the days that seemed so dim and so
+far off. And as they went, though shrapnel burst about them, and
+High Explosive dug new craters beside old, and wiped out a platoon or
+so in doing it,--they sang to the accompaniment of mouth-organs;
+"_Keep the Home Fires Burning_," or "_Piccadilly_," or "_I Love a
+Lassie_," or excruciatingly-parodied hymns.
+
+But the troops that were coming down from the fighting-line to
+rest-billets (mostly Canadians, red with rust, muddy to the eyebrows,
+marching raggedly in companies or jumbled up anyhow in the lorries),
+did not sing "_The Maple Leaf_" or "_My Little Grey Home_." Many
+wore First Aid bandages smeared with iodine; nine out of ten hobbled
+and coughed and vomited; and the mucus they wrenched from their
+labouring lungs was yellow and mingled not infrequently with blood.
+It was their first experience of a German gas-attack, and the horror
+of the strange and evil thing was upon them; and the reek of it was
+in their clothes and breath. Yet those who could--called out
+cheerfully to recognised friends; or grinned with their cracked and
+swollen mouths in answer to cheery hails. Their reddened eyes of
+sleeplessness stared out of haggard, unshaved faces, and their muddy
+shoulders humped under their muddy kit-packs, as though the muddy
+ground were drawing them to lie down upon it and sleep. And every
+now and then one would falter in his stride and smile stupidly; and
+heavily and soggily collapse in the gluey mush. A comrade who had
+energy enough left in him would kick and shake such a sleeper into
+temporary wakefulness; or one of the men who perched beside the
+drivers of the Hospital cars and ambulances,--R.A.M.C. orderlies or
+Red Cross bearers, would play the Samaritan thus, when the subject
+would stagger on, to fall again. Or room would be made for him in
+some omnibus or lorry where lightly-wounded or badly-gassed men were
+packed like bloaters in a barrel, and so the game went on.
+
+Private John Hazel, crunching a muddy apple, trudged through the
+sticky mud as part of a somewhat straggling route-column representing
+the Fourth Battalion of the Fenchurch Street Regiment. One novel
+sensation had that morning thrilled the Terriers, stale with the
+deadly boredom of life in the rear lines. Necks were yet being
+twisted to get the last of it, and joyous comments tossed it from
+tongue to tongue. A cow,--hidden away for months by an ancient
+peasant in some subterranean stable in No Man's Land (whence her milk
+had been retailed at the price of Veuve Cliquot to the Canadians in
+the firing-line)--was being brought down to the rear by her
+proprietor; her late lodgings having been discovered and thoroughly
+spring-cleaned by a German H.E. shell....
+
+"Moi hoi, if it be-ant a cow!" said a voice that had the roll and
+twang of Berkshire. "Coosh-coosh, Snowdrop, ole beauty!"
+
+"My Gawd, she don't 'arf look natural, do 'er?" came from a Cockney
+tongue....
+
+Not a human unit of all those trudging columns but had slewed his
+head to stare at Crummy, and sniff the homely odours of hay and
+farmyard-muck that shook from her muddy flanks as she kloop-klooped
+by. What though she had raw patches of mange upon her
+withers--testifying to the poorness of her diet and the closeness of
+her quarters! To men who had not seen a cow, pig, cock or hen for
+weeks, moving upon that devastated country of once prosperous farms,
+productive fields, fruitful orchards, and stately rural mansions, the
+sight was comforting; bringing reassurance that in regions as yet
+unscathed by the frightfulness of War, yet were to be found quiet and
+order, laughter and pleasure, savoury food, sleep in one's own bed,
+and the humble, harmless things of everyday use, that make life sweet
+by their very homeliness.
+
+Another sensation was in store that day, and though the novelty of it
+wore off with retrospection, John Hazel's keen enjoyment of the
+episode never blunted....
+
+Down through the return-traffic on his left hand side, came a stately
+fleet of motor-waggon ambulances of the Red Cross, British and
+American; escorted by a train of Auxiliary Army Service cars of all
+imaginable makes, nationalities and sizes, from the aristocratic
+Rolls-Royce to the runabout Ford; from the Mercedes-Daimler of the
+Parisian boulevards to the roomy Schneider touring-car,--bringing
+wounded from the advanced dressing-stations down to the
+clearing-hospitals six miles back of the Reserve Lines.
+
+The grey ambulances passed, in a mingled whiff of carbolic and
+iodoform: leaving a sense of grey paint, mystery and merciful
+swiftness. The cars, mostly carrying sitting-cases--flowed after
+them; steering neatly among the shell-holes, picking their way with
+practised smoothness among the various obstacles encumbering the
+road. And they left behind an impression of still figures wrapped in
+brown Army blankets: and grey-green or livid faces with closed or
+staring eyes, shaded by sacking-covered steel hats or bloody
+bandages: of an even stronger blast of carbolic and iodoform, and of
+Beauty, calm, alert, composed and eminently practical.
+
+For all these auxiliary ambulance-cars were driven by women: in the
+black leather overcoats of Foreign Service, with D.B. Kitchener
+collars, and plain shoulder-straps with the button of the Red Cross
+Society's V.A.D. The pick and pride of the Old Country they
+seemed,--all young, or in the splendour of the early thirties. The
+best blood in Britain, John Hazel could have sworn,--raced under the
+sunburn of those quiet clear-cut faces, topped by peaked storm-caps
+of Navy blue cloth. He saw the neck of the lieutenant leading his
+platoon blaze red between his sweat-blackened collar and the edge of
+his tin hat, and the muddy glove swing up in the salute, as a clear
+voice rang out gaily from a driving-seat:
+
+"He knows one of 'em. Lucky beast! I wonder--" John had reached
+thus far in his conjecture when a pip-squeak burst overhead with
+three sharp crashes; and a shell from a German howitzer dropped in an
+ancient neighbouring shellpit, considerably enlarging it--and
+producing the fantastic smoke-effect known as "Woolly Bear."
+
+John Hazel bolted the core of his muddy apple, and mechanically made
+sure that "they" had not got him this time. The head under his tin
+hat was ringing, his eyes and lungs were full of acrid vapour: but no
+shrapnel was located in any portion of his frame. The cars were
+running by as smoothly as ever.... You could see through the
+thinning fumes the faces of the drivers, set like rock to confront
+War's risks and chances: and a blatant pride in them surged up in
+John Hazel and he caught his breath... They were his
+countrywomen.... Then Wallis, his front-file man, suddenly fell back
+upon him, knocking him breathless with his pack, and cutting his top
+lip badly with the edge of his shrapnel hat. With blood running over
+his long chin, blue and stubbly with bad shaving, John held up
+Wallis, who was making queer, clucking, farmyard noises:
+
+"_Auch--auch--auch!_ ..."
+
+"The bloody 'Uns," growled John's left-hand man to his neighbour,
+"'as copped pore Ginger!" and the lieutenant ahead looked around.
+Wallis had ceased clucking by now; and the hand of John's supporting
+arm, where it went round across his cartridge-belt under his
+tunic-pockets, was wet with the usual warm, sticky stuff. And a
+voice that was clear-cut and ringing called out something, and a car
+slowed down its speed, and those behind it swept round and on....
+And the lieutenant was shouting through the myriad noises of traffic:
+"If you can, it would be topping of you.... This isn't a healthy
+road to stop on. Thanks frightfully! ... You, Hazel, hoist him in
+and catch us up after! ... Forward. March! ..."
+
+The V.A.D. driver had never quite stopped her car, John Hazel
+remembered. She had checked it to a crawl and he had kept pace with
+it, carrying the now rapidly-buckling Wallis--whose head had dropped
+forward, and whose helmet had fallen off--at the full stretch of his
+long arms since he stripped the pack from him. A Red Cross orderly
+had taken it together with Wallis's rifle.
+
+"No room behind!" came in the ringing, feminine tones. "We're four
+over the proper load already! ... This seat beside me ... the
+orderly can sit on the step. You'll be all right there, won't you,
+Martynside? Now please lift when I give the word; _Go!_ ... Don't
+worry about the blood. Lean your head against my shoulder!" She
+added for the cheer of Wallis, who was trying to say something
+apologetic: "Quite all right, if you're careful of my steering
+arm.... Comfortable? ... All right, Martynside! And--don't be too
+anxious about your friend. We shall look after him!"
+
+Perhaps something in the comrade's gaunt brown face, a flare of
+wistfulness burning in his big hollow black eyes had drawn the
+attention of the speaker. As a matter of fact, the way in which her
+strong womanly shoulder had swayed to meet Wallis's limply sagging
+head, had given John Hazel a sensation as of plucking at the
+heartstrings. And--where had he heard that voice before? ... She
+went on, answering the hungry look in the gaunt black eyes that met
+hers:
+
+"You shall hear of him, if news can possibly be got to you. I'll
+send a post-card if you'll give me your name. 'Private John Hazel,
+No. 000, X. Platoon, F. Company, 4th Battalion, 448th City of London
+Regiment, Support Trenches, Ypres.' That's quite all right! ... Your
+Reserve is at St. Jean.... Hang on to this!" This being a thick,
+squat packet of Dundee Butterscotch. "Good-bye and good luck! ...
+You'll be coming down this way in a week or two."
+
+"If I don't get gassed or wounded.... Good-bye and thanks
+tremendously!"
+
+John grinned, showing his big white teeth with the effect of a sudden
+illumination in his gaunt brown face; and there and then,--with a
+snort from the now rapidly-moving car, and a nod and smile from the
+driver,--the little episode had ended. Leaving John Hazel with a
+pleasanter flavour upon his mental palate than the sour American
+apple had left in his mouth. Something that was sweet with the
+aromatic sweetness of the ripe gold-and-crimson pippin whose rich
+juices have been perfected by the lightest touch of frost. And She
+had had the frankest and most candid eyes, of the clearest cairngorm
+golden-brown, that John had ever seen in a woman's head, and a wide,
+kind, charming mouth, that had shown two rows of dazzling teeth in a
+parting smile that had crinkled the eyes deliciously at the
+corners.... And so they had parted; going east and south-west, the
+V.A.D. to her clearing-hospital, the Londoner with a new, strange
+warmth about the heart, catching up his Company on the edge of a
+new-made crater, in time to take over the duty of Harris, now
+platoon-Sergeant, killed with three other men by a shell from "Silent
+Lizzie," the terrible 5.9 German Navy gun.
+
+Thus the mantle of heroism had been transferred to the broad,
+unwilling shoulders of John Hazel, from those of the energetic young
+N.C.O. who had been to him as a thorn in the flesh. He had loathed
+Harris, with his pink and white complexion, his auburn quiff, and his
+appalling, crushing efficiency. And Harris, who as a Boy Scout had
+passed every imaginable test of ability and gained every badge
+obtainable,--had warmly abhorred John, as the shrieking example of
+everything a British soldier should not be....
+
+"It's for your good I keep on what you call nagging at you, Hazel!"
+would be the introduction to every exordium: "A dirty soldier is a
+disgrace to his King and Country, and that's what you'd be if you
+couldn't afford to bribe men you consider your inferiors to wind your
+puttees tight, and fasten 'em properly, and keep your straps and
+buckles clean."
+
+Or:
+
+"It's for your good I follow you up, as you express it; and when
+you're able to make a fire out of mud and rotten beet-leaves, and an
+'ot meal out of bully beef, ration-biscuit and an onion, more like an
+Egyptian 'All professor of ledgerdemang than a British Tommy'--which
+is like your nerve to use such language, so much the better it'll be
+for you! Don't tell me you can't keep your puttees from trailin'
+about your legs like snakes and the rust from disguising the metal on
+your 'coutrements. Don't say you can put up with 'ardships, and that
+you mean to stick it, ... To make Bad Better is your duty! and to
+'unker like an 'og in the slush of Belgium, when you could sit on a
+faggot and keep reasonable dryish: and shiver when you could 'eat
+yourself inside and out by a bit of forethought--is your disgrace and
+not your praise!"
+
+And Harris would light the fire and set the stew going, or thrust on
+his unwilling subordinate a portion of his own; and depart cheerfully
+whistling, and ostentatiously in possession of the equable temper
+which a Scout must never, never lose!--leaving the prodded object of
+his zealousness frothing with impotent rage.
+
+Small wonder that the alert personality of Harris, his observant
+glance, unsparing criticism and unfailing Preparedness in every
+emergency were,--with his orange quiff and the trench-rings on his
+little fingers--by Private Hazel utterly abhorred.
+
+After the clubbing of a certain German prisoner who had treacherously
+shot a comrade of John's, Harris did not hesitate to denounce Private
+Hazel as "a butcherly brute." Yet dying on the edge of the big new
+crater hollowed at the roadside by "Silent 'Lizzie," he used his last
+forces to faintly shout in the stooped ear of his platoon-lieutenant:
+
+"Let Hazel carry on in my place, Sir! He's a filthy fighter--but the
+best man we've got!"
+
+So, ex-Scout Harris died, true to the last to his ideals, having
+played the game for his side right up to the end.... And within
+twenty-four hours of reaching the second-line trenches, Harris's
+reluctant deputy, saddled with the necessity of keeping up Harris's
+reputation as a daredevil, had led a company to the support of the
+front line in the place of a lieutenant wounded--and had won the
+D.C.M. by a single-handed bomb-attack upon an enemy machine-gun
+position,--which enabled our London Terriers to charge over the
+parapet and clear out the wasp's nest. Had been offered and
+respectfully declined promotion--on the grounds that he didn't like
+responsibility!--and had subsequently, in the act of drinking tea at
+the door of the platoon dug-out--been knocked out of action by a
+splinter of shell.
+
+Thus, adhering in death as in life to his policy of well-meant
+aggravation, Sergeant Harris came between his bugbear and the
+promised, longed-for post-card. For if indeed it had been sent, it
+had never reached John.... Damn Harris! But what good was there in
+damning Sergeant Harris? Hell wasn't the place you'd catch that
+efficient young beggar going to. Hadn't he, assiduously as he kept
+his body, looked after his cocky little soul! In the gusts of fever
+that shook his brain as he lay in his cot at the Receiving Hospital,
+John pictured Harris with his quiff all curled and shiny,--dressed in
+the spruce white clothing of the righteous--heard him with the ears
+of imagination, shouting hymns that went with a marching swing.
+
+The fever subsided by and by, and, after four months of bitter
+fighting, Private John Benn Hazel, No. 000, X. Platoon, F. Company,
+4th Battalion, (subsequently to a brief sojourn at a French Base
+Hospital) found himself back in Blighty, well pleased to be alive.
+He ended his final period of residence as a patient at the Auxiliary
+Military War Hospital of Colthill in Middlesex, in the July when
+German South-west Africa surrendered to Smuts and Botha: and was
+pronounced convalescent by the C.M.O. in the first week of December,
+1915; the self-same raw, bleak and nipping day that saw the Fenchurch
+Streets'--with other British forces transferred to the Egyptian
+Expeditionary--embark for Salonika.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+The bit of shrapnel irritating his left lung,--located there by the
+X-Ray, but deemed by the surgeons unreachable, had ceased to bother
+much; and the gas-bronchitis--another souvenir of that mad place
+called Ypres--had quieted down to a wheezy cough. John was lying
+back, rather damp and exhausted after an access of this cough, when
+the Ward Sister in charge that afternoon looked round the
+screen--there had been three; but two of them had been taken away
+because the patient was getting on so nicely,--to say that a visitor
+wished to speak to him, Number Forty--if he felt well enough?
+
+"Tell the old girl they won't allow me to eat anything but apples or
+Brazil-nuts,--and that I'm not to smoke more than two cigarettes at a
+time!"
+
+John's homely effort at wit evoked an approving nod and smile from
+the Sister. She vanished as the Hospital porter, a one-armed
+ex-Guardsman who previously to Mons had been a famous Regimental
+pugilist--came stepping lightly as a cat over the highly-polished
+floor, carrying a 200-weight coal-bucket. As the replenished fire
+began to crackle and blaze, the Ward Sister returned, ushering a
+little, frail, bent old man, with flowing hair and a patriarchal
+beard of the white that has passed into straw-colour; sharp twinkling
+eyes under penthouse eyebrows lighting a face of innumerable
+wrinkles, reddish-pink and leathery like a marmoset's. He carried a
+tall hat in one hand and a brown leather bag in the other, and wore a
+black velvet skull-cap, greasy with faithful wear. A round-collared,
+single-breasted overcoat of brown cloth, with yellow horn buttons,
+revealed the bottoms of shiny black trousers, ending in square-toed,
+black cloth-topped boots. The boots were clogged with Middlesex mud,
+as though he had walked from the station. A purple woollen comforter
+and mitts to match, defied the December blasts.
+
+Firelight played bo-peep on the white ceiling, and chased dodging
+shadows in and out between the neat beds, ranged along the creamy
+walls of the long, cheerful ward, and winked in the dark polish of
+the boards, and was reflected in the glass-topped tables supporting
+pots of hyacinths and daffodils as well as big blue-glass stoppered
+bottles of Perox: Hydro: and Mercurial Sol:. But the unexpected
+appearance of his ancient visitor had cast a glamour over Number
+Forty. His body lay in bed in Colthill War Hospital. But in spirit
+he stood in his Grandfather Simonoff's Hull counting-house, a boy of
+three in diamond socks, strap-shoes and a blue jean round-about,
+straining his sharp young ears for the rustling of a paper bag.
+
+Peppermint rock, brown or white, was John Hazel's darling weakness.
+His letters Home, during his sojourn in the trenches, had invariably
+ended with a prayer for more peppermint rock. And the sight of this
+queer old man evoked all sorts of pungent memories connected with the
+favourite sweet stuff. His big black eyes and the sharp little
+red-veined old eyes met, and something like an electric shock passed
+between them. And the shaggy penthouse eyebrows of the old man came
+down, and then shot up to meet his velvet skull-cap--or the cap came
+down to meet them,--and at the same moment his ears wagged, and John
+Hazel knew him again. Twenty-seven years were temporarily blotted
+out, and he was once more a five-year-old--and old Mendel was feeling
+in the pocket that bulged--and John Hazel found himself licking his
+lips--but nothing but a blue-spotted cotton handkerchief came out of
+the bulgy pocket. With this, Mendel--had he ever had another
+name?--loudly blew his nose, and as the Ward Sister placed a chair,
+and vanished with a whisk of cotton-print skirts (notably shorter in
+this December of 1915 than the previous uniform pattern), he uttered
+something in a strange, unknown and yet familiar tongue:
+
+"_Shalôm--shalôm!_" He added as he met the astonished stare of John's
+gaunt black eyes. "You are like your father as pea is like pea; and
+yet--when I wish peace to you in the Holy Tongue, you don't
+understand me! A shame and a sin!--but I'm not here to reproach you
+for being a Meshumad! That's not my affair! You're not my
+grandson,--the Holy One be praised!"
+
+"Mr. Bartoth--" John had exhumed the other name by a strenuous effort
+of memory: "whether you are pleased to see me or not, I'm very glad
+to see you! Do you object to shaking hands?"
+
+"Behold!" Mendel blew his nose again loudly, and said as he restored
+the blue-spotted handkerchief to the bulgy pocket; "I am 'Mr.
+Bartoth' to the child I dandled.... You have not kept the good way,
+but there is a good heart in you.... You sit there with your medal
+on your breast--" a famous Divisional Commander, visiting Blighty to
+enjoy a brief leave, had looked in at the Hospital on the day
+previous, and conferred on Private Hazel--with some laudatory
+expressions, the Medal for Distinguished Conduct in the Field--"and
+you're not too proud to offer your hand to Old Mendel--nor you've not
+forgotten his name! Yet you were a babe of three years when your
+father died, peace be upon him! and but four when we lost your
+grandfather, peace be upon him! and too young to say Kaddish; and
+now that your grandfather and your uncles and your cousins are dead,
+peace be upon them! you, a grown man of thirty-three, are ignorant as
+a babe. _Shaigatz!_ But it's no use to be angry. Besides, I must
+get back to London in time to catch the four o'clock Express from St.
+Pancras. I came by the 5.48 from Hull and got in at two o'clock
+noon."
+
+"Haven't you had anything to eat?--Won't you--" John was beginning
+when the old man, who had sunk upon the chair with a boneless
+limpness eloquently expressive of his weariness, silenced him with a
+gesture of fierce abhorrence, and he was fain to hold his tongue.
+
+"I have had all I want. Do you think my wife sent me forth upon this
+journey without provision for my necessities?" He had unbuttoned the
+brown coat and was fumbling in an inner pocket, from which he finally
+drew forth a little packet and a key. "Here--this belongs to you.
+It comes from your grandfather Eli Hazaël--peace be upon him! and may
+his soul be bound up in the Bundle of Life!"
+
+John received in his big palm a small but heavy something rolled up
+in tissue-paper and tied with a little wisp of black floss silk.
+Without opening, he sat staring at it, while Mendel boggled about
+opening the shabby brown bag with a tarnished Bramah key.
+
+"How did my grandfather and my uncles and my cousins die?" he
+queried, rousing himself from a state of mental stupefaction
+accompanied by a profound physical weariness, a singing in his ears,
+and a familiar sweetish-saltish taste at the back of his throat. And
+Mendel looked up from rummaging in the now open bag with his veinous,
+knotted, shaky old hands, to say resentfully:
+
+"How does any one die in these days except through the War? ... The
+people of all the nations of the earth are tearing at each other's
+throats--and not only the young fighting-men, but the children and
+the aged, both men and women!--these must suffer also.... Soon after
+the Ashkenazim--" John knew he meant the Germans--"invaded Belgium,
+the Turkish Army was--what is the word?"
+
+"Mobilised. Yes, the dirty beggars!" said John, employing a less
+savoury term than beggar, "they've been stuffed up with lies about
+the Kaiser being a Mohammedan, and they're ready to back him for all
+they're worth. At Abu Zenima and at Tor they gave us plenty of
+trouble; and they nearly rushed Aden, last summer, when our best
+brigades and batteries serving on the Suez Canal had been sent to the
+Dardanelles. Lucky we gave them a gruelling at Serapeum--and stopped
+their little game at mining the waterways of the Canal. As it was
+they jabbed up the Grand Senussi to make Western Egypt hot for us.
+His Bedwân are sniping at British troops like blazes--our black
+garrison at Port Sollum are just sitting on their thumbs. But anyhow
+we're keeping up our end at Anzac and Gallipoli, and my crowd will be
+helping, I expect, pretty soon. They've--damn this beastly cough!
+They've--"
+
+"_Tsch--tsch!_"
+
+John stared as Mendel, who raised himself from stooping nearly double
+over the bag, gesticulated at him violently with papers in his
+withered claws.
+
+"_Tschah!_ ... Have I time to hear you tell of what is in the
+newspapers these three weeks back? ... What I have to do is to make
+known to you what the British Press thinks not worth telling--the
+griefs of our people--and the manner of their deaths. The
+idolaters--accursed be they! mobilised after the Invasion. As their
+Young Turk Constitution of 1909 made Arabs, Christians and Jews
+equally liable to military service, your cousins,--like all other
+young men of the district,--were marched to the recruiting office by
+the Turkish soldiers who accompanied the _mouchtar_ who came with the
+lists. They were not allowed to return home for food, or money, or
+clothing,--or to obtain the blessing of their parents,--but hurried
+off to the _Hân_, locked up like animals with hundreds of filthy
+Arabs: and sent from thence like prisoners--bare-footed and
+half-naked--to reinforce the garrisons in Northern Galilee. And your
+grandfather--he was living at the house of his son Isaac, a country
+place near Haffêd--for years were growing heavy on Eli Hazaël....
+Even the strong back bows under the burden of ninety-nine! And the
+spirit of Prophecy came on him as he watched the young men Elias and
+Jacob departing,--and he turned to his son Isaac and said: 'They will
+not return, they are gone from us for ever, and you and your brother
+will be the next to go!' This was on the 8th of August of the
+Christian Era 1914, or, as we say, the 30th Ab of 5674.... Meanwhile
+the German Consul at Haifa is going about the country, preaching to
+the Arabs how Germans are not Christians like the French or British,
+but Children of Mohammed the camel-driver, and worshippers of the
+Black Stone. And that their Kaiser is the Messiah of Islam:--and in
+all their Mosques prayers are made for the Sultan and Hadji--"
+
+"Bill! ... Haw-haw!" John guffawed, pleased and tickled by his own
+apt joke.
+
+"Peace, boy! and let me finish. This is no _chine_ to set a
+_Schlemihl_ grinning. There is blood in it and anguish, and tears!
+For Jewish and Christian recruits at the training-camps were disarmed
+and stripped of their uniforms,--(khaki and _enveriehs_ which most
+had bought new at Turkish value for fear of getting infected
+garments),--and put to labour under the whips of Turkish gang-masters
+in the _taboor amlieh_. Those are the working-corps that are
+building a new railway-branch of the Central Palestine from El Tineh
+in Philistia southwest to Gaza and southward to Beersheba--and making
+military roads for the Turks between Saffed and Tiberias--in case the
+railways should be cut off by the British by and by! And others are
+sent to labour at construction-camps at Hebron and Samaria. While at
+home in the other towns of Palestine and the villages of the
+Colonies--the goods of Christians and Jews were requisitioned, and
+silver and gold and jewels plundered; fences torn up and olive-groves
+cut down, and evil worked in many ways. Worse than all, shame has
+been brought upon the matrons and daughters of Israel, even such as
+Esther, the only daughter of your Uncle Isaac, a virgin of eighteen
+years!"
+
+John flushed dark purple under his mahogany skin and rapped out an
+ugly epithet:
+
+"Who was the ------ hound?"
+
+"He is one Hamid Bey, a Colonel of Turkish gendarmerie, Vali of the
+labour-camps near Nazareth--high in the confidence of the Turkish
+commander of their Eighth Army Corps, and, like all the rest of the
+idolaters, lustful as an ape. And she--_Achi Nebbich!_ she was as a
+rose of Sharon! And word came to her brother Jacob, who was working
+with the road-gangs at Tiberias, his cousin Elias being a labourer on
+the railway near Beersheba--peace be upon them! Therefore, Jacob,
+with one Reuben Ephraim--their playmate from childhood, and a
+fellow-labourer--who had an affection for Esther--as she unto him,
+poor creature!--broke out of camp and struck across the hills to
+Nazareth--careless of peril, raging like furious wolves."
+
+"Wish I'd had the chance to make one of the party!" John murmured.
+Old Mendel's croaking voice went on:
+
+"Now these two had determined to purchase exemption from
+service,--notwithstanding that they were already enrolled,--for such
+things can be done where the officers are Turks!--and they brought
+with them the money, forty gold pieces of twenty francs for
+each,--that is eighty pieces!--meaning to buy with them the honour of
+the girl! They found out where Hamid Bey was quartered--in the large
+new _Khân_ near the _Hammâm_ that is at the north-east end of
+Nazareth, looking towards the fig-orchards and vineyards and
+olive-groves that are as a green fringe upon the borders of the
+Tiberias Road. News had come through that Turkey was at War, and
+there was terror in the hearts of the people.... First, the French
+Christian Orphanage--then the Scotch Medical Mission--then every
+hospital, school, convent or mission in the town had been taken over
+by the Turkish Army Corps' Commander for military uses--and Jewish
+and European houses were gutted by the score. The streets were full
+of howling rioters--there was concealment in such confusion,--so the
+young men lurked in the gardens through the day, and Jacob kept close
+to the sentry-posts and heard the password--thus when dusk fell they
+passed the sentries, and came into the lower part of the _Khân_. And
+with cunning they made their way up to the Bey's apartment--and found
+him there with Esther. _Achi Nebbich!_"
+
+Mendel's parchment forehead was wet with perspiration. He mopped it
+and went on, screwing up his nose and blinking:
+
+"When she leaped from the divan shrieking and fell upon her face at
+the feet of her brother and lover, the Bey's eyes barely followed
+her,--he was already weary of his toy. He covered the boys with his
+big German Army revolver--his companion even in pleasure--and told
+them that he was willing to hear what they had to say.... They said
+it, and offered the money--as the price--not of Esther's honour--for
+she was ruined already!--but to purchase her deliverance from slavery
+with him."
+
+The veins on John's forehead were swollen and blackening. Mendel's
+voice had sunk to a penetrating hiss.
+
+"The Turk--may Fire from Heaven consume him!--was immovable by
+arguments and deaf to prayers. He would take the eighty gold
+pieces--what Turk can resist money!--but his Jewish concubine he
+would keep also. Then Jacob asked to speak to Esther apart. No
+farther than the end of the room, distant from the door and
+windows.... To this the Bey agreed, smiling, turning his tongue
+between his lips, and--keeping the German Army revolver--they all
+have them--and Zeiss binoculars!--ready in his hand. Then--Reuben
+says:--"
+
+"Was it _he_ who told you?"
+
+"Of that presently! Then Jacob embraced Esther and Reuben as one
+that taketh farewell for a journey--while Reuben watched them
+shudderingly, knowing what should come! The Turk signed that Jacob
+should hand him the bag of money--and this Jacob did. Bowing
+obsequiously before the son of Satan--who, thrusting the revolver in
+its pouch--gripped the bag, with one hand--and with the other patted
+the youth upon the cheek that was as fair as Esther's--and touched
+with the first growth of the black silken down...."
+
+John would have said "Go on," but he couldn't. The little, eyes like
+glowing embers held him spellbound, as they burned into his own....
+
+"Suddenly Jacob sprang like a leopard on the revolver, wrenched it
+away and leapt to his feet. The Bey set his whistle to his lips and
+blew,--and his servants and orderlies came running in tumultuously.
+But not so quickly but that two shots had cracked out--and the room
+was ringing!--and the brown cordite smoke hung under the ceiling in a
+thin cloud, smelling of aniseed, and mingled with the smell of
+scorched flesh and hair. For--Jacob--peace be upon him!--had thrust
+the pistol-muzzle close against the girl's temple when he shot
+her--and fired the next bullet into his own mouth!"
+
+"How on earth did Reuben get off?"
+
+"He cannot tell me. The Lord knoweth! But he found himself running
+through the night like a deer,--with shots and shouts dying out upon
+the distance--and when he ran into the dawn of the mild November day,
+lo! there was blood upon his naked feet! Esther's and Jacob's! ...
+But why should there have been blood upon his hands, and a dagger in
+one of them--bloody also? ... He does not know! ... A frenzy was upon
+him. The country was searched for him, but he had found a friend who
+kept him well hidden. He was the American Consul at Jaffa, and in
+the safety of his shadow Reuben dwelt for many days. Then he found
+means to communicate with his family. From them he learned that
+Elias--the cousin of Jacob and Esther who was working on the
+Beersheba Railway,--had suffered the punishment of the _falagy_.
+Why? For abetting his cousin--of whose deed he knew not!--in an
+attempt upon the life of the Bey at Nazareth--"
+
+"What is the _falagy_?"
+
+"The bastinado. Beating with green rods--_asâyisi_."
+
+"On the soles of the feet. Oh--well! One's often heard of that,
+hasn't one?"
+
+"_Schlemihl!_ Are there not beatings and beatings? The _asâyisi_ to
+punish--the _asâyisi_ to maim and torture! The _asâyisi_ until there
+is no shape of humanity left in the body, and even the mother of the
+man would not know the putrid mass of bloody flesh for the child she
+bore and bred! So thy cousin Elias died. And after that there was
+no peace for the house of thy grandfather Eli. His son Amos, and
+Shemuel,--the second son of Amos,--were mobilised to go south with
+Labour Corps of Jews and Syrians.... Digging trenches for the Turks
+to hold the railway at El Arish, they dug their own graves, upon them
+be peace! The two sons of their sister Sara were taken prisoner by
+the British at Kantara, and related their story, and were kindly
+used. They joined the Zion Mule Corps and went to Gallipoli.
+Perhaps they live, perhaps they met their deaths--carrying ammunition
+under shell-fire on the Peninsula! But they are the sons of
+daughters--not the sons of sons! To make an end--being warned that
+the vengeance of Hamid was to fall upon his house, thy Uncle
+Isaac--the father of Esther and Jacob--took the child that remained
+to him, even Benjamin, his darling--who was not of age to serve,--and
+with money and papers hidden upon them, the two escaped in disguise.
+I will not tell you after what fashion--but wives and mothers are
+cunning at these deceits when their dear ones are in danger!--and
+father and son arrived in safety at Beirut."
+
+"And did they get away?"
+
+"Woe, woe! Isaac was recognised by the Turkish wharf-inspector even
+as he lifted the boy into the boat that was to take them to the
+American steamer. They were dragged to prison--they died in prison,
+and that last blow slew your grandfather. Peace,--peace upon them
+all! The wives of Amos and Isaac live still, and two of Amos's
+daughters; but what are women to a house that needs sons that are
+begotten of sons! Now that the old man's white hairs have been
+brought to the grave by sorrow, the house of Eli Hazaël is
+represented by whom?" Mendel blew his nose sonorously and finished:
+"Whom but your brother Maurice and yourself!"
+
+John was conscious at the back of his mind of a tingle of eager--let
+us call it expectation. He asked, carefully divesting his tone of
+excitement in any undue degree.
+
+"Do I understand that--there's money in this business?"
+
+"There is much property, both in land south of Mount Carmel, and in
+the export business-houses at Alexandria, and at Jaffa and elsewhere.
+There is money lying at the _Crédit Lyonnais_," John's black eyes
+kindled. "Also at the _Deütsche Palästina_ Bank Branch at
+Jaffa,"--John whistled dismally--"and the Anglo-Palestine Banking
+Co."--John blew a sigh of relief. "And there is the stewardship of
+the olive-groves and vineyards of Kir Saba--the title-deeds of which
+property (the original mortgage on it having now expired, and the sum
+lent having been recovered, with the interest)--must--this is the
+word of your grandfather!--be formally given over to those to whom it
+rightfully belongs. Here! Take the documents! Thou hast the ring
+aready!"
+
+Mendel jumped up quite briskly, and deposited a double-handful of
+documents, account-books and bank pass-books of foreign appearance
+and exotic odour, in the hollow where the coverlet dipped between
+John Hazel's knees.
+
+"A copy of your grandfather's Will is with them--" He picked out a
+long, tough, yellow envelope, directed in a round Levantine
+banking-house handwriting to "John Ben Hazaël, Esquire, London,
+England," and resumed: "This is it. The original is in the keeping
+of the old gentleman's solicitors, 'Abel Manasseh, Ephraim & Co., Rue
+Jerusalem, Jaffa.' Reuben,--who brought the news and the papers!--is
+the junior partner in the firm. There's a holograph letter from your
+grandfather, peace be upon him! written in Hebrew--and a sheet with a
+translation I have made for you, seeing that you, Eli Hazaël's heir,
+know nothing of the Holy Tongue!"
+
+"His heir! ... Look here! ... You ain't talking through your hat when
+you say there's a goodish property?"
+
+"Your English slang sounds unto me as Hebrew to you, a mere gibberish
+without sense or meaning!"--Mendel shook off the large, loose grip of
+the young man from his arm. "The Sons of Perdition--the Turks!--have
+wasted and spoiled much land that lay under cultivation; and the
+wine-vaults of the Colonies have been gutted, by those of them who
+break the Law of their Prophet,--and also by their German Allies.
+Also, of the money in the Deütsche Palästina little, if any, may be
+recovered now. But, despite this, and the provision for the females
+living--there is still a great property! Supposing three hundred and
+eighty thousand pounds British," the glowing eyes were watching
+John's face narrowly: "is enough to make it worth your while to live
+as a good Jew?"
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+"What? ... Who? ... Me! ... Great Moses in the Bulrushes!" ...
+
+"Profane not the name of the Lawgiver," said Mendel sternly. "Is it
+not reasonable that the father of your father should desire you to
+cast off your Epicureanism, take upon you the Yoke of the Torah, and
+cease to become a sinner in Israel?"
+
+"Reasonable--from his point of view! But--Me kiss a Mezuzah nailed
+on the doorpost, and reel off long prayers in a synagogue with my hat
+on--and my head wrapped in a shawl!"
+
+"The Orthodox would respect instead of despising you."
+
+"But my own set! What price they, I should like to know?"
+
+"Their price--do you ask their price?" The fierce eyes flashed, the
+beaky nose looked capable of pecking. "For half of the great sum
+that is in question, there are not three among your associates--lewd
+men and loose women!--that would not kiss the buttocks of the Goat of
+Mendes, and spit upon the Cross! For they are not even Christians.
+They are as the brutes that perish. And you--another brute!--plant
+your hoofs and lay your ears back--and bite at the hand that tries to
+pluck you by the garment back from the brink of the bottomless Abyss!"
+
+"Look here! ..."
+
+Under the accusing glare of Mendel's little red-hot eyes, various
+deviations from the straight path of morality condoned by John as
+natural and even pardonable,--assumed a much less harmless character,
+and even took on an ugly and sinister hue....
+
+Since John Hazel had left school at the age of eighteen, a string of
+young women of garish attractions and uncommonly easy
+virtue,--flaunting blossoms plucked by the wayside--in the City or
+the West End--had succeeded one another in his temporary affections.
+There had been several more or less quite serious entanglements, one
+of which had threatened to effloresce in a Divorce Case, but
+fortunately had not. There had been--previous to John's
+engagement--numberless rather rowdy jaunts; all-night Launch Parties;
+excursions to Pleasure Resorts: Seaside-hotel,
+Thames-side-hostelry-Saturday-to-Mondays,--enjoyed by John as member
+of an association, small, select, eclectic, expensive; rather
+artistic, decidedly sporting; semi-literary, slightly theatrical and
+wholly Bohemian in character,--rejoicing in the title of the
+Cocky-Locky and Henny-Penny Club.
+
+Not so out-and-out Improper, these gay and giddy galas.... Of course
+you couldn't take your mother to them! but you could, with a little
+careful editing, tell her amusing stories about them--now and then.
+
+It was at a symposium of Club members, assembled at a riverside
+hostelry in the summer of 1913, that John had encountered Birdie
+Bright. Ostensibly a Beauty of the Chorus, Birdie, a young person of
+lowly origin, pronounced good looks, accommodating affections and
+expensive tastes in jewelry, furs, sweets and _lingerie_, had played
+the part of Zobeide to John's Harûn Er Raschid--practically until the
+arrival of Beryl on the scene.
+
+She had vowed herself "broaken harted" in several despairing letters,
+written in an immense angular hand in ink of vivid green, upon sheets
+of pink ribbed note. But John had been generous--even Birdie
+admitted it!--as she took his advice, and put away the consolatory
+wad of crisp ten-pound notes that had sweetened the bitterness of
+parting, carefully in the Brixton Branch of a solid and reliable Bank.
+
+Since Beryl's heartless breakage of her betrothal vows, the image of
+Miss Birdie Bright, previously effaced from the surface of John's
+heart, had revived in all its pristine charm through the whitewash
+that had coated it. To a letter from John in Hospital, Birdie had
+effusively responded--in passionate purple ink this time,--and in a
+bigger hand-writing than ever. The telegram appointing a day and an
+hour for her visit to her erstwhile lover's bedside was written, and
+wrapped round a half-crown in the pocket of his pyjama-jacket, in
+readiness for despatch.
+
+That wire would have been sent an hour ago--had not the convalescent
+Sapper of Engineers--to whom belonged the next bed--gone off in such
+a hurry to the Pictures with his young woman that he forgot--and now
+Birdie would never get it! Nor would the letter enclosing John's
+cheque, soliciting from the Secretary of the Cocky-Locky and
+Henny-Penny Club, re-election as a member of that interesting
+association, ever be posted now....
+
+Seen through the stern medium of Old Mendel's spectacles, the
+periodical revels of the C.L.H.P. took on a tinge of
+hellishness--became a very Witches' Sabbat. And Birdie, viewed
+through the same merciless, unsparing lenses, became even as one of
+the harpies that devour young men and lead them in the Way of
+Destruction.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+"And what more is required of you, young man," the harsh voice went
+on croaking, "in return for this fortune, than to carry out the
+instructions of your elders: to follow cleanliness; to do justly; to
+love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God! But I have done. Time
+does not avail for more. Study what is written on that paper I have
+pinned within the letter in Hebrew. I am old, and the fountain of my
+tears is dry, but mine eyes were moistened when the good old man
+entreated of his last descendant--even with his foot upon the
+threshold of Death.... Stay, I will read to you his letter. Listen
+to this!"
+
+
+"_John, son of John, my youngest and best-beloved! All thine elders
+being removed by the Will of the Most High, it falls to thee to take
+upon thee the Guardianship of the Sacred Ashes, and the Keeping of
+the Ancient Shrine. Thou wilt not refuse? Oh, child of my
+child!--the hand that pens this page, before my very eyes into the
+dust is crumbling. Wouldst thou live as long? Then be dutiful.
+Wouldst thou be happy? Happiness is the gift of Heaven, but a good
+conscience brings peace. Seek then the peace, and happiness will
+follow. If the dying prayer of an old man is granted, Those Others
+that have been before me may be permitted to guide thee in the Way
+wherein thou shouldst go. Farewell! Forget not to say Kaddish for
+thy father's father;--Eli Ben Hazaël._"
+
+
+The voice: not Old Mendel's croak, but a deep voice rolling out of
+the mist of centuries, wakening sub-conscious memories, thrilling
+along the nerves to energise long-atrophied cells in the listener's
+brain, ceased: and the icy thrills left off coursing down John
+Hazel's spinal column, and his strong, wiry hair left off bristling
+and lay down. The paper crackled as it was thrust once more into the
+envelope, and tossed back upon John's lap. John said, clearing his
+throat and speaking with some degree of huskiness:
+
+"I don't quite tumble to the meaning of all this about the
+Guardianship of the Ashes and the Keeping of the Shrine, but, of
+course, I'd say Kaddish for him--like a bird--if I knew it! I'm not
+quite such a howling brute as you seem to think! Didn't you make me
+say it for my father when I was a little kid in petticoats? I seem
+to remember something of the kind."
+
+"Well, if I did, was it not a good deed? But now that you are man
+grown you have cast off the faith of your fathers. And Kaddish
+cannot lawfully be said by one who is not a Jew! When you have made
+up your mind whether you will be a rich Jew--or a heathen no better
+off than many others--write to me at your uncle's Hull address!"
+Mendel, who had resumed his seat, snapped his mouth shut, and snapped
+shut the calfskin bag--and stood up and went on--in the act of
+buttoning the single-breasted brown great-coat. "As to the Shrine,
+it's at Alexandria, and the Ashes are naturally where the Shrine
+is--not that I've any information to give you on that point. But the
+other--less sacred obligation--you may discharge as soon as you see
+fit. The accounts and the documents touching Kir Saba--some of them
+are very old and should be handled carefully!--must be taken to
+Scotland and delivered to the representatives of the original
+mortgagor, whose address is there written--by no other hands than
+your own. A gift of five hundred pounds English has been bequeathed
+you by your grandfather,--without further condition than that you
+render him this service. The cash will be paid you by a cheque upon
+London as soon as I receive the receipt for the documents. You will
+naturally not part with them without receiving this acknowledgment.
+Take care! Haven't I warned you?"
+
+John's big fingers were prying into a flat wallet of mouldy parchment
+sewn with something like ancient silkworm-gut, and containing an
+oblong of crumbly brown....
+
+"What on earth is it? ... It looks like seaweed.... Or an old felt
+sole out of somebody's boot! ..."
+
+"It is the original Title Deed of the Tower of Kirjath Saba and the
+lands about it, granted by the Emperor Vespasian to the Tribune
+Justus Martius, of the Tenth Roman Legion: on the tenth day of the
+month of Ab--that is, August, in the second year of his reign."
+
+"My holy hat! That was Anno Domini 70, when the Romans under Titus
+took the Temple at Jerusalem and burnt--"
+
+"Not burned but demolished, according to Josephus--the walls of the
+Upper City alone being left standing--to shelter the garrison chosen
+from the Roman Tenth Legion!--together with the three great towers
+built by Herod--in order to demonstrate to Posterity how glorious a
+city had been cast down.... Woe! for the madness and the wickedness
+of the Pagans. Alas! for the Sacred City, a chattel in the hands of
+the filthy unbeliever even to this day! Who shall restore the glory
+of Jerusalem, or give back life to the dead place, or cleanse the
+robe of snowy wool that hath been defiled by pitch?"
+
+"I've heard you reel off things like this before, haven't I, when I
+was a little beggar? I say! Do you know this rotten old sheepskin
+is pretty well priceless? Why, it's about one thousand eight hundred
+and forty-five years old! Those Johnnies at the British Museum would
+hand over a pot of cash for it."
+
+"Have I not told you to lose no time in returning the document to its
+owner? Let him deal with it as he will! There is another parchment,
+the original Deed of Mortgage dated in your Christian Era 1146.
+Money was lent by Issachar Ben Hazaël, of Joppa (they spell it
+'Jaffa' in these days)--to the Mortgagor, Sir Hugh Forbys, (they
+write his name 'Hew'), Knight, and lord of the Strong Tower of Kir
+Saba, in return for the right of user of the Tower, with its groves,
+gardens, springs and vineyards; and all the 'purtnans' for the 'makyn
+of wine.' When the cash with the interest, should be recovered, the
+Title-Deed was to be given back to Forbys.... These later records
+continue unbroken up to the June of the Christian year 1914. Examine
+them at your leisure. They are faithfully translated and clearly
+typed."
+
+John answered and said unto the aged man, not being unmindful of the
+bequest of £500.
+
+"You make my head spin, chuckling about centuries as though they were
+marbles! But I give you my word of honour, I'll swot all the
+documents up. When have I to go down to hand them over to these
+Scotch people? ... I suppose they do have some sort of a name?" ...
+
+"They are a family of high repute and ancient standing on the Border.
+The Forbis of Kerr's Arbour, Tweedburgh, N.B. Have you at any time
+heard of them?"
+
+"Never in my natural! They seem to have been thunderingly pally with
+us Hazels somewhere about the Bronze Age.... Do you know 'em at
+all?" ...
+
+"Ask not foolish questions. What are the people to me? For a reason
+that the documents will clearly explain to you, they have had no
+intercourse with your family since the time of the Seventh Crusade."
+
+"I wonder whether they'll be likely to know me when they see me?"
+
+"Be not a Schlemihl! Where is the ring?"
+
+"Which ring? You know, my head is fairly buzzing with all this
+business! ... You've dropped on me like a sandbag out of an
+Observation Rupert. Here--I've got it! Some ring!" ...
+
+"It is a black onyx, a Greek gem of price, carved with a head of the
+Pagan Hercules and in an ancient setting of gold. It was given to
+your ancestor, Hazaël Aben Hazaël, by the Roman Prætor Philoremus
+Florens Fabius, at Alexandria, in the reign of the Pagan Emperors
+Diocletian and Maximianus--about the beginning of the fourth century
+of the Christian Era." Mendel added as John groaned again at this
+fresh evidence of antiquity, "This signet now belongs to you as head
+of the House of Hazaël. Let me see you put it on the third finger of
+your right hand!"
+
+John obeyed. The great ring fitted the big finger as though it had
+been made for it. The intaglio, worn thin by time and chipped at the
+edges, was still beautiful, and though the tiny Greek letters at the
+lower left-hand corner signified nothing to its new owner--the signed
+work of a master-hand. John commented:
+
+"He must have been a hefty chap, that old Hazaël!"
+
+Mendel responded, buttoning up the brown overcoat:
+
+"Your race have always been noted for breeding men of extraordinary
+strength and stature. There is a fellow-ring to this, I am given to
+understand, in the possession of the Forbis family. It is in high
+relief, this being the intaglio. Remember, you will bequeath the
+signet to your elder son, after you: as an heirloom which must always
+be in the possession of the chief male of the line."
+
+"Carrying on as though one was Rob Roy M'Gregor," John remarked
+mentally. Then as Mendel made a strangle-knot in the purple woollen
+comforter, adjusted his mittens and was about to re-lock the brown
+bag:
+
+"Here," he said suddenly, "you had better keep this for putting those
+papers in. Can't leave them lying about on the bed! It's a bit old,
+like me, and the worse for wear, like both of us. But I shan't
+improve, and you're getting over the wound you got"--he jerked his
+thumb as indicating a locality,--"over there. In the trenches. In
+Belgium."
+
+John explained at some length, Mendel seeming to expect it--that the
+bit of shrapnel in his lung-tissue was of exceedingly small size.
+That the symptoms of slight pain and breathlessness which had
+persisted long after the healing of the chest-wound, had almost
+vanished under treatment which had involved absolute rest: the
+avoidance of talking; a sitting position maintained constantly, and
+small but frequent doses of morphia.
+
+"Morphia, eh? Dangerous stuff. Done with it now, let's hope!" said
+Mendel jerkily. "Put back the papers in the bag when I've gone, and
+mind you always keep it locked! Look here!--I've left you the key.
+And so you're convalescent!" He went on in quite a different tone,
+suggesting that he had only dropped in to inquire about the patient's
+health about five minutes previously: "Well, well! And going out of
+Hospital in another week--I think you said?"
+
+"Not quite that, I didn't say!" pronounced John in his English. "The
+C.M.O. pronounces me Posh, and the Military Medical Examination
+Board'll be sure to certify me Fit for Service. I expect to be
+drafted out to the Mediterranean pretty shortly--my battalion of the
+Regiment having got transferred to the Eastern Expeditionary Force."
+
+"Say not to Gallipoli, that shambles whither British soldiers are
+sent as sheep to the slaughter! Stay, I babble foolishly! Have I
+not knowledge that the British forces were yesterday withdrawn?"
+
+"The hell you have! Why, where did you get it?"
+
+"I made no reference to the Place of Burning. As to my knowledge, it
+is common to the elders among our people: a nation that received
+enlightenment from the Most High in dreams and visions, when the
+naked woad-daubed savages of these British Isles were howling to the
+Moon.... Make not calf's eyes at me! ... Did not naked savages cry
+news for hundreds of miles from hill-top to hill-top in the War with
+the Booren!--and was not the murder of the Gentile General Gordon at
+Khartoum known within the hour to the idolaters in Damascus! What I
+tell you is--there is no doubt at all!"
+
+"But--but--they don't say a word about it in the papers!"
+
+"_Prrtsch_! Is not that what the papers are for? And now, when do
+you think to get back to business? I mean business in the City--not
+that of killing other men. Though, as to the slaying of enemies,"
+added Mendel, with strange yellow fire burning under his shaggy
+eyebrows, "the Kings and warriors of Hebrew race have slain when
+slaying was necessary. Saul his thousands and David his tens of
+thousands and Joshua--who knows how many hundreds of thousands of the
+Amorites and Canaanites! Nay, in your own veins there runs the blood
+of famous men of battle. You should inherit, with your frame and
+muscles, a measure of their fighting blood."
+
+"Can that be why I sing whenever there's a scrap on?" asked John,
+reflectively rubbing his ear.
+
+"When scraps are on what? Tell me again, employing plainer
+language," acidly commanded the old man.
+
+"I mean, when I've--not often it's not been--worse luck!" returned
+the young man in his slipshod grammar, "but now and then--come really
+to close quarters with the--the enemy, you know." ...
+
+"The Germans? Have no fear!--I am a Damascus Jew and not an Hebrew
+of the Ashkenazim.... It matters not a _yod_ to me how many you have
+killed. What is this about singing--when do you sing?"
+
+John scowled and the dark red flush began to creep up under his dull
+brown skin. He said gruffly, avoiding the inquisitive old eyes that
+raked him, by looking past the edge of his sole remaining screen down
+the vista of the long, clean, shining ward, at the big fire blazing
+in a deep old-fashoined grate....
+
+"Why, at first when I went to the Front--no amount of stabbing
+stuffed sacks and shooting at dummy men--and bombing
+others--could"--his prominent Adam's apple jumped as he gulped, and
+his speech came from him in spurts of broken sentences--"bring me to
+swallow the idea of--killing them. Well!--first two hours of the
+Real Thing--I was sick and cold with sheer fright--just gibbering
+with horror! Then we advanced, went in with the bayonet--and
+I--began to like it, quite! Though when--some of us--got back and I
+saw--a--a--Hair and a--a--Blood on my--on mine!--that I'd got to
+clean off or get Hell from the Sergeant!--I was as sick--I give you
+my word!--as a chap who's been ordered to drink a tin-cupful of
+cold-drawn castor without a bit o' lemon to chew. Well, then, you
+see, as I was retching, comes along the N.C.O. and hands me out some
+chaff! 'Sick now bedad!' he was a wiry little Irishman, with a
+brogue thicker than the mud--'Sick, are ye?--the big bucko that was
+singin' as he hoisted Huns to glory wid the Haymaker's Lift!' Well,
+of course I thought the beggar was joking--but next time--"
+
+"Ay, yea!--what happened the next time?"
+
+Old Mendel rubbed his withered hands and smiling widely, revealed the
+fact that his still sound and white teeth were worn down quite level
+with the gums.
+
+"Next time? ..."
+
+"Next time was--rather a personal affair. Mind you--I've never
+talked about this to any other Service fellow. There's something
+different about their point of view. It was in March last--we'd been
+doing reserves at Richebourg St. V.--in the Neuve St. Chapelle
+racket, and after the battle we were taking our turn in the
+front-line trenches and making barricades! Shooting, you may guess,
+for all we were worth, and Fritz was handing it back with the Mauser,
+besides throwing 15 and 17-inch shells at us and enfilading our
+parapet with sprays of bullets from one of their machine-guns. The
+air was full of bangs and squeals and whistles, and every minute men
+were toppling over: and the fellow on my right was a pal of mine:
+we'd chummed up together like--a--like bricks! Well, there was a
+badly wounded German near, lying outside in the thick of it.
+Harding--my chum--put down his gun, gave me a wink--went over the
+top--sniped at like anything!--brought the lousy beggar back--gave
+him a drink,--put a coat under his head: and stowed him away behind
+us at the bottom of the trench, to wait for the stretcher-bearers.
+Then he came back to his place by me, loaded and went on shooting."
+
+"And then?"
+
+"Then, he--my pal--Harding--started rotting in his usual way; and I'd
+just said to him in my usual way, 'Do dry up, you silly, brainless
+lunatic!' when a revolver banged behind us, and Harding fell over on
+me, and I was all one smother with blood and brains--_his_! When I'd
+just told him he hadn't--you see the point of it?" John's mouth was
+stretched in laughter, but he shuddered as though cold.
+
+"He--" Old Mendel's eyes were fierce under their bushy brows as he
+nodded, saying:
+
+"_Day--day_! ... It does not need to be more plain. I understand
+thee clearly. The German lying at the bottom of the trench had shot
+the man who brought him in, through the head, from behind.... We
+have wolves in the Anti-Lebanon--and when taken they will fight to
+the death.... It is wisest to despatch them at once with the loaded
+club, whenever you find them trapped. But what didst thou do to thy
+wolf, O David! when the blood of thy Jonathan was wet upon thee?"
+
+"I--went for the brute with the butt,--like mad!--and bashed him into
+jelly." John shuddered and felt for his handkerchief and mopped his
+face and neck. "He shot at me--twice--and nearly got me, but I--just
+bashed on!"
+
+"And didst thou sing as thou didst smite?"
+
+"They--they said--when they got me away, and it took a lot to hold
+me!--they said I talked a gibberish that nobody could understand."
+
+"But I--possibly--might have understood it!" Old Mendel nodded
+knowingly and briskly rubbed his hands. "Well, well?"
+
+"Well, after that I made no bones about killing Germans. There were
+nights when I used to creep out of the trench (nights when there was
+nothing much doing) with a white cotton Pierrot's costume I'd picked
+up pulled over my khaki, because of the star-shell showing me up dark
+against the snow--and until the enemy got too knowing, I made quite a
+bag every week--of Lonely Fritzes on Advanced Posts. Fellows began
+to look at me rather queerly. I think I'd got a name for being a
+bloodthirsty kind of beast. And the officers of my platoon'd say to
+a man who was noisy and wanting in caution: 'If you let a cheep out
+of you, So-and-so, during such and such an expedition--I'll tell
+Hazel to kill you!' and he'd shut up--tight as a box."
+
+"Aha!" Mendel hugged himself with his stiff brown sleeves and
+chuckled. "I, Jew of Damascus as I am, do not wonder!--do not
+wonder, knowing the stuff of which thy forefathers were made! Now I
+should depart, for we have talked much, and the young woman in
+starched linen is nodding at me and frowning. We Jews daily thank
+the Creator that He did not make us women: but when there comes
+pestilence, or War with wounds and fever, He cannot make too many
+women to satisfy us! Now is there anything more to ask before I
+leave you?"
+
+"Nothing, I--Here, hold on for half a mo'! There is a question. If
+I stick to my guns and don't turn Hebrew, what becomes of my
+grandfather's cash?"
+
+"Provision in the event you name is duly made in the Will. The three
+hundred and eighty thousand pounds will go to found an Orthodox Jews
+University that is to be built near Jerusalem--the money being vested
+in the hands of certain Trustees. There are three Trustees. Lord
+----, Sir Arthur ---- and Professor ----" the speaker named three
+names of power--not only in Israel:--"but you will not let the money
+go to found the University. _Shalôm!_ Is that not all?"
+
+"All--except that I've not yet asked after my Uncle Benjamin Simonoff
+at Hull."
+
+"Thy Uncle Benjamin prospers exceedingly. Trade failed with Russia
+when the North Sea Ports were closed; but the warehouses were
+full--and Government paid much money for tallow, tar, green hides and
+tanned skins. Benjamin is enlisted in a Home Defence Corps, and both
+his sons are on the sea, serving in converted Hull trawlers. They
+sweep for mines, set snares for what they call 'tin fish' and seem
+content with life.... Woman, I have said that I am departing! Had I
+not, it is not seemly for your sex to thrust themselves into the
+private talk of men!"
+
+"But you've been here already over an hour, and the doctors--"
+
+The Ward Sister had swept down on him:
+
+"I go, I go! ... Nay, but, look to the boy! He is swooning! ... Woe
+to me! heedless and forgetful of his weakness.... I thought but of
+confuting the errors of an Epicurean--and lo! I have injured the
+child I loved!"
+
+John, struggling in the clutches of a return-attack of
+breathlessness, propped up high against hard pillows, tried to tell
+Old Mendel not to bother, that he, John, was as right as nine-pence,
+or would be in the shake of a guinea-pig's tail. But the words were
+lost in suffocating gasps and pantings; from which, administered by
+Nurse's skilful hands, the prick of a subcutaneous injection of
+morphia presently delivered him....
+
+The semi-relapse entailed another fortnight in Hospital: its tedium
+infinitely relieved by the fulfilment of John's promise to swot over
+the documents and papers in the bag. Which contained, besides a pair
+of well-darned spare socks, and a clean blue-spotted handkerchief of
+Mendel's, a bag of brown peppermint-rock, of the highly-flavoured
+kind most fondly associated by John Hazel with the blameless days of
+infancy. Alas! that the writer should be bound to the Wheel of Truth
+as concerning this young man, so unheroic a hero. As soon as he was
+well enough, he ate it all up.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+Three weeks at a Soldier's Seaside Convalescent Home on the outskirts
+of a West Coast Winter resort, intervened before John's return to
+Campden Hill Terrace.
+
+It had been strange to recognise upon his mother's cheerful,
+well-preserved comeliness the strained and sharpened look that is the
+stamp of War upon the human countenance. Maurice--who was later on
+to develop into a mechanic-private in what was then the Royal Flying
+Corps--the chrysalis or pupa-stage of ultimate transformation into a
+Lieutenant-Pilot--was Overseas at an Advance Depot of the A.S.C. and
+didn't write punctually. And the double-fronted millinery and
+florist's business in Dove Street was languishing. Fruit and flowers
+were only bought to be sent on to the Wounded in the Hospitals.
+Nobody wanted ravishing hats when the men the hats were meant to slay
+were being killed in the trenches; besides, British women were all
+agreed by now that in War-time some kind of uniform was the only
+possible wear. So Lady Delphinia had departed to France to open a
+Hostel for Officers at one of the Allied Bases, and the huge
+benevolent octopus of Organised Activity had enveloped within its
+tentacles Mrs. Hazel and her set. They spent their days strenuously
+at various West End Centres, in making every imaginable aid,--from
+list slippers to body belts, from artificial legs and arms to
+life-saving waistcoats--for the Fleet and the Forces; and if they
+took comfort from the knowledge that their neighbours at the
+trestle-tables in the crowded work-rooms were occasionally Duchesses,
+who shall grudge John's mother and her intimates the gratification
+they derived from this fact!
+
+Of the visit of Mendel Bartoth to the Hospital at Colthill, John said
+nothing to his mother. After all, it was his affair. His and
+Maurice's--because it was provided under the conditions of the Will
+of Eli Hazaël that, should the elder of the two surviving male
+representatives of his House decline to adopt the Judaism of his
+forefathers (and incidentally forfeit a sum of £380,000), the younger
+should be offered the fortune thus foregone.
+
+Justice and wisdom went to the making of the Will, with consideration
+and magnanimity. John was to have two years clear in which to make
+up his mind. In the meanwhile, there was the acceptable sum of £500
+to be earned by taking a run up North as soon as his health was
+sufficiently restored.
+
+Consequently upon a bitter grey-white morning in the February of
+1916, Private John Hazel found himself seated in a grimy third-class
+compartment of the Kelso Express, steaming out of a vast and murky
+London terminus, upon the strangest errand of his life.
+
+The thing was real. He might have dreamed old Mendel: but that there
+could be no doubt in face of all those proofs. The typewritten
+papers and the queer crumbly parchments were in the brown calfskin
+bag beside him. And, queerest of all, the ring: the intaglio of the
+bust of Hercules in black onyx in its ancient setting of pale
+greenish gold, incredibly battered, was on the third finger of his
+big left hand....
+
+He squeezed the back sheet of his _Pall Mall Gazette_ into a ball,
+observant of the inferior quality of the paper--cleared away the
+clammy fog and grime that obscured the window next him--and settled
+down to read the News.
+
+Front after front had burst into roaring flame; the brown shuttle of
+the Army and the dark blue shuttle of the Navy, driven back and forth
+with dizzying rapidity, wove the bloody web of War upon the loom of
+Fate daily, hourly, momentarily....
+
+Sir Douglas Haig had succeeded Sir John French in command of our
+Forces in France in the previous December. De Wet and other South
+Africans had been pardoned. General Smuts had been appointed to
+command in East Africa; the Germans had been repulsed at Loos, a
+Zeppelin raid on Paris had twice been unsuccessfully attempted; the
+Senussi Arabs had been beaten in West Egypt, the Kut Relief Force
+were at grips with the Turkish forces;--France was fighting superbly
+to hold Vimy Ridge her own. And the Military Service Bill was
+effective in Great Britain; and the final act of the Evacuation,
+ringing down the curtain on the unsuccessful tragedy of the Gallipoli
+Peninsula was fading from the minds of men.... A bad, bad business!
+John commented mentally. He wished the Blooming Bungler who was
+responsible for all that waste of blood and prestige and money could
+be jammed into a British trench-mortar of the old-fashioned,
+big-bellied, Jumbo pattern--and biffed--say 450 yards--into the
+Turkish lines! And then he fell to staring at the women in blue
+overalls not innocent of grease, with the initials of the Railway
+Company in braid that was no longer white--and blue caps with shiny
+peaks and white braid badges. And the other women who tapped and
+greased wheels, and rattled along luggage trucks, and trolleys of
+lamps and foot-warmers;--not forgetting yet other women in dark blue
+serge uniforms with bright steel buttons, who had clipped his ticket
+for Scotland when he passed the Barrier.
+
+For London was astonishingly altered by the War. Not only by the
+temporary War Constructions, the Specials, and the sand-bagging and
+wire-netting of public and private buildings: not only by glassless
+windows--shattered walls and holes in the concrete pavement,--wounds
+torn by High Explosive bombs dropped by Zeppelins and Gothas on the
+grey breast of the City, that in John Hazel's estimation was built
+about the hub of the world. The most remarkable of all the
+War-changes was in the women. In Belgium and France the women young
+and old had done men's work, and sometimes looked as though they
+enjoyed doing it. Somehow one expected it of Continental womanhood.
+But that British womanhood should conduct trams and omnibuses in dark
+grey jackets with black leather buttons and belts, short skirts to
+suit, and black leather gaiters, slouch hats or shiny-peaked
+caps,--intrigued John Hazel wonderfully. A young woman had driven
+him to King's Cross from Campden Hill, smart and business-like in a
+yellow oilskin coat, peaked yellow oilskin cap--_toujours_ the peaked
+cap--big leathern gauntlet-gloves, strap-satchel and general air of
+confident competency.... She had not overcharged: and had thrust
+back John's proffered _douceur_ with the succinct statement: "We
+don't take tips from soldiers, _these_ days!"
+
+And whizzed smoothly out of John Hazel's ken, leaving the young man
+standing staring after her, with the calfskin bag in one hand and a
+suit-case in the other; amidst the very audible smiles of the
+lady-porters and luggage-clerks.
+
+The door of the compartment opened at this juncture, admitting a
+drab-faced elderly woman in greasy blue overalls. With a grimy
+duster she flapped the seats of the comfortless third-class, raising
+a cloud of cindery dust that made the sole passenger sneeze; whisked
+a collection of orange-peel, nut-shells, toffee-papers and
+"Puss-Puss!" and "Woodbine" cigarette wrappers under the opposite
+seat, and fell out again over John Hazel's boots, leaving the
+atmosphere murkier than ever.
+
+Fear--the acquired fear of encountering the glare of a Sergeant, or
+the chilly stare of the wearer of a Sam Browne, had hitherto arrested
+the hand of the Junior Partner in the thriving Cornhill firm of
+Dannahill, Lee-Levyson and Hazel, Insurance-brokers,--when it would
+fain have placed on the rubber pad of the Booking Office pigeon-hole,
+the fare for a First Class Return.
+
+But now, the prospect of a run of some three hundred and fifty odd
+miles North in captivity so grim, chilly and unsavoury, prompted a
+young man with muscles still soft from confinement to a Hospital bed,
+and the kindly coddling of Hospital Sisters,--and with the warning of
+the C.M.O. with regard to avoidance of bronchitis still fresh in
+mind,--to extract a soiled ten-shilling note or "pinky" from a
+pigskin wallet; to project the upper half of his big body from the
+carriage-window, and endeavour, not unsuccessfully, to catch the eye
+of the guard.
+
+"Na, na, nae Second Class. Ye'll have hearrd that ava' at the
+Booking Office!"
+
+The silver-braided functionary, checked momentarily in his stride by
+the appeal of an agitated old lady, presented his highly-dried and
+sandily-bearded countenance upon a level with the buttons of John's
+front tunic-pockets, and inclined a freckled ear to the young man's
+appeal. The answer came in the droning chant of Berwick:
+
+"Ye can pay the differ between the firr'st an' third-class--I'm no'
+for stopping ye. Though, ye ken, wi' ilka officer that gets in,
+ye'll rin the same risk!"
+
+"Of being turned out with a flea in my ear, you mean," returned John
+Hazel, not unobservant of the mahogany _reflet_ of certain Sam
+Brownes, isolated or in knots, upon the platform, in juxtaposition
+with open carriage-doors, or mingling with the scanty groups of
+would-be passengers under the arc-lights (camouflaged with blue
+paint) that cast false pallor on the freshest cheek, and made sickly
+faces masks of Death; and threw long purplish shadows of people and
+things (at angles suggestive of Futurist Art) upon the greasy
+asphalte of the Northern terminus....
+
+"O, ay! If ye're willin' to tak the risk...."
+
+The glitter of a certain medal on the Private's breast, and the shine
+of two parallel strips of gold braid upon his cuff, had caught the
+sharp grey eyes of the guard. He thrust back the offered note on the
+confounded John, leaped at his suitcase and tore it from the rack,
+and shepherded his huge charge through the clank and rattle and roll
+of luggage trucks, foot-warmer barrows, and lamp-trolleys, shouting:
+
+"Come awa' wi' you, man!--there's a firr'st weel forward, wi' a
+twa--three women-bodies that would gie guid skelps to the officer
+that daured look crookit at ony Tommy--forbye a lang black lad wi'
+the D.C.M.!"
+
+Thus John Hazel, suffering for once from an acute attack of
+bashfulness, found himself installed in a corner of a fairly-warmed
+if faintly-lighted first-class compartment, containing in addition to
+many cloaks, rugs, pillows, tea-baskets, and other cosy
+accompaniments of travel,--three ladies of uncertain ages, but very
+definite position in life,--also a Young Person of highly-coloured
+exotic charms, clamorously perfumed; whose crimson hair was
+surmounted by a French officer's tasselled _képi_, and who displayed,
+below marvellously abbreviated skirts, silk stockings of open
+trellis-work, ending in such boots of yellow leather with tinsel
+cross-laces as are commonly associated with Principal Boys in
+Pantomime....
+
+Of the three ladies, two carried the dark blue uniform of a Voluntary
+Aid Detachment of the British Red Cross Society and held officers'
+rank of sorts, for both were pipped. While the third, an incredibly
+tall, thin woman, with eyebrows arched and black as musical slurs,
+pale greenish-gold hair, a white, triangular face, and a V-shaped
+mouth as scarlet as a Pierrot's, wore upon her khaki sleeve the
+brassard of the Liberal Ladies' War Service Legion, with the lapel,
+shoulder and hat-badges distinctive of a Commandant.
+
+All three displayed the roughened hands and damaged finger-nails
+characteristic of British womanhood at this strenuous period. Theirs
+was the unabashed and frank regard, born of the calm self-confidence
+which springs--not from the conviction, but from the established fact
+of being Somebody in Society. All three were loud of voice, long of
+limb, easy if abrupt of movement: prone to discuss their own and
+their friends' private affairs in the presence of strangers; as
+though the man or woman in the corner, palpably an alien from Their
+Set, must in consequence be deaf and dumb.
+
+"Howling swells!" was John Hazel's pithy mental comment, recognising
+upon three of his fellow-travellers the unmistakable cachet of Good
+Society. "The Mums," he reflected, rather wistfully--one of the Nice
+Things about John was his belief in his mother--"the Mums would be in
+her element here!" And he leaned luxuriously back upon a plump
+cushion that one of the V.A.D. ladies had deftly thrust behind him,
+in the corner that had been unostentatiously vacated when the big
+young man, with hollow black eyes and prominent cheek-bones, and
+khaki baggily hanging upon a huge frame wasted by hæmorrhage and
+strict dietary, had heaved in sight. And the Commandant handed him
+the day's issue of an expensive _Illustrated Society_; saying, with a
+characteristic emphasis suggestive of large capitals:
+
+"Of course, I really don't believe you'll Cotton Much to this, but it
+may get you over an hour! Pass it on to somebody else when you've
+done--I Don't want it back!"
+
+She nodded smilingly in acknowledgment of Hazel's gratitude, and the
+young person in the gilt-tasselled French _képi_ followed suit by
+giving John the current number of "_Frillies_," a purely feminine
+publication--devoted to the puffing of silk pyjamas and embroidered
+underwear, with Piffel Pearls (warranted to outshine real ones) and
+Face Creams guaranteed to remove Complexion Blemishes contracted at
+Munition Factories, or in Labour on the Land....
+
+Then she suddenly saw a friend, seized her handbag and suit-case, and
+departed on the corridor-side of the compartment in a gale of violent
+perfume. John opened the sliding-door, shut the same on her
+departure; pulled up his rug and began to sip the honeyed sweetness
+of "Loveliness in Lingerie," and the three ladies, as the savage tang
+of verbena died upon the air, unleashed their loud, high voices
+apparently upon the trail of some subject mooted before.
+
+"You have heard that Evelyn Graynger has consoled herself?" asked the
+startlingly thin woman in khaki, lifting her musical slurs of
+eyebrows towards the peak of her badged cap, from the back of which a
+short square veil depended, and momentarily glancing as she did this,
+at a three-inch band of black crape upon her left arm. "Though I am
+quite sure that the poor child _really_ did care for my poor Wastwood
+and my poor Jerry--you know she became engaged to Jerry not long
+after Wastwood--" She blinked and broke off.
+
+"Really! ..." the dark blue ladies chorused; and the elder exclaimed
+sympathetically.
+
+"How awfully difficult it must have made their mother's position!
+Didn't it, Trixie dear?"
+
+"Now Evelyn is going, I hear, to marry the popular Anglican preacher,
+Mr. Amice-Bellows," continued the khaki Commandant. "He likes to be
+called 'Father,' don't you know!--and has still a great many wealthy
+lady-penitents; never having felt any irresistible call to volunteer
+as a Chaplain accompanying Forces to the Front. He opens Soldiers'
+Refreshment Buffets with prayer, and figures on Red Cross Bazaar
+Committees, and visits wounded Tommies in Hospital and all that, and
+of course there must be people to do these things.... And they say
+he has a consoling manner with his clients--I should say
+Congregation--when they're knocked out by Bad News! Though I
+remember when the second bomb dropped,--I mean in the shape of
+another wire from the Casualty Department of the War Office--and I
+was rather off colour in consequence--he advised me to drink a pint
+of hot water regularly every morning with
+Bi--something-of-something-or-other stirred in."
+
+The two V.A.D. ladies shrieked. The triangular-faced Commandant in
+khaki continued, all unconscious that the illustrated periodical
+bestowed on John Hazel displayed her photograph, with the appended
+description:
+
+
+"Trixie, Lady Wastwood. Mother of the late, and aunt of the present
+Earl. Who has been doing splendid service as a Commandant of the
+Liberal Ladies' War Service Legion at one of our principal Bases in
+France, in adherence to the well-known motto of the Legion: _Do
+Anything, Go Anywhere, Stick at Nothing, and Never Grouse_!"
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"Well-meant"--the elder of the two blue women was speaking through
+her laughter, "but hardly tactful of Mr. Amice Bellows--to suggest
+that biliousness and bereavement produce symptoms practically the
+same!"
+
+"Anyhow," the khaki woman's laugh rattled out as though a stick had
+been drawn over the keys of a piano, "I took the parson's
+counsel--vicariously. Went down every day to Waterloo Station and
+poured tea and coffee into thirsty Tommies at a Soldiers' Free
+Refreshment Buffet--instead of irrigating myself. Found it swamped
+the blue devils quite as effectually. And"--she touched her khaki
+lightly--"that's how this--began. Same with both of you--I rather
+fancy?" ...
+
+
+"I entered as Probationer at St. Francis and St. Clara's after the
+Third Reserve Battalion of the Loyal North Linkshires got gassed at
+Ypres last Spring," said the younger of the V.A.D. women, who had
+also a mourning armlet, and could not have been older than twenty-two
+or three. "And I found scrubbing floors and carrying buckets
+better--oh!--miles better than all the veronal in all the chemists'
+shops."
+
+"I agree with Cynthia," said the other blue lady, "I think the V.A.D.
+was meant to keep the women who have lost their all from lying down
+and dying--or running _amok_. Hark! Was that a Take Cover?" ...
+
+A detonation in the distance had been followed by a wailing hoot of
+peculiar ugliness. Silence descended upon the Terminus. Most of the
+faces that turned to each other in inquiry, seemed to have suddenly
+been powdered white. The three women in John's carriage betrayed no
+emotion. They waited in silence, but no second detonation followed.
+And John Hazel said as his gaunt black eyes, met Lady Wastwood's,
+that were green and singularly brilliant:
+
+"I think the tyre of a motor-'bus burst--just before they sounded the
+dinner-hooter at some near-by factory. I know Longmore's Locust Bean
+chocolate used to be turned out at a place close here."
+
+All three women nodded and smiled in recognition of the soldier's
+civility. The hollows about his eyes, and under his cheek-bones, the
+bagginess of his khaki--in favour of which he had gratefully
+abandoned the suit of Reckitt's Blue flannel with white lapels, and
+the scarlet cotton necktie of Hospital wear, had--in combination with
+the medal and the wound-stripes, won him favour in their eyes....
+
+Lady Wastwood gave him another paper, a _Morning Post_, and the
+younger of the V.A.D.'s was following suit with a packet of
+chocolate, when the first starting-gong clangalanged,--the
+carriage-door was wrenched open, and a tall thin officer, followed by
+a porter carrying a Gladstone bag and tartan rug, was in the very act
+of entering when he encountered Lady Wastwood's glance....
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+Private Hazel had fainted in spirit at the sight of a Brass Hat, a
+double row of multi-coloured ribbons, and the badges of a
+Lieutenant-Colonel; and his ears had already begun to tingle with the
+expectation of official rebuke--when the officer, arrested in the
+stride of entrance on the brass-bound threshold of the Railway
+Company--reddened and paled as he saluted. His singularly unhappy
+grey eyes had met the eyes of Lady Wastwood. Freezing as green
+Arctic icicles, they held those of the victim in a hostile and
+repellent stare. Her mouth, devoid of its V-shaped Pierrot
+smile--straightened to a frigid line of sheerest disapproval. Her
+chin combined with the mouth and the eyes, in the admission that
+somewhere between sickened Earth and revolted Heaven a wretch like
+this dared to draw breath....
+
+The situation lasted one intolerable moment, its poignancy even
+penetrating John Hazel's pachydermatous hide. He found himself
+wincing in sympathy with the sufferer, whose lashed blood rose darkly
+under his clear nut-brown skin. Still, not a muscle twitched to
+betray him. His deep-set eyes ranged from face to face of the
+occupants of the carriage, searching for one gleam of sympathy,
+possibly. His mouth opened as though he would have spoken, then
+shut; and his face became as a granite mask. He saluted again
+formally, backed out, lightly jumped from the step, carefully shut
+the carriage-door, and walked away down the platform, the laden
+porter at his heels, as the two V.A.D. women exclaimed in shocked
+accents:
+
+"How _could_ you? ... Who is he?"
+
+"What _rows_ of decorations!"
+
+"And, _my dear_!--what can the man have done to deserve a cut like
+that?"
+
+They of the High Caste paid no heed to John, ambushed behind the
+current issue of _Frillies_, with both ears cocked for the name of
+the protagonist....
+
+"It is Edward Yaill," said Lady Wastwood, as though prefix and
+patronymic offended the palate, and blistered the reluctant organ of
+speech. "Colonel Edward Yaill. Of the --th Tweedburgh Regiment."
+
+The younger of the V.A.D. ladies exclaimed, as though in pain for him:
+
+"_The_ Colonel Yaill! ... That brave, unlucky man!"
+
+"And your County neighbour!" This from the elder blue lady, to whom
+Lady Wastwood returned:
+
+"Yes, when I happen to be in Scotland. But I so seldom am at
+Whingates now. However, since poor Jerry's successor made a point of
+my looking up his womanhood, I promised to run up there next time I
+felt washed out. Colonel Yaill was my fellow-passenger on the Boat
+for Boulogne one day last March.... Now again we encounter--rather
+unfortunately for him!"
+
+"Do, do forgive him, next time you tumble against him!" begged
+Yaill's previous champion.
+
+"Edward Yaill has had a sample," said Lady Wastwood icily, "of what
+he may expect from me in the near as in the distant future. Let us
+hope he will be wiser than to rush upon his doom. What wouldn't I
+have given to possess the Early Victorian stare of my old great-aunt,
+the Duchess of Strome. _She_ could cut--until you saw the blood!"
+
+"My dear, it was quite bad enough!" the elder V.A.D. assured her.
+"Mercy! I can't forget his wretched, _wretched_ eyes! I do hope I'm
+not going to dream of them! There must be something to be said for a
+man who looks like that!"
+
+
+The drab-grey terminus was sliding away.... The clank of milk-churns
+and trolley-wheels grew fainter.... A signal jerked down, with a
+wink of a red-green eye, the points clicked over, and the Express was
+launched upon her shining way across a tangle of intersecting metals
+terminated by grim black signal boxes, and gathering speed,--shot out
+of the jaws of a Goods Station into the foggy day. And stations were
+flying past, and the crowded drab streets of mean houses were flowing
+under the belly of the rushing Express like a river of dirty bricks
+and mortar,--and the ladies were moving and settling down, amongst
+rugs, cloaks, pillows, tea-baskets and other accompaniments of
+feminine travel; hugely amused by the temporary return to the
+prehistoric joggliness and stuffy safety of trains. And Lady
+Wastwood had mentioned that she had had two cars crumped by German
+H.E. in France--and it had transpired that the elder V.A.D. had had
+hers badly biffed in September outside a Theatre in the Strand when a
+Zepp dropped a bomb quite near,--and that the younger had hers
+temporarily put out of action through tyre wear, taking convalescent
+Tommies for drives--when Lady Wastwood suddenly betrayed the tenor of
+her thoughts by remarking with emphasis:
+
+"After all, if there IS anything to be said for Edward Yaill,
+Katharine Forbis will be the first to say it!"
+
+The uttered name plucked at some fibre in John Hazel's brain. He
+dropped _Frillies_, and one of the blue ladies reached down a long
+arm, and picked the paper up, and gave it back to him, with the
+manner of one well-used to doing these things for sick men. But she
+looked at Lady Wastwood, not at John, as she did this, saying:
+
+"'Katharine Forbis.' ... You must mean the handsome Miss Forbis who
+went out to the Front to drive ambulance-cars for her Detachment,
+some time in last March,--and was afterwards invalided home. Miss
+Forbis of Kerr's Something--?"
+
+"Kerr's Arbour, Tweedburgh. A quite modern house built against a
+dear old Border Peel Tower. Twenty miles from us at Whingates. Not
+as the crow flies, but as the woodcock.... That was my poor Jerry's
+annual joke. He hadn't a shadow of humour, bless his heart!"
+
+With which pronouncement John perfectly agreed. He had been
+electrified into attention by a sentence of the previous speaker's,
+and was tinglingly alert for another reference to a name by now
+uncannily familiar.... "Forbis of Kerr's Arbour, Tweedburgh" seemed
+to have plucked at a fibre in his brain. He was made to gnash
+metaphorical teeth by one or two divagations from the main point,
+before Forbis cropped up once more. Then came another mental jerk
+with an utterance from Lady Wastwood:
+
+"As a matter of fact, Edward Yaill and Kathy Forbis had been engaged
+quite for ages. You understand, I was a County Neighbour then, and
+saw what was going on. Edward Yaill's Infantry Regiment--'The
+Tweedburgh Foot-Sloggers' they call themselves--there aren't many of
+the poor dears left to answer to the old name!--Edward's Regiment
+distinguished itself equally in the Boer War of 1900. And
+Edward--with his Majority and a D.S.O.--came back after the War to be
+made a great deal of--and Kathy--then a quite beautiful girl of
+seventeen--vows that she fell in love with him then and there. But
+the engagement didn't come off until years later--and has been
+dragging on since in a most annoying way. Kathy--one of those Fine
+People who make sacrifices for others--didn't want to leave her
+father, a courtly old dear with a beautiful manner! after her
+mother--a Sweet Creature!--died. So the wedding was continually
+postponed. The last date arranged being the October of 1914."
+
+Both the V.A.D. ladies uttered sounds of sympathy; and Lady Wastwood
+went on, while, thanks to the oil-smooth running of the Express,--and
+perceptions sharpened by War's savage exigencies--John Hazel,
+ambushed behind the ample pages of the feminine periodical--followed
+the trend of the high-voiced narrative as easily as though he had
+been sitting in the stalls at a new play....
+
+"In that August--Edward was then staying at Kerr's Arbour,--came the
+Bolt from the Blue! ... With the --th Brigade of the --th Division of
+our First British Expeditionary, goes Yaill, then Senior Major of the
+First Battalion of 'The Tweedburghs' ... Katharine's pride in him was
+touching. She said very little, I remember, but her eyes--do you
+remember her wonderful eyes?"
+
+One of the V.A.D.'s agreed:
+
+"Yes, oh, yes! Quite wonderfully beautiful eyes!"
+
+"'Gold and bramble-dew,' to quote Robert Louis Stevenson's celebrated
+simile. His wife, to whom reference was made, I believe--was a
+Scotswoman though American-bred. But to go back to Edward--then
+Major Yaill,--you will remember--who does not? that at Le
+Cateau-Cambresis that August his Battalion underwent an Ordeal of
+Fire. So terrible, that Major Yaill and two junior officers, with a
+handful of men alone remained. Wounded, his uniform burned to
+rags--they say he fought like a god or a devil!--he escaped being
+taken by the Boches. But all the world knows the splendid story.
+I'm making myself a Perfect Bore!"
+
+The V.A.D.'s assured her she wasn't in the least; and she went on
+volubly talking, above the oily purring of the Kelso Express.
+
+"Escaped, and wandered, starving, wounded and in tatters; hiding in
+farmyards and amongst ruins by day,--and tramping, guided only by his
+luminous compass--at night-time. Fed by Walloon and Belgian peasants
+who were too scared--poor Things! one well knows why!--to give him
+even a few hours' shelter. Five days and nights, and he reached the
+Belgian frontier--passed the guard unnoticed--and got upon the
+Flushing Boat. And if you suppose that Kathy Forbis fainted when she
+had his wire, or even Cried for Joy all over everybody, you'd be
+Wrong. Absolutely!"
+
+John knew you would have been wrong. Under cover of _Tailor-Made
+Talks_ he nodded his head, with a kind of proprietorial pride in
+Katharine Forbis.
+
+"What did she do?" asked one of the blue women.
+
+"She simply said 'Thank God!' and went on with her First Aid
+bandaging. Then--after some delay because of Dutch
+Neutrality--Edward Yaill managed to get out of Holland and came back
+home."
+
+"Rather a wreck, one supposes?" hazarded a V.A.D.
+
+"Haggard and worn," admitted Lady Wastwood. "With those hollows in
+the temples one knows so well, and that queer tense, sleepless look
+they can't get rid of. One would naturally have expected that He and
+Katharine would have been Married Instantly. But I have absolute
+knowledge, that the subject was Never Broached!"
+
+"Rough on Miss Forbis, rather!" hazarded one of the hearers. To whom
+Lady Wastwood retorted:
+
+"Fortunately for Miss Forbis--as things have now developed! But that
+she would have jumped with Joy had Edward breathed a hint of
+marriage--Nobody could doubt who saw her look at him.... Sweetheart
+and wife and mother, mingled in her expression. 'She makes me want
+to cry!' said that Old Rip Delaguett. And he meant the thing....
+It's odd how those Bad Men adore Pure Women. Let us do Delaguett
+justice--he _swore_ she was too good for Yaill!"
+
+"Did _he_ agree with Lord Delaguett?" asked one of the blue ladies.
+
+"If he had," returned Lady Wastwood, "Kathy would have disagreed.
+And one task absorbed him, body and soul. Assisting the Authorities
+to reconstitute the Battalion that had been wiped out. This was
+done, and he was offered the post of Second Military Secretary to Sir
+Charles Carberry at Gibraltar. Wouldn't you have expected him to
+take the goods the gods provided, marry his Nice Katharine, and sail
+for the Rock? Kathy would have risked tin fish in shoals!--and a
+nuptial couch at the bottom of the Atlantic or the Mediterranean.
+But--"
+
+"But--?"
+
+"But Edward Yaill wouldn't hear of such a thing! Took the post--went
+out--absolutely fed--simply hated it! Groused away at G.H.Q. until
+they gave him what he wanted most."
+
+"One can guess what that was!"
+
+"Naturally. Command of the new old Tweedburgh Regiment, and Active
+Service in France again. 'To get back just a bit on account from
+those blighters!' he told me: 'I'd take over a Territorial Regiment
+from Hell. And to lead one's own Border men again is too--'"
+
+"Absolutely topping!" suggested Yaill's original champion.
+
+"You have the expression. Well, one perished to _trancher le mot_,
+but in view of Katharine's splendid attitude--"
+
+"Backed him for all she was worth, I'll bet!" said John Hazel
+internally.
+
+Lady Wastwood's high voice went on, through the Express's oily
+running:
+
+"Calm, hopeful and encouraging beyond all--one couldn't have ventured
+to say a Thing! On one point she was adamant--She would do her bit
+like others. Home Service wasn't enough--you comprehend!--for Kathy
+Forbis. She had got her First Class Certificate and
+Qualifications--and went to the Front, dear sweet thing! early in
+March, 1915, to drive cars for the Red Cross."
+
+"And so Colonel Yaill--"
+
+"Went out again to take over command of his Regiment, Colonel
+Muir-Rosyll, an old friend of mine--having gone West. And just as
+though Fate had been lying in wait for Edward!--in
+September--somewhere South of Loos--the Horror Happened Again!"
+
+"The 'Tweedburghs' were wiped out in the assault upon the village!
+... Oh! one remembers...."
+
+The elder of the blue ladies shuddered, the younger bit her lip.
+
+"Swept away.... 'Exterminated'--that's what the newspapers called
+it. And Edward Yaill's name was on the early list of killed. It
+seems that he had gone out from Battalion Staff Headquarters--all his
+officers but two being dead--to take over Telephone-Communication at
+their Forward Station Dug-out, and got there in time for a terrific
+bombardment of High Velocity Shell."
+
+"What unutterably Awful luck! Was he very badly wounded?"
+
+"Hardly a scratch on him, when they found him--one has heard so much
+of the queer fantastic tricks that High Explosive plays. Nearly
+naked and covered with yellow powder. Quite Dazed--not a notion of
+his own identity! Which of course was established by a gold curb
+wrist-chain with an Identification Disc, and an officer's silver
+whistle with his name upon it still hanging round his Neck--when they
+took him to a General Casualty Hospital on the Communication Lines.
+Where the Poor Thing was treated with scores of other Shell Shock
+cases, until he came round enough to remember his rank and name."
+
+"Didn't Miss Forbis wring out leave and rush from the Front to
+comfort him?"
+
+"Well, Katharine was badly wanted just then, where she was, at her
+Receiving Hospital. And personal interests must give place when Duty
+is in question. I imagine that we're all of us pretty clear on that!"
+
+Lady Wastwood added, as confirmatory sounds came from both her
+feminine hearers:
+
+"There's no question but her going to him would have saved Yaill.
+But unhappily, it was not to be. Nice Katharine--poor dear!--was
+invalided home from the Western Front a month later. Muscular
+strain, lifting wounded Tommies under Fire. Had to come back for
+Massage and Electrical Treatment. While Edward Yaill, who had been
+transferred to a Convalescent British Officers Canvas Camp at the
+B---- Base (up-to-date place under Red Cross Management, with pines
+and heather and bracken, and little streams gurgling down steep sandy
+cliffs)--Edward had been making steady progress towards complete
+recovery. Until--not quite a fortnight back--he Socially Cut His
+Throat!"
+
+The ladies exclaimed. The narrator continued:
+
+"Cut his throat by suddenly marrying a Trained Nurse belonging to a
+Unit of the Red Cross, doing duty at the B---- Base C.O.C.... Having
+obtained the necessary permit from his Brigadier. Whether the young
+woman got leave from the Matron-in-Chief on the West Front, or did
+without it, I couldn't tell you! I think the latter, as she had
+previously sent in her papers asking leave to retire for reasons of
+health. At any rate, the ceremony was performed by the
+Church-of-England Chaplain attached to the C.O.C."
+
+The narrator added, raising her arched eyebrows: "Quite legal, of
+course, but one Would have expected the thing to have been clinched
+by a Roman Catholic Priest. Yaill being R.C. like Poor Dear
+Katherine--to whom, one hopes, her Religion,--always so Much to
+her--may bring True Courage to Bear the Blow!"
+
+Lady Wastwood added, through her listeners' horrified exclamations:
+
+"Subsequently to the wedding the couple sailed for England, all
+arrangements having been Cleverly Camouflaged.... Nobody seems to
+have realised what had happened.... My own enlightenment was to come
+from Our London Headquarters, where I reported myself yesterday. A
+Wireless Message had been Received by Our Deputy Assistant
+Director-General from the Matron-in-chief on the Western Front in
+France. Our D.A.D.G. happens to be Colonel Yaill's cousin. That's
+how the item of news got dropped in. And subsequently she 'phoned me
+in Code at my Mayfair diggings--to say that her Sister-in-law, Lady
+Ridgely,--Red Cross Commandant of a Tommies' Convalescent Hospital at
+Coombe Bay, Devon--had encountered Colonel and Mrs. Yaill, upon their
+honeymoon."
+
+The elder V.A.D. lady moaned despairingly:
+
+"And now he tumbles in on us here--a passenger going North.... How
+can he? Why, why set foot in Scotland, of all places on the globe?"
+
+The newspaper rustled in a pair of big bony hands, that were shaking
+with rage as though with ague. There was a roaring in John Hazel's
+ears.... Spots of red, ringed with paler colour, grew and dimmed and
+faded out upon the page before him. If the harmless periodical had
+slipped from his hold, the sight of the mask of murder it had
+screened might have led to the pulling of the communication-cord and
+the subsequent appearance of the guard. For the man was not the same
+man who had shed the black frock coat and silk topper of Cornhill in
+the September of 1914. He had spilled blood since then, for duty's
+sake, and for revenge; and found sharp pleasure in the shedding. And
+much, very much, he wanted to kill Edward Yaill. But Lady Wastwood
+was answering the two blue ladies:
+
+"That is what I ask myself. Why? and How Can he? ... Unless, indeed,
+he were going up North to tell--to break the news to Katharine! Or
+does he possess sufficient Nerve to attend the Funeral?" She added,
+meeting the ladies' uncomprehending eyes: "Perhaps you have somehow
+missed the advertisement in Wednesday's _Morning Wire_! Heading the
+List of Deaths.... 'General Sir Philip Forbis, K.C.B.' and so on....
+'Result of accident.... No Flowers, By Request.' (He hated
+paraphernalia!) ... 'R.I.P.'" ...
+
+Under cover of the ladies' sympathetic exclamations, John secured the
+front page of the _Morning Wire_ without any results. But the
+"Obituary Notices" in the _Illustrated Society_ of that morning's
+issue supplied him in full with the intelligence he desired....
+
+At Kerr's Arbour, Tweedburgh, N.B., had died on the previous
+Saturday, the man John was going up North to meet.
+
+
+"A notable figure in Society and oldest living representative of one
+of the most ancient Catholic families upon the Border," stated the
+chronicler, "has now passed away in the person of Major-General Sir
+Philip Forbis, K.C.B., C.M.G., etc. Born at Kerr's Arbour,
+Tweedburgh, 1834, the seat of his family for sixteen generations.
+Married Muriel Helen (d. 1910), dau. of C. Colleston, Esq., J. P., of
+Wyond Hall, Norfolk. Edu. R.M.A. Woolwich. Entered Royal Horse
+Artillery 1852. Col. 1882, retired as Hon. Maj. Gen. 1884. Served
+in Crimean Campaign 1854-7. Wounded eight times. Medal, clasp and
+Turkish Medal. Prepared five contingents for the War in South
+Africa. Upon the outbreak of War with Germany in 1914 Major-General
+Forbis, having kept abreast of modern military progress, raised and
+trained a Yeomanry Regiment of Light Cavalry for Kitchener's New
+Army, three squadrons of which are now serving with distinction in
+France. The deceased officer met his death, as perhaps he would have
+chosen,--while leading a charge of the Fourth and Fifth Squadrons, on
+the Cauldstanes Muirlees Racecourse, ceded by the Local Racing
+Committee to Government as a Military Exercise Ground."
+
+
+John thought the Major General deceased must have been a jolly fine
+old fellow. Mentally picturing him as lightly-built, active, wiry
+and upright, with a keen light blue eye, crisp white hair and
+close-clipped white moustache, giving the brusque touch of soldierly
+decision to an aquiline-featured face of many criss-cross wrinkles.
+He added a peppery temper when put out, and a light hand on a bridle,
+before he proceeded to the paragraph below:
+
+
+"General Forbis' elder son, Captain Mark Forbis of the 'Gray
+Hussars,' went out with the First British Expeditionary Army in
+August, 1914, and was killed before Mons, while rendering a service
+for which he was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross. The second
+son, the Rev. Father Julian Forbis, of the Order of St. Gerard (now
+head of the family), has served with distinction as a Chaplain with
+the Mediterranean Forces recently withdrawn from Gallipoli. Miss
+Forbis, V.A.D., has rendered excellent service in France as an
+Ambulance Driver for the Red Cross Society. She has fortunately
+recovered from the muscular strain, for the treatment of which she
+was invalided home some months previously; and pending her return to
+more active duties, has been assisting the overworked Nursing Staff
+at Cauldstanes County Hospital."
+
+
+A paragraph below continued:
+
+
+"The origin of the name of 'Kerr's Arbour,' which has always
+distinguished the ancient mansion dignified by the massive peel-tower
+(built by a certain Sir Hew Forbis in 1147 and which has been for
+nearly nine hundred years the seat of the Forbis' family), is lost in
+the mists of antiquity. Owing to the loss of some ancient documents,
+the Scottish Herald's College and collateral authorities can throw
+but little light upon the question, when broached. The Forbis coat
+of arms consists of a shield with three escallops _argent_ on a
+_fesse_ between two chevrons _sable_ and _gules_, with the crest of a
+wolf's head and the motto: 'FORBYS FOES FA.' But that the original
+founder of the Forbis family was a Roman tribune named Marcus Fabius,
+who, reared in Egypt by a Community of Coptic monks, brought his
+Christian faith with his sword to Britain, in the service of the
+Emperor Constantius, seems to be generally agreed."
+
+
+John wondered how the bigwigs at the Scottish Herald's College would
+like a dip into the contents of that calfskin bag of Old Mendel's.
+Stowed well within touch of elbow, beside him on the seat, it struck
+him as wearing a consciously-secretive air. For the bag knew all
+about the antecedents of the Forbis's (going back a whole generation
+before Marcus F.). It could have told how the Crusader Sir Hew
+Forbis (whom John would have liked to kick for a family
+reason)--built the Tower:--and where the bags of French gold came
+from that paid the architect and the workmen, and quarried the stone,
+and "bocht ye lyme an ye clypins of a troop of ye Scots Kyng's Horsys
+ye betyr for to bynd ye same." ... And why Sir Hew called the place
+Kir Saba,--transmogrified in the course of centuries to quite another
+name.
+
+But on these points Scottish Herald's College must perforce remain in
+ignorance, unless Katharine Forbis--of Kerr's Arbour--who had driven
+a Car for the Red Cross in France, and had got somehow hurt in
+lifting wounded Tommies,--and had eyes of "gold and
+bramble-dew"--John Hazel was mightily taken with that simile of
+Stevenson's--unless Katharine Forbis should consent to share the
+secrets of the calfskin bag....
+
+Katharine Forbis, the Ideal Woman.... Devoid as John was of any
+knowledge of her personality, the vague outlines supplied by the
+gossip of his fellow passengers adapted themselves quite wonderfully
+to the image stamped upon his mental retina one April day in Flanders
+on the grim road that led from the British Reserve Trenches to the
+Firing Line. Had he received that post-card--and it must have been
+sent, for She had promised--would it have been signed with the
+initials K.F.?
+
+Katharine Forbis.... Katharine Forbis. What luck if this Katharine
+were She? He leaned back and shut his tired eyes, and fell to
+dreaming of this Katharine: a Princess of the North with cairngorm
+eyes; to whose court was momentarily drawing nearer--out of the
+Orient from whence all Mystery springs--a swarthy legate,--bringing
+neither apes nor parrots, embroideries or spices,--but the rare jewel
+of an ancient oath of fealty, unbroken by the use and wear of more
+than sixteen hundred years.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+Certain passengers travelling by the Kelso Express were presently
+switched off on a Branch Line, to rumble for a chilly hour in
+unwarmed and feebly-lighted carriages, between low-breasting heathery
+hills patched with larch and oak-woods, shagged with gorse and
+delicately topped with snow. Upon the left hand, beyond the
+blue-green riband of a river narrowing between its encroaching icy
+borders; lying between low sandstone cliffs hollowed by spates from
+the hills, the last embers of a fierce red sunset were smouldering
+away....
+
+Signs of the Day were apparent, in the significant age or suggestive
+youth of the plaided shepherds who moved as isolated dots upon the
+cheerless landscape; their collies bounding at their heels, or
+harrying flocks of black-faced sheep back to the round, stone-built
+folds upon the hills. Or in the macintosh and shawl-enveloped women
+driving shaggy ponies in the farm-gigs; or kilted and breeched,
+wearing the green armlet with the red Crown and lettering,--carting
+mangolds or forking swedes, herding rough-coated milch-cows back to
+the byres--or wheeling red Post Office bicycles up steep brae-roads.
+
+A fanged east wind spattering icy sleet, blew from the North Sea
+across the Cheviots, and lights began to twinkle from grey
+stone-built manses and slate-roofed farms. Dark had come down when
+the train stopped at Cauldstanes, the bleak little granite station of
+the Border market-town. The dazzling blue-white headlights of a big
+Rolls-Royce car blazed in the dark beyond the platform fence-rails.
+A one-armed, silver-badged male servant waited on the wet asphalte
+under the jumping gas. The Station Master, stout, white-bearded and
+important, passed towards the rear of the train, demanding a "ledda
+for Whingates." Presently to return, loaded with rugs, pillows and
+suit-cases, ushering the sought-for lady,--who said in her
+characteristically staccato accents as she bade her fellow-traveller
+adieu:
+
+"Good-night and good-bye, if we never meet again! Though this is a
+small world, isn't it?--and most roads seem to cross at the Front.
+No! you are Not to help with the things! ... Mr. Smellie will be so
+obliging.... And here is Padsworth. Glad to see you so fit,
+Padsworth. I've not forgotten to bring the artificial arm!"
+
+Thus Lady Wastwood, who vanished away into the conjectural regions
+beyond the platform fence-rails, tall, thin, triangular-faced,
+graciously smiling; attended by the laden station-master and followed
+by the one-armed groom....
+
+A red-cheeked girl in a macintosh and scarlet Tam O' Shanter took the
+soldier's ticket at the gate in the platform-railing, and cried in a
+strident key, intended for some unseen ear:
+
+"Mrs. Govan, mem! ... Is Mrs. Govan no' ootside wi' the doug-cairt
+frae the _Cross Keys_?"
+
+A voice pleasanter, rounder and more womanly, came back out of the
+blackness of the station entrance-yard, crying:
+
+"Ay, am I, Leezie! Is Cornel Yaill there?"
+
+Leezie shrieked back as the headlights of the Rolls-Royce revolved,
+and the big car turning,--backed, snorted, forged ahead and sped away
+on soundless tyres into the chilly darkness:
+
+"I kenna, but there's a sodger seekin' a nicht's lodgin'!"
+
+"Tell him the _Cross Keys_ wi' guid supper an' clean beddin' is
+inside the meenute's walk frae here!" called back the matronly voice.
+"Losh me! Whatna's that?"
+
+As John Hazel stood outside the platform gate, in the wind-blown
+flare of its solitary gas-lamp, another tall figure in khaki had
+appeared from the velvety blur of blackness under the eaves of the
+preposterous little booking-office; and passing close to the head of
+the quiet beast between the shafts, had halted by the off-wheel and
+spoken to the driver....
+
+"Eh, Cornel!" the womanly voice went on, "Gude guide us, but ye
+scairt me sair! Risin' up oot o' the dairk richt under auld
+Broonie's nose! ... But that the meir kens ye, the puir beast micht
+have boltit. An' wha' wad manage the _Cross Keys_ then, I wad weel
+like to know!"
+
+The answer came in a man's deep voice, with an inflection of
+melancholy underlying its pleasantness:
+
+"I am sorry, Mrs. Govan. But how is it I find you here, on such a
+bitter night?"
+
+"Huts! The nicht's no' waur than ither for the time o' year," Mrs.
+Govan retorted from her perch on the driver's seat. "An' the guidman
+being laid by wi' a sair hoast--forbye a lad we canna' trust wi' a
+guid beast on a mirk night--there's nane but mysel' to drive ye to
+Kerr's Arbour!" The speaker added, in the high keening tone which a
+Scotswoman of her class invariably assumes in speaking of things
+having reference to death and mourning; "An' haud ye back ae mair
+half-hoor from ane that's thinkin' lang until ye come to her--I
+wouldna'! Not to win my ain lad Alec back frae the Front the night!"
+She went on as the person addressed made a responsive sound of
+indeterminate meaning:
+
+"But whatna's to hinder ye, Cornel Yaill, knowing the road's weel as
+yer pocket, frae driving yersel--as ye've done to my knowledge--mony
+an' mony a time before noo. Up wi' ye!" She relinquished the reins
+and jumped down, nimbly enough considering her years and matronly
+proportions, adding as the man she addressed promptly assumed her
+vacated seat.... "Bid them gie Broonie a het mesh, puir thing, she's
+nane sae yoong as has been!--and mind ye send her back wi' the cairt
+early in the morn's morn. She'll be wantit to bring Mr. Kellar, the
+lawyer, oot on business conneckit wi' the Will! Na, na! I'll no' be
+needing a lift to the _Cross Keys_! Here's a soger-man from Lunnon
+that's bound for the inn, and needin' a wise body to guide him. Gang
+yer ways wi' guid luck! Gie my love to Miss Forbis!"
+
+The woman added as Yaill tightened the reins, and the mare, answering
+a whip-touch with an indignant snort, trotted away with the dog-cart
+into the sleety darkness:
+
+"Your road's lang and ower rough. But, O, Man! there's a braw, braw
+leddy waiting to greet ye at the ither end!"
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+She was so braw a lady,--not only in the physical meaning of splendid
+height and just bodily proportion; noble outlines and sweet,
+healthful hues; hair as richly black-brown as the bracken of her
+wintry braes, and eyes as tawny-golden as the crystals of her
+Scottish mountains,--that the heart of the man who loved and had lost
+her, seemed to shrivel and blister in his bosom, as though some
+fierce corrosive acid had been poured upon the throbbing flesh....
+
+Again and again he said what he was coming to say, as the willing
+mare, urged by no sparing hand, made good her journey towards Kerr's
+Arbour. Straining up steep bare brae-roads; picking her way down
+slippery descents; plashing through muddy bottoms walled with high
+cliff-banks clad with funereal firs and shadowy larches, revealed by
+passing gleams from the dog-cart's lamps. As the high-road changed
+to a hilly private road bordered by a plantation of conifers backed
+by a wire park-fence, the beast, which had given signs of distress
+unheeded by the man--checked at the steep with almost a woman's
+sob....
+
+Something in the sound wakened a dull pity in Edward Yaill. He got
+down, and walked beside Brownie, as she slipped and stumbled on
+stones washed loose by the rain-scour; and as a soldier will, he
+cursed the badness of the road. It was in a rotten state, compared
+to what it had been before the War came to take its super-toll of
+human energy. Sweeping into its huge and bloody maw gentle and
+simple, noble and infamous, ignorant and learned, penniless and rich.
+Nothing was the same. Nothing would, could, ever be the same again.
+Life had been transmuted, not into gold--but from honest silver into
+a strange, new ugly metal--in this vast, comprehensive crucible of
+War....
+
+Most hopelessly, irremediably changed of all human beings was Edward
+Yaill. Once a man meant by his Maker to inhabit an earthly Paradise,
+by the warm, fragrant side of the tenderest of mates. To that
+sick-hearted wretch, dogged by a pitiless Fate: outcast, or it seemed
+so to him--from decent Society: traitor to the woman unswervingly
+worshipped through the long years of a drawn-out engagement, it was
+meagrest comfort to know himself blamelessly loyal. Even as a Saint
+who in the delirium of fever has heard his own crazed voice
+blaspheming God....
+
+In the horrible wreck and wastage of Yaill's plans, one thought was
+clear. He must get to Katharine first, and tell her himself before
+others carried the tale. He looked up at the thin, pale face of the
+new moon coldly staring down at him between overshadowing branches,
+and thought it judged and condemned and repulsed him; like the face
+of the woman in the train. The woman knew Katharine Forbis--might
+even have written to her. He might find Kerr's Arbour mined, when he
+got there. A hundred things might have happened to ruin his
+chances.... What chances he meant he did not clearly know.
+
+Sometimes his mood was cold as he tramped by Brownie, and sometimes
+hot,--but always he tramped in Hell. He was going--going unless
+another had been before him, to break the heart of the dearest of
+living women with five words of his mouth.
+
+"Listen! I have married another!" Afterwards adding: "Even with my
+soul and body worshipping none but you!" Then--would she die with
+her great wide eyes reproaching him? Or would she drive him from her
+with words of scorn? Scornful words would be unlike Katharine
+Forbis--Katharine who rarely judged and seldom blamed. But the
+silence in which she would hear him out to an ending, would be
+infinitely more tragic, unspeakably more terrible than wrath....
+
+Insensibly beneath his feet the steepness levelled. Another mile and
+Kerr's Arbour would be in sight. But Yaill walked on, now obsessed
+and held by visions. In mental flashes Katharine came and went.
+
+A hundred times they had climbed this hill together. He felt as
+though she moved beside him now. He could see the sleet-drops
+glistening on her smooth cheek, whipped to a sweet carnation by the
+chilly wind. The scent of camphor from her furs came back to him,
+with the light pressure of her gloved hand upon his arm. In his ears
+were the tones of her nice voice,--the frank glance of her fair eyes
+seemed to meet his, for him were her gay words and her tender
+ones--like the sweet smile upon her rather large mouth. A smile that
+expressed its owner's innate conviction--shared by the majority of
+her acquaintances--that never under any imaginable circumstances
+could Miss Forbis be unwelcome or undesirable in the estimation of
+any being she chose to bless. No wonder her wretched Edward was
+wrung and tortured. In vision after vision she came and vanished, as
+he tramped beside the now exhausted Brownie under the thin new
+February moon.
+
+
+The iron-hard ringing ground, slippery with cat-ice; whitened with
+powdery hoar-frost; flowed on unheeded under the footfalls of brute
+and human, who marched together to a worsting Fate. All Nature
+seemed to reproduce Yaill's mood--the desolate, wintry hills, the
+eerie scream of the whaups--frozen out of their feeding-grounds in
+marsh and bogland,--the wailing cry of the hunting-owls, were in tune
+with him. The skirl of the north-east wind, honed to a razor-edge on
+the Jutland coast--tanged with the freezing salt of the wild North
+Sea; mined, patrolled, netted, guarded,--watched from bleak shore to
+shore, and from the oozy depths, and from the immeasurable heights of
+Air, by friends and foes, indomitable in hatred,--echoed through the
+chambers of his desolate heart....
+
+
+In the Spring of 1910 they had become engaged, and were to have been
+married in the Winter of that year,--but her mother had died--and
+Katharine had been unwilling to leave her father, and there had been
+delays and delays.... And then the wedding had been arranged to take
+place in the Autumn of 1914, and the War had prevented it--the
+damnable War!
+
+He ground his teeth, thinking of what the War had done for him and
+for many another man as wretched--and the distant hooting of the
+owls, freezing as they hunted freezing rick-mice--and the shriek of
+the north-east wind--sounded like Irish Banshees wailing the coming
+death of beautiful love....
+
+
+For Katharine's love had always been perfectly beautiful. She had
+been the ideal mate--the sweetheart who never palls. She had fed her
+lover's heart with the wholesome bread of tenderness, and never let
+his soul lack nourishment. She had met him full at every turn and
+exigency of Life--even as they had moved to meet it side by side. In
+the purest, most spiritual sense these betrothed lovers were
+wedded--though their ancient Church had not yet made them one.
+
+And now he was hastening to meet her and pull down his tower of love
+about his ears. Why hurry? whooped the owls and skirled the curlew.
+If you are going to tell her as you purpose, will you not reach
+Kerr's Arbour far too soon? But if you have the wisdom that men
+boast of--take what Life yet may give ere you lose all....
+
+He topped the crest of the final steep, and halted to let his dumb
+companion breathe awhile.... Now the sharp tuff-tuff of a
+motor-cycle came out of the distance behind him, and he wondered who
+was having so cold a ride upon that road to-night. Even from this
+point he looked on his journey's ending, with the sensation that a
+man may have in meeting with a dying friend....
+
+Nothing of beauty characterised Kerr's Arbour, an irregular mass of
+masonry rising from a walled garden-courtyard shut in by high
+yew-hedges: a stone wall and a _porte-cochère_ of ancient
+wrought-iron, beyond a bridged dry moat at the bottom of the private
+road. It showed as a rambling house of Early Jacobean architecture
+tacked on to the peel-tower reared by Sir Hew Forbis the Crusader,
+somewhere about 1147. The ancient battlemented tower was squat and
+clumsy, the rooms with rare exceptions were low-pitched, the ancient
+casements small, the stairways narrow, and the stone-flagged passages
+anything but level to the tread. But set in a fold of the
+snow-tipped hills and shielded on North and East with plantations of
+oak and evergreen, with the snow-veiled mirror of a little lake,
+burn-fed, trouty, haunted with heron and other waterfowl,--lying
+beyond the wintry gardens to the southward; with chilly moonlight on
+its frosty battlements and lying in pools upon its stone-flagged
+terrace; and smoke curling from its clustered chimneys; with mingled
+firelight and lamplight winking from well known windows--it caught at
+the wanderer's heart as a vision of Home.
+
+He looked up at the black-white sky, and it seemed to his misery,
+that beyond that inky wrack and livid cumulus--hurrying south like a
+curse rushing to fulfil itself--dwelt One who in His high austere
+remoteness looked coldly on the pigmy woes of men. To Whom his pangs
+were the struggle of the fly in the milk-jug,--the writhings of the
+worm severed by the gardener's mattock,--the pain of the snail being
+beaten by the thrush on the stone....
+
+What, O what was it to Him that Katharine's love had always been
+perfectly beautiful! And that to live beggared of all that wealth of
+sweetness--perhaps through all the years of life to follow--would be
+sheer Hell to her lover, Edward Yaill.
+
+Yaill shrieked at the thought, as a man at the stab of the
+bayonet--and the sweat broke out upon him, despite the cold. His
+hand went out and gripped the shaft of the dog-cart, so fiercely that
+the dogskin glove split.... Baulked passion, thwarted desire rent
+and tore him. Oh, what were Honour and Truth but pithless meanings!
+He would go down to Kerr's Arbour where she waited, and love and be
+loved before the ending came. He would drink one draught of the wine
+his soul and body craved for--before Fate dashed the cup out of his
+hands.
+
+So said, so it should be done. He took the reins from the
+hame-spike, and the flare of the wind-blown candle-lamp showed his
+smile. He sprang to his seat and snatched the whip from the socket,
+and lashed the mare--who broke into a furious gallop--the cart
+swinging and lurching perilously behind her as she pounded madly down
+the steep descent. At the bottom lay the curve of the dry moat,
+crossed by what had been a wooden drawbridge, converted in the reign
+of the last Stuart monarch, into an arch of rough-cut granite blocks.
+Beyond the bridge and a short avenue of beeches rose the rust-red
+iron gates of Kerr's Arbour, with the arms of the house wrought into
+their ancient tracery: a wolf's head crest with the motto "FORBYS
+FOES FA" above a shield with the plain device of three escallops
+_argent_ on a _fesse_ between two chevrons _sable_ and _gules_.
+
+The gates stood open for the guest of honour. On their cracked stone
+pillars, topped with grotesque lead effigies of wolves, each
+supporting the sword of a Crusader, oil lanterns burned, dangling by
+chains from iron cressets (meant to hold flares of greased or tarry
+tow). A dog barked within, and the cracked familiar voice of
+Whishaw, the butler, snapped out angrily:
+
+"Down, Dawtie! Quiet, bitch! Gin ye dinna ken the Colonel, ye
+daumned eediot, canna ye haud yer tongue like Laddie an' Bran?"
+
+The dog-cart's worn tyres shirred on the gravel of the courtyard.
+Yaill leaped down. The heavy nailed hall-door stood wide open.
+Warmth and light rushed together on the exile, and the scent of
+flowers, the pretty smells of burning peat and apple-wood, lavender,
+camphor and sandal from the great Japan cabinets ranged in the hall,
+came to him in a satisfyingly, fragrant whiff. This was home....
+Katharine's home.... And Katharine.... He trembled and a mist
+blurred his vision--and then his sick heart leaped--because she came.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+Came with a rush, and a whisper of silken draperies, straight as an
+arrow to his starving heart. The chastened passion of her embrace of
+welcome--the guarded flame of ardour in her kisses--the rapture in
+her pure eyes told her lover that he was loved as dearly as of old.
+Unchanged, O God! She who must learn to-morrow, perhaps to-night, to
+loathe the name of Yaill....
+
+She led him in, moving with the elastic step and upright carriage
+that gave her, amongst other women, the air of an uncrowned queen.
+As they passed the chapel door he saw through the stained glass that
+more lights burned there than the ruby star of the Sanctuary Lamp.
+She caught his puzzled look, and whispered to him:
+
+"Because my father lies there until his Funeral. Presently you shall
+see him, dearest Edward. He always loved you like another son."
+
+Her father.... So he was dead, the fine old General. It was true
+that Yaill had been fond of the dear old fellow, in some remote and
+shadowy long ago.... Now Katharine was saying, in that blessed voice
+of hers:
+
+"I was quite sure that when you got my cable, you would come to me,
+if the surgeons said you were fit. Not unless! ... I made that
+clear! You understood that, Edward? You would not have been so
+cruel as to come if it hurt you, dear?"
+
+He moved his head after a non-committing fashion. He had to hide his
+ignorance of this cable, sent to the Convalescent Camp at the B----
+Base, announcing the death of which he now first learned. He
+realised that he brought with him into this honourable dwelling,
+subterfuge, pretence, concealment and evasion.... By use of these he
+must make his way, warily, as over duckboards laid on quaking mud.
+Presently one would be lying.... Lying to Katharine, the crystal
+soul of candour and honesty....
+
+Now he was sitting upon her right at the dinner-table, wondering at
+the keen appetite provoked in him by the savour and sight of
+well-prepared, well-cooked food. A pink-eyed, silver-haired,
+Shetland-shawl-enveloped elderly lady, a Mrs. Bell--once nursery
+governess to the Forbis children, and now occupying an indefinable
+position in the household,--opposed him upon Katharine's left hand;
+the carved oak arm-chair usually occupied by the master of the house,
+remaining in its place at the head of the table; a Persian cat, the
+dead man's favourite, curled up asleep upon its faded seat.... Nor
+did the dogs,--a collie, an old pointer-bitch, and a Scotch
+deer-hound--desert their accustomed posts upon the threadbare patches
+of the Turkey carpet; though uneasy whimpers testified to their sense
+of strangeness, and their wistful eyes were always on the door....
+Once their tails drubbed and their jaws slavered a welcome, when a
+thin elderly priest came in, and bowing with the formal grace of the
+seminary--as Miss Forbis introduced Colonel Yaill to Father
+Inghame--made a remark about the bitter weather, and took the cover
+evidently laid for him--upon the right of the master's empty chair.
+
+He was fasting, for a dish of spinach with eggs was brought to him,
+though Friday's dishes figured on the board. He looked fagged and
+ate with evident lack of appetite; admitting in reply to Katharine's
+inquiries that the road to Peelston Bridge was uncommonly
+trying--even for a cyclist inured to conditions in France. It
+transpired presently--for the priestly reserve yielded to the charm
+of Yaill's voice, his courtesy and soldierly frankness--that Father
+Inghame was not a Secular priest but a Religious of the Order of St.
+Gerard; who had served as chaplain attached to a Division of the
+First British Expeditionary Force; received a shrapnel-wound in the
+First Battle of the Aisne, and had come home in charge of a Hospital
+convoy. Further, that he was discharging the easy duties incumbent
+on the resident chaplain at Kerr's Arbour, until his health should be
+sufficiently re-established, in the opinion of his Superior--to
+warrant his return to the Front.
+
+"Which I hope may be soon, very soon!" he ended. "For I think that
+Miss Forbis will not misunderstand me, when I say that I want to get
+back to real work. To eat the bread of idleness in comfort and
+safety while brave men are dying hourly in muddy trenches, is
+not--for a priest who is able-bodied and hardy enough--"
+
+"To subsist upon the rocky biscuit, and munch the iron ration of
+War!" said Yaill's deep, soft voice with the under-note of
+melancholy; "Men who have done far less than yourself, Father," he
+went on, "are content with ordinary War-conditions at home. Would
+not the charge of a crowded Mission in the East or West End of
+London--or possibly in a Hertfordshire village, with the certainty
+of--say two bomb-raids per week, be sufficient to satisfy your thirst
+for risks?"
+
+Father Inghame returned with a queer hot light burning in each of his
+hollow eyes, and a flush rising under his sallow skin:
+
+"Indeed, Colonel, you overrate the small part that I have been
+permitted to play in the opening acts of this unfinished drama of
+Armageddon." He went on, prompted to pay a genuine tribute of
+admiration to the distinguished soldier whose heroism was as
+proverbial in the mouths of men as the record of his misfortunes:
+"Compared with the experiences that you have passed through, such as
+have fallen to my lot are, to say the least of them, trivial. Except
+with regard to the conduct of those Catholic soldiers whom it has
+been my privilege to confess and communicate. How often when I have
+passed through the trenches under heavy shell-fire, carrying the
+Blessed Sacrament,--I have seen them take off their
+shrapnel-helmets--though shell-splinters were flying about, and
+machine-gun bullets whistling overhead. And with what childlike
+simplicity and faith they would kneel in the stinking mud to receive
+their Saviour! And with what sublime endurance and resignation they
+have rendered up their souls to God.... All my life long, I shall be
+rich in such memories: bequeathed to me, not only by Catholics, but
+by Protestants, Presbyterians, Dissenters, and members of the Church
+of England,--whom I have seen die with the light of Faith upon their
+blackened faces--whispering the prayer that was made by God for men!"
+
+"The splendid men!" said Katharine's full warm voice. "Oh! how can
+we ever be proud enough of these men of ours! Haven't I _hugged_
+myself whenever I remembered--'I am your countrywoman, you great
+dears!'"
+
+Yaill's eyes met hers, and an exquisite thrill was interchanged
+between them. When they were once more conscious of the outer world,
+the Father was saying--with some lack of tactful prevision:
+
+"It is said there were a good many Catholics in the rank and file of
+your regiment. In the First and Second Battalions of 'The
+Tweedburghs,' in 1914--as in those battalions reconstituted," he
+hesitated, "after the disasters of Le Cateau-Cambrésis and Loos--I
+have heard the percentage estimated at twenty-five."
+
+"The estimate is correct," Yaill answered, speaking with admirable
+composure, though a tell-tale muscle fluttered in his lean brown
+cheek, and Katharine drew a quick breath of painful sympathy. He
+added, with a curious intonation: "Yet, despite scapulars, medals,
+rosaries, badges and other practical life-assurances--the Catholic
+men you speak of lie under stinking mud with other fellows now. Ha,
+ha, ha!"
+
+And he laughed with such unnaturally loud and mirthless violence,
+that Whishaw at the sideboard jumped and dropped a dish-cover, and
+Katharine's sweet eyes went to him in grave surprise.
+
+Those eyes of Katharine's, "of gold and bramble-dew," never strayed
+long from the face of her dear one. She was nurse as well as lover,
+and that strange laughter had filled her with dismay. She wished
+that the Father had been wise enough to shun the agonising subject.
+Why had it not occurred to her to warn him not to refer to Edward's
+terrible experiences, she asked herself, aching in sympathy with
+Edward's pain. But thin ice is a lure to some skaters,--these not
+the most brilliant performers. Father Inghame pursued, in a tone
+that was not untinged with rebuke:
+
+"You would not suggest, I feel sure, Colonel, that the Catholic men
+of your own or any other regiment regarded rosaries, scapulars and
+medals as charms and mascots--and not as legitimate aids to faith?"
+
+Yaill's face hardened to a mask of pale brown granite. His fine dark
+brows drew sternly into line. His grey eyes gleamed, and below the
+clipped moustache a faint smile hovered. He played with the stem of
+an antique wine-glass of cut green crystal; twirling it in the long
+sensitive fingers of a hand as beautifully shaped as strong. And he
+returned, while feigning to admire the delicate workmanship of the
+long-dead engraver:
+
+"You are right. I intended to convey no such suggestion." He
+changed the trend of the conversation by asking the little pink-eyed
+Mrs. Bell when she had last heard from her son in India. And his
+agreeable, well-bred tones gave no hint of the frenzy of impotent
+resentment raging within him against the Supreme Power Who set the
+pellet Earth with her sister planets, to follow their orbits round
+the white-hot Sun--and modelled the lord of the world--Man, in the
+form of the Creator; and set in his breast a spark of Divine
+Intelligence; and bade him live, and love, and be loved again--O
+anguish!--a finite being with immortal yearnings--condemned to dwell
+in the upas-shadow of Death.
+
+To house an immortal Soul in the breast of a pigmy, in the blood of
+whose veins armies of microbes make War. Whose tiny gullet can be
+blocked by a swallowed fish-bone; whose seeing eye, that miracle of
+miracles, by a thorn-prick or a blow can be rendered blind! Whose
+brain, that has solved the secrets of Creation; reduced the Universe
+to its chemical constituents; made an ally of the once tameless
+lightning; abolished Time, and annihilated Distance; set bounds which
+Plague and Pestilence may not overpass; made ships to fly in Air and
+sail below water--may by a blow be mashed in its eggshell skull. Or
+by the detonation of a shell packed with High Explosive, be churned
+to merest pap of grey matter, dead to sensation, incapable of
+Thought. Or be so thrown out of gear as to order the body to speech,
+impulses, acts, in opposition to the Will. Seemingly sane, O
+horrible, horrible mockery! until the awakening from trance or
+stupor, or whatever the vile bedevilment may be. From the condition
+of No. 40, Shell Shock Ward 8, General Casualty Hospital 70--and the
+state of No. 80, Convalescent British Officers Camp, B---- Base--to
+the present plight of the complainant; captive within the enclosure
+of a sacramental vow!
+
+This was the rankling grievance nursed by Edward Yaill against his
+Maker. The son of a Catholic house, reared in the Faith, loyal to
+the Church, scrupulous in the discharge of religious duties, he had
+never for one instant imagined himself at variance with his God.
+That he could quit the fold of Catholic Christianity on the grounds
+of intellectual doubt, he knew to be impossible. Like the devils, he
+believed--even while he revolted. His was the pain of the child who,
+loving the father, has discovered him to be unjust. The muscle
+twitched in his lean cheek, and a quiver passed over his stern
+features as a ripple will traverse the surface of still water. And
+to Katharine's tender, watching eyes, it seemed that all was not well
+with Edward. She breathed a little silent prayer to Our Lady for
+him, and unconsciously her large white hands folded together on the
+tablecloth. They were beautifully-modelled hands, with tapering
+fingers, and nails that had been exquisite in pre-War days. The
+damaged nails that gallant British women were not at all ashamed to
+show.
+
+Yaill knew that those fair hands had done distasteful, rough,
+laborious tasks with glorious goodwill and cheerfulness. He loved
+them and admired them all the more. He could picture them holding up
+the drooping head of a wounded man--or offering cool drink to the
+parching lips of the dying. He had sipped sparkling burn-water from
+their cupped palms many a time on a hot day up yonder on the moors.
+He had seen them folded in prayer, he had covered them with kisses by
+her sweet permission. When he had bidden her good-bye upon leaving
+for the Front--she had taken his head between those hands, and kissed
+him solemnly upon the forehead--and traced the sign of the Cross
+there--as his mother might have done, had she been alive. And God,
+Whom he had served and trusted--had for no fault of his, taken from
+Yaill who worshipped her--this pearl and paragon among women. And
+upon this count he held himself betrayed.
+
+There would never be "_Nil_" upon Yaill's disc, but he had finished
+with prayer, and the Sacraments, and Mass-going for ever....
+Unless--by some marvellous--miraculous happening, the Great Wrong
+should be set right.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+Dinner ended. Little, pink-eyed Mrs. Bell enveloped herself in her
+Shetland shawls and discreetly vanished, with a plaintive murmur of
+good-night. Yaill, with set, formal courtesy, giving precedence to
+the Church--followed Father Inghame and Katharine through a curtained
+archway communicating with the adjoining drawing-room.
+
+"Thank you, Miss Forbis, but I will not stay for coffee. I have to
+make a visit to the chapel--and write some letters, and after
+night-prayers I shall go to bed, for I am beat out. I only wanted to
+say that Father Haildon, the priest in charge of your Parish Church
+at Birkleas, will celebrate the Requiem Mass on Monday; and that the
+Father Superior of the Monastery at Scraeside," he named a place some
+miles distant from Birkleas,--"will esteem it an honour to be
+permitted to assist. He will bring a Jesuit priest from London who
+is staying at the Monastery (Father Bevan, of Farm Place, Grosvenor
+Crescent)--and all are agreed that ten o'clock will be the most
+suitable hour. The boys of the Birkleas choir will drive over in the
+break with Father Haildon; and the lady who acts as organist will
+take the place of Mrs. Bell. That is all, except to wish you a very
+good night!" He shook hands with Miss Forbis and moved in the
+direction of the door opening on the hall, adding: "Mass will be at
+half-past seven as usual to-morrow. Perhaps--" his eyes went
+doubtfully to the tall khaki figure and downward-bent, thoughtful
+face of Yaill, who stood upon the worn tiger-skin hearthrug with a
+hand gripping the ledge of the mantelshelf: "perhaps as Whishaw's
+grandson has influenza, Colonel Yaill would like to serve Mass?"
+
+There was an instant's pause before Yaill answered. He stared into
+the wood and peat fire blazing in the antique bowed steel grate, and
+seemed as though he had not heard. A log hissed; spurted brilliant
+flame; broke and fell--scattering sparks upon the old Dutch
+hearth-tiles. Two or three lodged upon the tiger-skin, mingling the
+fragrance of the charring apple-wood with the ugly acrid tang of
+frizzling hair. Then Yaill said, punctuating the sentence with
+stamps of his boot-heel:
+
+"I fear I must--ask--to be excused, sir."
+
+The priest's response was the gentle opening and closing of the door.
+Then with her long light step and a whisper of silken draperies,
+Katharine crossed over and stood on the hearth at her lover's side.
+He did not move or lift his head, but his starved heart answered the
+call of her nearness with a leap of fierce delight. His arm went out
+and round her, and she leaned lightly against him, and whispered
+against his cheek, close to his ear:
+
+"If you knew what joy it is to me, to have you! ... Dear Edward! I
+am not much good at words--but you understand?"
+
+He said, stiffening his lips against his teeth to check their
+trembling:
+
+"No words have yet been made to express what you are to me--Dearest
+of all women!--and have been always, since the blessed hour when I
+saw you first!"
+
+She was not a woman from whom to exact caresses. You waited the
+moment when she was pleased to give. Now she swayed nearer and her
+bosom brushed his--and the world went dim as they exchanged a kiss....
+
+Last time they had met she had worn a Regulation tunic and short
+uniform skirt of blue serge, thick high Service boots and a plain
+blue felt hat with an enamelled Red Cross badge, and had been no less
+beautiful in his eyes. Now her tall lithe shapeliness was in silken
+raiment, like the beautiful arched feet in their buckled shoes. The
+rigorous plainness of her mourning dress added to her beauty, with
+its pure strong outlines and rich creamy skin. Her high-bred
+simplicity was the dominant note of her--or was it her generosity,
+her sympathy, or her piety? ...
+
+A man had once said to Yaill in the early stages of the friendship
+that had changed so quickly into passionate love:
+
+"She would be enchanting if she were not so holy!"
+
+And Yaill had answered, with his grave eyes following her:
+
+"Holiness is the bloom upon the nectarine."
+
+Well, it was true. She was all the more attractive for the piety
+that graced her beauty, the devotion that exhaled from her,
+unconsciously as the fragrance from the rose.... Like Yaill's dead
+mother, she had no use for a man who was not religious. She had a
+standard and expected her beloveds to live up to it. And Yaill had
+done so, according to his lights.
+
+She leaned closer, and her long, beautiful arm curved across his
+tunic, and her fond hand stroked the ribbons on his breast.
+Lingering over them, enumerating with silently moving lips the list
+of her man's distinctions, from the orange-centred blue and red of
+the Queen's medal of the South African War of 1899-1901, to the red
+ribbon of the Victoria Cross; the rainbow of the Star of Mons: the
+blue-edged red of the D.S.O. the white-mauve-white of the Military
+Cross; and the green, red-lined ribbon of Belgium's Croix de
+Guerre--with the sweet colour coming and going in her cheeks, and her
+dark lashes lowered over the shining cairngorm eyes. His sick heart
+ached anew, she was so wifely; and so womanly in her insistence on
+her point. For she went on urging:
+
+"Then, I may tell Father Inghame that you will serve Mass on my
+father's last day in the old home, and in his place? ... He would
+yield the privilege to no one--unless it were my brother Julian--so
+gladly as to you. Say that I may say 'Yes!'"
+
+Yaill's deep voice answered, slowly and heavily:
+
+"He was a good man. No better ever lived, I am quite certain. And
+under most conceivable circumstances--to me his wish would be law.
+But I cannot take his place beside the altar or even attend at Mass."
+
+He felt her start. She asked him quickly:
+
+"There is some reason--"
+
+"There is of course a reason!" He stirred a smouldering log with the
+toe of his high boot.
+
+"Your health?" Her voice had the sharpened edge of anxiety, and her
+bosom rose and fell with her quickened breath. His starved eyes
+dwelt on the modelling of her wide brows, the black lashes of the
+sweet eyelids that dropped under his scrutiny, the setting of her
+head on the throat's white column, the superb width of her shoulders,
+the arch of her deep chest....
+
+"Your health.... There is more to hear than I have been told--is
+there not? Don't keep--anything back from me, Edward. Nothing is so
+terrible to bear as suspense."
+
+"There is nothing.... Have you ever known me keep anything back from
+you, my dearest?" he asked, in wonder at his own hypocrisy. For he
+knew that to have answered, "I have lost the Faith" would be to her
+an overwhelming blow. "Now tell me of Julian. You wrote to me
+that"--the speaker hesitated, mentally groping, "that he had applied
+to his Superior General and got leave to volunteer for service as a
+Chaplain with the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force."
+
+"That was in last December. But the permission was delayed, as I
+wrote you later, and he sailed for Lemnos with the 29th Division a
+year ago this February. We heard from him next from Gallipoli,--such
+brave, cheerful letters. But since August 21st.... Oh, Edward!"
+She caught her breath sharply and paled and reddened. "Since the
+21st not a line--not a single line!"
+
+Yaill's forehead knitted in the effort to remember. Thin, thin ice
+here. He must go warily....
+
+She went on:
+
+"We know from the despatches published in the newspapers and from
+letters written to us by friends of Julian's, that he went forward
+with his brigade when the 29th Division fought through the scrub-fire
+to the top of Scimitar Hill.... When the terrible Turkish shrapnel
+swept them back down the hillside Julian stayed with the
+wounded--giving First Aid and comforting the dying. A brother
+Religious of St. Gerard who was with the Eleventh Division, visited
+us here afterwards and told us; 'Father Forbis was splendid!' ...
+'One of the Church's many heroes!' he called him. But he could
+enlighten us no more than the people at the War Office.... And it
+broke my heart to look at Father--as the weeks went by and by without
+bringing any news.... He bore it in silence, but he has suffered
+dreadfully. I have heard him over and over, walking up and down at
+night in his bedroom. And by day one could see him hanging on the
+hope of a wire from Whitehall. Oh, Edward!--the wire that never will
+come, perhaps! That last day I saw Father alive, when he rode out
+with his Adjutant to put the last polish on the Fourth and Fifth
+Squadron of his Yeomanry at Cauldstanes Muirlees Racecourse--he
+looked so beautiful that my heart swelled big for pride in him,--and
+so sorrowful that I had to run away to cry. And he waved to me and
+rode up the brae without looking back to wave again, and--"
+
+Here Katharine broke down and sobbed, and Yaill caressed his love and
+soothed her, setting fresh tears running in the channels that had
+long been dry. She had wept bitterly when Mark had been killed at
+Mons, though when the Tweedburgh Regiment had been wiped out near
+Loos, and Yaill had suffered in the blowing-in of the advanced
+telephone-communication dug-out, the news had reached her on the
+morning of an attack by German aircraft on the Clearing Hospital, and
+there had been not a single moment to spend in selfish grief. This
+last blow, coming as it had, had left her numbed to the centre of her
+being. Until this moment she had not cried at all ...
+
+Yaill said, when she grew calm at last, lifting his strong brown hand
+to his lips, and drying with a kiss a shining drop that had fallen on
+it:
+
+"We must hope for the best for Julian. He may be a prisoner with the
+Turks, or wounded,"--he spoke hoarsely--"or suffering after some such
+fashion as--makes it impossible to communicate with--those whom he
+loves."
+
+"My dear," she said, knowing that his own case rose in mind, "my
+poor, poor dear!" And the wretched man grew sick at heart and
+shuddered. The mothering note in her voice called to him across the
+years of an engagement senselessly prolonged, that he might have
+heard it cooing to their children, or whispering love-words through
+many, many wasted nights. And the more hopelessly he yearned to her,
+the more he shrank from the solicitude in her sweet eyes. He had
+seen those eyes flame with generous anger, and sparkling with mirth,
+and dewy with tenderness. Now they were full of sorrow mingled with
+love for him. He tried to imagine how they would look her scorn....
+
+For when she knew all the truth, she must despise him. That was the
+thing that made his heart a hell. The knowledge that no one could
+possibly believe in the innocence of the fellow who had done this
+hideous, brutal, beastly thing.
+
+"Shell-shock, no doubt!" He heard the voices saying it, and saw the
+shake of sympathetic heads. "Shell-shock! ... How quite frightfully
+sad!" And through the eyeholes of the masks of sympathy, pity,
+commiseration--he saw the wriggle of the little snake of Doubt.
+
+Were the truth known to the world, no one could ever believe it. He
+would lie, therefore, until it came to light. He would have the joy
+of these last hours spent beside Katharine, to remember when she
+banished him for ever from her side.
+
+To Katharine, whose sore heart was eased by that burst of weeping,
+the joy of Edward restored shone through her sorrow as the sun
+through a snow-fog or a mountain mist. By and by, when Yaill settled
+into a well-known arm-chair, she hesitated but another instant before
+sinking with one swift, supple movement, down upon the hearthrug at
+her lover's side. He refused to smoke; she knew out of respect for
+the presence of Death in that bereaved, masterless house. She
+whispered, leaning her forehead against his shoulder, surrendering
+her hand to the warm, strong, masculine clasp:
+
+"By and by we will go in together and see him. Shall we not,
+dearest? He would wish it!"
+
+Yaill muttered, looking at the engagement-ring of Indian turquoises
+that he had placed years back on the fair womanly hand within his own:
+
+"Certainly. If it will not be--too hard for you!"
+
+"Too hard! O no, dear Edward!" The hearth-blaze lightened on her
+broad forehead as she raised it. "The hardness will be when he is
+there no longer, to talk to and to look at and to pray for.... To
+pray to, as well, being with the Holy Souls. It is wonderful to
+think now; '_He is with my mother!_'"
+
+"And Mark, and your little sister Rosamond."
+
+"And Julian, perhaps. He knows now, whether Julian was killed or
+taken prisoner.... Turks are cruel to their captives, are they not?"
+
+"Sometimes...."
+
+The muscle in Yaill's thin cheek twitched. He moved restlessly:
+
+"Sometimes.... But do not dwell on these possibilities, or torture
+yourself with useless conjectures. Even in the shadow of the
+bereavement that has fallen upon this dear home, we are together....
+Together, Katharine!"
+
+She turned and kissed the fine dark khaki cloth of his sleeve,
+lingeringly echoing:
+
+"'Together.' Doesn't it seem--rather too good to be real? After all
+that has been--the cruel years of parting, the shock of calamity; the
+rush and roar of events, the ugly things of War, the horror of
+dreadful news--the suspense of waiting--for letters from you--letters
+that never came--"
+
+"I could not--did not--" he stammered miserably and broke off.
+
+Her strong, fine hand closed upon his reassuringly.
+
+"My own love, did I ever for a moment, lose faith in you? Did I ever
+cease to write, though I never heard? ..."
+
+He groaned in spirit, remembering his discovery of those letters....
+Square envelopes containing two or three sheets of ribbed linen
+note-paper, covered with Katharine's clear free script.... The
+pocket of an old writing-case of his was stuffed with them--they had
+crammed that damned Japanese workbox to the lid!
+
+Again she breathed:
+
+"Though I never heard from you I kept on writing. Each letter like a
+cry from my heart to yours."
+
+Words burst from him:
+
+"As God hears me, I never got one of those letters!"
+
+She drew a troubled breath and said wonderingly, with sweet,
+perplexed eyes seeking light from his:
+
+"Not at the time they were written, dear, possibly. But your nurse
+did read them to you, Edward?--as soon as you could bear it, that is."
+
+"Did she?"
+
+"She was very kind. I was very grateful to her."
+
+"Was she? ... Were you? ..."
+
+The sweat stood in beads upon his brow and temples, and his strained
+knuckles showed white through the sunburnt skin.
+
+"Kind, I mean, in writing to break the cruel truth to me, that
+you--Edward!--let us forget about this!"
+
+"It will be best," he said in a low constrained tone, not looking at
+her. "But tell me first what truth she broke to you?"
+
+"The truth--" He felt her warm mouth upon his hand, "that your mind
+was quite a blank with regard to me. That was the news that came in
+her first letter from the Convalescent Camp at B---- Base. I have
+not kept the letter--I could not!--but the date I shall remember
+always. October 28th, 1915."
+
+It had been true then. The effort to remember; to conjure up
+figures, faces, associations, places, out of the Great Blank that had
+followed the shell-burst--had been attended by blinding headache,
+spasms of sickness and nights of insomnia. Katharine went on:
+
+"I wrote to her--Nurse Burtonshaw--at the Camp,--and thanked her, and
+said that I would go on writing to you exactly the same. My work
+involved some risk. If I had been killed, you would have learned
+from those letters that I never once forgot you, Edward, dear! So I
+asked your nurse to put them by in some safe keeping-place, and when
+God in His Mercy should restore my darling's memory, to give them to
+him, with his Katharine's love. For I never doubted that you would
+recover, Edward. If I had, for one moment--how could I have gone on
+working? I must have given up hope! I must--"
+
+The break in her dear voice supplied the missing end to the sentence:
+
+"I must have broken down and died!"
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+When a man's own organs, senses, wits conspire against him, in league
+with an enamoured woman who plays traitress, what earthly chance has
+the man?
+
+Yaill stared into the glowing rose-red heart of the fire, conjuring
+up for the thousandth time that part played by one brown puppet of a
+myriad of puppets similarly attired, in War's dread drama; cheek by
+jowl, night in and day out--with the grim tragi-comedian Death; whose
+paces, poses and antics, grown commonplace by dint of familiarity--at
+length ceased to cause a shudder, or provoke a passing jest....
+
+The War.... A waking nightmare of cold, heat, thirst and hunger;
+exertion, anxiety, responsibility, fatigue; sleeplessness and NOISE,
+NOISE, in a ceaseless, maddening crescendo, until that flaming
+white-hot moment when the German 5.9 H.E. shell blew in the Advanced
+Telephone Communication dug-out. When consciousness of these things
+abruptly ceased for Yaill.
+
+So it came to pass that stark-naked as when he was born into this
+world, save for a platinum disc-chain on his wrist, bearing his name,
+religion, rank and regiment, and a small gold Crucifix slung by a
+blackened cord about his neck, Number 40, Shell Shock Ward 8, General
+Casualty Hospital 70, on the Lines of Communication, came into being.
+Later on, when the Great Blank had given place to a drab-hued mental
+twilight, wherein men, women and children; animals, trees and houses
+could dimly be conjectured or unemotionally discerned; and a little
+later yet, when one began again to realise oneself a living puppet,
+playing a dull, dull part in a dreary production called Life,--with
+some character dimly sensed as missing from the cast, whose presence
+would have made a world of difference!--Number 80, Convalescent
+Officers' Camp, B---- Base, began to take what other nurses called a
+"good deal of notice" of Nurse Lucy Burtonshaw.
+
+You are to conceive of Nurse Burtonshaw as anything but a purposeful
+Delilah. The piously-reared daughter of one Burton, a respectable
+West of England dairy-farmer,--calling herself "Burtonshaw" for
+reasons of her own, while serving in concert with thousands of other
+admirable young British women, enrolled for Service at Home and
+Overseas under the auspices of the Red Cross,--how shall she be held
+blameworthy because there beat under her Navy blue lustre overall,
+and white bibbed apron with its badge of red twill Turkey, a woman's
+heart, susceptible to Love....
+
+Does any woman wonder? Does any man ask Why? Nurse Lucy Burtonshaw
+had washed Number 80; combed him, fed him, dressed him,--and put him
+to bed again. Administered general massage and tonics, and
+superintended the ministrations of the orderly-barber, unwearying,
+for months on end. She had soothed him,--waking from brief daylight
+sleeps in panics bred of hideous, nerve-shattering
+visions,--reproductions of such sights,--burned in upon the brain and
+reproduced by the subconscious memory, as made the nights grim
+ordeals of dread. She had alternately scolded and encouraged her
+patient, gaining strength mentally and physically under her
+unselfish, able care, until she had established herself as the hub of
+his universe. The sky and sea, the flowers and trees, and that fresh
+West Country face with its blunt features and well-opened grey-blue
+eyes, were the only books the patient ever cared to read in. The
+printed lines, the written sheets, were torture to Yaill's dazed
+brain and astigmatic vision. So the Commandant's private secretary
+attended to his business letters, and the correspondence of his
+friends was dealt with by Nurse....
+
+Upon her arm at first, by her side later, he took his first walks in
+the Convalescent Camp grounds. When later still, he was taken for
+drives in the company of other shell-shocked officers, it was Nurse
+Burtonshaw who persuaded him not to rebel against this order of the
+C.M.O.... Nurse, who waited for the return of the big, crowded car
+and unpacked him, smiling, at the gates of Canvas Park Row, the
+double avenue of roomy tents pitched on the green, tree-clumped
+slopes rising North of the Base Port, behind the big square stone
+house where the Staff officers and quarters were,--and the huge,
+shapeless, plank-built zinc-roofed bulk of the Hospital.
+
+"There now, you're back again and no bones broken. And whether you
+liked it or not, the air has done you good," she would say
+cheerfully, unwinding his muffler, knitted by herself in her scant
+spare time. For all Yaill's personal, immediate baggage had been
+destroyed by a Boche bomb-raid upon Battalion Staff Headquarters, and
+as Number 80 never wrote letters, such lacking necessaries had been
+replaced by Red Cross gifts.
+
+Subsequently, when some battered portmanteaux were received from
+Regimental H.Q. in France,--but of that later in the chapter.... You
+are to see Nurse taking off the muffler, over which her patient
+stared down at her with grey, brooding, mournful eyes. Those eyes
+followed her about, burning holes in her grey print. If she had
+established herself as the hub of Number 80's universe, she was none
+the less the adoring slave of him whom--in private and at his
+entreaty she called "Teddy."
+
+For Lord help this bedevilled man! he who in all his thirty-five
+years of life had been "Edward" to all who loved him, holding pet
+names in abhorrence,--had invited Nurse Burtonshaw to address him by
+this fond diminutive. "My mother used to call me 'Teddy,'" he would
+say, with his sad eyes brimming: "and though she has married again--"
+the poor widowed lady being dead and buried years previously--"and I
+am nothing to her now, I somehow like to hear it."
+
+So Nurse called him "Teddy," scrupulously selecting moments when they
+were quite alone and out of earshot. Then Teddy, who was a Border
+laird of ancient lineage, as well as a Squire in Cumberland, with a
+solid rent-roll of four thousand a year, some thriving home-farms and
+a park of many acres, confided to Nurse that he was a poor
+man--without a rap beyond his pay. But if Lucy had no fear of
+poverty, shared with a poor broken wretch who loved her--one to whom
+the love of woman had been a sealed book until he saw her face....
+
+"You're getting too stuck on that Colonel man of yours, Burtonshaw!"
+expostulated a friend some hours later on, when the day-nurses went
+off duty. "Because when it comes to kissing Good-night--and I
+couldn't help but hear!--the partition between the O.C. wards being
+merely canvas! Of course you can trust me not to talk, though I hope
+you won't again!--a warm handshake as between friends being properer,
+and not against the Regulations--which I will say I never knew you go
+against before. Now own up. Am I right, or wrong?"
+
+"I did, I'll own it.... I do truly feel for Number 80," admitted
+Nurse Burtonshaw. "He's alone in the world and quite poor, though
+three hundred and seventy pounds a year, which is his pay--not
+counting War allowances,--seems like riches to little me."
+
+"Bless me!" cried the friend, "then you've actually clicked! ... He's
+asked you to marry him? ..."
+
+Nurse Burtonshaw demanded, with rather a defiant flare lighting up
+her well-opened grey-blue eyes, and with a decided deepening of the
+steady bloom on her broad, blunt-featured West of England face,
+nunlike in the setting of flowing white linen hiding the rich
+red-gold hair that was her one undeniable beauty:
+
+"Do you think I'd let him kiss me--a girl brought up like I've
+been--unless he'd behaved himself honourable? Not one of my friends
+can say a word--"
+
+"But what will _his_ friends say about you?" asked the other nurse
+acutely, "when they hear how you've fixed things? To marry a Regular
+Army toff, who not so long ago was queer in his head, and had to be
+mothered and seen to and fed as if he'd been a blinking baby--"
+
+Nurse Burtonshaw asserted:
+
+"He's well, and going to get his discharge next week. They say his
+cure's my doing. And he's got no friends. He's told me so, over and
+over again!"
+
+"That makes it better for you. And I'm not saying that you won't
+turn out a happy pair, not for a minute! Don't lots of patients
+marry their nurses and live happy ever after? And, whenever I've
+read your teacup, Fate has seemed to point that way. But as to his
+having no friends--that won't half wash!"
+
+"And why won't it?"
+
+"Just because your Teddy's a Society Toff, poor or not poor! Belongs
+to a crack Scotch regiment.... Gets lots of letters in lovely
+envelopes with the names of topping County places on some of 'em--and
+coronetted crests and monograms...."
+
+"The smart folks who wrote those letters don't count. Hasn't he told
+me? 'Not one of them,' he says,--'matters to me a straw.'"
+
+"He may have said so, but are you _sure_? I'm asking out of
+friendship. Wasn't there a woman--isn't there a woman who writes as
+if he mattered to her more than several stacks of straw? Oh, Luce!
+..."
+
+Nurse Burtonshaw stood her ground obstinately:
+
+"I've questioned him over and over.... 'I may have liked her, since
+she says I did,' he says.... 'But all the same, she's less than
+nought to me.... What did you say her name was?' he asks in that
+simple way of his." ...
+
+"And did you tell him?"
+
+"What does that matter to you?"
+
+"It'll matter to you one of these days, as sure as I'm certificated!
+And you told me she'd begged you to keep the letters until he was
+able to read them without hurting his head. You haven't given them
+to him! ... Straight--are you going to? Infirmary-trained we both
+may be, and not Hospital--but I hope we know what's due to the
+professions to say nothing of the Red Cross! When will you give him
+those letters?"
+
+Behind Nurse Burtonshaw's blue-grey eyes a red flame kindled. She
+retorted, confronting her interlocutor:
+
+"When he asks me to! Haven't I told you?"
+
+"Not much, you haven't. And about your first venture--with the
+Didlick boy--poor thing! Killed at Mons and buried no one knows
+where--are you going to tell him about that?"
+
+"I--am--NOT! ... Is that plain enough? ... Now let me get to bed!"
+
+When Katharine should learn that those letters, written from her post
+of service at the Receiving Hospital in France, and later from a
+London Nursing Home,--and later still from Kerr's Arbour,--had never
+been delivered to Nurse Burtonshaw's patient, would she
+believe--Yaill wondered dismally, or doubt like all the rest of the
+world, the man who had married the nurse?
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+He had told the girl, according to her, that though the letters on
+his disc proclaimed him Catholic, he was just as much a Protestant as
+anything.... And a Church of England clergyman--not the Chaplain
+attached to the Convalescent Camp--but the pastor of a Protestant
+church in the town had been consulted, and under his advice the
+Special license had been procured:
+
+Yaill had written to his Brigadier and Divisional Commander.... As
+for Nurse Burtonshaw, she had already applied to the Principal
+Commandant of the Women's Detachments and the Matron-in-Chief at the
+Front for her discharge. And obtained it--on account of her
+health,--she had always been anæmic,--and of late headache and
+indigestion born of chocolate-creams and cigarettes, of which Nurse
+consumed quantities when off duty, had troubled her a good deal.
+
+"And besides, duck," she told her pal, "if it comes to choosing
+between Teddy and my profession, my first duty is to Teddy. I do
+really think it was Providence prevented me signing on for the
+Duration of the War!"
+
+And so they had been married only a week ago. O God!--O God!--why
+had nothing happened to prevent the affair? Why hadn't the
+officiating Church of England clergyman had a fit or a belated attack
+of scruples? Why out of all the flotillas of aircraft scouring the
+charted skies on War's endless business, had not one (preferably a
+bomb-carrier) crashed on the roof of the church?
+
+They had had breakfast at the Conronne--where Brass Hats and Red Tabs
+did congregate and foregather. In the private room above the
+restaurant, looking across the short side of the gardens across the
+Ouai Clemenceau. The hotel was crowded with British khaki and French
+grey puppets playing the talky interludes that enliven the grimmest
+tragedy of War.
+
+Nurse Burtonshaw had looked her best in her off-duty dress of pale
+blue alpaca, with bishop sleeves, and black Red Cross buttons, a
+white lawn collar and cuffs to match--a black patent leather belt
+with a sprig of artificial white heather tucked in it, and a white
+straw hat with the regulation Service ribbon crowning her wonderful
+red-gold hair. Her Teddy's engagement-ring, chosen by herself, set
+with three smallish rubies--did duty as keeper to the plain gold ring
+he had placed--not quite an hour before--on her large, capable left
+hand....
+
+The popping of corks, the clinking of glasses, and the polyglot roar
+of male voices from the restaurant below, discussing the one burning
+topic of the day in every civilised tongue used on earth saving one,
+came to them as they ate their omelette and sole _matelotte_ at the
+round table in the big bay window--looking across the Quai upon the
+outer Port--crammed to the jaws of the long channel between the
+light-housed jetties--with Allied steamers of all imaginable grades,
+types and sizes: from Leviathan troopers, converted Cunarders and P.
+and O. boats disgorging endless streams of men, horses, lorries, guns
+and munitions; and Hospital ships ceaselessly swallowing processions
+of walking wounded and stretcher-cases--poured out from the long
+khaki-coloured Red Cross trains drawn up at the platforms--to
+T.B.D.'s, British and French mine-sweepers, submarines, American or
+Eastern oil-tankers, seaplane-carriers, Wireless Service boats and
+Canadian or Argentine cattle-ships. With a myriad others brought
+from the world's airts to serve this single end of War.
+
+Lucy Burtonshaw, now Lucy Yaill,--while eating her _déjeuner_ with an
+unspoiled appetite, saw with relief her newly wedded husband unmoved
+by this stirring spectacle; long unfamiliar to one laid-by for months
+in the placid backwater of the Convalescent Camp. His sad grey eyes
+swept the wonderful panorama without seeming to take it in.
+Presently they came back to her; and she smiled into them
+affectionately, as she laid down her fork, and spared her rather
+large hand, with its brand new wedding-ring under the ruby keeper, to
+give his a protecting, reassuring squeeze....
+
+"Ducks!" she cooed. (Lucy could coo.) "Sure all this hasn't given
+you a cooker of a headache?"
+
+He did not seem to hear. He was looking at the sprig of imitation
+white heather. She followed the direction of his gaze, and took it
+from her belt.
+
+"That what you're looking at? ... My bit of white heather! ...
+Pidge"--Pidge being the Hospital nickname of Nurse Pringle, the pal
+of some pages back--"Pidge gave it me 'For luck' when we said
+good-bye to each other this morning. 'Not the real thing, but as
+near as I could get for two frongs!' she said. Want it, Ducks?"
+
+She put in his hand Pidge's parting gift--a caricature of Nature with
+its gummed green-and-white paper leaves and bells, and trumpery glass
+dewdrops--and he stared at it as though it held the secrets of the
+Past and of the Future both....
+
+Perhaps it did for Ducks. For something wakened in him. Some
+atrophied nerve vibrated, it may be: some long-numbed brain-cell
+quickened into life....
+
+Who knows what change took place? ... At any rate, the sight and
+touch of the little shrub with the white-belled flower that grows
+amongst the purple ling of Northern moors and mountains, made Teddy's
+slowly-beating heart perform a curious demivolt. Remembrance began
+to waken from her hazy trance, or dream, or lethargy.... Somewhere,
+some time, Some One had given him a bit of white heather.... Some
+One, some time, somewhere--and the gift had meant the world! The
+round world floating in her ocean of air, and all the planets
+swinging in their orbits.... A woman utterly, unspeakably beloved by
+Nurse Burtonshaw's Teddy ... the woman, whose love had been sweet as
+the honeycomb of the Singer of the Canticles--fragrant as myrrh and
+ambergris and frankincense; the utter bliss of the body--the soul's
+bread and wine....
+
+ "_How beautiful are thy steps, O King's daughter! ...
+ How beautiful art Thou, and how comely my dearest, in delights ...
+ Thy stature like unto a palm-tree ... thy throat like the
+ best wine ...
+ Put me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm:
+ for love is strong as death: ... if a man should give
+ all the substance of his house for love he shall despise
+ it as nothing..._"
+
+
+"What are you mumbling, Teddy dear? Sounds like a bit out of the
+Bible."
+
+He lifted his dropped head and said, regarding his wife austerely.
+
+"It is as a matter of fact, something from the Canticle of Canticles.
+I once got the eight of them by heart, when I was a boy."
+
+"Oh--well! ... Don't mutter, but I thought it came out of the
+Bible...."
+
+"It does, as I said.... What are you doing?" For Lucy was twisting
+and tilting her coffee-cup, and peering into it curiously at each new
+tilt or twist.
+
+"Laying my cup--trying to read my fortune. Though you can't do it
+with coffee-grounds as well as with tea-leaves, and even with them
+I'm not a patch on Pidge. Who's Pidge, did you ask? ... Why, Nurse
+Pidge, my best pal, who gave me the bit o' white heather.... How you
+do stare--as though you'd never seen me before!"
+
+She trembled with alarm as she reached over to pat her Teddy's cheek.
+Had not Nurse Pidge, that seeress of things to come _per_ medium of
+"Best Household Black" or "Liphook's Luscious Tea-Tips" prophesied
+truly that Nurse Burtonshaw would reap the whirlwind over those
+letters in the Japanese box....
+
+She shivered as though a chilly draught had pierced her blue alpaca.
+Nurse Pidge had not let the topic sleep. She had reverted to it
+often in that odd _argot_,--(compound of homely, commonplace, modern
+English; up-to-date scientific terms; Public School, Clubland and
+Army slang),--which comes so trippingly from the tongue of the
+trained nurse of To-Day.
+
+Pidge had quoted her idol Wyers, Oppenshaw Wyers, F.R.C.S., of Harley
+Street, Lieutenant Colonel R.A.M.C. (T.), Consulting Surgeon attached
+to the Staff of the Base Hospital of which the Convalescent Camp was
+an offshoot.
+
+Who has not heard of Wyers, coarse, gross and tubby in his khaki, who
+showed the tenderness of an angel and the insight of a demigod in his
+dealings with shell-shocked men--victims of War's dire curse,
+hysteria--whose limbs and members, flaccidly limp, or strangely
+twisted and distorted, refused to obey the bidding of their owners'
+brains. Who, seized by epilepsy, would fall down foaming, or weep
+and sob like heart-wrung women; or stumble in their gait and speech
+like the infant members of a Kindergarten; or sit, staring vacantly,
+lost in a grey dream of infinite bewilderment--as Teddy used to
+sit--as Teddy was sitting now.....
+
+"Helpless and hopeless, beyond the aid of Science, dead to the voice
+or touch of old, sweet love, seemingly unhelped by prayer.
+Until--just as the stopped watch begins to tick on the removal of
+some globule of oil, or speck of dust that clogged the mechanism--the
+paralysed nerve thrills once more into life, the unlocated lesion
+heals, the infinitesimal blood-clot dissipates, and the man rises up,
+sane, freed from bonds, healed of his infirmity."
+
+Thus Wyers, as many other men no less great have said before and will
+say after him, honestly trying to deal with the problem that to the
+end of all Time will baffle the human race: "And how or why that
+change takes place cannot even be conjectured by any of us
+wiseacres.... Call it a Miracle if you will,--it's as good a word as
+any other. But until that Miracle takes place--and the Angel
+troubles the pool--Medicine and Surgery must twiddle their thumbs."
+
+Were the waters moving now? Edward Yaill's new-made wife asked
+herself, timorously watching him. When he had spoken in that new,
+masterful tone--looked at her with that new glance, so cold and keen
+and observant, a little shiver had run through her underneath her
+blue alpaca. The Miracle, she knew in her soul, would spell for her
+Disaster. Secretly she must have wished that the Angel would never
+trouble the pool....
+
+The best laid plans will gang agley. Nurse Burtonshaw, formally
+relieved of her duties by ukase from the Chief Matron on the Front in
+France, had quitted the Convalescent Camp on the previous afternoon.
+Two or three letters had been brought in on Number 80's
+breakfast-tray that morning.... A bill from a Bond Street tailor, a
+communication from Cox's Bank, London, and a square envelope of thick
+ribbed linen note with the Cauldstanes postmark, addressed in a
+clear, firm handwriting--a letter that would, one conjectures--but
+for the interposition of Destiny,--have joined its fellows in that
+Pandora casket, the Japanese Box.
+
+Teddy, always indifferent where correspondence was concerned, had not
+had time to read the letters, hurrying to tie the Knot that takes so
+much undoing. He had thrust his mail hastily into a breast-pocket of
+his Service jacket--it would well keep till by and by. Now he fished
+the letters out and laid them on the clean coarse napery of the
+breakfast-table, with another envelope containing two official
+leaflets badly printed on thin yellowish paper, duly stamped and
+_viséd_ by Military Authority, and having names and personal details
+filled in with red ink. Ensuring to Lieutenant-Colonel Edward Angus
+Sholto Yaill, etc., etc., late C.O. Tweedburgh Regiment of Infantry,
+Discharged from the Convalescent Hospital Camp B---- Base, and
+Proceeding Home on (indefinite) Leave--as to Lucy Alice Burtonshaw
+T.N. of such and such a Nursing Detachment. Invalided Home from
+Service in France under the British Red Cross--transit at the expense
+of the British Government, per steamer and rail to Folkestone, London
+and Coombe Bay, Devonshire. The passes arrested Yaill's eye. He did
+not open the letters. He thrust them back in his pocket; and said
+with a glance at the new, cheap silver wrist-watch that had been the
+wedding-gift of his bride:
+
+"We have just time to catch the boat without hurrying you, I think,
+dear!"
+
+And so they had gone out by the _Couronne's_ side-entrance to the
+debilitated fiacre that waited on the cobblestones in the cold bright
+forenoon, and for the moment the guilty fears that throbbed under the
+blue alpaca were lulled to treacherous rest....
+
+Old friends--these chiefly warriors going back on Blighty leave--came
+up to Colonel Yaill upon the Folkestone boat, with hearty greetings
+and crushing hand-grips. Service and Club acquaintances saluted and
+spoke. People were frightfully glad to see Yaill looking so beany,
+and generally tophole.... Every one was expecting soon to hear of
+his going back to the Front.... Meanwhile a rest--well-earned, by
+the Living Tinker!--discreetly combined with recreation, would soon
+set him on his legs. Country-house Bridge, and pillow-ragging, or
+London jazz and champagne-parties only good for lieutenants.... A
+bit of huntin' and a pleasant house-party just the thing, etc., what?
+... Shooting and fishing had generally gone to the dogs, all the
+junior keepers having been called up--but there were woodcock and
+snipe and hares--that place of yours in Cumberland must be stiff with
+'em! and up North--the Gala Water--or at a pinch--(the speaker
+twinkled knowingly)--the Rushet where it ran through the Kerr's
+Arbour property,--might supply a decent fish or two....
+
+So, as the Folkestone steamer pushed through the crowded War-traffic
+of the English Channel waters, chaperoned by the dim grey shape of a
+T.B. destroyer,--watched from the air by a pilot seaplane,--the
+desultory chatter ran on.... With a reference or so to the War news
+of the month-end; the German aircraft-raid on the Kentish coast, the
+Arabs of the Senussi dispersed in West Egypt, the impending
+declaration of War by Albania on Austria: winding up with a proposed
+adjournment to the bar for drinks; though Government-controlled
+Scotch, thirty-five under proof--and Government-brewed
+malt-liquor--cursed rotten swipes--eh, what? ...
+
+The speaker pulled himself up with a surprised glance at the
+fresh-coloured young woman in the white straw hat and the pale blue
+alpaca gown peeping from underneath a starred Regulation cloak, who
+had laid her rather large ungloved hand on the arm of the
+fellow-officer addressed, saying:
+
+"No! ... It wouldn't be good for you! ... Please not, Teddy!"
+
+"Beg pardon, Nurse! ... I thought my friend alone. Didn't seem to
+realise you'd got him on a lead. Quite right to give me the tip.
+Colonel, the invitation's off! ... Unless you'll pledge me in
+something soft; lemon-squash or ginger-beer!--pretty rotten, I
+expect!--or tea, or coffee. Perhaps Nurse'll join?" He thought as
+he screwed his eyeglasses tighter: "_What glorious hair! ... My
+favourite colour.... Yaill strikes me as rather a lucky kind of
+chap!_" ...
+
+"No, thank you!" Lucy drew herself up and looked at her husband.
+
+With that possessive hand upon his arm, Yaill hesitated the fraction
+of an instant, then took the header:
+
+"'No thanks!' for both Mrs. Yaill and myself.... We breakfasted
+rather late, didn't we, Lucy? ... Let me introduce Major
+Scales-Packard, my wife...."
+
+"Awfully delighted!"
+
+The eyeglass of Scales-Packard, who knew Katharine Forbis,--leaped
+out of its orbit as his eyebrows shot up under the peak of his cap.
+He grew red,--stammered something congratulatory, saluted and
+speedily vanished. And Lucy breathed more freely. Dimly she sensed
+that she had stepped across the frontiers of a new, and possibly
+hostile country. That man, Teddy's friend, had looked at her--when
+Teddy had introduced him,--as though she had been guilty of
+child-stealing....
+
+Had she? ... The question probed to the quick, so that she paled and
+shivered; and found relief in the solicitude her convalescent
+displayed: permitting Teddy in his new role of guardian and
+protector, to envelop her in plaids and waterproofs, to find her a
+seat upon the smutty leeward side of the grimy after-deck
+saloon-cabin--and supply her with Captain's biscuits and tea, both of
+War's villainous brand. Her mental qualms would have been justified
+had she overheard Scales-Packard confiding to numerous acquaintances
+on board:
+
+"See that tall, good-lookin' man with a blue Hospital brassard? ...
+That's Yaill, late C.O. of the Tweedburgh Regiment! Gassed and
+shell-shocked last September somewhere north of Loos.... Married his
+nurse at the Base C.O.C. and comin' home--poor silly blighter!--to
+break it to the finest woman God ever made--who's waited for him
+years and years."
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+There had been--Yaill remembered, staring into the red-gold heart of
+the fire, where sapphire and violet and emerald flames played over
+the burning turfs and hissing oaken billets, making as they devoured
+them a little purring sound;--there had been a little hitch over
+baggage when they got to Folkestone. Two heavy strapped cowhide
+trunks, recovered from Regimental Headquarters; now found to be
+lacking some necessary red or blue chalk lettering,--were nearly
+being shipped back to the Base. Battered, mildewed, smeared with
+whitewash, they presented a deplorable appearance on the truck with
+Teddy's brand new Gladstone, (War manufacture, of American cloth
+masquerading as leather) and Lucy's green canvas-covered box.
+
+The keys of the trunks had long been lost,--necessitating an
+explanation with the Representative of Customs. But Yaill had needed
+nothing that those leather trunks might contain during the three days
+they had spent in London, on the third floor of a vast caravanserai
+of a hotel, looking on the myriad-voiced Strand. But he had sent for
+a locksmith on the second day, and had fresh keys fitted. And on the
+morning subsequent to the arrival of the bride and bridegroom at the
+Tor View Hotel, Coombe Bay, he had gone into the dressing-room
+adjacent to their nuptial chamber, fresh from his bath, rumpled as to
+the hair,--and opened one of the battered receptacles in search of a
+khaki tie. Quite haphazard, and as chance would have it--on the
+top--between a mouldy Field Service mess-frock, and some khaki shirts
+with burnt holes in them made by red-hot shell-splinters--he had
+found a silver-mounted leather photograph-frame, much tarnished, and
+gone white in spots....
+
+The frame held a portrait of large panel-size, and at the back was a
+strut to stand it up by. He lifted the frame and set it up against
+the lid of the open trunk, on the top of the mouldy clothes, and
+Ah!--what a warm, rich, fragrant gale of memories blew through the
+man's sick brain and desolate heart as those dear eyes of Katharine's
+looked candid love into his own! Something like a cry escaped
+him--he choked it back fiercely....
+
+"Did you call me, Teddy?" asked his wife from the next room, where
+she sat in a blue Japanese kimono, brushing her wonderful red-gold
+hair before a modest display of nickel-silver-backed brushes and
+toilet-bottles. For through the partly-closed door of the
+dressing-room, or so it seemed to Lucy, she had heard a woman's
+name.... And to Lucy's Nonconformist mind, the woman a man cries out
+for must be his lawful married helpmeet; and if she isn't, then the
+wife has got a (legal, mind you!) right to know the reason why....
+"Did you want me, dear?" she reiterated,--and saw reflected in the
+toilette-glass behind her blue kimono-covered shoulders and round
+fresh country face--from which the bloom had faded suddenly,--the
+half-open door of the dressing-room close softly, and heard the key
+turn in the lock upon the other side....
+
+The chambermaid came through with Yaill's shaving-water, and said
+that the bath was ready for the lady; and Lucy went at once.
+Purposely prolonging her matutinal ablutions, so that Teddy had
+dressed and gone down to the coffee-room by the time she returned,
+much more composed in mind....
+
+When she came down the wide shallow staircase with its artificial
+palms in mock-bronze vessels, and British-made Turkey carpet,--he was
+waiting for her there.... The manager, an alleged Swiss, had given
+them a table in the window, and--sensing the honeymooners with the
+infallible instinct of his tribe--enclosed it with lincrusta
+screens--and placed by each cover a sprig of white heather of the
+artificial kind. It is strange how Fate and Destiny, twin-balances
+of the scales in which poor human lives are weighed, will be tipped
+one way or the other by gewgaws such as this....
+
+Within the glass of the photo-frame, against the knee of the tall,
+erect, womanly-gracious figure, was a withered sprig of the real
+white heather, plucked on the moors above Kerr's Arbour, and placed
+there by Katharine.... Against the raging heart of Yaill lay
+Katharine's latest letter.... He had found it on the dressing-glass
+with the notification from Cox's Bank, and the Bond Street tailor's
+bill.
+
+He knew that letter word for word. He saw the short, poignant
+sentences in the beloved handwriting written on the walls of the
+coffee-room, across the imitation-tapestry paper; on the white
+tablecloth and serviettes; on the alleged Swiss manager's
+badly-starched shirt-front, and smug dingy-pale face.
+
+He refused ham and eggs; broke War-bread toast, and drank down cup
+after cup of doubtful coffee, unseen by Lucy, who was fluttered by
+the observant lorgnette of a large lady, breakfasting with one obese
+elderly gentleman in the silver-grey of the Local Coast Defence
+Corps--and two tanned young men in khaki with shabby Sam Browne belts
+and sword-straps, sufficiently like the large lady, to be, as in fact
+they were, her sons....
+
+Now the large important lady--upon the shoulder-straps of whose blue
+serge jacket glittered the four-pointed gold star of a Commandant
+above the numeral of the Detachment--the honoured title of the Red
+Cross Society and the name of her County--happened to be Lady
+Ridgely, Commandant of a Convalescent Hospital for Private Soldiers,
+a large white mansion standing in neatly-kept grounds, above the Tor
+View Hotel, on the same side of the Torcliff Road.... For certain
+reasons of her own Lady Ridgely had taken to breakfasting at the Tor
+View Hotel; and being a rigid martinet _re_ the observance of
+Regulations, the sight of Lucy's pale-blue alpaca Foreign Service Off
+Duty dress had very much shocked her,--worn in combination with an
+officer so manifestly an invalid: "For even without his Hospital
+brassard, which he must have forgotten to take off--the man looked
+simply ghastly, my dear!"
+
+Thus Lady Ridgely afterwards, per telephone, (the receiver being held
+by her sister-in-law, the Deputy-Assistant Director-General of the
+L.L.W.S.L. at the London Headquarters)--and a cousin, as Fate would
+have it, of the protagonist. Of whom Lady Ridgely took no note at
+first, being wholly absorbed in the blue alpaca--and not unconscious
+of the fact that its wearer was embarrassed by the rigid glare of her
+lorgnetted eye.
+
+When at length she lowered the instrument, it was to signal the
+Coffee-Room Manager, alleged Swiss, who hurried to her side....
+
+"Kindly tell me the names of those two persons breakfasting at the
+table in the window. The invalid officer and the pale blue nurse,"
+commanded Lady Ridgely. And the alleged Swiss Manager of the
+Coffee-Room, relieved--for very private reasons, to find another than
+himself the object of Lady Ridgely's lorgnette--bounded away to
+consult the Visitor's Book in the vestibule-office--returned with the
+information, was thanked, and gratefully effaced himself.
+Subsequently interned under the Defence Of The Realm Act, upon
+conviction of communication by flashlight with certain undersea
+activities in the Channel--we are to see his pasty German face no
+more.
+
+The dreary meal came to an end. When his wife rose, Yaill went with
+her to the staircase-foot and said in a quiet, level tone:
+
+"You were so--kind as to put some letters of mine away in a box for
+me.... Might I ask you to be so good as to let me have them now?"
+
+She tried, poor goose!--a mingling of self-assertion and coquetry:
+
+"Give 'em you now? ... I like that tone of yours.... Now that we're
+married and one flesh ... I'm not at all so sure I shall!"
+
+He looked her full in the eyes and said to her quietly:
+
+"You will go upstairs to our--to your room,--and bring them to me
+here!"
+
+"Will I? ... Oh! well,--I suppose I must, since you're so set on it."
+
+She dropped her head like a sulky child, and mounted the wide stairs
+slowly. Yaill stood at the stairfoot watching, while the blue alpaca
+was in sight. She did not return. He followed, and knocked at the
+door of their bedroom. She cried "Come in" and he went in, to find
+her with a tear-stained, sulky, mulish face, standing at the
+bedside.... The Japanese workbox--a tawdry thing of imitation
+lacquer--was lying on the counterpane. She gulped to him that she
+had mislaid the key that opened the stupid thing. He responded:
+
+"Break open the box. I will buy you--others!"
+
+"My hands aren't strong enough!"
+
+She feigned that those broad, strong dairywoman's hands that had put
+up many a twelve-pound frail of muslin-enwrapped pats for the
+market,--that had held down delirious men upon their Hospital
+beds--were too feeble to break the flimsy lock of Japanese
+manufacture. He accepted her explanation with unmoved countenance.
+
+"Then be good enough to allow me!"
+
+The letters were in his hands. But even as they poured forth from
+their camphor-scented prison, so from his wife's swollen, trembling
+mouth poured a stream of wordy defence. He could hear the voice
+pleading now with its broad, soft Somerset accent....
+
+"How was I to be sure she told the truth? ... And didn't she ask
+me--and didn't you too--to put by the letters? ... Haven't I said to
+you over and over, when you swore how much you loved me. '_Tell me,
+Teddy, on your oath! Are you sure you're not engaged?_'--And you
+always swore you weren't, and that till you met me you'd never known
+what it meant to love any woman! Am I to be blamed--called wicked
+and treacherous--because I believed you? Oh, Ted!"
+
+He had ground his heel into the carpet beneath his feet, and set his
+teeth to keep back the curses he longed to shriek at her. That
+plump, fresh-coloured, well-proportioned, deadly-commonplace young
+woman would never know what murderous frenzy boiled in her Teddy's
+blood, and tautened his muscles then. But he crushed down the ugly,
+murderous impulse and said to her with elaborate gentleness:
+
+"I do not blame you.... I have not reproached you with--anything.
+And--I have spoiled your box, and you were fond of it. You shall
+have one ten times as good as soon as they can send it from
+Liberty's."
+
+So, with the promise of a new box instead of the smashed one, he
+carried away his letters, and went up on the moors where he might be
+alone to read.... And the larks were singing in the pale harebell
+skies of late January.... And the spicy smell of the larches, the
+raw-red trunks of the pines, and the rasp of the wintry ling
+underfoot reminded him of Scotland. And the rust-brown of the
+frost-nipped bracken was the shade of Katharine's hair. And the
+colour of the little streams, running crystal-bright over dead
+drowned leaves and red-brown Devon sandstone had the very, very
+colour of those beloved eyes.... Stars that would never now look
+down upon the slumber of their child....
+
+
+To Wyers of Harley Street, Lieutenant-Colonel (T) R.A.M.C.,
+Consulting Surgeon attached to the Staff of the Base Hospital in
+connection with the Convalescent Camp at B---- the Chief Medical
+Officer, was at that moment saying--Wyers having just returned by
+'plane from a professional visit to the Front:
+
+"You know Yaill left us for Blighty on Tuesday morning? I'm
+wondering whether it wouldn't have been better to have kept him on
+here a bit? Or have sent him to that Hydro at Les Bonnes Eaux."
+
+"Instead--" Wyers flicked off the ash of his inevitable
+Trichinopoli, and deftly picked up a little sheaf of papers clipped
+together from the big leather-topped writing-table in the C.M.O.'s
+official room. He reversed the chart, to glance with cool
+professional interest at the history-sheet behind it, and turned back
+to the doctor's card with the inky scrawl beneath the heading:
+
+"Discharged.... Convalescent" ... and the date of three days back.
+
+"Instead of striking him off the sheet with leave to get married! I
+don't see why not, for my part. He's as well as ever he will be,
+unless--you know my theory! And marriage may help him. Should,
+certainly--supposing him to have got hold of a woman of the right
+sort."
+
+"Ah, but has he? Query,--is she?" The Chief Medical Officer, deftly
+packing fragrant Navy Cut into a well-burned briar-root, looked up
+from his deft thumb-work, under an anxiously-puckered brow. "You're
+not aware that he's married the chart-nurse of No. 8. Hut Ward C.O.C.
+That little Burtonshaw--you remember Burtonshaw? Blonde and
+blue-eyed, faintly frisky, but a model of provincial propriety for
+all of that. And a good nurse--to do her justice!--now discharged
+invalided, after two years' Foreign Service with her unit of the Red
+Cross."
+
+"H'm!" The nod of Wyers conveyed his knowledge of Nurse Burtonshaw.
+"There's only one thing to say for a match of that kind. It may turn
+out successfully. One hopes of course it will. But for a man of
+that stamp--ultra refined, highly-bred, and used--going by what one
+has heard--" whatever Wyers had heard, he retained with Sphinx-like
+taciturnity,--"to a very different type of woman,--Happiness will not
+depend on his ultimate return to the normal,--do you follow? But on
+his stopping exactly where he is. For the Miracle wouldn't benefit
+him--under the present circumstances. Better for him that the Angel
+should never trouble the pool!"
+
+Thus Oppenshaw Wyers, who may or may not have heard the name of
+Katharine Forbis. But the Miracle had happened, Yaill had returned
+to the normal.... And the thin chance of happiness in an unequal
+union with the poor thing he had married--lay shattered into
+fragments at his unlucky feet.
+
+
+Sitting on a crumbling ledge of the grey-pink cliffs of Devon, he
+read his love's letters--that had come so much too late. Such fond
+womanly letters--and gallant and courageous, written from her
+Receiving Hospital in France, and from the Base--and from a London
+Nursing Home and from Kerr's Arbour.
+
+Here was one dated from the Receiving Hospital in Belgium in the
+previous April. It shall be quoted here:
+
+
+"MY MAN OF ALL MEN....
+
+"To-day I met a Tommy (one of a great many) on the frightfully muddy
+road that leads from Our Shop to the fighting-line. We were bringing
+down wounded--(Canadians chiefly). This long-legged, gaunt,
+black-a-vised man was going up with the Relief. A Jew
+unmistakably--going by his leading feature--and in evident trouble
+about a chum who had got crumped. So your Kathy, wangling a spare
+seat from under an orderly--undertook to convey Private Abrahams'
+chum back to Hospital...."
+
+
+Added some hours later:
+
+
+"There isn't so much wrong--and I'm going to drop a postcard to
+Abrahams in the Support trenches, to tell him so and cheer his heart.
+The queer thing about it is--that the moment I saw Abrahams--(whose
+real name is Hazel)--I felt I knew the man! ... Somewhere, his huge
+hooked beak and great shoulders have risen up before me.
+Somehow--this can't be love at first sight, Edward!" Ah, wicked
+Katharine!--"because my heart is so hopelessly lost to you!--somehow
+his very ordinary--rather Cockney voice wasn't quite the voice of a
+stranger. Oddly I felt that I could trust the man!--had trusted
+him--somewhere, in many a tight place! ... Newspaper has come in....
+Must stop here.... Finish this idiotic epistle to-night when I get a
+chance--"
+
+
+This bore a date in September, 1915.
+
+
+"MY PRECIOUS DEAR,
+
+"I've had your last letter. So you're lonely wanting your Katharine!
+My dear, don't be! I AM with you, though not bodily--yet in heart
+and soul. Please God--"
+
+
+There was a break. The handwriting of the rest was shaky and
+irregular, showing what storms of mingled emotions had swept through
+the writer.
+
+
+"This was begun the day before yesterday. I left off to read the
+News of the War. Read--Oh! my dearest--with what mingled joy and
+anguish, the story of the combined assault on Loos. My love, my
+love!--what awful loss! How you must grieve for your glorious
+regiment! Thanks to Our Lord and His dear Mother! you are
+alive!--you are alive! The report that you were missing was
+contradicted in a later bulletin. I've been crying until I'm
+hideous, for sorrow and joy and pride in you, my Edward! And, for
+gratitude that you're alive--and longing to be with you.... How I
+should love to pitch duty to the wide and rush away to nurse You!
+Wouldn't I? WOULDN'T I?--if it were only playing the game. But I
+must,--MUST stop here and do my job for the Red Cross. My own
+Edward--these silly X's are all meant for kisses.... The blots are
+where I've cried! ... Oh! how I've cried--how I would love to cry all
+over the shoulder of your dear khaki jacket. With love and such
+unutterable pride in my dear lover--Your own for this world and the
+next, please Heaven! Katharine."
+
+
+The third bore a date in October, 1916, and the address of a
+Distributing Hospital on a Base in France.
+
+
+"MY DEAREST DEAR,
+
+"I've been desperately wretched, writing and WRITING and never
+getting a scrap from you. Now comes a letter written by your nurse.
+She tells me that your dear eyes can't stand print or handwriting,
+and that even being read to is dreadful agony. Edward, how selfish I
+have been--and how stupid, with all my experience of the results of
+shell-shock--not to realise the extent and nature of my dear one's
+suffering! Now I beg and command you never to dream of writing until
+you are fit to! I have asked your kind nurse not even to read you my
+letters, until you are able to hear them without distress or pain.
+To think that loving lines from me should cause you suffering,
+Edward! And yet I understand, my own! how such a condition may
+exist. For the moment I leave off. They are beating the gong and
+some signal rockets have just warned us--"
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+Four hours later....
+
+
+"An attack by German bomb-carrying Taubes on the Hospital, in spite
+of air-scouts and L----s barrage of anti-aircraft guns. There is a
+British Army Corps H.Q. close by. I try to think they wanted
+that--and not really to bomb the Hospital with all those poor, poor
+bandaged men helpless in their beds.
+
+It was terrific. They got us with H.E. every time--and the Hospital
+looks like a squashed bandbox. But, you see, in spite of the Boche's
+worst, your loving Kathy stays alive. Casualties only three, thank
+God! A convalescent Tommy killed, an R.A.M.C. orderly badly wounded;
+and a V.A.D. ambulance-driving woman somehow got an internal
+injury--helping to carry some of the worst cases out of the blazing
+wards down into the cellars of the Commandant's house--luckily close
+by.
+
+Be prepared to find my next letter written from London, for I'm going
+to be invalided back to Blighty. Address, '_Hospital of SS.
+Stanislaus and Theresa, Copse End Road, St. John's Wood. Care of the
+Matron._' Don't worry the least bit! ... I'm tophole, though no good
+for driving. It will be a rest, really, for me. And by and by, if
+God is good--" crossed out--"He is, has He not saved you, Edward?--I
+shall come rushing over to B---- and carry you home. Home to
+Scotland. Oh, my dear, what it would be to have you to myself at
+Kerr's Arbour! All the memories of our happy days langsyne are
+waiting for us, Edward,--under the blessed old roof-beams, and on the
+moors and in the fir-wood--(miles of bluebells, you remember, in
+May--growing under the black-green trees)--and where wee Rushet winds
+away between the green braesides, to tumble into Teviot. I've still
+got some of the primroses we gathered there one April. Oh! the good
+times, before the dreadful War. Let us both look forward steadily,
+and hope, and pray, Edward,--that they may come again. If this is a
+dismal letter, forgive:
+
+Your Katharine."
+
+
+Another written a fortnight later, from London.
+
+
+ "HOSPITAL OF SS. STANISLAUS AND TERESA,
+ COPSE END ROAD,
+ ST. JOHN'S WOOD, N. W.
+
+"My DEAREST MAN,
+
+"The operation--quite a small affair, happily over, and your Kathy
+pronounced to be well upon the mend. I get the best of care at this
+dear place, where matron and Sisters spoil me. Everybody in town is
+overwhelmingly kind, and if I set down all the messages of affection
+and goodwill that I am charged with for you, and repeated all the
+admiring speeches that have been made to me about my sweetheart--I
+should need half-a-dozen sheets of letter-paper to write to you
+instead of one.
+
+"Are you able to read for yourself a little, dearest, or do you still
+depend on the kind offices of your nurse? If the answer is 'Yes' to
+my question, she has of course given you my letters. I have her
+assurance that she will do this on the very earliest opportunity.
+For I should not like her to read them to you, you know, Edward! For
+one thing, my epistolary style is open to criticism--and for
+another--what I set down for your dear eyes was and will always be
+meant for no other's. Ah, but you understand!
+
+"This is a dull scribble. But I'll do better next time. Too tired
+to write another. God bless you, darling!
+
+K. F.
+
+"If only you could write! ... I'm hungering for a line so. But
+not--not a scratch--if it's bad for you, my own!
+
+"K."
+
+
+There were many letters, and Yaill read them all, haphazard at first,
+and then in regular sequence, down to the very last....
+
+
+"KERR'S ARBOUR, TWEEDBURGH, N.B.
+
+"_January 20th._
+
+"Look here, Edward, can't you write, my darling? Your nurse sends me
+news of your wonderful improvement, for which I thank God, with all
+my heart and soul! But if you are so much better that you can read
+without pain and endure being read to, why not a scrap of a line to
+me? ... It seems to me that I have some right, forgive me for
+reminding you, to have news of you from your own hand, my dearest
+one.... Oh! to have to beg the bread of one's heart.... I was proud
+once--men used to say so. Now I am only your very lonely, horribly
+unhappy KATHARINE."
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+And yet until a door had clicked open in Yaill's brain, that
+handwriting had meant nothing. He asked his Maker in the depths of
+his wrung soul, why that Open Sesame of the bit of white heather--why
+the leather baggage-trunk with its guarded secret,--why the letter
+with its cry of wounded passion had come to the man who loved
+Katharine, too late?
+
+"_It seems to me that I have some right...._" Proud, delicate-minded
+Katharine. What suffering must have wrung that sad reproach from
+her, that cry of a wounded soul....
+
+"_Oh! to have to beg the bread of one's heart.... I way proud
+once--men used to say so. Now I am only your very lonely, horribly
+unhappy Katharine._"
+
+Lonely.... Unhappy, his joy, his treasure, his worshipped one....
+Well, Yaill would go to her now, though Hell's gulf yawned between.
+He had had this in his mind when he passed up the cliff-road,
+breathing the unheeded spices of the sea and the pine-trees, with the
+warm morning sunshine full upon his back....
+
+Now, sitting high upon the cliffs with the booming of the Channel
+waters in his ears and the mourning cry of the hovering gulls about
+him, he faced a dim crimson sun, going to bed in blankets of grey
+fog. The letters lay scattered on the grass between his feet. He
+gathered them up and buttoned them away safely in his pockets. Then
+he got up and went back to his wife at the Tor View Hotel.
+
+He would say he had been called away on business. She must stay
+there--the woman who bore his name, until he had seen his lawyers....
+He would provide for her generously. Things would be arranged, he
+told himself as he hurried down the cliff-road in the clammy,
+blanketing fog....
+
+The excuses were not received as easily as he had anticipated. He
+had left a sulky, tearful girl alone the whole day. And he came back
+to a resentful, jealous woman....
+
+He shuddered, remembering how he had bowed his head to meet the storm
+of reproach.
+
+Well, well! Forget,--now one was here under the dear roof of Kerr's
+Arbour, by the warm side of the beloved--the perfect, the ideal mate.
+He looked at her as she sat there by his side with her proud head
+bent, and the dark fringes of her dreaming eyes lowered upon the soft
+blush that graced her cheeks,--Love's exquisite carnation flag,
+always displayed for Edward.
+
+She was happy, poor, faithful soul, with just a little tang of guilt
+spoiling the happiness. Mark had been killed at Mons, and Julian had
+been gulped down by the insatiable War-monster; and Death had taken
+their father and hers, but her man of men was left. How could she
+help, by his dear side, being a little happy? She turned and gave
+him look for look, and his strength began to ebb away.
+
+Yaill's determination to play the game fairly was weakening. The
+barriers were breaking down. His tense muscles twitched, his blood
+ran liquid fire. In another moment he would have snatched her to
+him, stifled her surprise with furious kisses--assailed her virgin
+ears with frantic pleadings--but that a bell clanged at the hallward
+end of the corridor. Whishaw's asthmatic cough sounded outside,--he
+knocked and came in.
+
+The old man's lean figure, with its stooping, rook-like gait, was
+invested with new, dignified solemnity, his well-worn blacks, even
+the wide-flanged Gladstone collar that framed his frosty-apple chops,
+and the rusty-black silk neckerchief knotted under his chin, the
+short end sticking out at a perennial right-angle, while the other
+flowed over his starchless shirt-front, to lose itself in the hollows
+of his baggy waistcoat,--were as vestments of one readied for some
+sacerdotal rite. He carried a three-branched silver candlestick of
+antique form, with lighted wax-tapers, and a Missal bound in faded
+crimson leather was tucked under his other arm....
+
+"Ye'll be for the nicht-prayers noo, Miss Forbis? The Father has
+gane ben the chap_ell_, sae I juist bode to ring the bell."
+
+"We are coming now, Whishaw."
+
+Katharine rose, took a folded black lace veil from the corner of the
+mantelshelf, shook out its scrolled and patterned length--with
+firelight flashing through the dark transparency, draped it with one
+swift upward movement, over her noble head--and held out a hand to
+Yaill. He cursed the intruder mentally as he got up and the warm
+fingers met his own--because those wild words surging to his lips had
+been so baulked of utterance. But he took the Missal Whishaw offered
+him, and led his love out and down the long corridor--following the
+lean, black figure with its upheld light over the flagged pavement,
+whose uneven stones could be felt through thickness of matting and
+worn Turkey carpeting.
+
+Whishaw held open the Chapel door, Katharine passed in and Yaill
+followed mechanically; conscious as might be a man in a dream, of the
+mingled perfume of incense and flowers, of the hollow square of
+benches in the little nave, framing the long coffin on its
+black-draped trestles, with the tall brown wax tapers in their
+man-high wooden candlesticks burning at the head, and the sides, and
+the feet....
+
+Still as in a dream he bent his knee as Katharine sank down before
+the Presence in the Tabernacle, and rose up from her genuflection to
+take his hand again. He felt her lead him up the narrow aisle ...
+heard her say to that strange, familiar face, young-old, wax-white,
+framed in the shining oaken wood against the background of the narrow
+pillow:
+
+"Dear Father, Edward has come."
+
+And he knew as he looked on the still face of the old man, guardian
+even in Death of his House's honour--that those traitorous words that
+had been upon his tongue would never be spoken now.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+Katharine said to him next morning as they sat together at breakfast:
+
+"I am glad to hear of a good night's sleep. I fancied that you would
+rest better in your old bedroom, dear."
+
+Yaill said, rejoicing in the clear sparkle of her eyes, the fresh,
+sweet tinting of her cheeks, the gloss upon her springy hair, and the
+dozen other charming signs that proved her an early-morning woman:
+
+"You knew that I should prefer my langsyne nest of old-fashioned
+rosebud-chintz to any other. When I went inside and shut the door,
+all the old memories came crowding round me. The great carved
+four-post bed, the big blaze in the bowed Queen Anne grate, the
+General's arm-chair opposite mine--"
+
+"Where he always sat, dear love! to smoke that last good-night-cigar,
+that seemed to have no end." She blinked back a tear resolutely and
+Yaill said, feeling in the side-pocket of his Field Service jacket:
+
+"Here is something I found last night on the chintz-room
+chimney-piece." He displayed a blackened briar-root pipe with the
+initials E.A.Y. engraved on its tarnished silver mounting. "The
+first birthday-present I ever had from you. And in the camphor-wood
+William and Mary press"--
+
+"Your dear, shabby old shooting-suit. Lying there ever since August,
+1914."
+
+Men know so little even of the women they love. He never dreamed of
+the kisses and tears, the wild words whispered, the secrets told to
+that belted Norfolk-jacket of rough tweed, smelling of cigars and
+heather. Breakfast over, he filled the briar-root and went to smoke
+it on the terrace, while after conference with the housekeeper, and a
+brief visit to Mrs. Bell, who breakfasted in her bedroom, Katharine
+tied on a vast apron of blue and white checked cotton, covered her
+head with her black lace veil, and went to renew the Altar flowers,
+replace the burnt-out brown-wax tapers--and sweep and dust the
+Sanctuary.
+
+Her doubly-sacred duties done, and the prayer that followed ended,
+her heart flew back to Edward, and she went whither it tugged. He
+was pacing, bareheaded, on the gravel of the lavender-walk below the
+flagstoned terrace that ran before the drawing-room windows. His
+pipe was gripped askew between his teeth,--his hands were driven deep
+into his breeches-pockets. The frozen lavender-bushes were not
+greyer or dourer than his face....
+
+"_You dear! ... You dear! ... Come here! ..._"
+
+She imitated the blackbird's challenging Spring call, a quaintly
+pretty gift of hers; and he looked up and took his pipe out of his
+mouth, and his wintry face was gone--and it was Spring. He smiled
+and beckoned, and she hoisted her carnation flag,--unlatched the
+French window and was stepping out to join him,--when Whishaw's voice
+said behind her:
+
+"Miss Forbis, mem, there is a gentleman--"
+
+"A gentleman, Whishaw! But, of course, you mean Mr. Keller."
+
+"I'm no!" Whishaw retorted. "I'm no' meaning the lawyer-body!"
+
+"But I can receive no visitor! At a time like this..."
+
+Miss Forbis' dismay rang in her tones. Her dark brows straightened.
+Her mouth hardened a little as she turned to confront her servitor:
+
+"I'm no' saying stric'ly a veesitor," Whishaw amended: "A caller I'se
+ca' the body--gin need's be ca' him onything." As Whishaw showed a
+card upon a Benares silversalver, his red-rimmed old eyes blinked,
+and his frosty-apple visage assumed an expression of scandalised
+dismay. "I'm sair loth to bring my mistress sic' a message, an' the
+General's corp lying in the chap_ell_--an' the Funeral on
+Monday,--and yoursel' an' the Colonel set mourning by a maisterless
+hairth! But the big, black lad in khaki that rode oot on Alec
+Govan's motor-cycle frae Cauldstanes the morn's morn, is deid set on
+winnin' an answer from ye.... He says--an' Gude kens!--for a' his
+medal an' his wound-stripes, the man may be lying!--that ye're
+prepared to see him, an' hear what he has to say!" He added: "An'
+I'm boun' to testify, gin he's nae respeckitable the dougs are
+deceivit; for Bran an' Laddie an' Dawtie are fell freendly wi' the
+man."
+
+Yaill had approached the drawing-room window, by the steps leading up
+to the terrace from the lavender-walk. He had heard, and his heart
+contracted in a spasm of fierce suspicion, and his brows drew down
+over narrowed, glittering eyes. He watched the face of Katharine as
+she pondered over the card of the intruder. It at first occurred to
+him that the stranger had ridden over from Whingates with a note from
+Lady Wastwood, telling all. He had no sooner dismissed the idea than
+another took the place of it. That woman, whom he had left at Coombe
+Bay, had somehow discovered his destination. From her--and from no
+other--this urgent stranger came....
+
+"You will not think of seeing the fellow, Katharine? ... Under the
+circumstances you might very well decline." ...
+
+His voice, sounding strange in his own ears, brought Katharine's head
+round, and called her absorbed eyes back to his beloved face. She
+said, as Whishaw clacked his tongue noisily against his palate, and
+fidgeted from one gouty foot to another:
+
+"The name upon this card was familiar to my father. He told me some
+weeks before his death, that he looked forward with great interest to
+the coming of a Mr. Hazel--I suppose the Mr. John Benn Hazel of the
+firm of Dannahill, Lee-Levyson and Hazel, Insurance Brokers, of
+Cornhill--London--whose name is on this card.... I know it was his
+intention to offer Mr. Hazel hospitality. His family--I am told they
+are Jews of Palestine--has been for more years than I dare to
+estimate--closely associated with our own.... He has a right--should
+he wish to exercise it--to attend my father's funeral. Should he
+even ask to see him--I should not venture to refuse."
+
+Whishaw said, straightening his stooping back to soldierly erectness,
+and holding the Benares tray against the seam of his trouser-leg:
+
+"Vera' gude, Miss Forbis, mem. Will I bring Mr. Hazel here to ye, or
+show him in the morning parlour? 'My business wi' the leddy,' says
+he, 'is maist private, ye ken.'"
+
+Katharine's order to show the visitor into the morning parlour was
+forestalled by Yaill's saying:
+
+"Receive Mr. Hazel here. While you talk to him I shall smoke another
+pipe in the garden, if I may?" ...
+
+He hardly gave back the smile that accompanied Katharine's assent.
+She untied her blue apron and laid aside her veil. Yaill touched her
+hand swiftly with his lips, and went out again into the frosty
+morning sunshine, as Whishaw quitted the drawing-room, clacking
+softly yet....
+
+The door re-opened, showing his black, rook-like shape, bald brow,
+sharp, little red-rimmed blue eyes, and withered-apple-visage,
+plimmed into an expression of sour disapproval, behind the vast khaki
+shoulders of a huge man who stooped low upon the room's threshold,
+saluting its mistress with almost Oriental reverence....
+
+If the accompanying words had been: "Hail to you, O lady!" instead of
+"I'm glad to have the pleasure--" as John Hazel bent his gaunt
+shoulders and lowered his square black head before the tall, womanly
+shape that towered against its sunlit background of terrace and
+garden, woodlands and snow-tipped hills, Miss Forbis would hardly
+have been surprised. For his long right arm had shot out and
+downwards, sweeping back with the fingers incurved, to touch breast
+and lips and forehead. As he rose up to his great height of six feet
+four inches, and some invisible, resistless hand--with the weight of
+many centuries behind it--ceased to press down his head--the glamour
+of his Eastern salutation fell from him like a discarded robe....
+
+Katharine saw a big, raw-boned, brown-skinned man, of powerfully
+Semitic type, probably a year or two over thirty; too gaunt to be
+coarse, and too frankly middle-class in tone and manner to be
+mistaken for a gentleman. And somewhere--somewhere--she had met the
+man before....
+
+To John as Whishaw closed the drawing-room door and its owner moved
+forward with graceful, gracious greeting, the first sight of
+Katharine brought its disappointing shock. For it was not the woman
+he had unreasonably expected. Taller--he had only seen the Ideal
+seated, remember! Older, with great, sad eyes, rust-coloured as the
+withered leaves, surrounded with brownish circles. The rich
+carnations that had bloomed in the other woman's cheeks, under the
+peaked blue cloth storm-cap of Foreign Service, were missing. It was
+not she, but a woman who was like her! Extremely like her,--John
+conceded that. But older, paler, graver and more self-contained;
+without the gay good-fellowship, the heartening smile--the
+buoyancy--the atmosphere of youth....
+
+And yet, as he stood by the chair to which she had pointed, waiting
+impassively until she should have chosen and taken her own seat, he
+knew that he stood in the presence of his very liege lady, whom by
+virtue of an ancient oath one John Hazel was bound to serve, honour,
+reverence, defend and obey....
+
+He said to himself that he was glad the real Katharine Forbis was
+older than _that other_. More dignified, more reserved, and all that
+sort of thing. He was saying it again when the tall shape of a man
+in khaki passed the open window on his left hand,--there were four of
+these opening like doors on a level with the terrace--and a red spark
+kindled in John's gaunt black eyes,--because he knew the man again.
+He would deal with him presently. Meanwhile--he looked back at Miss
+Forbis, and roughly caught his breath. Who had deemed her less than
+young, with such eyes of gold and bramble-dew, and such roses
+blooming in her cheeks, as her wide, beautiful mouth curved in a
+happy smile. And that she WAS the Woman of the muddy road that had
+led in April, 1915, to the Fighting Line east of Ypres--there could
+be no doubt....
+
+"Then it _is_ you!"--broke from him.... "I give you my word that
+hundreds of times since that day on the Menin road, I've said to
+myself I'd know you again anywhere--even if they'd shown me your skin
+on a gate! But--up to this minute I've not been sure. Now I'm
+certain!"
+
+In the same breath she found him again:
+
+"Private John Hazel, No. 000, X. Platoon, F. Company, 4th Battalion,
+448th City of London (Fenchurch Street) Fusiliers! .... Well, I sent
+the postcard to tell you about your friend.... Wallis--you see I
+remember his name--shot in the shoulder with shrapnel. He wasn't
+very badly hurt. What!--you never got my message?"
+
+John grinned, showing his mouthful of big, white teeth.
+
+"No such gay luck! Fritz handed me a Blighty one that same
+afternoon, and I went down to the dressing-station dug-outs by the
+Meat-Tray Express--the Wheeled Stretcher Line, I mean!--and then back
+to the Base by the Gingerbread Chuff. Sucking your toffee.... My
+word! that was some toffee. I kept the wrapper a long time--till the
+nurses said it was germy, and pitched it in the fire."
+
+Her heart warmed to the familiar soldier-slang. She gave back his
+smile frankly.
+
+"I think," she said, "I knew you from the first. But how wonderful
+that you should be _the_ Hazel. The man my father"--She was graver
+and older now, with that shadow of grief upon her face "--the man of
+whose coming my dear father spoke, so often, and with such interest.
+And now you will never meet on earth. Why, I wonder why?"
+
+"Give it up. Altogether, this is a jolly queer stunt. So queer that
+I've left off being astonished. Wasn't it one of those old
+Shakespearian Johnnies who said: '_There are more things in Heaven
+and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy._' Not that I'm by
+way of cooling my heels outside Pit doors to see the Bard
+played--give me a tuney Musical Comedy or a rattling Revue! But all
+the same, old W.S. has got a knack of putting his finger on the
+spot,--now hasn't he, Miss Forbis? ... But you ... I heard of your
+being invalided Home. A strain, they called it. Did you get it that
+day near Ypres?"
+
+Katharine smiled. He remembered the smile, breaking over the face
+like sunshine....
+
+"Oh no! but in the September following, when the German airmen bombed
+our Hospital. You see, they'd set on fire, and--"
+
+"And you carried a man out. Hulking brute! Ought to have died
+before he let a woman lift him. And--where were the orderlies, I
+should like to know?"
+
+The blustering tone angered Katharine. "What business is it of
+yours?" was written on her stiffened face.
+
+"The man had no choice because he was unconscious, and the orderlies'
+hands were full. There were precious few of them anyhow.... Army
+Nurses and V.A.D. girls evacuated the wards before you could turn
+round. Lifting is nothing really--once you get the knack of it.
+And--in those days I was as strong as a man. A really hefty man, I
+mean!" She stretched out a long arm with slow, powerful grace,
+looking down its fair rounded length with critical approbation, and
+then rose up, impressing John not only by her splendid height, but by
+her air of authority, and supple grace of movement. She said, moving
+to an ancient rosewood writing-bureau, unlocking one drawer of many
+in its upper part, and taking a letter out:
+
+"Forgive me, if in view of the business in hand I remind you that
+we're side-tracking. This letter my father received on December
+21st. He gave it me to read--it is signed with the name upon your
+card--'John Benn Hazel.' Do I understand that it was written by you?"
+
+He explained, keeping his big, black eyes upon her:
+
+"From Colthill War Hospital, Middlesex. I was there when Old
+Mendel--when a confidential clerk in a relative's counting-house
+brought me--just as he'd received 'em from the East--a copy of my
+late grandfather's Will, and the documents and other things concerned
+in this business.... There has been delay.... I ought to have
+explained that a little keepsake here--a love-token from Brother
+Boche--" he tapped his big chest, somewhere above the left clavicular
+region--"kept me from getting on to the job before.... I'm really
+frightfully sorry!"
+
+"Of course. How could I forget your wound!" Her eyes softened as
+they took in the two gold stripes that graced his cuff, the bagginess
+of his khaki on the giant frame, and the brand-new ribbon of the
+D.C.M. "You have been only recently discharged from Hospital and are
+hardly quite strong yet. Are you?"
+
+"First-class. It only touches me up in the puff now and then, like
+hell--I beg your pardon!"
+
+John flushed darkly under his tough mahogany hide, and amended:
+
+"I meant to say that I lose my breath and can't get it back again.
+But this is side-tracking." It was Katharine's turn to flush.
+"About--about that letter.... You see, I regularly got the wind up
+when I sat down to write to your father.... And so--I naturally fell
+back upon the translated draft of the letter of instructions written
+by my grandfather before his death and sent me with his Will."
+
+Her doubtful face grew clear.
+
+"At last I begin to understand.... The original letter and the Will
+were written in Hebrew?"
+
+"Well, naturally, since Hebrew was the old man's native tongue, when
+he wasn't talking French or Modern Greek, or Arabic or Syriac...."
+
+There was a spark of humour in the visitor's cavernous black eyes,
+and Miss Forbis' wide, beautiful mouth began to curl a little at the
+corners.
+
+"This clears the air. Will you think me--I hope you will not think
+me offensively personal, Mr. Hazel, if I say that I found between
+your language and the phraseology of your letter, shall I say--a
+discrepancy that rather mystified me."
+
+"Sure that!"
+
+He pounded his knee as he used the Colonial word that the War has
+grafted upon our English speech for ever--and broke into his big
+coarse laugh, stopping short to glance at her mourning dress, and
+redden to his beetling eyebrows, and the cap of coarsely curling hair
+that capped his high-domed head, as naïvely as a schoolboy.
+
+But Katharine had forgotten to be critical. In glancing over the
+letter in the big black handwriting of this big-nosed, black-avised
+young man, its sentences had once more cast their curious glamour
+over her. Her lips moved soundlessly as she whispered to herself:
+
+
+"_To the present lord of the Towers of Kir Saba in North Britain, and
+in Palestine, be it known by the word of Eli Ben Hazaël, present Head
+of the House of Hazaël of Alexandria in Egypt, and Jaffa in
+Palestine._
+
+"_The sum of moneys lent by Issachar Ben Hazaël, Merchant, in the
+Year 1146 of the Christian Era to Sir Hew Forbys, Knight, upon the
+fields, streams, vineyards and groves with the Tower of Kir Saba in
+Palestine hath been recovered with the interest thereupon due. The
+Tower of Kir Saba with the groves, vineyards, streams and fields
+appertaining, stand free from debt. Therefore are the sealed
+writings returned, with the moneys that are over the sum of the
+indebtedness: by the hand of a son of the House of Hazaël, who will
+receive writings of acknowledgment for the same._
+
+"_Let the present lord of the Tower of Kir Saba in Palestine and in
+North Britain duly apprise the writer of this as to when it will be
+convenient to him, to receive the representative of Eli Ben Hazaël._
+
+_Kindly address:_
+
+ PRIVATE JOHN BENN HAZEL,
+ CITY OF LONDON (FENCHURCH ST.) FUSILIERS,
+ WARD NO. 8.,
+ COLTHILL WAR HOSPITAL,
+ MIDDLESEX."
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+Katharine looked up from the queer, absorbing letter, four pages of
+big plain note with the printed address of the Hospital, to meet the
+intent black stare of the representative of the House of Hazaël....
+
+She said, returning the letter to the envelope, and keeping it in her
+hand as she went back to her chair opposite him:
+
+"Your grandfather--was an old man?"
+
+"He was nearly a hundred years of age, and mentally in topping
+condition when the War happened and swept away all his sons and
+grandsons too, except my brother and myself. And that broke his
+heart. Peace be upon him!" added John without intending it.
+
+"Peace be upon him!" echoed Katharine Forbis. "I think that is a
+beautiful thing to say. He would have said it for my dear father had
+he known!" she added. "But they have met by now, in that good place
+where all good men foregather. Do you not think they have?"
+
+"My grandfather was a devout Jew," said the big fleshy-lipped mouth
+opposite her.
+
+"And my father was a faithful Catholic," said Miss Forbis. "And
+Catholics and Jews who have served God according to the light He gave
+them, are equal in His sight. Do you not believe so?"
+
+"I've never given much time to theological and--ar--ar--dogmatic
+questions. But at Lloyds it stands that all ships are good ships if
+the insurance has been paid. Now as to these documents and things--"
+John reached down a long arm and hauled out from under his chair a
+business-like bag of shabby cowskin. "Here in this bag you see, I've
+got the whole caboodle!" (Really this was a very objectionable young
+man.) "But first, if you don't mind, the rings have got to be
+verified. That black agate you're wearing--and this of mine...."
+
+He wagged a huge third finger. Katharine repressed a sense of this
+big, florid, hook-nosed young City insurance-broker's having taken a
+liberty, when she admitted, glancing at one of the large, beautiful
+hands lying lightly clasped together on her black lap:
+
+"It is odd. This ring--which is a family heirloom worn up to the day
+of his death by my dear father--and that you have on, are practically
+identical...."
+
+"With this difference, that mine is the original intaglio, and yours
+a facsimile of the design in relief. The 'mate to the gem' I rather
+think they'd call it." He looked at the black agate with the head of
+Hercules shouldering the club, and crowned with the lion-mask, once
+the signet of Philoremus Fabius, given by his patron to Hazaël the
+Jew.
+
+"Would they? ... Oh, well, it's possible!" Katharine admitted. He
+went on:
+
+"I was given to understand that this is no end of an heirloom. Been
+handed down in my grandfather's branch of the family--the trunk, I
+suppose I ought to call it--since the year 308...." He rubbed the
+antique greenish-gold setting on his sleeve, and looked at it
+closely, then drew it from his big third finger, and rose up from his
+chair.
+
+It seemed to Katharine Forbis as though he would never have finished
+getting up. With a strange sensation she also realised that she was
+up against Antiquity and Tradition, in the person of this Territorial
+Tommy grafted upon a Cornhill insurance-broker; who spoke the
+colloquial English of the City, mingled with the slang of the camp
+and the trenches,--as a foreign language painstakingly acquired.
+Great as was her sense of race, it was belittled by Hazel's, with
+that history behind him that was written by the Eternal Finger on the
+living rock of Sinai....
+
+And he was towering over her as she sat there--salient,
+masterful--endued with an authority ancient as the hills. Saying in
+his deep bass tones as he bent over her:
+
+"It need not take a moment, Miss Forbis, but the form is absolutely
+necessary. It proves beyond doubt that you are you, and that I
+am--whom I say I am! ... May I ask you to hold out your left hand!"
+
+She obeyed him, lightly resting the downward-turned palm of the hand
+that wore the black onyx upon the upturned palm of Hazel's. Now he
+brought the faces of the rings together, carefully adjusting them
+until the intaglio of his own ring covered the relievo of its
+counterpart, and the gems wedded into one chipped and shabby black
+onyx square....
+
+"Good!" The young London business man was once more merged in the
+Jew of Syria. "There could be no proof more convincing than the
+marriage of these gems." He lifted his hand, and the rings were two
+again--and Katharine saw him return to his chair and become once more
+a large young London Territorial grafted on an insurance-broker, of
+Cornhill, E.C.
+
+"Now I must hand you over these...." He was opening the cowskin bag,
+dipping in his big hands and bringing out--were these shrivelled
+things parchments? Wrapped in squares of faded yellowish silk,
+tanging the homely-sweet atmosphere of the room with myrrh and
+benzoin and other Eastern odours, spicy, pervasive, suggestive and
+queer. "First of all--" he handed the surprised Katharine the flat
+wallet of mouldy parchment sewn with antique silkworm gut--"this
+contains the original Title Deed of the Tower of Kir Saba, with the
+fields, streams, wells, vineyards and groves appertaining, granted to
+the Tribune Justus Martius of the Tenth Roman Legion by the divine
+Emperor Vespasian, on the tenth day of August in the second year of
+his reign...."
+
+He paused to explain that the year was A.D. 70, when the old Roman
+Johnnies under Titus took the temple at Jerusalem, and then dealt
+with the remainder of the documents from the deed of mortgage between
+Sir Hew Forbis, and Issachar Ben Hazaël in the year 1146, down
+through the lengthy list of accounts and vouchers, the latest cleanly
+typed in purple ink on yellowish Levantine foolscap in the Jaffa
+offices of Messrs. Abel Manasseh, Ephraim and Co. Winding up:
+
+"And I think you'll agree with me, Miss Forbis,--what with Wars,
+earthquakes, locusts and dry seasons; the raids of the Saracens and
+the Third and Fourth Crusades--not forgetting the Fifth in 1197 when
+Pope Innocent III issued a Bull dooming the people of the Ten Tribes
+to perpetual servitude,--that during what we Jews have got some
+excuse for calling the Dark Ages--there was nothing doing to any
+extent in the wine- and olive-trade."
+
+"You talk," Katharine murmured, "as though all this happened
+yesterday."
+
+"Speaking in my sense," said John Hazel, "it happened in December
+last...."
+
+He went on,--seeming to feel his way,--garnishing his sentences less
+and less with the argot of the City and the slang of the
+trenches,--falling unconsciously more and more into the dignified
+archaic English of the translated typescript:
+
+"Christianity had a grudge to work off on us Hebrews. When one of
+those jolly old mediæval jossers wanted to cleanse his crime-stained
+soul, he had it rubbed into him at G.H.Q. that the best Sapolio was
+the blood of a Jew. If kings or nobles wanted to raise an extra bit
+of pocket-money, they'd only to squeeze a Jew between a brace of
+paving-stones"--Katharine shuddered--"and drain away the gold.
+Between imposts and confiscations, spoliations, expulsions and
+massacres, not only in Syria but in West, North and Central
+Europe,--we Hazaëls had hardly a fighting-chance to develop our own,
+or another's property! The lands of Kir Saba had long lain desert
+round the ruins of the Tower,--when my ancestors were driven into
+Spain, to join the Sephardim there.... In Spain we struck root and
+prospered, they tell me. Near the end of the fourteenth century
+Spain became too hot for us. With luck at low-water-mark and all the
+hounds of Torquemada's Inquisition baying at our blistered heels, we
+flew the coop into Mohammedan Turkey--and under the protection of the
+Infidel we spat upon--Sultan Bayazet the Second--settled on friendly
+soil and held up our heads again. By the middle of the Eighteenth
+Century things began to pick up. An astonishing discovery,
+originally touched upon by Shakespeare in _The Merchant of Venice_
+blazed like a meteor--I've seen meteors blaze in France, but they
+were nothing to the German star-shell!--across the mentality of
+intellectual Christendom. 'The Jew pays better as a citizen than as
+a pariah. Pen him in the Ghetto and he cuts no ice--because Gentile
+laws cripple his energies. Let him out--he will be more useful
+still! His money is the golden manure of successful speculation.
+His Jewish brains are the pith and marrow of every progressive plan.
+In Law, Literature, Science, Poetry, Music and Art the alien
+leads--only God knows the reason!'"
+
+The great clenched fist struck the mantelshelf heavily, making its
+vases of ancient Persian pottery tremble on their ebony pedestals:
+
+"Fools! When He showered these flaming gifts upon the leaders of His
+Chosen People--did He not know that the Jew of all men would use to
+most advantage what he had received. So, from the kick-ball of the
+Dark Ages he has become the hub of Civilisation. The golden grease
+that oils the World's axles as it spins between the Poles!"
+
+He pulled up and looked at his listener like a man suddenly awakened.
+His big black eyes burned with a dull red glow in their gaunt caves,
+and his bluish-shaded temples and prominent forehead shone with
+little beads of wet.
+
+"These things were nothing to me once," he explained with a rather
+embarrassed shrug of his shoulders, "and now they pretty well run the
+show. Awfully sorry if I've talked too much about ourselves, Miss
+Forbis. But an explanation's necessary, especially after"--his big
+white teeth showed as he smiled--"our failure to hand in our accounts
+for nearly nine hundred years. Of course we have kept a base in
+Alexandria since the beginning of the Fourth Century, and later we
+established branches in Smyrna, Constantinople, Malta and so on....
+But it wasn't until 1833 that we got foothold in Palestine and the
+vineyards of Kir Saba began to bear again...."
+
+"You make wine there?" Katharine asked with interest.
+
+"We used to, on rather a big scale. We have, or rather, we had
+vaults on the property, on an area of about 5 _hectares_--(we use the
+French method of mensuration)--with cellars and fermentation-rooms
+for use in vintage time, and an ice-machine and dynamo for running
+the machinery.... The Turks have smashed all that by now, and blown
+up the vaults I daresay,--as they did our vaults at Rehon and
+Zicron-Reuben. But I don't expect they let much of the wine run to
+waste. There are too many German officers with the Sultan's Army
+Corps--and our Medocs and Sauternes--sweet wines--to say nothing of
+our special Tokay--would be likely to appeal to 'em! Now may I
+trouble you with this cheque for a balance due to you."
+
+He handed Miss Forbis a pale green-and-blue slip, representing a
+draft Payable to Order upon a London Branch of the _Crédit Lyonnais_
+for £8,149.16.10, and requested her acknowledgment for the same.
+
+"Please to write 'Received by cheque--'" (Did he guess what a
+wonderful windfall that eight thousand dropped into her lap at this
+pinched juncture, seemed to Miss Forbis of Kerr's Arbour, with an
+income reduced to microscopic proportions by the War-slump in Home
+and Foreign Securities.) "That's the best way to word it." He took
+the acknowledgment from her, adding: "That's posh!--I mean, correct!
+Perhaps you would kindly keep my card, in case you needed help of any
+kind--that I could possibly give."
+
+Something in the tone made Miss Forbis look round from the
+Chippendale writing-chair in front of the old rosewood bureau to
+whose drawer she had transferred the papers, and the pale green and
+blue cheque on the _Crédit Lyonnais_.
+
+"You are most kind, Mr. Hazel, but there can be no legitimate reason
+why I should trouble you...."
+
+"There's a reason, if it comes to that, and a thundering good one!"
+
+She laid down her pen and turned to him in smiling inquiry:
+
+"We of the House of Hazaël are bound to serve you and yours.... It
+follows that we do so."
+
+"You do not mean that you are bound by any provision or clause in
+that old mortgage of the Tower?"
+
+He returned in the calm authoritative tone that alternated so oddly
+with his modern slanginess:
+
+"I speak of a great debt of gratitude incurred by a remote ancestor
+of mine to an early founder of your House--Philoremus Florens Fabius,
+Prætor of the Egyptian taxes at Alexandria--at the close of the Third
+Century, in my ancestor's early youth."
+
+"'Philoremus Florens Fabius, Prætor of Egyptian taxes at Alexandria.'
+..."
+
+She leaned her cheek upon her hand, thoughtfully repeating the name.
+And all that was noble, patrician and austere in her proud, frank,
+healthful, vigorous beauty irresistibly appealed to the man who
+looked on her. Not at all in the sexual sense, though his was a
+sensuous nature. But once and for all he throned her in his heart as
+the noblest, dearest, most worship-worthy of living women; and knew
+that she would reign there as long as life should last....
+
+She seemed to have forgotten John, so unrebuked he feasted, revelling
+in the grace of the long limbs, the fair hands lying folded together
+in her lap, the exquisite bend of the musing head upon the long white
+throat. No beauty she owned but went home to him with a sudden
+poignant joy of recognition, such as a man might experience, if,
+after years of hopeless separation, he were to find himself face to
+face with a beloved friend:--"As if a chap with a bayonet had jabbed
+me in the ribs!" he thought,--puzzled by the bliss that
+hurt,--reverting to Private Hazel.... And then he caught his breath,
+for her eyes had come back to his again. And they were kind as she
+asked:
+
+"This money--this eight thousand pounds odd, you have just paid me.
+Can your firm afford to part with so much, when you have suffered
+such losses since the Turks joined the War?"
+
+"We've got a bit put by against a rainy day." His face was mask-like
+in imperturbability as he recalled that trifling balance of
+three-hundred-and-eighty-thousand. Noting the smoothing of the
+slight, anxious line between Miss Forbis' handsome eyebrows, John
+guessed that the family were not over-flush. Who knew but that the
+eight thousand hadn't dropped into the lap of Katharine in the very
+nick of time. Proving his acumen, for indeed those unexpected
+thousands were a Godsend. But she was saying with a rather
+bewildered smile:
+
+"I shall take a little time to get quite used to the idea of having
+property in the Holy Land.... And how odd that there should be one
+Kerr's Arbour here--and another over in Palestine--and that my father
+should never have heard of the existence of such a place!"
+
+"The papers will make all that clear to you.... And--'Kerr's Arbour'
+is merely a corruption of 'Kir Saba,' as Kir Saba is a contraction of
+Kirjath Saba. The Tower of Kir Saba in Palestine has given this
+place its name.... 'The Walled Place of Saba' is the English
+translation from the Hebrew."
+
+"Good Heavens! ..." murmured Katharine.
+
+The huge dark man got up from his chair and leaned an elbow on the
+mantelshelf, and went on speaking in a deep slow tone that seemed the
+very voice of Time....
+
+"The Philistines built the stronghold in the Year of the World
+1160--when they came from the nor'west in their bird-beaked galleys,
+with shields set round the carven bulwarks, and scarlet lug-sails....
+They set their ships on waggons drawn by great teams of oxen, and
+pushed up from the southward into Northern Syria and took the Coastal
+Plain.... Ashdod was Aasgaard then, and the Sons of Odin held revel
+there--with deer and hogs roasted whole, and barley-loaves baked in
+the ashes, and wine and beer and mead. Making sacrifices and
+libations to the stone image of their bearded long-staffed god, with
+the high hat and travelling mantle--just as blue-painted Teutons with
+long yellow hair, worshipped the wooden effigy in the clay, wattle
+and tree-trunk temples of Alemannia--and under the tall
+hanging-stones of Britain's Holy Rings.... But it was razed to the
+ground--I speak of the stronghold later known as Kir Saba--in the
+time of Solomon the King. And when King Solomon,--peace be upon
+him!--gave the City of Gaza to Balkis, Queen of Sheba,--woman-like
+she coveted, and asked, and got for her asking, the new Tower built
+by the King among the vineyards north of Joppa--that were famous for
+the greatness and sweetness of their grapes."
+
+He removed a great brown hand from the marble to rub his forehead,
+and went on in the deep slow tone:
+
+"Long after the glory of the King, like the beauty of the Queen--had
+passed into a dusty legend,--the Philistines possessed the land once
+more. And Kir Saba was destroyed again,--and again rebuilt--and
+burned, as I have said, by the Kharezmian Tartars in the year of the
+Christian Era, 1244."
+
+He coughed, stuck a thumb in his belt and continued in quite a
+different tone:
+
+"As for the building as it stands now--supposing the Turks have left
+any of it,--it dates from somewhere in the Tenth Century, rather more
+than a hundred and seventy years before the time of Sir Hew."
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+"Ah, yes, Sir Hew! ..." Katharine responded. "Naturally as the
+builder of Kerr's Arbour, Sir Hew's name is more familiar to us than
+that of many a later ancestor. I will except Sir Mark, at whose
+portrait you are looking now...."
+
+Her glance followed her visitor's to a noble Vandyke canvas set in
+the panelling above the mantelshelf.
+
+"'Sir Mark Forbys,'" John read out from the rusty-gilt lettering
+beneath, "'Captain-General In The Royal Forces, 1645. Killed At The
+Battle of Naseby.'"
+
+Below the lettering was the coat-of-arms whose faded gilding shone on
+the courtyard-gates. The jut of the hooded hearth, below the narrow
+mantelshelf, showed the coat again, sculptured in bold relief: and
+wrought in enamel on the guard of Sir Mark's sword--embroidered on
+the crimson scarf that crossed his breast, and on the corner of the
+velvet saddle-cloth of the Arab charger held in the background by a
+handsome waiting page; the three silver scallop-shells on a _fesse_
+between two chevrons black and gold, were topped by the crest of the
+wolf's head, scrolled with its legend, indecipherably minute, or
+clear and plain to read:
+
+ "FORBYS FOES FA"
+
+
+John's eyes softened as they rested on the brilliant, clear-cut face,
+of which Katharine's was a softer feminine replica. For all the
+laces, velvets and silks of his splendid figure in its damascened
+steel-plate, with the rich brown curls hanging in heavy masses on the
+rose-point of its Stuart collar, Sir Mark bore the cachet of a
+dominating race. A proven blade in a velvet sheath, a fighter for
+all his frippery....
+
+Bringing his glance back from the portrait to Sir Mark's living
+descendant, John Hazel, with a queer thrill of proprietary pride,
+promised himself that the foes of this Forbis should not for want of
+a champion, remain standing upright!
+
+Had she an enemy? If so, let him look out for himself if ever John
+Hazel had the chance to get at him. And then, with a sudden blinding
+flare of recollection--as though a searchlight had found at last a
+thing that had been hovering in the dark of
+semi-forgetfulness--beyond the range of active consciousness--came
+the memory of the story heard in the train--the incredible tale of
+Katharine's betrayal--the dreadful news that soon would have to be
+broken, that might come crashing down upon her any moment now....
+
+Treacherous hound.... Damnable, lying, sneaking--No! The face of
+the man seen upon the day before, rose up in Hazel's memory. Not a
+face easily forgotten. Thin, brown, handsome, refined,--with
+straight, clear-cut features, and-grey, miserable, desperate eyes....
+
+Again Katharine addressed John Hazel, and he started. His heavy Army
+boot ground on the kerb of the fireplace as he turned to answer her.
+In the same instant, beyond and behind her as she sat before him in
+her chair,--framed in the open glass-doors of the more distant of the
+terrace-windows,--he saw the tall khaki figure and the haunted face
+of Yaill.
+
+Their looks met. Something in the nature of an appeal and a reply
+passed between the gaunt black eyes and the miserable grey ones.
+Then the tall khaki figure moved on. Not so swiftly but that the
+sound of his booted footsteps on the terrace tiles reached the keen
+ear of Katharine. Her head turned the fraction of an inch towards
+the window ... a wonderful light broke over her, transfiguring,
+irradiating.... Marvel of marvels.... John Hazel found himself
+looking for the first time in the face of Beautiful Love.
+
+Love.... Not at all the kind of love familiar to John Hazel. Not
+the cocktail-kindled emotion of the restaurant or supper-club. Not
+the love of a Birdie Bright or any of her venal sisters,--but the
+love of a clean-souled, pure-hearted Katharine for her chosen lover,
+her one "Man of all men."
+
+Submerged for a moment in a great wave of emotion, John Hazel caught
+his breath, reddened and gulped. Such facial characteristics as a
+prominent forehead, tanned and tough-skinned as the knee of a
+Highlander, and capped with wiry closely-curling hair of inky
+blackness,--the heavy smudge of eyebrows thatching those glowing
+eye-caverns--the great salient hooked nose, coarse fleshily-lipped
+mouth and portentously lengthy chin with a cleft in it--could not be
+said to constitute a sympathetic visage. And yet, Katharine found
+herself seized with a sudden, irresistible conviction that this
+strange young man was sorry for her....
+
+Just as she had caught a passing glimpse of Edward, her man of men,
+her precious dear one!--pacing the terrace up and down in the nipping
+sunshine, threading the frosty garden-walks with no better companion
+than his pipe to cheer him, until his Kathy should bestow her company
+on him again....
+
+Sorry. Why should the grandson of Eli Hazaël be so sorry for
+Katharine Forbis? For the man had pitied her--it had been written in
+his face. Ah, now Katharine understood, and understanding, blushed a
+little. Mark had been killed.... Julian was Missing, and--when
+to-morrow's solemn rites should be concluded--and that dear sleeper
+be carried from the chapel to rest in the Forbis' vault under the
+shadow of the Tower--Katharine would be alone....
+
+Utterly alone, had it not been for Edward. Oh, thanks to God! for
+that gift of his faithful love. And what was the deep bass voice of
+this extraordinary John Hazel saying? She roused herself to
+attention with a little, secret sigh:
+
+Edward was waiting for her in the garden after long years of
+separation, but Father would have wished her to be particularly
+gracious to this queer young man from Cornhill. Father had looked
+forward to his coming with extraordinary interest.... He would have
+towed him off to his den; and they would have been boxed up hours
+together, questioning and answering.... And you would have heard the
+Jew's big voice booming down the gallery in spite of the thickness of
+the old oak door....
+
+She broke a silence that grew awkward, saying in her mellow tones:
+
+"About the borrowing of the money for the building of the Tower, here
+on our Scottish Border, there must be some story.... He--my
+dearest--" her thought went tenderly to the sleeper lying not far off
+in the sacred silence of the chapel--"he always said there must be
+one, and that we should light on it some day. We have our legend
+about the Roman tribune Marcus Fabius (who must have been a son of
+Philoremus Florens Fabius). He was bred by a community of Coptic
+monks in Egypt, and came over to Britain in the service of the
+Emperor Constantine. But beyond his signature appended to a queer
+lead-sealed parchment covered with crabbed brown Gothic
+handwriting--a kind of Twelfth century builder's estimate--kept with
+other family papers in our strong-room--where the wonderful crumbly
+Title Deed of Kir Saba and all the rest shall join it presently!--of
+Sir Hew, hardly anything is known."
+
+"I'll tell you what I've crammed of Hew." The speaker went on,
+feeling for his sentences, sometimes using the excellent if archaic
+English of the translated letter, other times reverting to modern
+slang: "He was a Crusader who had served Baldwin I, King of
+Jerusalem"--(the thick mouth under the cropped black moustache
+sneered a little)--"first as page and cupbearer, afterwards as
+body-squire, and later on as a Knight, in Baldwin's last campaign of
+1118. He got what one might call a Blighty wound--an arrow through
+the fleshy part of the thigh--in 1145--driving the Egyptians under
+Nureddin, their Sultan, out of the castles and coast-towns of
+Palestine; and the fever of the country--malaria, we'd call
+it!--seems to have given him beans. But being recovered of his wound
+under the care of Issachar Ben Hazaël, who tended him as his own son
+in his house near Joppa, he rebuilt and adorned the Tower of Kir
+Saba, which had been held as a fortress by the invading Paynims--that
+means the Egyptians under the Abbasside--and then 'wearying of
+Palestine'--this was in 1146--'bethought him of quitting the Holy
+Land and returning to Britain straightway.' ..."
+
+Katharine was listening, fair cheek on white hand, as some
+twelfth-century lady of the Forbis race might have listened to the
+tale of Hew....
+
+"But want of boodle intervened, according to Hew's chronicler.
+Restoring castles even in those days, sometimes spelt bankruptcy, and
+'_being impoverished_'--I'm quoting from a contemporaneous
+document--'_firstly by the great cost of hewn stone and timber; and
+secondly by his excessive love of good wine, feasting and
+prodigality; the shows of jugglers, the songs of minstrels--and the
+company of the daughters of Delilah, this Knight cast about to raise
+money upon loan._'"
+
+The narrator broke off to comment:
+
+"A sporty boy, Hew, evidently,--and not the first Brass Hat who's
+enlivened his H.Q. on a War Front--with imported talent and
+beauty--of the Musical Comedy kind. So being short of cash to settle
+his accounts, and charter ships to carry him home, and incidentally
+rebuild the Tower of Kir Saba in North Britain 'so as to make the
+dwelling seemly for a lord of his estate,' Sir Hew engineered a loan
+from the Jew, Issachar Ben Hazaël of Joppa--the Joppa of those days
+is Jaffa to-day,--and the facts I'm giving are taken from a letter,
+written in the Twelfth Century _lingua Franca_, and the usual Gothic
+hand. I've a translation as well as the original, which of course is
+our property.... Means nothing to me but brown scratches on mouldy
+sheepskin, though to my pal Harding, ex-Curator of the Mediæval
+Manuscript Dep. at the British Museum--it would have been toffee and
+peppermint-rock. First-class man, my pal Harding--killed last March
+at Richebourg St. V." He answered Katharine's look of interrogation.
+"A German prisoner shot him from the rear, in our trenches.... And I
+went balmy and laid out the Hun! ..."
+
+"You mean that you--killed the prisoner who did it?" Miss Forbis'
+cairngorm eyes were cold and judicial in their regard.
+
+"Exactly." John nodded, and Katharine told herself that the man was
+a brute as well as a bounder. "But I seem to have been getting away
+from Sir Hew...."
+
+"Perhaps you have!" Sarcasm was lost upon this pachydermatous
+person, who murdered prisoners in calm defiance of the Geneva
+Convention. "Why did he want to build another Kir Saba here on the
+Border?"
+
+"Because--though he'd got a Tower here already, he didn't consider it
+seemly for a lord of his swagger, being only 'of great stones
+unmortared and unbevelled, standing inside a paled enclosure of
+wattle and posts and earth.'"
+
+"Then that is why the old chronicles call it a pale-tower?"
+Katharine's interest was eager and vivid now....
+
+"A pale-tower. I expect so. And the bags of French gold were wanted
+to pay the architect's fee and the wages of the stone-quarriers; and
+'the lime and sand wherewith to mortar the stone, and the cost of the
+clippings of a troop of the Scots King's horse, the better to bind
+the same.' So the mortgage of Kir Saba was drawn up, signed and
+sealed--you've got it there with the rest--and you ought to have a
+duplicate somewhere! And the bags of French gold were packed in
+boxes and sent down to Sir Hew's ship. He had three of 'em,
+high-sterned three-banked galleys with scarlet-lug-sails, to take him
+and his servants, and his Arab horses, and the rest of his baggage
+home to Britain--and the one he chose for his own use was called _The
+Scottish Crown_...."
+
+"Oh--do go on!" Katharine began to see Sir Hew, healed of his
+arrow-wound by the Jew's skill, with the brown of Syrian suns on his
+fair skin, and their bleach on his yellow hair--going home to rebuild
+his Tower and rear his long-legged, broad-shouldered race of Forbis.
+"This part of the story is wonderfully interesting. If only Father
+had been alive to hear it to-day!"
+
+"There's not so much to tell. Hew got ready to sail. Old Issachar
+Ben Hazaël loaded him with gifts; myrrh and spices, incense and dried
+raisins,--Egyptian hangings and silk embroideries, mother-of-pearl
+and turquoises; ivory and rare woods--fresh fruit for the voyage and
+so on.... And Hew took all that he could get--not that I'm inclined
+to blame him! But at the last minute he wanted a thing with which my
+ancestor wasn't inclined to part.... Issachar Hazaël had a
+daughter.... It seems--" The tone changed.... The sentences came
+dropping from the heavy mouth like strings of cold, weighty,
+slippery, polished beads of jade--or so it seemed to Katharine: "It
+seems that my ancestress and Sir Hew had met at our house--it is our
+house still!--if the Turks have left it standing amongst the orange
+and olive-groves to the nor'east of Jaffa. And--the girl was
+beautiful, and Hew--was a Crusader...."
+
+"He--wished to marry her?" The tone was enigmatical.
+
+"He broached the subject of marrying her--an hour before he sailed."
+
+"With what success?"
+
+"With the--result that might have been expected."
+
+Their looks crossed like swords. And resentment burned in Katharine.
+She stiffened and drew more upright in her chair.
+
+"The Jew--refused to entertain my ancestor's proposal?"
+
+"Just that. He said to him"--the voice of the speaker changed and
+deepened:
+
+"'_Thou hast the gold and the goods. Depart with that which is thine
+to the country of thine adoption. When the money is recovered in the
+fulness of time, the title-deeds concerning Kir Saba will be given
+back again.... For_'"--
+
+The big voice echoed among the rafters of the heavily-beamed room,
+making a brass Chinese gong hung upon a stand at the further end,
+vibrate with a faint tenor humming....
+
+"'_For by a great oath sworn by a forefather of our race in ancient
+times, we of the Hazaël are bound to succour the children of thy
+House unto the final generation. That oath we have kept, and will
+keep, Sir Knight. But we do not defile the pure stream of Jewish
+lineage with the blood of Gentile veins. I have spoken!_' ..."
+
+Fierce scarlet leaped to the roots of Katharine's hair. As though
+the speaker had struck or insulted her, she rose from her seat with
+one swift supple movement,--and so stood facing him, quivering with
+wrath. He too had risen--and thus the woman and the man opposed each
+other in a silence that both knew hostile; pregnant with hatred,
+racial, religious--sprung green and poisonous from the dust of nearly
+two thousand years....
+
+"He dared to speak so to a Scottish gentleman! A Jew!" ...
+
+The great black eyes beneath Hazel's heavy eyebrows burned like live
+coals. His deep voice echoed:
+
+"A Jew, Miss Forbis. A representative of the People who received the
+Law from Sinai. Who possessed, besides the Torah, Literature,
+Poetry, Arts and Sciences--even when a rabble of Aryan nations, swept
+North by the besom of some Assyrian conqueror--rolled into the
+Caucasus through the Pass of Dariel. Verily, verily!--and peopled
+Russia and Germany,--crossing lakes and seas and rivers on log-rafts
+and in boats of osiers and skins. And paddling across the North
+Sea--and building forts of tree-trunks at the mouth of an
+estuary--laid the foundations of the British Nation of which you
+boast to-day!"
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+So they stood face to face, the Occident and the Orient, until the
+tact of the woman, the subtlety of the man--suggested the compromise
+of an exchanged smile.
+
+"After all it is very Ancient History.... I think," said Katharine
+with a gleam of mirth in her eyes of gold and bramble-dew, "that your
+ancestor was discourteous, and mine--"
+
+"A little bit premature. Or tardy from another point of view,--in
+asking for what he'd got already. For Sir Hew and my ancestress had
+been married a week or so back--by a Catholic friar who had baptised
+Judith--after having received her abjuration of her Jewish faith.
+Between them they broke the news to Issachar Hazaël, 'who at first
+made naught of the Lady Judith's entreaties, but after many tears,
+embraces and cajoleries, suffered himself to be persuaded to sit with
+them at meat.'"
+
+"Did he? ... I should have suspected--"
+
+"Rats--if I'd been in the sandals of the Lady Judith--and I'd have
+made an inner bull if I had! '_He would taste of no
+dish_'--according to my Twelfth Century scribe--but he '_filled an
+ancient silver cup with the best wine of Kir Saba, and touched it
+with his lips once: seeming to drink while dropping into the goblet
+under cover of his beard, which was white as the snow of Herman, and
+fully an ell long--a ring of black onyx incarven very curiously,
+having a head of the Greek Hercules-with his club and lion-mask._'"
+
+"The ring you wear. The fellow to my ring! And it was poisoned?"
+
+"This ring I wear--the signet from his hand. There's a little
+compartment with a spring-lid, back of the setting, so I suppose it
+held poison--as you say, when he '_did hand the goblet to the Lady
+Judith, bidding her pledge him. But Sir Hew, stretching forth his
+hand in sport, laid hold of the goblet, whereupon said Hazaël: "Drink
+first, my Lady Forbis!" and she answered: "That will I right gladly,
+O my father! but thou and mine husband must kiss me first!" So she
+took the kisses and gave them back, and quaffed off the cup right
+merrily--and died as though she had been struck by lightning, not
+falling down, but sitting stiff and smiling in her chair...._'"
+
+There was a silence in the room. Then Katharine murmured, still
+vibrating:
+
+"Women knew how to love in those days!" ...
+
+"And men knew how to hate!" ...
+
+"And is that all?"
+
+"All, except that Sir Hew leaped up, and cried, when the corpse fell
+down out of the chair upon the daïs strewn with lion-skins: '_We were
+wed by a priest! I dealt honourably by her!_' And Issachar
+said,--and I think he comes out of it pretty well on the whole:
+'_What is honour in thine esteem is dishonour in mine! For the girl,
+she was begotten of these my loins.... Take what is thine, Sir
+Knight, and depart an' thou will to thine own adopted country. I
+deal as I choose with that which is mine own!_' Straight off the
+ice, I call that. Fine old fellow!"
+
+Katharine said, a little breathlessly, for the thrill of a great
+tragic happening seemed to be in the air:
+
+"Yes, it was great, and terrible and merciless...."
+
+"Hardly to Judith. When he'd once got her over in Britain, Hew would
+have gone back to the Beauty Chorus. For I'm not over struck on
+Hew," said John Hazel with a queer quirk of his fleshy underlip. "He
+appears to have anticipated the Profiteer's motto of the present
+date. Perhaps you've heard it? '_Self first, me next, and I'll take
+whatever's left over!_' Now I've gone and made you wild with me all
+over again!"
+
+His huge size, and his genuine ruefulness, contrasted so queerly that
+Katharine, still tingling to the finger-tips at the insult to Sir
+Hew, was forced to smile.
+
+"It is a mercy we are not likely to meet often, Mr. Hazel. We should
+quarrel inevitably. And yet--" There was sweetness in the smile of
+her eyes of cairngorm brown as she stretched out her long arm and
+offered her hand to him, saying: "And yet, in a tight place, I would
+trust you before most men!"
+
+"Give me the chance, Miss Forbis!" His black eyes flashed in their
+deep caves as her white hand was engulfed in his huge brown one.
+
+"If there is need," she said, "I will not fail to!"
+
+"It's a bargain then!" said John Hazel, and released the hand. "Now
+I must be going. I have trespassed on your time most frightfully."
+He turned and reached down to the floor and picked up the cowskin
+bag....
+
+"One moment, Mr. Hazel!" For he was striding towards the door, and
+urgently as she desired to be quit of her strange untimely visitor,
+the sacred bond of old fidelity, exerted its strong invisible
+influence between these two, so utterly dissimilar--making her add,
+even as she laid her hand on Whishaw's summoning bell: "You
+would--would you not wish to attend my father's funeral?"
+
+"I meant to, whether you were willing or not! ..."
+
+The tone robbed the assertive words of all offence. She answered:
+
+"Thank you. He will be laid to rest in the vault in our little
+private burying-ground the day after to-morrow. Monday morning,
+immediately after the Requiem Mass at ten. If it will be difficult
+or bad for you,"--her glance was kind for the hollow cheeks and the
+bagginess of the khaki on the great wasted body--"to drive over from
+Cauldstanes in this sharp weather at so early an hour--I know my
+father would have been glad to--to have you stay...." She added as
+Whishaw opened the door: "Perhaps you would dine with us to-morrow
+and sleep the night here?"
+
+"It would put you out." His vast shoulders filled the open doorway,
+the lintel of which just cleared his towering head. He added as
+Whishaw faintly clacked behind him: "It's awfully good of you to
+suggest finding me a bivvy, but the motor-bike that brought me over
+here to-day--it belongs to the son of the landlady at the _Cross
+Keys_--will hold together long enough--at least I hope so!--to carry
+me over the distance again. But there's one thing I'll ask you.
+Not, as a favour, mind you!--but as a right, to let me--_see him_!"
+
+Whishaw again forgot himself so far as to clack, this time
+distinctly. Miss Forbis' momentary hesitation was dissipated by the
+sound. She bent her head in grave assent, took her black lace veil
+and blue-check apron from the writing-table, saying to John Hazel:
+
+"Wait here one instant!" and quitted the room, closely followed by
+her ancient serving-man.
+
+As the door shut behind them John Hazel's expression altered. His
+beetling eyebrows drew into a savage line over his great hooked nose,
+and his swarthy colour faded to ashen brown. His coarse mouth
+hardened grimly as he crossed with long, noiseless strides to the
+open terrace-window, and stood there for a moment, quietly looking
+out. At the first glimpse the sunshiny terrace showed deserted of
+the pacing khaki figure.... Then the crack of a kindled match broke
+the silence. Yaill stepped from behind the buttress that had
+sheltered him as he had paused to light another pipe. The fragrance
+of the good weed came to Hazel's nostrils, as their eyes met for the
+second time that day....
+
+"Did you wish to speak to me, by any chance?"
+
+The great menacing figure blocking the window-frame slewed its head
+in the customary quarter-turn, and raised ar hand in the usual salute.
+
+"As man to man--not as private to field-officer--I have something
+urgent to say to you, Colonel Yaill."
+
+A pale light flickered in the sorrowful grey eyes he looked at. Was
+it irresolution, anger, apprehension? The actual truth he utterly
+failed to guess. Relief.... The die cast, the doubt resolved, the
+tangle straightened.... The path clear for the lonely feet till
+death....
+
+"Have you? Well, carry on! We have no hearers. Will you come
+outside, or shall I come in? ..."
+
+John stepped back. Yaill entered. The men confronted each other.
+There was one instant's pause before Hazel said:
+
+"This is Saturday forenoon--"
+
+"Twelve pip emma precisely." Yaill glanced at the cheap new watch
+upon his wrist. A flush burned his thin brown cheeks as he
+remembered that the bauble had been Lucy's wedding-gift.
+
+"Twelve Saturday.... The Funeral is to be on Monday at ten
+o'clock...."
+
+"You are incorrect. Monday at ten-thirty...."
+
+"I aim at being plain and short with you, sir. If by three o'clock
+on Monday afternoon you have not told Miss Forbis of your marriage, I
+am going to save you the trouble, Colonel Yaill."
+
+"Indeed?" ... Yaill's face was deathly under its sun-tan. "Perhaps
+you'll tell me who the Hell you are?" ...
+
+John answered with a grim inexpressive visage:
+
+"You can see for yourself. A London Territorial.... Ranker as long
+as this blasted old War goes on.... And a kind of--family friend of
+this house of Forbis.... If you're taking any further
+explanation--I'm bound to tell you you won't get it here...."
+
+"Very well. Your name? ..." It was the crisp, curt tone that marks
+the caste of the officer, making the other stiffen against his will:
+
+"Private John Benn Hazel, No. 000. X Platoon--Company F. 4th
+Battalion, 448th City of London Fusiliers, sir."
+
+"I shall remember. Good-day to you, Private Hazel. And carry on!"
+
+"You may be sure I will!"
+
+The door-handle turned as the short, stern colloquy ended. Both men
+looked round and saw Katharine standing near the door. Her black
+lace veil draped her head with mystery. In her hand was a little
+bunch of purple violets, whose perfume made rich sweetness in the
+air.... She made a sign to Hazel that he should follow her, gave one
+swift glance of tenderness to Edward, and left the room, followed by
+his enemy....
+
+"I was going to give him these. Perhaps you would like to?" she
+said, putting the flowers in John's great hand. He mumbled something
+she did not catch, but she understood that he would like to, as she
+led the way down the vaulted corridor--pausing before opening the
+chapel door to stroke the decrepit pointer-bitch Dawtie, who lay with
+her muzzle between her forepaws, keeping guard over the sleeper who
+would wake in Time no more....
+
+Then she passed into the sacred place; bent in reverence before the
+Presence in the Tabernacle, and led the way up the little aisle
+closely followed by John. He heard her say in a low, clear voice, as
+he stood near the feet of the old man who lay in the long oak coffin:
+
+"Father dear, here is a friend of ours whom you have wished to see!
+..."
+
+Just as though the old man lying there had not been dead at all....
+He--Sir Philip--must have been a tall man, rather narrow than
+broad-chested; and in youth his fine aquiline-featured face, now set
+in the sternness of death, might have belonged to his ancestor Marcus
+Fabius--that Tribune of Constantine,--who superintended the building
+of fortified camps on the Scottish Border--and planted millions of
+barbed iron prongs on the brae-sides and in the moss-hags for the
+bedevilment of naked Celtic feet.
+
+So John laid the bunch of violets below the stiff grey hands that
+were clasped over a Crucifix and had a Rosary threaded between their
+rigid fingers,--and rode back on his borrowed motor-bike to the
+_Cross Keys_ at Cauldstanes--an ancient stone box full of prehistoric
+smells (stale beer and boiled cabbage predominating)--and slept in a
+bedroom with an uphill floor, crowded with glass-fronted cases of
+stuffed salmon and trout, owls, heron, and moth-eaten brocks and
+foxes.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+On Monday John attended the Funeral, driving out to Kerr's Arbour in
+the dog-cart, in company of Mr. Kellar, the Cauldstanes solicitor and
+notary, who had heard, possibly through Mrs. Govan, that the big
+black sojer-man from London was "somehow conneckit wi' the family at
+Kerr's."
+
+Khaki predominated, for the General commanding at the P---- Depot
+attended with his _aide-de-camp_, and the officers of the Fourth and
+Fifth Squadrons of the Tweedburgh Light Horse officiated as
+pall-bearers at the burial of their Chief.... In the company of the
+handful of troopers detailed to act as escort, John Hazel remained
+near the door of the chapel throughout the Requiem Mass. Declining
+with obstinate shakes of the head Whishaw's hoarse-whispered
+invitations that he should "tak' a move up and sit wi' the family" in
+the parallel rows of benches close-packed by County friends and
+tenants, and a relative here and there.... Red Cross uniforms were
+worn by many among the women,--nor was wanting the khaki of the
+L.L.W.S.L. If the green eyes of Trixie Lady Wastwood picked out
+among the troopers on the benches near the west door, her
+fellow-traveller of two days previously--John remained ignorant of
+the fact.
+
+Bolt upright against the plastered wall left of the chapel door, his
+great height lifting him above the heads of the congregation, his
+hawk-vision showed him through an unfamiliar, glittering
+haziness--the long coffin covered with the Union Jack, on its
+black-draped trestles, with its single wreath of violets, gathered
+and placed there that morning by the daughter's loving hand....
+
+An old-type long brass-scabbarded R.H.A. sword with the heavy-fringed
+sash of faded crimson, rested on the Red, White and Blue, with the
+soldier's medals and decorations.... The Burmese War Medal of 1826,
+the four-barred Crimean medal with its faded blue yellow-edged
+ribbon, the medal of the Indian Mutiny, ribbon white and scarlet; the
+Turkish Order of the Medjidie with its star and crimson circle, the
+Maltese Cross of the C.B., the K.C.V.O., the Belgian Order of
+Leopold; and the eight-pointed, red-enamelled gold Cross of the
+Pontifical Order of St. Gregory....
+
+Two figures kneeling on _prie-dieux_ on the right of the coffin
+nearest the gate in the Communion-rail, drew and held the black
+hawk-eyes from the beginning of the Rite to its close. A tall
+brown-haired man in khaki, and a woman in deepest mourning, tall
+also, and bending like a palm in tempest under her shrouding black
+crape veil. When the fragrant incense rose at the chant of the
+Responsory:
+
+ "_Libera me Domine, de morte æterna._"
+
+When the Kyrie Eleison wailed out, and the Paternoster filled the
+silence; when the priest circled the bier, asperging the feet, the
+middle and the head of the corpse with the consecrated Water; when
+the prayer of Hope and Faith ended with the intoned "Amen" and Yaill
+rose to his feet and stepped to the head of the coffin--John Hazel
+got up too from the back-bench, where he was sitting: glowering,
+reluctant but driven on by a Force he could not but obey....
+
+That unseen hand that had thrust down his head when he entered the
+presence of Katharine had him again in its resistless grip.... He
+went up the little aisle between the packed benches, moving with
+long, noiseless strides, and took his place opposite Yaill. Had he
+been asked why he did this, he would have mumbled that it had seemed
+only the decent thing to lend a hand, and yet the impulse, rendered
+into words, would have been capable of a nobler interpretation:
+
+"_Thou hast here no son to bear thee to thy tomb. Therefore, let me
+render thee this service, whom, never having heard thy voice or
+touched thy living hand,--I, by the oath of my forefather,
+nevertheless am bound to serve. And after thee those that are thine,
+as long as life remains to me!_"
+
+The muttered word of command was drowned by the harmonium. The
+troopers detailed as bearers clanked up the aisle, Yaill's hand
+steadying the coffin as they lifted it--John Hazel taking upon his
+shoulders his full share of its weight. Seeing the words, "Because
+thou hast no son," written in letters of golden fire upon the
+frescoed stone walls, in violet and orange and fiery crimson across
+the face of the rose-window in the ogive over the West door, as the
+escort formed in file at the head of the procession and passed out by
+a side-exit, heralding the bearer of the Crucifix with its
+child-borne lights, the chanting choir, the tall young officer with
+the black-craped regimental Standard, and--carried by five tall Light
+Horsemen and one taller infantryman--its pall borne by officers of
+the Fourth and Fifth Squadrons--the coffin of their dead Chief....
+
+So they bore him to the little private burial-place at the foot of
+the wood-shagged hill that rose behind Kerr's Arbour, touched by the
+long shadow of its Tower when the sun moved towards the south....
+
+Before the steps leading to the gate of the open vault, the escort of
+troopers halted and turned inwards, making a lane for the dead man to
+pass through, as they rested on arms reversed. The coffin was
+lowered, again asperged by the celebrating priest and incensed with
+the words:
+
+"_Eco sum resurréctio et vita, qui credit in Me etiam--si mórtuus
+fuerit vivet...._"
+
+During the singing of the Canticle Edward Yaill led forward Katharine
+Forbis. John Hazel, standing in rank with the bearers, caught full
+view of her death-white, tear-drenched face. Something wrenched at
+his heart as the priest assisting offered her a silver shell of
+sacred earth, and she scattered some upon the lid of the coffin--from
+which the Union Jack with the sword and decorations were now removed.
+Yaill followed suit: some old friends and Mrs. Bell and the lawyer,
+Mr. Kellar, pressed forward to take part in this significant act.
+But Katharine's eyes beckoned and Hazel's answered. He held his
+palm; she poured from the silver shell--and the soil from the Mount
+of Olives streamed between his fingers in a thin brown stream,
+dulling the purple petals of the violets....
+
+And then, moving slowly under the weight of the burden, came the slow
+descent of the steps leading into the vault, where--to the solemn
+company of the departed--ranged upon rock-hewn shelves in their
+modern oak or old-world lead, or antique granite coffins,--Philip,
+last Forbis of the male line save Julian,--supposing Julian yet to be
+numbered amongst the living,--was joined with the solemn blessing of
+his Church.
+
+John Hazel's stern black eyes met Yaill's grey ones, as in unison
+with others they lent their strength to place the heavy coffin on the
+stone shelf appointed for its repose. When it slid to its place,
+their glances again encountered. Yaill was livid and spent and
+panting, for the effort had taxed him. But he gave back the other's
+look with cold composure, brushing a little dust from his ringed
+sleeve. Then, only delaying to replace upon the coffin its wreath of
+violets--he mounted the moss-grown steps--following the
+celebrant--and drew Katharine's cold hand once more within his arm.
+
+"Attention! Present! ... Slope arms!"
+
+As the ponderous door of the vault was shut and locked, the sharp
+voice of the commander of the escort broke the awed silence. The
+trumpeter sounded the Last Post--and three times the ringing crash of
+the volley startled to flight the rooks of the home-wood and the
+jackdaws of the Tower. As the small procession of friends, mourners
+and clergy returned from the burial-ground to the slow recital of the
+_De Profundis_, Yaill thought bitterly:
+
+"Out of the depths I have cried, and no One has heard me. Yet, what
+had I done amiss?"
+
+The County, with genuine regret tinging its discreetly-conventional
+condolences, rolled away in its landau-limousines or open cars. The
+officiating priests,--Father Haddon of the parish church at
+Birkleas,--the Father Superior of the Benedictine Monastery,--his
+guest the Jesuit from Farm Place, and Father Inghame,--pleaded an
+engagement to early dinner at Scraeside. The cars that had brought
+the General and his aide, and one or two elderly County magnates,
+remained outside the courtyard railings; their owners having stayed
+to lunch, as did the officers of the Tweedburgh Light Horse. At the
+board, Yaill did the honours, aided by Mr. Kellar, the Mistress of
+Kerr's not being present. A strange, ungenial banquet, crowning a
+strange, sorrowful day, that,--like how many others that had preceded
+it,--seemed to the host to be woven of the stuff of dreams. Only the
+rosy Kellar and one or two of the juniors grew merry over the Forbis
+port, while John Hazel,--who had shortly declined all hospitable
+offers of refreshment, rode back to Cauldstanes on Alec Govan's
+rickety "Sunray,"--thinking of the eyes that had silently bidden him
+participate in the final rite that only the nearest share.
+
+The reading of the Will in the dead man's library followed the
+departure of the guests. There were a few personal legacies to
+friends and pensioners. Kerr's Arbour, with its eleven-hundred acres
+of moss-hag and moorland, its few productive farms and its neglected
+coverts, would, did Julian live, be Julian's, with reversion to
+Katharine and her heirs.
+
+Over that windfall of £8000, rosy Mr. Kellar chuckled, or would have,
+had the solemnity of the occasion allowed. It would apply at this
+juncture to pay outstanding debts of Captain Mark's,--who had been
+something of a spendthrift--patch up yawning holes in the rent-roll,
+where the master of Kerr's Arbour had foregone the rents of such
+tenants as had volunteered for military service--pay the expenses of
+the funeral,--and swell with the balance remaining the tale of odd
+thousands, that, with her mother's little fortune,--would, if
+invested in four per cent War Bonds--provide Miss Forbis with an
+income approximating to £700 a year.
+
+"This is a sad day, Colonel Yaill--a sad black day for a' of us!"
+said the lawyer, as Whishaw helped him into his shaggy overcoat.
+"But Gude be thanked! the warst o't is ower. We're looking to
+yoursel' now, an' to Miss Forbis, to bring back life and happiness to
+Kerr's. Ye'll be blessed in your pairtner--" the good man was sorely
+henpecked--"a sonsy, sweet body that can be relied on neither to
+stick nor fling! Not but housekeeping in these times is a trial an'
+a hertbreik. Mrs. Kellar is sore put to it by the scarceness o'
+sugar an' fat. She made ninety-eight punds of blackberry-an'-apple
+jam for the Expeditionary Arrmy last September--an' some clever
+billie put her up to the eking out the sugar wi' saut. I fand mysel'
+sadly the warse for having tasted it by accident, an' Toch!--if the
+lads at the Front get muckle o' that stuff intil them, I tell her
+she'll be fechtin' on the side o' the Huns. Here comes the meir an'
+cairt. Is there no one wanting a cast to Cauldstanes? ... Put in the
+black bag, Erchie Whishaw, no' in the well to be overlooked, but
+juist between my feet. And Gude-bye again to ye, Colonel Yaill, and
+an auld freend's love to Miss Forbis! This has been a black sair day
+for a' of us ... but thanks be to Providence! we're at the end o't!"
+...
+
+Yaill thought as the gravel of the courtyard shirred under the wheels
+of the retreating dog-cart, "More black, more sore than the good man
+dreams! And my part in it is not yet finished. Old Webster never
+conjured up a grimmer tragedy. For at ten o'clock I lend a hand to
+bury Katharine's father. Upon the stroke of three I stab the
+daughter to the heart. And having killed her love for me--at
+four--possibly earlier--I say Farewell to God's Forget--unlucky
+Edward Yaill!"
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+He went to Katharine, before three o'clock, in the little oak
+parlour, a panelled, chintz-hung, feminine nest that her dead mother
+had loved--looking over the South garden, across the now frozen
+expanse of a curlew-haunted lake.
+
+She rose up out of her low chair by the hearthside at the welcome
+sight of Edward, and at her dear look his fetters seemed to fall from
+him and for one blessed minute he forgot--in the bliss of their
+embrace....
+
+Attar of roses is composed of two essential oils, both scentless.
+When these meet and mingle, a divine perfume is born. So from the
+meeting of two pure and noble souls an ideal passion is engendered.
+Love that is founded on the rock of Reality,--yet capped with the
+cloud-domes of Imagination, cloaked with the glamour--exhaling the
+sweetness of Poetry and Romance.
+
+It may be that these two had loved each other too purely for their
+earthly welfare. But as they settled into talk, fond, intimate,
+personal--tinged with Katharine's sacred sorrow, and yet illuminated
+with their joy--it seemed to Yaill that he had never yet tasted such
+happiness, as in this long-delayed, long-desired exchange of touch
+and thought and feeling--this perfect comradeship between woman and
+man.
+
+Three o'clock sounded from the clock upon the mantelshelf, a Tudor
+toy in enamel openwork, whose tiny chime had rung for many a lover's
+meeting--and hastened many a lover's parting--but never heralded one
+more tragic than was coming now. He raised his head from its sweet
+rest on her beloved shoulder, and slowly loosed the yearning arms
+that had girdled her supple waist. Now,--now let the revelation
+come--the sooner the better. But how to bring it about? ...
+
+Unwitting Katharine assisted here, by telling him how that morning
+Dawtie, the General's old pointer-bitch, had been found dead and
+already stiffened at her post outside the chapel door. Yaill said,
+scarce knowing what he uttered:
+
+"You will be even--lonelier--without her. You must let me find you
+another dog to fill her empty place."
+
+"Edward?"
+
+Her sweet eyes lifted to his face. She saw him changed--changing.
+Deep lines graven on the broad brow that had smoothed under her
+kisses. Folds of bitterness from either wing of the large sensitive
+nostrils to the corners of the lips.
+
+"Dear Edward, Dawtie was very old, and very seldom with me. And
+there are Bran and Laddie--if I should need the companionship of
+dogs. But soon now, very soon--there is nothing to prevent it"--She
+looked calmly in his face as he knelt on the rug beside her, stiffly
+upright, not touching her, both hands gripping the arm of her
+chair--"in a very few weeks--we shall be married, shall we not?"
+
+He did not speak, and her eyes wavered from his, and a blush burned
+over her whole fair body: for was it not the man's part to speak such
+words as these? She said again: "Shall we not?" ... There was a
+terrible pause.... The clock chimed the quarter-hour....
+
+"Shall we not, Edward, loving as we do--after these cruel years of
+delay?" ...
+
+Unable to credit her own vision, she saw creeping into his grey
+eyes--was it reluctance, distaste or dismay? ... A shock went through
+her.... Rushing sounds filled her ears and through them she heard
+her own voice crying to him:
+
+"Edward! ... For God's sake, don't look at me so! Something is
+wrong.... My dearest, tell me!" ...
+
+Her arms went out to draw him close, and came back empty. He had
+drawn back, avoiding them, and risen to his feet. A quiver passed
+over his thin brown face, such as in windless weather will ripple the
+sleeping surface of some quiet forest pool. And the question came
+from her that she had never dreamed of asking:
+
+"Is it that you do not love me--in the marriage sense--any more? Am
+I nothing but a friend? ... Answer.... I command you--answer!"
+
+Yaill's face was drawn and grey. He said,--keeping stiff control
+upon the muscles of his lips:
+
+"You are the one woman I worship.... I have never known another
+whose person so charms me, whose nature so appeals to me,--whose mind
+is so clear and full,--whose sympathy is so warm, so sweet, whose
+soul so answers to mine--"
+
+"Edward!" ...
+
+All reassured, she breathed the name in a tone of exquisite
+tenderness. He made her a sign that he had not done, and went slowly
+on:
+
+"I have desired--desire you now as man desires the woman he worships.
+When our marriage was postponed by the death of your mother--when the
+Regiment was ordered to India and you could not leave your
+father--when this thrice-accursed War burst on the world in a
+blizzard of fire and steel, and I had to leave you almost at the
+church-door--God is my witness that I suffered! Far more than I
+could tell you, Katharine!"
+
+"Love of my heart, I know it! ..."
+
+He signed to her again for silence:
+
+"Do not interrupt me! All this is hard to say.... But though my
+heart often cried out to you in those mad years of filthy
+fighting--living, eating and sleeping--did we ever sleep?--in the
+company of the Dead--while the world one had known and lived in--the
+world of pretty women--decent clothes, pleasant week-ends, jolly
+shooting-parties, sport, play, good hunters and easily-running
+cars--seemed--except in short flashes of intervals--to have been dead
+for cycles of ages--I was buoyed up by my hopes of you, my thoughts
+of you--your letters and our short rare blessed meetings. Glimpses
+of Paradise to a soul in Purgatory! You will believe that, will you
+not, Katharine?" ...
+
+One tear glittered on his hard cheek. Oh! to have dried it with her
+kisses, and whispered comfort to her dearest, wrought to this
+desperate mood by some unknown cause.... But she sat still as he had
+bidden, soothed by his words of tenderness, yet with a little
+shivering premonition beginning to quicken at the roots of her heart:
+
+"Then came the Great Disaster.... Oh! why didn't I marry you, when I
+got back to England--"
+
+"My love," she said, "my precious dear!--I asked you to, you know!"
+
+He made a despairing gesture of assenting:
+
+"And I would not accept the gift you offered in your generosity--dear
+love, sweet woman!--best friend an unlucky devil ever had or could
+have! ..."
+
+"Why?"
+
+That "Why?" came like a moan from her. He answered sadly:
+
+"Because I wanted to go away alone somewhere. To look my new self in
+the face, or to recapture the lost me. Thousands of men have felt
+the same--feel like that even at this moment--coming back with raw
+nerves and jumbled brains out of the hell of War."
+
+"Then God help the women who love them!" said Katharine Forbis.
+
+"They will suffer," said Edward Yaill, "until they have learned to
+understand the men. As you, pearl of women!--understood me, and
+pitied me. Can I ever forget that!"
+
+"Stop!" She held up her hand in warning. "Do not praise me. For I
+believed your heart had changed to me. For a long time I believed
+it, and suffered horribly.... And then thank God, I found out one
+day that it was not so." ...
+
+"When I came Home to tell you I had got back the Regiment.... There
+was just time--we could have made the time--to have got married
+then.... What stepped in? ... Fate! Was it Fate, Katharine? ..."
+
+She knew their chance of happiness had been baulked again as ever by
+the inconquerable vacillation of this brave man she loved. But
+unshaken in her loyalty, she looked back at Edward, repeating with
+unfaltering lips:
+
+"Just Fate--I suppose. Let us leave it at that and look forward to
+the Future. And the years we may have to spend together if it be
+God's Will."
+
+Her voice blurred with held-back tears;
+
+"But--don't keep me waiting any longer, dear Edward! I never
+have--never could have dreamed the possibility of changing towards
+you.... But if I get more lonely--if I get much more lonely than I
+am now--"
+
+Was it possible that cry of tortured womanhood could have come from
+Katharine? Must she, his proud one, stoop, and stoop to plead? With
+clasped hands and yearning eyes of pain entreating--
+
+"O Edward! don't keep me waiting long! Think of the years--"
+
+He said with forced deliberation:
+
+"We may even yet have years to spend together--if you have courage to
+forgive a grievous wrong!"
+
+"What do you mean? ... How have you wronged? ... Have you not told
+me--"
+
+Her voice had the sharpness of the stab he had dealt her, as she rose
+up out of her fireside chair.
+
+"I will tell you what I mean--what I meant to have spared you, had
+not the man who came here yesterday with the documents from
+Palestine--had not that man threatened to tell you if I did not."
+
+"To tell me what? Let me hear it now! You look ill, Edward!"
+
+"To tell you that I am married!" said Edward Yaill....
+
+
+As she stood before him, straight and tall, he saw the life go out of
+her. For an instant he looked on a dead, bloodless thing. Then the
+banished blood rushed back from about her heart. Her lips and eyes
+retained the look of life, but the face was a stranger's, and not
+Katharine's. Nor was it Katharine's voice that said:
+
+"To tell me that you are married? ... Who is she?"
+
+He hardly recognised his own voice saying:
+
+"She is a nurse.... She was attached to the Convalescent Camp at
+B---- Base."
+
+"Ah! ... And her name?" ...
+
+"Lucy Burtonshaw."
+
+"Ah! ..."
+
+The interjection dropped from her pale lips like an icicle. But her
+breeding wrapped her in an impregnable mantle of dignity. His sense
+of her new remoteness was desolating as she asked him:
+
+"And why are you here with me and not with Lucy Burtonshaw? I beg
+her pardon!--I should have said, Mrs. Edward Yaill. Can you explain?"
+
+"I can explain absolutely. Whether you would believe me--that is
+another thing!"
+
+"Let--let me think! ..." She put her hand to her forehead, pushing
+back her hair with a gesture of bewilderment. All her world lay in
+ruins round her, since those few sentences had fallen from his
+lips....
+
+Rejected.... Betrayed.... Cast off.... She, Katharine Forbis, so
+great, so beloved, so beautiful,--the desired of many honourable,
+brave, high-born, handsome and wealthy men. Edward Yaill had never
+been told how many aspirants had sought her,--how many brilliant
+offers she had steadfastly set aside. Choosing for years to walk in
+maiden loneliness--keeping her priceless treasure of splendid
+womanhood stored up,--hoarded away to this unutterable end....
+
+She moaned, and put her hand to her heart an instant when he said she
+would not believe if he explained himself. Nothing cut deeper or
+more cruelly than that. She said with the calmness of a
+mortally-wounded gentlewoman:
+
+"I have not deserved that you should so judge me.... Say what you
+think is to be said for you.... This person--this lady who is now
+your wife--is the nurse--unless I am mistaken?--to whom I entrusted
+my letters to keep in charge for you?"
+
+"The same. And she betrayed the trust.... She kept your letters.
+It was only on Thursday morning they first reached my hands." Always
+chary of gesture, he stretched them out to her, and drew them back
+and clenched--and let them fall again. "But for the accident of my
+getting the last letter you wrote me, upon the morning I was
+discharged from the Convalescent Camp--I might never have
+known--never remembered--" His voice broke. He turned away and
+leaned upon the mantelshelf, and bowed his shamed head over his
+folded arms.
+
+"Edward! ..."
+
+Her hand went out and lightly touched his shoulder. He thrilled at
+the tone in which she spoke his name:
+
+"Edward, tell everything, and I will listen! ..."
+
+He said in a choked voice, averting his face from her that she might
+not see the tears that brimmed and fell:
+
+"God bless you for your mercy to me, Katharine! ... But the story is
+so wild and so incredible--I dare not hope for your entire belief....
+You have believed in my devoted love for you.... I have lived, all
+these years, for you alone.... Yet last Thursday, when I awakened
+from that strange illusion--in the room at that Coombe Bay
+hotel"--Katharine shuddered--"I was married," he made a despairing
+gesture,--"married to a poor, weak, commonplace girl."
+
+"She is your wife.... You are bound to remember it...."
+
+He said:
+
+"I have done so far more than she deserves.... I have written to my
+solicitors--have provided for her generously.... Do not think me
+capable of leaving her to poverty.... But I cannot--will not share
+my life with her! ..."
+
+"Loneliness can be worse to bear than poverty. And--once
+again--remember--she is your wife!"
+
+"She is welcome to what good may be got from that position! She has
+schemed for it--"
+
+"Be just to her.... You have owned to me that you told her you were
+poor. Why? ..."
+
+"Heaven knows why--or Hell! I have no answer.... But she had only
+to ask--to make inquiries--to be enlightened on the subject of my
+money!"
+
+Chivalrous Katharine flashed out in defence of her enemy.
+
+"Do you suppose the surgeons at the Camp would have told her? Or
+that your medical report would have supplied such details? Or do you
+think Burke's '_Landed Gentry_' is a work of reference accessible to
+nurses? ..."
+
+He broke out with whirling words--frantic asseverations. He would
+get a divorce.... A suit for Nullity could be obtained under the
+circumstances--once the circumstances should be made clear. Another
+touch of contempt frosted her tone as she said to him:
+
+"The marriage is legal. And though you seem to have forgotten your
+religion--when you speak of divorce to me, I must ask you to remember
+that I am a Catholic woman, Colonel Yaill!"
+
+"Forgive me! ..."
+
+He sat down haggard and exhausted.... She, too, resumed her seat,
+for her strength was failing fast.... And so they sat in a
+sorrowful-grim travesty of the old happy comradeship. She looked so
+sorrow-stricken and yet so sweet as she sat there in her mourning for
+her lost one,--that the heart of Yaill was more than ever tortured by
+the fierce agony of hopeless love.
+
+"Think!--" he said to her desperately, "for I cannot.... Is there no
+way of escape from this horrible pitfall into which I have tumbled
+with open eyes? Think! ... Or cannot you think of anything,
+Katharine? ..."
+
+She said to him gently:
+
+"Wait.... I will think, and tell you presently.... Only wait and be
+patient a little, my poor dear!"
+
+For she could not withhold her compassion and forgiveness from this
+man with the furrowed face of anguish, and the haunted, desperate
+eyes. No longer her hero, her ideal of perfect manliness and
+honour,--but a mere man, to be loved and pitied, and made excuses
+for. Or--her sick heart knew a ray of Hope.... In her white cheeks
+dawned a tinge of colour.... Was he one of the innumerable,
+blameless martyrs made by the accursed War?
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+She could bear to live if Edward proved a martyr and not a traitor.
+Oh! let him be the other woman's husband if it must be--as long as
+Katharine knew him guiltless. She bent her brow and set her rare
+mental powers of clear thought, reasonable argument and logical
+deduction, to trace a mean between a biassed partisanship and common
+justice.... One had known such strange, abnormal things result from
+shellshock.... And Edward loved her.... Oh! most entirely loved
+her.... It would be possible to live on, empty of joy, bare of all
+happiness--if Edward were a martyr.... God send it might prove so....
+
+She gripped the arms of her chair and shut her eyes, striving to
+reconstruct the situation, assembling all the evidence upon his side;
+trying to live through all those twilit months the life of the man
+with the jangled nerves, and the numbed and blunted brain.... Just,
+generous, noble-minded Katharine, incapable of pettiness, great in
+her desolation.... She opened her eyes, to encounter the sorrowful
+stare of his--and began to speak, calmly, almost cheerfully--drawing
+him on insensibly to talk to her of _that day_....
+
+That day in September of the previous year, when in those trenches
+south of Loos the First Battalion of the "Tweedburghs" had been wiped
+out, almost to a man, for the second time in the War.
+
+"Why should you want to hear that story again--and now?" he pleaded:
+"My God, don't ask me to tell it now! ..."
+
+But she asked it with her steady eyes upon him; and he obeyed her
+with knitted brows and twitching lips and cold sweat upon his face:
+
+"The Germans had started shelling our front-line parapet at 5.30 that
+morning.... At a rough calculation they pounded us with eleven
+hundred guns.... Half the battalion were in the front line, and half
+in supports. And we had been given instructions to hold those
+trenches at any cost...."
+
+He licked his dry lips and threw her a dog-like glance of entreaty.
+But she waited inexorably and he went on:
+
+"We had taken them by assault and we weren't willing to lose them.
+Our guns gave back Hell for leather, but we kept getting Super-Hell.
+News kept coming through to us at Battalion Headquarters, of
+casualties, fresh casualties.... Always killed--hardly ever wounded!
+... My God--my God! ... And at last I and my
+Adjutant--Cameron-Bain--were left at Headquarters with a few
+orderlies, cooks and bottle-washers. We'd sent up practically every
+man through the barrage to help 'em carry on.... And all my officers
+were killed except two. Jameson and Kinray-Heptown, the officers in
+charge of the Advanced Line Wireless and Telephone Communications.
+Don't ask to hear the rest. What good can it do? ..."
+
+"It is my right," she answered him, "to hear this story from you....
+And I am waiting...."
+
+So he went on:
+
+"There came a minute when Cameron-Bain and I stared at each other
+blankly across a pit of horror. We found the Advanced Line
+Communications getting queer and dribbling into incoherency.... Then
+they stopped.... And we knew that the worst had happened--though we
+waited, hoping against hope that Kinray-Heptown would speak again.
+Then we tossed up a penny to decide which of us-- This hurts! ...
+Must I carry through with it to the end? ..."
+
+Her great maternal heart wept tears of blood for him. But yes....
+For his sake she compelled him to carry through....
+
+"I called 'Tails' and won, though Bain swore I hadn't.... Then we
+shook hands and I went up through the German barrage. Trains of
+stretcher-bearers and wounded--our stretcher-bearers and our
+wounded--lay dead upon that horrible road.... And I got to
+Supports--and found them evacuated, except for the Dead--there were
+plenty of dead men! Gas was being sent over from our Advanced trench
+by somebody--the wind being in our favour--if nothing else was! But
+the German guns kept on sending over High Explosive--5.9 shell--and
+shrapnel: and the fire of their machine-guns--they were enfilading us
+from two angles--came at us like a solid wall of lead! ..."
+
+He wetted his parched lips and rubbed his forehead. And still she
+waited for him to tell the rest.
+
+"I got to the Advanced trenches.... Hardly even challenged! The few
+men left alive there looked at me as if I'd been a ghost. But they
+carried on, and I pushed through to the T. & W. dug-out, to find it
+had been blown in by a High Velocity Shell. Kinray-Heptown, our
+T.C.O., lay dead--sprawling over the table, his blood and brains and
+so on--all mixed up horribly with the _débris_. And his
+assistant--Jameson--was in the same case. But the Wireless and
+telephone installations were in working-trim,--so I took them both
+over--receiving and transmitting messages in Morse Code from the
+connected Advanced Posts through Cameron-Bain to Brigade
+Headquarters, until one by one they left off talking, and I took off
+the head-band and put down the receiver--"
+
+He might have but now come in out of the rain, his haggard face so
+streamed with wet....
+
+"Because I knew they were all dead and that I was alone.... Then a
+blaze of hot yellow light filled the place--and the table reared on
+its hind-legs--and Kinray-Heptown--dead as stone and covered with
+blood, and with his skull--you know!--I've told you!--Heptown stood
+bolt upright a second--and then went for me!"
+
+He laughed, the loud, unnaturally harsh laugh that had startled
+Katharine on the night of his arrival....
+
+"High Explosive plays queer tricks. Another 5.9 shell had landed in
+the dug-out--and I was pinned down with Heptown on top of me--and the
+heavy case of the Wireless outfit on top of him--and the corrugated
+zinc, and sandbags, and earth of the roof on top of all! And I lay
+there with his awful face crushed down on mine, and remembered," he
+laughed again harshly, "what a silly kind of ass he used to be....
+Always running after new women and howling for sympathy--because he
+was such a poor devil, without a rap beyond his pay--and hadn't a
+living relative in the world...."
+
+"Edward! O Edward! my poor love! ..."
+
+He did not hear her voice of throbbing tenderness. He was passing
+through that unspeakable ordeal again:
+
+"A dismal man. They called him 'Gummidge' in the Regiment, and the
+nickname fitted the beggar to a 'T.' How I crawled out from under
+him ... can't imagine for the life of me! Probably my tin hat saved
+me from smothering.... They say I'd not a rag on when they found
+me--yellow as a guinea from melinite and smeared with blood--not
+mine, but Heptown's! Poor devil!--not a rap beyond his pay--not a
+living soul belonging to him in the world! ..."
+
+He shuddered, and knitted his hands together closely, and so sat
+rigid--battling with some invisible power that strove with him for
+mastery of will....
+
+"Edward! ..."
+
+She was kneeling by his chair,--her arms wrapped round about him, her
+cheek to his,--the swell and heave of her bosom close to his--her
+warmth and sweetness his--all his once more....
+
+"All is quite clear to me now. You have not wronged me! You are
+blameless--my man of men! Listen, dear Edward! In some way strange
+to us, clear to neurologists--when you lay buried alive, pinned down
+helpless by the body of that poor dead officer, the horror of those
+dreadful minutes--or hours--stamped his personality--branded it, I
+might better say--upon your memory so that you could not forget it if
+you would! The story you told to that poor girl afterwards--your
+conviction that you were poor, unloved and friendless--all came from
+that--were part of the strange obsession. Dear, in my eyes you are
+quite blameless. Forgive me, Edward, if"--he felt the sob she
+bravely kept back--"in the first agony of hearing what you have told
+me--I let myself feel resentful towards you!"
+
+"Katharine!"
+
+He drew a great breath of relief, and his load was lightened. She
+believed.... Oh, wonder of wonders, she believed.... He faltered:
+
+"Then you do not hate and despise me? ..."
+
+Her swift kiss touched his hands. He heard her saying:
+
+"On the contrary, I admire, I love, I worship you!--my hero, my
+martyr--my King--my man of men! ..."
+
+"KATHARINE!"
+
+In the rapture of that declaration Yaill would have embraced her;
+clasped her close to his starving heart and covered her with
+caresses. But she freed herself from him gently and with decision,
+though he pleaded humbly for a single kiss.
+
+"Dear, when we say Good-bye, then I will kiss you. It is my right, I
+shall not waive my claim. We were husband and wife in soul if not in
+actuality--we are parted--not through any mutual change of feeling,
+but by an act of the inscrutable Will of God. You have a wife--it is
+for us to remember it!--and so I ask you to go away from here--"
+
+"'Go!' ... Leave you now? ..."
+
+His face grew hard and obstinate.
+
+"Why should I leave you? Do we not love each other? Have we not, as
+you say yourself, been one in heart for all these years! ... We have
+done no wrong, so why should we suffer? And, if I leave you, where
+am I to go? Not back to that woman? ..."
+
+A spasm contracted her white face to a pinched mask of jealousy. He
+hardly knew the voice that came through the clenched teeth and
+stiffened lips:
+
+"Why not? She _is_ your wife!"
+
+"My wife through a vulgar deceit. Don't say you hold her guiltless?"
+
+"Almost, if she believed you!" she forced herself to say.
+
+"And this is your love!" he snarled at her, stung to injustice.
+
+She answered--and the voice was once more Katharine's:
+
+"This is my love! ..."
+
+He wheeled to the fireplace and stood in thought, resting his elbow
+on the mantelshelf. When he looked back at her it was to say:
+
+"And if I obey you now and leave you, what are your plans? What do
+you intend to do?"
+
+She told him:
+
+"I had made up my mind--supposing you had left me this time without
+settling a definite date for our marriage--that I would get drafted
+out to the East to help Hilda. You remember Lady Donnithorpe? She
+was a great friend of mine, I have often told you, when we were girls
+together at Chalkcliff--fellow-pupils at the Convent of the Sisters
+of the Sacred Heart.... Sir Hugo is on the Staff of the
+Commander-in-Chief at Cairo. Hilda is Commandant of the Red Cross
+Hospital at Montana--seventeen miles from Alexandria--standing in
+wonderful grounds. It was formerly, or so I understand--a palace of
+the ex-Khedive. I could drive a car for them, or nurse--I have my
+certificate--"
+
+"You seem to have got your plans all ready cut and dried--without
+much reference to me! ..."
+
+His face was wrung as he looked round at her.
+
+"Don't be cruel, Edward! Do not let me remember by-and-by--that on
+this day that sees me shorn of everything, you were unkind--for the
+first time...."
+
+He gave a short, impatient groan.
+
+"Who is unkind to both of us but yourself? But you shall be
+obeyed--I will leave Kerr's Arbour."
+
+Each of the five words gave her its separate stab. She never winced,
+but said to him unfalteringly:
+
+"There is a train from Cauldstanes at six o'clock. You could catch
+the King's Cross Express by changing at Carlisle...."
+
+"And it is now four-thirty."
+
+From habit he had glanced at the cheap watch strapped upon his
+wrist.... The heavy lines between his knitted brows deepened and a
+vein throbbed in his temple, as he stripped the poor trinket from his
+wrist and dropped it into the glowing heart of the fire. The glass
+burst with a sharp little crack--and the leather strap writhed among
+the hot, devouring flames so like some reptile dying in torment that
+Katharine turned her eyes away. As Yaill's hard, level voice went on
+saying:
+
+"From Cauldstanes, six o'clock! ... Thanks! that train would suit me
+very well. Please no--don't ring!" Her hand had gone out to touch
+the stud of the bell beside the fireplace. "Don't trouble to order
+any kind of trap.... I had much rather walk. Some hard tramping in
+the frosty air will do me good.... Really.... I should prefer it!
+..."
+
+"But--your luggage!" She looked at him anxiously.
+
+"My kit! ..." He could have laughed outright, but he controlled
+himself by main force, and went on in the same stiff, formal tone:
+"Send it to-morrow morning by an early train to my Club in Pall Mall.
+I shall take care to leave it properly addressed, so that you have no
+trouble of any kind--"
+
+"Edward.... Be just ... be fair! Don't--torture me like this!"
+
+The cry broke from Katharine barely of her volition. She caught him
+by the wrists.
+
+"How am I torturing you?" he asked her coldly.
+
+"What have you decided to do?" Her eyes were on a level with his,
+begging, commanding. "Tell me! ..." She caught him by the wrists.
+"Are you going back--to her? ..."
+
+"No!"
+
+Her hands had been like steel upon Yaill's wrists. Her eyes, tawny
+and fierce as those of an enraged lioness, were fixed upon his. The
+pang of pity she had felt for the poor giver of the destroyed watch
+was lost in her anguished sense of her own despoliation,--her own
+helpless impotence to hold her usurped rights.... But at that deep,
+stern No! from him her hands grew weak upon his wrists, and the
+lioness-fury in her eyes died out and left them tender....
+
+"I have said to you that I cannot share my life with her--the woman I
+have married. I swear to you she shall want for nothing--be treated
+honourably! As to my plans--the most definite is to go to the Near
+East and find your brother Julian. Not to fight with Turks for the
+Holy Sepulchre. My faith is dead in me. When God gives me back You,
+then I will be friends with Him! Until then--"
+
+"Oh, Edward, hush! ..."
+
+"I will not shock you more, dearest of living women. Give me that
+one last kiss, and say: 'Good luck to you on your road!' For at the
+end of the road I may find your brother Julian. In some Turkish
+prison--enclosure or labour-camp, working under the lash. Now will
+you kiss--"
+
+"Not here, dear Edward! ..."
+
+She draped her head with the black-lace veil that had been her dead
+mother's, and smiled--how could she bear to smile?--as she held out
+her hand....
+
+"We will say our Good-bye in the chapel.... Come, my dearest! ..."
+
+He could not resist her look, her touch.... Together, they went
+out....
+
+The fragrance of incense was sweet in the still place, the
+treasure-chamber of this Catholic dwelling; where you felt the
+Blessed Sacrament as a guarded Flame, a vital Essence, a Presence
+mysterious and impalpable, yet instinct with latent Power and
+conserved Force. When Katharine bowed in adoration of her Lord and
+Master, Yaill stood erect, silently defying Him,--with set jaws and
+scowling brows, and hard glittering eyes.
+
+But when Katharine rose, and again took his hand, his icy armour
+melted. His eyes softened and he yielded to her touch like a big,
+docile child. She drew him to the small Communion-rail--knelt on the
+worn red cushion, and was silent; gathering strength to speak,
+fighting with her anguish; while the haggard frowning man stood
+stiffly waiting at her side.
+
+A moment more and Katharine's low voice flowed out upon the silence.
+She said, to the Living Presence in the Veiled Tabernacle:
+
+"My Saviour and my God, Thou seest at Thy Footstool two of Thy
+servants, who after long years of love and fidelity, and patient
+waiting and hopes often frustrated, are parted--for life perhaps--as
+if Death had come between. We do not know--"
+
+The sweet voice wavered and then went on steadily:
+
+"We do not know why we must suffer--we only know it is Thy Will. And
+we offer Thee--O give us strength to offer Thee! this agony of
+parting--in submission to Thy Majesty and in expiation of our sins--
+
+"What sins?" Yaill asked her in a deep, stern voice.
+
+She seemed not to hear, and went on speaking:
+
+"The sins that we weak mortals have committed in our lives. And now
+to Thy care, Who didst offer Thyself a living Sacrifice for the
+redemption of the world upon the Altar of the Cross--I commend my
+beloved whom Thou hast taken from me! Preserve him in body and in
+soul from every sort of danger. Guide him, guard him--lead him upon
+his path in life.... And if--"
+
+She heard Yaill's boot-heel grind upon the stone, and knew that he
+was trembling....
+
+"Let this end! ..." he said below his breath. "Do you hear me! End
+now, Katharine! ..."
+
+But she went on, fighting,--had he known the truth,--for the soul of
+him, her dearest:
+
+"And if we may never be one on earth, O let us be one in Heaven! ..."
+
+Yaill gritted his teeth savagely, and a rending sob tore through his
+frame. The tears were streaming down his face as he stammered out to
+her, gulping and choking:
+
+"Lend me ... hanky ... Kathy! I can't find--"
+
+She gave him her handkerchief as a mother might a child, and went
+resolutely on to the end of her prayer.
+
+"And now before Thee, here present in the Blessed Sacrament as truly
+as when Thou didst walk with Thy Beloved upon this sorrowful
+earth,--I promise to be faithful to Edward Yaill my lover, in body
+and soul, through Life till Death, and in the Eternal Life! ..."
+
+He gave a hoarse inarticulate cry and sank to his knees beside her.
+She turned and folded him in her arms, and his face sank on her
+bosom, and the black-lace veil that draped her head fell over his
+too. It smelt of violets. His scalding tears wetted her neck....
+She lifted his face and kissed him,--with all her soul kissed him.
+But a fold of her mother's black-lace veil came between her mouth and
+his.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+Long after Edward Yaill had gone, and Night had settled down upon
+Kerr's Arbour, old James Whishaw hobbled noiselessly into the chapel
+to find Katharine kneeling there. He bent his own stiff rheumatic
+knees upon a chair behind her, and waited, and said a prayer for the
+daughter of his dead master, dear to him as a daughter of his own.
+Her face was hidden in her hands, her lace veil fell over them. No
+movement stirred its patterned folds, no sigh nor sob escaped her....
+She might have been the statue of a kneeling woman, wrought in black
+marble or ebony.
+
+"Miss Forbis, mem!" the ancient servitor whispered after an interval.
+There was no response. Grown desperate, he ventured a fresh appeal.
+
+"Miss Katharine! ... Miss Kathy, for your ain sake!--for a' our
+sakes--"
+
+The quavering terror in the cracked, familiar voice reached her. She
+stirred, and answered:
+
+"You, Whishaw? ... Am I wanted? ... Who--"
+
+She tried to rise to her feet, but could not. The old man hurried to
+her and lent his feeble strength to help her, and she rose up and
+they came out of the church together, slowly, arm in arm. As the
+door swung-to behind them, she put back her veil and whispered:
+
+"Has Colonel Yaill?--"
+
+The butler hardly recognised the drained white face she turned to
+him. Her voice was a mere thread of sound, the shadow of itself.
+
+"He has gone this hoor an' mair," he said, "an' a wire has juist come
+for him. My bairn--Miss Katharine, dearie!--there is anither for him
+that's gane! An' O I doot bad news in baith, by word the bringer
+dropped wi' them--"
+
+"Give me the wires.... I understand...." she said. "The messenger
+has gossiped?"
+
+"They're weel kent for loose-tongued, claverin' bodies at Cauldstanes
+Post Office," owned Whishaw, adding bitterly: "Nor ye'll no' bind
+Discretion on Meggy Proodfoot, wi' the King's Croon on her airm." He
+took the salver with the two orange envelopes from a console table in
+the hall, and brought it to his mistress, entreating: "Gin' ye could
+see yer ain face ye wad be frichtit, Miss Katharine. Let me get ye a
+glass o' wine before ye'se open them, my lamb!"
+
+But Katharine mingled no juice of the grape with this, her latest
+draught of the strong black wine of Sorrow. She opened the envelope
+that bore Yaill's name, and by the light of the great wood fire that
+blazed in the hall hearthplace, deciphered the message it contained.
+
+"This must be re-telegraphed to Edward's London Club," flashed
+through her mind before the vile sense of the words upon the sheet
+drove clearly home to her; and then she started as though their
+concentrated venom had seared to the very bone.
+
+
+"_Have discovered where you are. Return instantly or I shall follow.
+Your wife, Lucy Yaill. Tor View, Coombe Bay._"
+
+
+A moment Katharine staggered under the shock. Then with the fierce
+blood burning in her cheeks, she won her shaken composure back,
+saying as she encountered the Watery blue stare of her ancient
+servitor:
+
+"There is nothing to trouble us in this. I know it to be not
+important." And she crumpled up the flimsy sheet and dropped it into
+the midmost of the fire, adding: "We will not trouble Colonel Yaill
+by forwarding it at all."
+
+Then she opened the other orange envelope. It held a communication
+from the Casualty Department at the War Office, and told her with
+official brevity that her brother Julian was dead.
+
+
+"_Regret to inform news received from eye-witness confirms report
+that Father Julian Forbis, O.S.G., R.C. Chaplain --th Brigade, 29th
+Division, Mediterranean Forces, Gallipoli, was killed on August 21st
+by direct hit Turkish shrapnel shell during storming of Scimitar
+Hill. No remains recoverable._"
+
+
+She read out the withering message of disaster in a low clear voice
+devoid of a trace of expression. The butler and the servants who had
+gathered in the hall broke into sobs and lamentations. But what
+avail are tears and outcries? They are only of use to vent the
+sorrow that is neither poignant or profound. Miss Forbis went to the
+drawing-room and penned some telegrams; one to the Father Superior of
+Julian's Monastery at Clerport, one to Julian's dearest friend, in
+the trenches before Arras,--a brief note to the lawyer and notary,
+Mr. Kellar,--already (through that local Post Office leakage) in
+possession of the intelligence,--and a third telegram for Colonel
+Edward Yaill, addressed to his London Club.
+
+And then, moving mechanically as an automaton, she went from the
+room, encountered Whishaw and gave the messages to be taken into
+Cauldstanes that night by a mounted groom. The wires to be left at
+the private house of the postmaster for despatch in the early
+morning; the note to be handed to Mr. Kellar, sitting with his old
+cronies over his toddy and his well-loved rubber of whist.
+
+Mrs. Bell, Miss Forbis's elderly companion (worn out by the day's
+sorrowful ceremonial) had long retired to her room. Time enough to
+break the news to her upon the following morning. Katharine ordered
+the wearied servants to shut up the house and go to bed, and herself
+set the example. But when her tearful maid had quitted her for the
+night, reluctantly and wistfully,--she could not bear the notion of
+lying down in that now desolate house to rest. It stifled her. So
+she dressed again,--threw over all a hooded woollen mantle, took a
+small electric lantern and went out of the room....
+
+To ascend above the level of ordinary daily existence, to climb a
+height and draw into the lungs long breaths of purer air, seems to be
+a craving shared by not only those whose bodies are racked and worn
+by chronic suffering, but by those others who in heart and soul are
+wrung by mental pain. The Lawgiver of Israel ascended into the
+fastnesses of Sinai--not only to receive the commands of the Most
+High--but to hide his anguish at the backslidings of his rebellious
+people--turning to unholy commerce with Egyptian god-devils and
+Canaanitish idols,--from the pure worship of the One God. And His
+Son was wont to climb the solitary heights of mountains, when He was
+weary with the healing of multitudes--and oppressed with His burden
+of human woe! And since His day, how many others have known the
+need, and sought the same alleviation:
+
+ "When on the heights I drink the air
+ And watch the budding of each star
+ Out of the dusk, this grief I bear
+ Is somewhat soothed; my load of care
+ Lightens, and Thou art not so far--"
+
+
+Descending to the ground-floor, Katharine, barely of her own
+volition, passed through a small, heavy baize-covered door at the
+northern end of the hall. It led into the Tower, and she crossed a
+great stone-flagged, stone-vaulted room lighted by narrow
+window-slits high in the massive stone walls, unlocked another door
+with a key that was in the lock, huge and old-fashioned, but oiled
+and working smoothly, and came out at the foot of the narrow stone
+stairway that spiralled, storey by storey, to the top of the Tower.
+
+She was weary, but the turmoil and anguish of her spirit set the
+claims of the body out of court. She moved on, tall and stern and
+beautiful, flashing her guiding light on a jutting stone in the wall
+here, or a broken step there,--just as though she were conducting
+some visitor to admire the famous view from the battlements.
+
+The young moon of February rode high in the southern heavens. The
+Standard hung at half-mast from the flagstaff of the Tower. There
+was little wind to stir its heavy pendent folds, what there was came
+almost balmily in drifts from the west.
+
+Some belated workman or field-labourer was going home across the
+policy,--or possibly some gamekeeper or shepherd may have been
+setting out upon his nightly rounds. The night being dark and still,
+he sang; perhaps because he was sorrowful, possibly because he was
+happy; it may have been to cheer his loneliness. But whoever he was,
+he had a voice; a sweet, if untutored baritone,--and the matchless
+beauty and poignant pathos of "The Land o' the Leal" beat in wave
+upon wave of anguish, and sorrow, and yearning, upon Katharine's
+tortured soul....
+
+"O God!" she cried aloud in her anguish, "I cannot bear it.
+Desolate, desolate, stripped bare of everything! ... All of them
+taken!--Mark and my father, and to-day Edward! ... O Edward, my love!
+and Julian! ... Ah! ..."
+
+And her own cry was flung back from the battlements, so thin, so
+weirdly eldritch that she shuddered at the sound....
+
+
+Madness was near my Katharine in that hour of abandonment. But when
+the wild spirit of Marioun Forbis, whose tragic tale I have not time
+to tell here, cried to her: "Be bold! One leap will end it!" and the
+thin ghostly hands of proud, sinful Countess Edith plucked at her
+garments to drag her to the battlements; and Mistress Juliana, who
+starved herself to death for grief because her too-severely punished
+babe had died in a fit in the dark cupboard where it had been shut up
+after a whipping, lent her impalpable, invisible aid to urge her
+kinswoman to the desperate deed,--the saintly Mother St. Edward,
+Abbess of the Brigittine Convent of Syon (stripped of all and driven
+thence to exile with her Community by the edict of fierce Elizabeth),
+whispered of submission to the Divine Will. And heroic Madam
+Lucy--who nursed her smitten household back to life through the days
+when the Great Plague raged in England,--and only lay down to die at
+length when all she loved were safe,--leaned to her ear and whispered
+"Courage!" and countless other noble women of her ancient race
+gathered about her then....
+
+And at last the memory of her own lost, beloved mother rose up to aid
+her, and the Mother of All Mothers--pitying her faithful daughter's
+anguish--interceded with Her Divine Son that the gift of prayer might
+be restored to ease the breaking heart....
+
+It came like a spate among the hills after long drought, and
+Katharine fell upon her knees, and leaned her aching head against the
+rough-hewn stone, and told God all her trouble, and knew that He
+heard.... Then she rose up calmed and comforted, and so went down
+the Tower stair and back to her bedroom. And slept and dreamed of a
+gigantic man,--tawny-brown of skin, and with a vast black beard,
+fierce black eyes and a great hooked nose exactly like John
+Hazel's,--wrapped in a vast hooded mantle--carrying an iron-shod
+staff like St. Christopher's--and wearing immense boots such as are
+never seen now. He went before her over a desert which she needs
+must traverse, seeking for the lost Julian--a waved expanse of
+scorching yellow sand, peopled by ugly Things that lived in burrows,
+and kept popping up their diabolical horned heads to mock and gibe at
+Katharine.... Then the Bearded One stood in the midst of a raging
+torrent (which it seemed that Katharine must negotiate), and leaned
+on his immense staff to steady himself, stretching out the other hand
+to help her across.... There was a black onyx intaglio of Hercules
+in an antique setting of greenish gold on his huge forefinger....
+And his vast hand, as it enfolded hers, felt warm and friendly and
+kind. And she asked, for the black eyes under the dense black brows
+were more like than ever:
+
+"You're John Hazel, really, aren't you? ..."
+
+And the huge man answered, in a booming bass, showing great white
+teeth in the thicket of his hirsuteness:
+
+"Nay, daughter of the race of him I loved! But John Hazaël is of me!"
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+Wonderful times, these of which I write, fruitful in world-shaking
+happenings, hecatombs of slaughtered men; sledge-hammer strokes of
+Fate and Destiny. Sudden descents of long-suspended swords upon
+anointed heads. Tragedies, calamities, dazzling adventures, murders
+and massacres, high deeds of patriotism, stirring deeds of heroism,
+wakening admiration, pity or terror. Who shall marvel that into this
+whirlpool of great events the Mysterious Disappearance of A Well
+Known British Commanding Officer (as recorded by the Press under the
+above and similar headings) dropped with as little sensation as the
+fall of a pair of binoculars from an aviator's hand.
+
+
+"Staying at Kerr's Arbour, N.B."--I quote from one of the newspaper
+paragraphs, "the officer, a well-known personality in Society,
+possessing a great record of distinguished service with the famous
+Tweedburgh Regiment of Infantry, left the house at which he was an
+honoured guest, after the funeral of Sir Philip Forbis, which he had
+attended in the morning, and has not been since heard of. It
+transpires that Colonel Yaill had intended to walk to Cauldstanes
+Station, for the purpose of taking a late afternoon train to the
+junction of Carlisle. He had ordered his luggage to be forwarded to
+his London Club on the morning following, and carried with him
+nothing but a trench-coat and a walking-stick. The calamity which
+has again befallen the 'Tweedburghs' since the appointment of Colonel
+E. A. Yaill to command the regiment, will be fresh in the sympathetic
+memory of every reader. On September 1915, Colonel Yaill made his
+way to the front-line trenches through a blizzard of German H.E. and
+finding of the few living men left in them not one unwounded, took
+over and carried on the Telephone and Wireless Communications with
+Brigade and Divisional H.Q. until for the second time the dug-out
+containing the installations was blown in by a High Velocity shell.
+Severe shock was sustained by the gallant officer, who was discovered
+later, alive but quite dazed, and taken to Hospital. Since then he
+has successfully undergone treatment at the B---- Base Hospital Camp,
+which he quitted little more than a week ago, with a convalescent
+discharge. To add to the strange interest, and thicken the mystery
+of the case, it has transpired that on the morning he left the
+Hospital Camp at B---- the missing officer was married to a young and
+attractive lady, by name Miss Lucy Burtonshaw, serving with her Red
+Cross Unit at the B---- Base Convalescent Camp, as a certified nurse.
+Up to the present we can only record that whether the disappearance
+of Colonel Yaill may be ascribed to foul play, or a sudden loss of
+memory, no clue has been discovered up-to-date which throws any light
+upon his whereabouts. At his country home, 'The Grange,' Scraefell,
+N. Cumberland, his sisters, the Misses Olive and Isabella Yaill, are
+in the utmost distress and anxiety regarding his probable fate. At
+his Club _The Services_, in Pall Mall, no communication has been
+received from him, nor can his brother, Mr. Anthony Yaill, K.C., or
+Sir Arthur Ely, head of the eminent firm of Ely and Ely, for many
+years solicitors to the Yaill family, supply any information whatever
+concerning the missing officer."
+
+
+Private John Hazel, returned to the bosom of his family at Campden
+Hill, read this, or a similar paragraph, in the morning Wire, and
+somewhere towards forenoon of the same day, received a telegram, the
+perusal of which gave him another unexpected thrill. It ran as
+follows:
+
+
+"_Can you come? In great anxiety. Katharine Forbis Kerr's Arbour
+T.O. Cauldstanes Tweedburgh N.B._"
+
+
+He had written a brief, business-like note from the _Cross Keys
+Hotel_ on the day of his return from her father's funeral, taking
+leave of Miss Forbis, repeating his offer of service, and enclosing
+an address from whence, in case of need, he might always be
+communicated with. Strangely soon the call had come. Strangely
+natural, as in the run of long-accustomed things it seemed to be
+responding to the appeal, to answer by the messenger waiting the
+reply:
+
+
+"_Thank you. Coming by next train._"
+
+
+He pitchforked a few necessaries into a battered suit-case, left a
+pencilled note upon the lid of Mrs. Hazel's large, responsible Red
+Cross work-basket--for his mother now invariably left home directly
+after breakfast, for the Work Rooms in Mayfair--where, in the
+delectable company of Duchesses--she spent the hours in the
+manufacture of Life-Saving Waistcoats for the Fleet, and felt
+Hospital slippers, until six-thirty. Consuming luncheon, carried in
+a plated box, and rigorously relegated to such forms of nourishment
+as may without reproach be assimilated by patriotic British digestive
+organs in War-time; taking a frugal tea on the scene of activity; and
+returning at seven to partake of a dinner of generous succulence.
+Having thus discharged his duty as a son, John departed by taxi for
+King's Cross, catching the very next express leaving for the North....
+
+The room he had previously occupied at the _Cross Keys_ was vacant.
+He stepped into its queer conglomeration of ancient smells, and the
+glass-eyed society of the birds and beasts and fishes in their musty
+cases, and it might have been that he had never gone away, but that
+Mrs. Govan in person served his supper in the clammy coffee-room, a
+part-knitted khaki-coloured sock, bristling with steel
+knitting-needles, tucked under a stout arm, and the ball bulging the
+pocket of her apron of black silk.
+
+"Eh, dear!" Mrs. Govan had ceased to address John as "Private" since
+she had realised his somewhat indeterminate yet undeniable connection
+with "the family" at Kerr's. "Eh, Mr. Hazel! but this is grievous!
+... And to think that I met Cornel Yaill wi' the meir an' cart the
+vera' nicht he cam' down to atten' the Funeral. Gin' auld Sir Philip
+cud have kent! But Providence was mercifu'. And sair it has irkit
+me to think o' Miss Forbis a' alane there at Kerr's, like the last
+aipple on the strippit tree, as I hae said to Govan, an' telegrams
+rattlin' ower the wires wi' 'Reply Paid' to the lave o' them--from a'
+the warld and's wife, beggin' an' prayin' till her: 'Darling
+Katharine, let us come to you, or if not, winna you come to us,' and
+gettin' answer: 'A thousand thanks, but no. Lovingly, Katharine.'
+An' sae, when I e'en kent she had sent for ye, I juist drew a free
+sough."
+
+Evidently there had been a serious leakage from the Cauldstanes
+Telegraph Office. John mentally registered the evidence as Mrs.
+Govan continued:
+
+"Ye'll have haird the latest news o' Cornel Yaill, dootless?"
+
+"Has he been found?" her guest inquired, eliciting the shrill
+disclaimer:
+
+"Na, na! We'se hae the Police traipsin' in an' out the bar makin'
+their inquiries--an' the wee laddies in the short breeks--the Boy
+Scouts I suld say! scoorin' ower the face o' the lan', but neither
+bone nor feather o' the man hae they fand for a' their pains! And
+mair nor me an' Govan thinks," she pursed her lips mysteriously,
+"that it'll be no' for's ain guid when they rin the Cornel
+doon--wherever's his hidie-hole! Weel free o' siccan a mislaird
+rogue Miss Forbis may coont hersel! Marriet on a stranger
+wumman--faugh!--an' the bauld, traipsin' craitur huntin' him doon,
+un' telegrams to the verra door o' Kerr's Arbour. 'Have knowledge
+whaur ye are. Return instantly, or I will follow. Your wife, Lucy
+Yaill.' Set her up for a shameless hussy!--an' the brawest leddy in
+Tweedshire--ay', an' the haill o' Scotland--wi' grand, gentlemen many
+a ane etchin' to pit a ring on the white hand o' her--"
+
+Mrs. Govan broke off in the midst of her tirade with a sense of
+genuine alarm. For the blazing black eyes under the heavy brows of
+John Hazel were sternly set upon her; and the great hooked
+nose--"siccan glowering e'en, an' siccan a hawk's neb!--eneuch to
+fricht a body!" seemed fraught with threatenings of doom to come. He
+said in his deep voice:
+
+"Miss Forbis will hardly thank you for your praise of herself
+personally, if you couple with it such confoundedly libellous abuse
+of her nearest and dearest friend."
+
+"Guidsake! ... I'm sure I never thocht.... To be sure naething is
+kenned for certain.... Ye'll keip it frae Miss Forbis, sir, if I
+said onything to offend! ..." and the flurried woman bumped down the
+dish upon the cloth and vanished, leaving John Hazel wondering why on
+earth he had stuck up for the man.
+
+He slept with the stuffed birds and beasts that night, and next
+morning, after breakfast, the mare Brownie being under the veterinary
+for a chill, the old black horse, her stable-companion, having been
+sent to the blacksmith's for roughing, and Alec Govan's motor-cycle
+having been requisitioned for the postman's uses--John set out on
+foot for Kerr's Arbour.
+
+It was piercing cold; the east wind carried the bitter tang of the
+North Sea, the country lay under a fresh cloak of new-fallen snow,
+and the chilled thrushes and blackbirds and robins huddled
+disconsolately in the cropped hedges, and the low bushes and plumps
+of ivy swaddling old tree-stumps in the plantations by the roadside.
+As John Hazel's long active legs left the miles behind--what was a
+road ankle-deep in snow to a Territorial who had wintered in Flemish
+trenches!--he wondered somewhat as to the nature of the service
+Katharine Forbis would require at his willing hands.
+
+Help, it might prove, in some further efforts to gain intelligence of
+the man who had vanished so suddenly.... Who could not be traced,
+nor ever would be, until the body should be found.... For Edward
+Yaill was dead, most certainly. Once Katharine Forbis had showed you
+plainly she despised you, how could you bear to live any more? Yaill
+had had that much of manhood left in him. So he had gone out with a
+definite purpose,--and in some dense plantation, or lonely granite
+quarry, thick-draped with curtains of bramble, had shot himself;
+creeping well in under the growths to be securely hidden, and
+died--and there an end of him....
+
+Odd how those miserable grey eyes, with their haunting stare of
+agony, kept rising up before John Hazel, as he tramped over the
+hog-backed Roman road over which how many old dead-and-gone Forbis of
+Kerr's had led their bow and spearmen against the Picts, or Viking
+pirates from the wild North Sea; or pricked forth to the Wars of
+Balliol or Bruce--or set out in state and pageantry, with fair ladies
+in painted litters, or on gaily-caparisoned palfreys--to the Court of
+the Scots' King at Stirling or Edinburgh. And he wondered at the
+strange, impersonal love he felt for them, so brave, so bold, so
+tender, so gallant and gracious--from the Roman Prætor of
+Alexandria--who had given the black onyx ring to his (John Hazel's)
+ancestor--down to Sir Rupert the Cavalier, and the fine old General
+and the lost Julian, and Katharine....
+
+Ah, Katharine! ... Again he saw her noble face irradiated by the glow
+and glamour, the mysterious beauty that transfigure even a plain
+woman when she loves with all her soul.
+
+And then the face of Yaill, with its anguish and despair, rose up
+before him clearer than ever. He heard the compassionate voice of
+the V.A.D. woman saying:
+
+"His wretched, _wretched_ eyes! ... I _hope_ I'm not going to dream
+of them! Oh! there _must_ be something to be said for a man who
+looks like that! ..."
+
+Suppose the man were innocent--the luckless sport of horrible
+circumstances! ... Had John Hazel been of Scottish blood, he would
+have said, "I'm fey." Being what he was, he said vigorously, "I'm a
+bally idiot!" and continued tramping along the snowy road.
+
+Past the hollow way, crossed by a strip of ice, where the snow on the
+overhanging trees was thawing in long drips and splashes, and the
+benumbed birds showed more active signs of life. Out of the hollow
+way, on the left a dense plantation, on the opposite side to, and
+about a quarter of a mile below the iron gate of the entrance to the
+Kerr's Arbour private road.
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+A whistle shrilled near by, keen, sharp and silvery. John Hazel
+stiffened at the sound, as a seasoned soldier will. But nothing was
+in sight but a wee tow-headed laddie, "a kid" John would have called
+him--in a ragged suit of moleskins, cut down from adult-sized
+garments, who perched on the topmost round of the hog-backed stile
+leading into the plantation, and blew a shining whistle, from which a
+lanyard hung.
+
+The small boy saw John start, and thrilled with secret exultation.
+To own a silver whistle and have no one to admire you is really
+little better than having none at all. So he blew again, lustily,
+with one eye on the big black "soger," and John Hazel pulled up
+steaming, and passed the time of day....
+
+"Who are you, you queer little beggar, and where did you get that
+whistle?" he began.
+
+At this the small boy scrambled down from the gate, and came to the
+roadside. He was a freckled child of eight or so, with wide gaps
+where first teeth had retired from the conflict, and a nose that
+sadly needed wiping, and broken festering chilblains on his swollen
+ears and hands. But his sharp blue eyes were bright on the
+stranger's as he answered:
+
+"I am nae no beggar ava, but Meggy Proodfoot's wee laddie. An' I
+fand the bonny whistle in yonner woodie the morn."
+
+By the jerk of the cracked and swollen thumb John guessed "woodie"
+meant plantation. He said, blowing out his long brown cheeks, and
+scowling with mock ferocity:
+
+"That's a real soldier's whistle, not a thing for a kid to play with.
+You should give it to your daddy. He's a soldier, I suppose?"
+
+The small boy returned, grinning:
+
+"I dinna ken--for my daddie is no' a kirk daddie. Some say he maun
+be Keeper Todd, but my mother says it's no'! She's thinkin' he's the
+engineer that cam' wi' the steam-thrasher,--an' she ca's me a puir
+come-by-chance when she has a drappy on. I'm no mindin'!" The
+freckled face turned up to John's grinned hardily:
+
+"Give me hold of that whistle a minute, you infantile philosopher,"
+said John Hazel, and took it in his hand. It bore the silver
+hall-mark,--was an officer's signal-whistle. On the butt was
+engraved in clear fine letters:
+
+"E. A. Yaill (R.C.) Lieut. Col. R. Tweedburgh Infantry Regt."
+
+Here was the clue. Was the secret hidden in that plantation? John
+Hazel's face became so grim that it terrified the boy.
+
+"Gie me my whustle back, man, an' let me gang awa' hame, noo! Ye'll
+no tak it fra' me?" he stuttered, blinking back the tears.
+
+"I must take it from you, for I know the man who lost it. But I'll
+give you half-a-crown instead, to buy another," said John....
+"You'll like the new one awfully!" ... John added as the coin changed
+owners. "And I'll give you another sixpence for sweeties if you'll
+tell me what else you found in the wood."
+
+"Naething at a' but a bit o' broon cloth--soger's cloth like yon--"
+A stubby finger pointed at John's sleeve--"stickin' oot o' a tod's
+howe, an' the bit white string near by."
+
+"You mean the lanyard. Well, then--"
+
+"Eh, then I pu'ed the wee bit string an' the siller whustle cam' oot
+wi't, an' sae I took the whustle an' ran awa' to pley. An' when I
+saw ye comin' I thocht ye were the Man. Noo gie me the bawbee!"
+
+"You mean the sixpence! Tell me about the Man you mean,--and earn a
+shilling instead."
+
+"Ay! The Man was dressed like yoursel is--but grand, like an
+officer, wi' gowd on his bonnet an' sleeves, an' mair ribbons on his
+breast. No the day's day, but back in the week, I'm thinkin' it was
+Monunday!--I seen him comin' doon the road, an' he fleyt me wi' his
+een."
+
+"He scared you with his eyes? What did you do then?"
+
+"I bude to rin awa' at first, because 'twas gettin' fell mirk-like.
+An' sair I wantit my tea and lardy-piece. But I didna' rin ower far.
+I muntit the fence an' keeked roun' a buss, an' saw him loup in ower.
+An' he gaed intil the woodie, an' cam' oot nae mair!"
+
+Come By Chance pointed with a chilblained hand to the stile of the
+plantation, and brought the hand deftly back to show its empty palm.
+The shilling having followed the half-crown into a pocket of the
+cut-down corduroys:
+
+"Hae ye anither?" the recipient demanded avidly.
+
+"No, but I might give twopence more to hear how the Man came out."
+
+"He didna!"
+
+A shadow seemed to fall on the brightness of the snow, and the wind's
+bite grew keener. John Hazel echoed:
+
+"Didn't come out? Are you quite sure?"
+
+"Ay, yea! for though I hing aboot to see, he showed nae bone nor
+feather. An' at lang last--when I'se fell hungert for my piece--an'
+fain to rin hame to my mither--anither man louped oot intil the road,
+an' cam' alang by."
+
+"How do you know it wasn't the Man?"
+
+"Because he was no' braw like the ither! He had nae gowd on his
+bonnet, an' his claithes were hamely like my daddie's,--or they wad
+be, gin my mither wad own that my daddie was Keeper Todd."
+
+John Hazel suddenly knew that the chill shadow had passed, and that
+the sun was shining. And he tossed another shilling to Come By
+Chance, saying:
+
+"There's another bob for you, you queer little rascal. Cut before I
+change my mind and want the money back!"
+
+And as the tow-headed took to his chilblained heels, revealing in his
+hurried flight that his shirt-tail hung out through a ragged hole at
+the back of his corduroys, John Hazel jumping the hog-backed stile,
+dived into the plantation. Something told him that he would come out
+much wiser than he went in.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+The dull tramp of heavy Service boots, following the maid who was
+that day John Hazel's guide, over the carpeted stone flags of the
+corridor to the little panelled morning parlour, brought an
+unexpected, welcome sense of relief to Katharine's overstrained
+nerves. The door opened, and she moved swiftly to him--stopping him
+with both hands held out, when he would have made his strange,
+half-Eastern salutation--saying in her full, womanly tones:
+
+"How can I thank you, Mr. Hazel?"
+
+He answered, tritely and clumsily, but with very evident sincerity:
+
+"By showing me straight off the reel, how I can be of use to you."
+
+Some aching spot in her sore heart was touched by his genuine
+eagerness to serve her. For a moment she could not speak.... So
+they stood, her fine white hand engulfed by Hazel's great brown one,
+his strong black eyes, unrebuked, dwelling on his lady's face.
+
+She looked older, with wide purplish shadows round about her
+beautiful eyes, and their clear golden-amber changed to sorrowful
+rust-colour. The clear cream and carnation of her skin was dulled to
+a pale olive.... The rich brown hair upon her temples, and above her
+brow, showed here and there a thread of silver. She began, speaking
+with a curious, hurried breathlessness:
+
+"Mr. Hazel, I know you must have seen newspaper accounts of the
+inexplicable disappearance of--a friend who--I have no need to hide
+the fact!--is very, very dear to me.... You must know that I speak
+of Colonel Yaill. You saw him here the Saturday you came here first,
+and later at my father's funeral. You--_Ah--!_ ..."
+
+Her eyes were on John Hazel's when the memory leaped into them. They
+dilated, blazed with tawny fire.... John thought of a lioness....
+She snatched her hand instantly away from his, crying:
+
+"What am I thinking of? Why,--it was you who threatened him!--he
+told me so himself! You said you would save him the trouble if he
+did not tell me of his marriage. How could I have forgotten? Is my
+memory failing me? And you.... How could you have come by the
+knowledge with which you menaced him? ... In Hospital? ... No! Where
+and how, then? The whole thing is a horrible mystery to me! ..."
+
+John Hazel told her, in a few bluntly-spoken sentences, just how the
+story of Yaill's marriage had been given him. She heard him to the
+end of it, and said, with the ghost of a smile:
+
+"So you entered upon your hereditary office of champion, straightway.
+And Lady Wastwood got the story from her Headquarters--I understand
+the whole thing clearly! She is a dear, and I love her, but a terror
+of a talker.... The whole county must have rung with scandal, ages
+before I dreamed that anybody knew...." She shuddered. "Oh, me!
+what things they must have said about Edward!--must be saying about
+him at this moment when he--"
+
+Her voice broke in a sob, and her full heart brimmed over. John
+Hazel said roughly, for he could not bear to see her tears:
+
+"They may talk, but there's one thing nobody on earth--or
+elsewhere!--will ever be able to say of him. That he isn't a
+thundering brave man!"
+
+The sudden, fierce carnation that had flooded the wide oval of her
+face a moment before, had given place to the olive paleness. Now a
+faint tinge of the banished red came creeping back again.
+
+"You threatened Edward Yaill--yet you defend him?"
+
+John Hazel answered simply enough:
+
+"I had to see that you were undeceived. You were, first of all, my
+business. But knowing what shell-shock means--as men have learned to
+know the hellish thing in this damned War--how, in common justice,
+can I condemn Colonel Yaill?"
+
+"Thank you! Oh, thank you! That does my heart good!"
+
+The wide, sweet smile curved Katharine's mouth again, and her dimmed
+eyes found a sparkle to cheer their sombre rust-colour. She went on:
+
+"To know that somebody besides myself pities him--you don't know--you
+can't know, what it means to me! For no one will have a kind thing
+to say for Edward. Beyond the newspaper flummery and flapdoodle,
+there won't be a word, nor a thought, that isn't--merciless to him!
+..."
+
+She was sitting now in her hearthside chair and John was standing on
+the other side of the fireplace. The antique mirror above the little
+Tudor clock, that had reflected Yaill's thin, handsome face and
+haunted grey eyes, gave back an image of the huge black head, the
+portentous hooked nose, and swarthy countenance of this new and
+strangely dominating force that had moved across the threshold of
+Kerr's Arbour, out of the veiled, mysterious Past, but a few days
+previously. His elbow rested on the mantelshelf, where the other man
+had leaned his: he clenched his great hand as he answered Katharine:
+
+"'Merciless.' ... And why on this rotten little planet should people
+be merciless to the man?"
+
+"Because"--she frowned and looked at John from between her narrowed
+eyelids--"because of the odd, clandestine fashion in which--after his
+strange marriage--Colonel Yaill has gone away.... I am not
+brilliant, it may be, nor very highly cultured. But I know, and very
+thoroughly--the world to which we belong. I speak, be it understood,
+of his world and mine." John felt himself an alien. "The world we
+choose to call Society. And Society will never pardon nor condone,
+nor exonerate this act of Colonel Yaill's."
+
+"Do you think the pardon of Society particularly worth having? Do
+you think the good opinion of a Society as fat-headed, as
+thick-witted and as narrow-minded as you represent it--matters a tin
+of ration apple-jam? ... Now listen, Miss Forbis! If you think me
+rude, an offensive brute, say to yourself, 'This man can't help it!
+He isn't in Society--but he is out to work for me! The wag of a
+finger of my hand would bring him from the ends of the world to serve
+or fight for me!' Please don't interrupt, for time is time--and I
+have more to say--"
+
+He drew a big breath that hurt his wounded lung, and went on speaking:
+
+"When you sent for me, I believed you thought that Colonel Yaill had
+put an end to himself. When I saw you I knew you had never for a
+minute entertained the idea--"
+
+She broke in now:
+
+"Never! The suggestion of suicide has been spread by people who know
+nothing of the man they slander. In absolute confidence I will tell
+you now--for how could you be of any help to me unless I absolutely
+trust you!--Edward Yaill has gone to the East to find my lost
+Julian--my dear brother, whom I have since heard was killed on August
+21st--"
+
+John Hazel's black eyes flashed. He broke in:
+
+"Miss Forbis, something of that sort is what I have suspected."
+
+"Wait," she said. "_He_ told me that he would not return to--to his
+wife--upon the old footing.... She had cruelly tricked and deceived
+him--he could not, once he knew the truth--endure to live with her!
+... So he made up his mind to go secretly away. He might have
+applied to the War Office--he has powerful friends at Whitehall--for
+a transfer to the Eastern Front. Why didn't he? That's one of the
+things I can't understand! ..."
+
+"Don't you know? ..."
+
+John's big voice boomed out, drowning the little silvery chime of the
+Tudor timepiece.
+
+"When questions like that crop up, the answer is, shell-shock. A man
+who is possessed of ordinary, healthy nerves, will act in an ordinary
+way. But the man who's been subject to the devilries of High
+Explosive, will pop up queer byways in his impatience of
+circumlocution--adopt unexpected measures; reach his objective by
+methods as destructively simple as--the rat's way of getting into a
+cheese. He _might_--supposin' he'd been a normal man--have
+engineered the thing at Whitehall. Being shell-shocked, he simply
+burns his boats and swims."
+
+Katharine begged:
+
+"Oh, go on! You're helping me!--you're helping me wonderfully.
+Things that seemed crazy--out of the comprehensible--are beginning to
+arrange themselves.... Now there's another point. You saw, perhaps,
+a newspaper reference to Sir Arthur Ely? Well, it has occurred to me
+as possible that Edward confided his plans to Sir Arthur--that
+impenetrable sarcophagus of Society secrets. You may have noticed
+that Sir Arthur's reply to Press inquiries showed a--a considerable
+degree of reserve?"
+
+John had noticed it. He admired Katharine's cool, clear, masterful
+way of assembling her evidence, and making her points tellingly, each
+in its turn. He kept back his own solid piece of conviction until
+she finished--
+
+"He has gone, I am convinced that I know where--though I can't make
+out how he managed going.... But one thing is clear. I must get
+word to him! ... He has gone to find Julian, whom he loved!--my
+Julian, who was killed by a Turkish shell, in the storming of
+Scimitar Hill on August 21st. That is where you come in!--that is
+where you can help me. In getting the news through to Colonel Yaill
+in case he does not know! ..."
+
+John thought a moment and said:
+
+"We might--in case he has gone out to the East believing your brother
+to be living--get the news to him _per_ advertisement in sundry
+foreign rags. Personals, discreetly worded, might do the
+trick--inserted in French and British papers, published in the
+Levant,--in Egypt,--and at Salonika, and in such others as are
+printed and disseminated by the Germans in the Near East."
+
+She caught her breath.
+
+"Can you manage that last stroke? ..."
+
+"I'll not swear I can, but there's a chance I may engineer it. Write
+out the ads. and let me have them at once! In English, French and
+German. Worded so that he'll understand.... Some ought to be in
+Turkish,--and others in Arabic, and some in Egyptian Arabic.
+For--your man's a bit of a linguist, unless I judge him wrong!"
+
+Katharine's eyes brightened with pride in her man as she answered:
+
+"He speaks most of the languages of the Orient, and Nearer East."
+
+"Good! Now, are you quite sure your brother has been killed?" He
+went on, meeting her startled look.... "Because the War Office isn't
+infallible.... A pal of mine--reported dead over eleven months
+ago--has spent about three in trying to convince the authorities that
+he's very much alive! Last week he heard from them, asking him to
+reconsider the matter! and send in another detailed statement; and
+now that he's convinced 'em of his existence--they've docked his pay
+for the eleven months he's been officially dead! ... And I know
+another man, a virtuous unmarried one-pipper,--who gets paid an
+allowance, monthly, for a missus and three kids.... They don't
+exist--and never did, but the Pay Department says they do,--and
+returns him the money when he tries to pay it back! One day they'll
+say he's robbed 'em--and call a Court Martial--but till then he
+spends the cash in cigars, and other forms of crime. Not as
+applicable as the first illustration, but still a case in point." He
+grinned.... "And hasn't it struck you, that Colonel Yaill, knowing
+the dudheads at Whitehall--would be likely to go on looking for
+Father Forbis as long as a chance remained? Now, what about those
+ads. you were going to write for me? I'm quite certain they ought to
+go in.... But mind you make it clear to Colonel Yaill that you've no
+private, first-hand information.... Put it '_Julian reported
+killed_' and then he'll understand!"
+
+She levelled her fine brows and thought a moment, then rose from her
+chair, saying:
+
+"Would this do? '_Edward ... Julian reported killed Gallipoli,
+August 21st. Seek no further_' or '_Search useless. Send address
+for communication. K._" Then as he nodded his approval, "Very well,
+I'll write the advertisements at once," she said. "Of course I don't
+know any Arabic, and my Italian is simply rocky--it always sent
+Father into fits of laughter.... But my German is passable, and my
+French is--quite decent.... I was educated at the _Sacré Cœur_
+Convent, Chalkcliff--where most of the nuns are Parisian ladies....
+Smoke if you care to, while I'm writing.... And do find yourself a
+comfortable chair...."
+
+She crossed the room to a well-used escritoire, inlaid ebony of
+Indian workmanship, glancing back to smile at John Hazel as she drew
+up her writing-chair. Her Persian cat leaped purring on her
+shoulder, and she rubbed her cheek against his warm silver-grey coat,
+giving the caress craved by his cattish little soul, before she
+gently set him down.... Then she began to write, and John sat
+watching her, revelling in her vigorous, healthful uprightness, and
+the grace with which her long limbs disposed themselves in the seated
+pose....
+
+"Don't rush it.... Take your time!" ... He was speaking from behind
+her. "I'll see that the others are cautiously worded.... A man in
+disguise as an Arab or a Turk might betray himself unconsciously, if
+his eye happened to drop on a line that was meant for him, you know."
+
+"'A man in disguise.' ..." She caught her breath. "Oh!--you are
+wonderful!"
+
+"Not even my mother ever thought that," said Hazel, with his gleaming
+grin. "But I'm ready to put money on my theory that the Colonel--to
+get out of England in the quietest way possible--has enlisted in some
+unit of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force."
+
+"As a common soldier--an ordinary Tommy! ... You think so meanly of
+him? ..."
+
+For a moment her broad front of displeasure was turned upon John
+Hazel. Then the anger died out of her as he said quietly:
+
+"I've learned to think a lot of ordinary Tommies, since I've been in
+this beastly War. And I stick to my opinion--for a reason!"
+
+He got up. His big hand had been in his bulging tunic-pocket. He
+pulled out a Brass Hat, ignominiously squashed, and with the peak
+broken--and said as he offered it to Katharine:
+
+"Here's my reason! Good enough, I think!"
+
+"Oh!" she cried, "where did you get that? ... It is Edward's!" ...
+And snatched it almost fiercely, and crushed it against her breast....
+
+"This too!" ... John thrust on her the silver whistle.... "A child
+was playing with it near the plantation below your Private Road....
+That put me on the scent.... I annexed the whistle--here it is for
+you!--you'll see his name is on it!--and went in and poked about....
+To discover the complete uniform of a British C.O., Field jacket,
+badges, Bedford cords, and the whole posh kit, wrapped up in a
+trencher, strapped with a Sam Browne, and stuffed into a fox's hole.
+Presently when it's dark enough, I'll lug the rest of the kit up to
+you.... Now, do you think I've grounds for my belief? ..."
+
+Katharine was trembling.
+
+"You frighten me!" she said to him. "The police and their helpers
+have searched and found nothing.... You come--and these hidden
+things are uncovered at your feet.... What does it mean? Do you
+believe that you and I have lived on earth before now? ... Are we
+taking up old threads that were broken ages ago? ..."
+
+"Not for a second do I believe that!" answered John Hazel. "But that
+we are influenced and guided by others who have walked this earth
+before us,--yes!--I certainly think we are! While they were about it
+they might have shown me where the Colonel got the suit of civvies he
+changed into when he gave his swank rags to Brother Fox for keeps.
+Plain clothes!" ... He answered Katharine's inquiring look as though
+she had spoken. "And pretty well worn.... Don't stop to ask me how
+I know!" ...
+
+"'Plain clothes'! ... A shabby shooting-suit...." Katharine repeated.
+"Wait one minute--I must look! ..."
+
+And she was gone.... The sixty seconds were barely ticked off by the
+gilded arrow of the Tudor timepiece before the door opened to admit
+her, minus the finds of the plantation,--panting a little, with
+flushed cheeks and radiant eyes of joy....
+
+"I have been to his room," she told John Hazel, breathlessly. "There
+is a camphor-wood press there where--since August, 1914,--I have kept
+the suit Edward was wearing when the War call came to him. Rough
+grey homespun--with a Norfolk jacket. And the things have gone out
+of the press. He must have taken them--"
+
+"I'm dead sure he took them! Now another question crops up, Miss
+Forbis. In these days of Compulsory Service--though the Act's not a
+fortnight old--how's an able-bodied man in plain clothes to avoid
+being captured by the Government's Fine Tooth Comb? Tapped on the
+shoulder by a Recruiting Officer or a policeman--and challenged to
+cough up his Conscription papers, or produce his Exemption Sheet?
+What would the Colonel's age be? Anything over the Limit?"
+
+The coarseness of his tone offended delicacy.... Her brows
+contracted as she answered with chilly dignity:
+
+"He was thirty-nine in May. (_Thirty-nine. And he might have
+married me when he was thirty-one!_)" her heart cried rebelliously.
+What had Edward thought to gain by those continued delays? She had
+been at her loveliest, she knew, when they had first loved each
+other.... Twenty-three--and between twenty-three and
+thirty-one--eight worse than wasted years!
+
+Years lost--foregone--wilfully forfeited.... Her heart wailed like a
+plover over its rifled nest.... And yet not lost.... Five of them
+at least had been glorious with happiness. There had been rare
+glimpses of sweetness even in these last three years of War....
+
+"Forgive me!" she said, wakened from sad memories by John Hazel's
+taking leave of her. "I was thinking.... I did not hear you....
+Must you absolutely go?"
+
+"I must not stay, Miss Forbis. The other things that are hidden in
+the plantation I shall leave you to find for yourself. The fox-hole
+is at the bottom of the bank facing south beside a big stone--you can
+hardly miss it! You will hear from me, when there is anything you
+should know--until there is, good-bye!"
+
+She said, with her characteristic, cordial imperiousness: "Good-bye
+comes after luncheon! ... You must not leave this house again without
+breaking bread! ..."
+
+He yielded, and soon they were seated at a long, well-covered table
+in a room whose sombre panelling was relieved by inset portraits of
+dead-and-gone Forbises, glittering trophies of Indian weapons, horns
+and heads of big game; some fine pieces of Oriental porcelain and a
+noble buffet of silver plate. That sense of strangeness still
+remained. Strongly as the good things of the palate appealed to John
+Hazel's sensuous nature, he found himself swallowing hot savoury
+Scotch broth--demolishing cold game-pie and salad with the barest
+appreciation of their excellence--and gulping down the Chateau
+Margaux of the Kerr's Arbour cellars, as indifferently as though it
+had been the beer of the canteen....
+
+"Good-bye, Mr. Hazel," Katharine said at parting, "and God bless you!
+I shall never forget what you have done. Should I hear from Colonel
+Yaill, I shall communicate to the address you have given me. Should
+you hear of him--you will write to me here at Kerr's."
+
+She gave him both her white hands, returning his big strong grasp
+with warm, sisterly friendliness, sending a strange and wonderful
+thrill through the giant frame of the man.
+
+"May I--" he asked, almost humbly, with his black eyes entreating
+hers, in the way that a woman who has been wooed can never
+misunderstand....
+
+"If you wish!" she answered, cordially, and he stooped and touched
+with his fleshy lips the beautiful hands he held. Then he released
+them.... He was at the door, looking back at Katharine.... As he
+turned the handle she spoke impulsively:
+
+"Where are you going?--you haven't yet told me!"
+
+"I suppose because I thought you would guess," John Hazel returned.
+"The fact is, I got orders yesterday to join my old crowd--the
+'Fenchurch Streets'--at Salonika. So I'm going out to the Near
+East--to look for your friend!"
+
+"Not to fight?" Katharine asked, smiling, though touched by his
+rugged simplicity.
+
+He answered:
+
+"To do that, and the other job too...."
+
+"It is almost certain that I, myself, shall be going out to Egypt
+shortly," she told him, "to work at the Hospital of Montana near
+Alexandria--with my friends of the Red Cross."
+
+He nodded gravely.
+
+"Good luck to you and them! There's a thing I'd like to hear you
+say, Miss Forbis. Do you mind just telling me to carry on?"
+
+"Carry on, John Hazel!" said Katharine royally.
+
+He waved a hand to her, and was gone. And the great lonely, empty
+House of Kerr's Arbour was tenfold emptier and lonelier without that
+vital, powerful embodiment of faith and loyalty....
+
+
+
+
+_Book the Third:_ THE FINDING
+
+
+
+I
+
+Weeks after John Hazel had sailed with a draft of leave-expired
+"Fenchurch Streets,"--to join the Division to which that gallant
+London regiment was attached--with the British Mediterranean
+Expeditionary Forces at Salonika--and while brave British men in
+Palestine were cracking their teeth on that hard nut of Gaza--H.M.
+Transport _Loyalty_, (an ex-Austrian Lloyd Liner captured at the
+beginning of the War, and converted into a Mediterranean Hospital
+ship), sailed for Egypt,--and in the _Photographic Puff_ of the
+week's issue appeared--under an enlarged snapshot of the pre-War
+departure of the ex-Austrian Lloyd from Southampton Docks--this
+announcement:
+
+ "POPULAR SOCIETY PEERESS, COMMANDANT OF L.L.W.S.L.,
+ SAILS FOR EASTERN THEATRE OF WAR."
+
+
+Another periodical of the type that daily caters for readers of
+another order, published, under a portrait of Lady Wastwood in
+exiguous dinner dress:
+
+ "TRIXIE MAKES TRACKS FOR EGYPT TO FIND OUT WHY
+ SPHINX SMILES."
+
+
+While in the _Daily Wire_ of a few days' later issue was published a
+brief paragraph to the effect that H.M. Transport _Loyalty_ had been
+torpedoed on the fifth day of her voyage out to Alexandria; carrying
+some officers and men of the Egyptian Expeditionary Force returning
+from sick-leave; a detachment of Military Nurses and fourteen
+brand-new ambulance-cars; many War Hospital stores and comforts
+destined for our wounded, together with a complete unit of the
+British Red Cross.
+
+"Miss Forbis, V.A.D., of Kerr's Arbour, N.B., is included in the list
+of the rescued, as also Trixie, Lady Wastwood, O.B.E., Commandant
+L.L.W.S.L., who was on her way to the East to employ her well-known
+powers of organisation in the establishment of a Hostel for
+Convalescent Officers (Auxiliary) in the neighbourhood of
+Alexandria." The famous motto of the Legion is, doubtless, familiar
+to our readers: "Do Anything, Go Anywhere, Stick At Nothing, and
+Never Grouse."
+
+The usual boat-drill had not been neglected, and when the alarm had
+once been sounded, everybody had dutifully turned up at his or her
+allotted station in overcoat and cork lifebelt, to be not at all
+astonished by the intelligence that the scare was simply a dud....
+No attack upon the part of enemy submarines had been anticipated....
+The _Loyalty_, with her three vast squares of green paint bounding a
+white-edged Red Cross (outlined at night by brilliant electric
+lights)--amidships on each side, ought to be regarded as sacrosanct
+by German submarines.... But of course people understood there were
+loose mines in the Mediterranean, though the minefields were all
+known.
+
+Lady Wastwood had rather ruffled the good-humour of the Captain by
+constantly asking him how he could be Certain of this? But after he
+had personally conducted the Commandant, life-belt and all--for from
+this practical insurance Trixie never separated--to his chart-house
+on the Lower Bridge, and displayed before her green eyes a chart of
+the Mediterranean, ornamented with designs in coloured inks by the
+Navigating; Lieutenant--indicating areas strewn with floating mines
+by the Kaiser and the Sublime Porte, "G.M. at such-and-such a depth,
+and T.M. at such-and-such another," and illustrated the uses of the
+telephones between the Wireless Room and the chart-house, and the
+telegraphs linking the officer on the bridge with the engine-room,
+and the speaking-tubes communicating with the batteries of
+quick-firing guns fore and aft,--Trixie's anxieties were completely
+laid to rest. She thanked the Captain effusively, and with a
+gracious smile and bow to the Navigating Lieutenant, descended to the
+saloon-deck cabin,--which she shared with Miss Forbis--to renew her
+complexion for the 12.30 lunch.
+
+To wash your hands, arrange your hair and refresh your complexion
+while arrayed in a life-belt being impossible, Trixie removed her
+practical insurance, hanging it on the cabin sofa-end while she
+monopolised the looking-glass.
+
+"Of course I am a grouse--and a disgrace to the Legion, I know it too
+well!" she owned to Katharine, as she intensified her V-shaped
+Pierrot smile with a stick of scarlet paste, "and instead of playing
+rounders and quoits and clock-golf--which is exactly the same kind of
+thing as playing water polo in a wash-hand basin--what I really long
+to do is to huddle in a deck-chair, and look out for oily streaks and
+white breaks in the water. But I am the victim of a morbid
+imagination--that keeps telling me what happens to you when you get
+wrecked at sea. You go down and come up three times--and see all the
+events of your past life processioning before you. That must be
+horrible! And they say it always happens--the people, I mean, who
+have nearly been drowned--and were only just saved in time!"
+
+"But nobody who has been quite drowned has ever given an account of
+it," said Katharine, with her wholesome, heartening laugh.
+
+Sea and sunshine had done much for Miss Forbis. Private Abrahams
+would have recognised her for the bright-eyed, smiling woman he had
+met that day on the Menin Road.... We cannot always mourn the dead,
+or bewail the lost that are living; though often her heart cried out
+in anguish for her dear ones; and waking of nights upon the shallow
+pillow of the upper bunk in the suffocating cabin, she would feel for
+a silver whistle she carried in her bosom--and kiss it--and cry
+herself to sleep again.... Or lie sleepless amidst the creakings,
+the overhead tramplings and shoutings; the snorting of
+electrically-driven ventilators; the occasional thump! of a bigger
+sea than usual upon the bows of the _Loyalty_, and the dismal sounds
+emitted by sufferers from the malady of the sea....
+
+"How sensibly you look at things, Kathy dear," said Lady Wastwood,
+putting the final touch to her Pierrot smile....
+
+Friendly and even affectionate as were the relations between these
+two women,--no reference had ever been made by one or the other to
+that February day of Trixie's encounter with Edward Yaill on board
+the Scotch Express. But the subject was in the air, and both felt
+it,--and possibly because of this, their conversation was elaborately
+casual....
+
+Trixie added, as she intensified the eyebrows that resembled musical
+slurs, with a black pencil: "But really, my stupid nerves are
+quieting down! The skipper has cheered me wonderfully. There's
+something so refreshingly bluff and reassuring about a big smiling
+sailor man with white ducks and an Irish accent,--of the northern
+kind that one doesn't associate with dynamite and revolvers and
+masks. He has quite put my idiotic fears to bed. I shall
+never--AH!"--
+
+A hot, violet-yellow light seemed to fill the cabin, as the terrible
+detonation shook the _Loyalty_. The air seemed flame.... Dust
+filled their lungs and nostrils, and the shattering crash of
+descending tons of water, mingled with the great cry blended of
+innumerable voices, that goes up to Heaven from a mined or torpedoed
+ship.... Then the shrieks and cries ceased, as Discipline asserted
+itself. Through the deafening roar of escaping steam--and the racket
+of shattered engines--the bugle sounded the alarm--in deadly earnest
+now....
+
+"Come!" said Katharine Forbis. She wrenched open the cabin door,
+letting in a rush of water, seized both their life-belts and gripped
+hold of Lady Wastwood, who, half-swooning, wavered as though about to
+fall. Somehow Miss Forbis dragged her charge through a jam of
+white-faced men and women--along the broad gangway, oddly tilted
+forwards--ankle-deep in water--up the main companion--tilted too, at
+that queer forward angle--down which the sea was rushing in a heavy
+waterfall. Drenched and gasping, to reach the
+promenade-deck--emerging into the radiant beauty of a Mediterranean
+day with the shout:
+
+"All passengers on deck with life-belts on! All passengers on deck
+with life-belts on!" ringing in her ears....
+
+Sun and sea, sea and sun,--and Death at its ugliest--an uncanny
+combination.... There was no panic after the first outcry and the
+headlong scrimmage for the upper deck. The deafening boom of
+escaping steam made it necessary to shout so as to be heard by those
+who stood nearest.... The forward tilt of the smooth white planks
+increased momentarily. The _Loyalty's_ bow-plates and forward
+compartments had been stove in by the explosion. She was settling
+down by the nose, into the mirror-clear water--while the Military
+Nurses in their grey cloaks,, and the men and women of the Red Cross
+stood to attention on her tilting decks--and her officers went to and
+fro....
+
+There never had been panic, there was even a little laughter.... No
+fear of horrors of thirst and starvation attending on shipwreck in
+the crowded Mediterranean Sea.... The low grey hulls of the
+_Loyalty's_ two attendant Destroyers were visible on her starboard a
+long way ahead.... They were getting steam up.... "Coming to look
+after us!" shouted somebody to somebody. Of course they had been
+apprised by Wireless of what had occurred....
+
+"Great invention, Wireless!" shouted somebody else to Katharine....
+
+Katharine nodded back. She hardly felt depressed.
+
+"_B'mm. Hm'm! Oom'm m! ..._"
+
+A seaplane came droning out of the bright distance from where the low
+grey hulls of Destroyers showed, shepherding a stately procession of
+camouflaged troopers and battleships,--and hovered in narrowing
+circles over the _Loyalty_. Her pilot shut off--and his observer
+shouted something through a megaphone. What he said could not be
+heard through the roar of the escaping steam. Then he dropped a
+weighted note and flew away southwards, and the Second Officer
+grabbed the note and hurried off to take it to the Captain on the
+bridge.... Katharine never saw him again.... But inside the space
+of twenty seconds every soul on board the doomed vessel was in
+possession of the ugly fact....
+
+The _Loyalty_ had got out of her course,--strayed miles from the
+guarded ocean highway, traversed in comparative safety by the
+shipping of the Allies, patrolled by British Fleet hydroplanes,
+submarines and Argus-eyed T.B.D.'s.... She was in the middle of a
+Turkish minefield, one of those fulminating enemy areas marked out on
+her charts with lines and letters in coloured inks, that had been
+displayed by her Captain to the anxious eyes of Lady Wastwood. The
+powerful magnetos of a German submarine,--hovering in her near
+vicinity, had caused deviation in the British transport's compasses.
+Or, there had been a blunder--the truth will never be known....
+
+Of the boats that had got away from the ship,--the first were crowded
+with women only; the next were packed with women and a sprinkling of
+men.... They pulled away towards those grey shapes on the southern
+horizon--topped by columns of slanting smoke--and presently were mere
+specks upon the straining sight....
+
+As Katharine and Lady Wastwood were helped over the rail into their
+boat, and it was lowered to the level of the water--something like a
+shudder went through the _Loyalty_.... Her stern-ports lifted at a
+greater angle, and her bows were submerged more deeply. Looking up
+at her huge grey bulk, it seemed to Katharine that some vast
+cetacean,--bombed and harpooned--lay dying in agony upon the smooth
+and glassy sea....
+
+She saw the Captain on the bridge, binoculars in hand, speaking to
+one of the minor officers. Urged in some way, he shook his head as
+though in refusal, and as his subordinate quitted the bridge--resumed
+his interrupted scanning of the distant sea. Perhaps the binoculars
+had focussed the travelling top of a periscope, and the breaking of
+white water, miles away to the east....
+
+When the double White Death Streak cleaved the blue sea, and one
+after another two torpedoes hit the _Loyalty_ on her port side
+amidships--her bows plunged downwards, throwing most of the people
+remaining on her decks, into the water. Others clung to her rails
+and the roofs of her deck-structures, as with a thunderous rattle of
+scrapping iron, her bowels fell out of her mangled body,--and she
+dived and vanished in a whirlpool of her own. As her stern heaved up
+perpendicularly, lifting her huge triple screws sheer out of the
+swirling water, a Portuguese sailor scrambled up upon her counter,
+naked as in the hour of his birth,--and so stood poised; his rich
+brown body gleaming,--his wild eyes and bared teeth glittering in the
+sun:
+
+"_Mao riao parta o' diabo!_ ... (May the Thunderbolt split you,
+devil! ...")
+
+He shook his dark clenched fist towards the east, shrieking out the
+imprecation--meant perhaps for the Kaiser or the Sultan or the
+Commander of the submarine,--and dived magnificently as the ship
+sank, dragging down with her the last boats....
+
+And then, through suffocation, and roaring sounds of water in her
+ears--flashes of sunlight piercing her smarting eyes, wedges of
+blackness driving over mind and soul--lightning flashes of
+consciousness--gasped-out prayers to God, wild cries for
+help,--washed down her choking throat by volumes of bitter
+waters--Katharine Forbis came up out of the depths--to find herself
+floating in sunlight and strange silence, on a sea covered with a
+strange confusion of floating _débris_....
+
+Not alone, for all the silence. In the company of a good many other
+people, pluckily bent on keeping their courage up, and other folks'
+as well. Military nurses and Red Cross V.A.D's, orderlies, officers,
+sailors, Tommies.... Some of the men on duty forward had been
+horribly injured by the explosion of the Turkish contact-mine. What
+could be done for them had been done before quitting the sinking
+_Loyalty_. But as the blood from their cruel wounds drained away
+into the waste of water.... It was not the first time that Katharine
+Forbis had seen brave men die.... Then a V.A.D. woman perched with
+two others on a gangway, called to her across a patch of water--a
+lagoon ringed-in with floating wreckage:
+
+"Oh, do look at the Commandant!--I am afraid she is dying!"
+
+Treading water, paddling with a wooden fruit-dish, horribly hampered
+by her cork panoply,--Katharine crossed the patch of sea. The thin
+bluish wedge of Trixie's face lay tilted upwards to the jeering
+sunshine, against the slab of cork outcropping at the back of her
+belt. Her green eyes, half-open, looked hard and glassy as
+enamel--the livid lips were parted, showing the set white teeth....
+
+"Oh try to live!" begged Katharine. "See--there are ships in the
+distance!" She pointed to some grey shapes moving on the southern
+horizon under their slanting columns of grey smoke. "The boats that
+have left us will be picked up--they will be sent back for us! ..."
+
+"No ship commanded by a sane man will stick her nose into the middle
+of a charted Turkish minefield!" came from a man who hung on to a
+deck-seat and a wooden hen-coop next them, and had overheard. "When
+the contact stove in our forward plates I sent out the S.O.S. and got
+through to the Commander of one of those Destroyers...." He jerked
+his chin angrily towards some slanting streaks of smoke to the
+southward. "All he could do was to send that hydro from the nearest
+Battle Cruiser to have a look at us; explain what kind of a mess we
+were in--in case we hadn't guessed it already!--and tell us to wait
+for the boats! ..."
+
+And the speaker, who had been the Wireless Operator on board the
+_Loyalty_, whose head was swathed in a bloody towel and whose right
+arm hung broken by his side,--grinned a forlorn grin, and tightened
+with his teeth the buckle of the leather waist-strap that supported
+him on his improvised raft, as Trixie's head fell limply back, and a
+faint moan fluttered from her lips, that were getting ashen grey....
+
+"Please, please, don't give up!" said Katharine, mustering all her
+forces. She splashed water on the grey, peaked face and shook the
+thin shoulder. "Listen to me.... Do you hear? Don't you _dare_ to
+die! ..."
+
+But not Katharine's utmost efforts could have kept the dwindling life
+in Trixie, as the hours dragged on, and the blazing sun beat on their
+misery.... But that her good Angel, or Trixie's, reminded her that
+the little courier-bag slung about her shoulders, containing her
+money and papers, accommodated a tiny brandy-flask.
+
+A sickness of sheer despair came over her as she realised that,
+environed by the unwieldy cork slabs of her life-belt, she could not
+possibly get at the bag.... Then she remembered, when there had been
+a moment or two of delay in readying the ship's boat--she had taken
+the flask out of the bag, and thrust it in the breast-pocket of her
+serge jacket. With a rush of thankfulness she felt for it, and found
+it there still.
+
+It seemed long to Katharine before she could unscrew the flask-cap,
+and force a few drops of Cognac between the other's tightly-clenched
+teeth. When Trixie sighed, and opened her green eyes,--between her
+dazed vision and the marvel of a Mediterranean sunset, leaned the
+even greater wonder of a compassionate human face....
+
+The glory of the sunset culminated to its utmost splendour. Floods
+of blazing wine of rubies poured into the sapphire bowl of the
+sea.... The water was calm as a mill-pond,--the air was balmy
+sweetness--as the evening star kindled, under the round breast of
+Asia's radiant moon.... And of all the innumerable ships that passed
+and repassed along the crowded sea-road on the southern horizon, not
+one altered her course for the castaway passengers of the luckless
+_Loyalty_....
+
+They had been so brave, talking and cracking jokes--singing
+even,--asking riddles, and attempting recitations, "being British"
+some of them would have called it--up to the last volt of
+strength.... Towards morning they began to die,--the Wireless
+Operator leading the way, slipping off quite easily.... A baby went
+next, the only child on shipboard, and its desperate mother,--the
+English wife of a native official at Malta--shrieking--cast loose the
+rope that lashed her to some floating deck-fittings and, clutching
+the tiny body to her--leaped into the sea. And others died of
+exhaustion, and yet others; until quavering voices bravely raised in
+familiar strains of well-loved hymns, were dumb for sheer despair....
+But, after all, though not until Dawn had risen over the unseen
+Desert of Syria--the boats that had pulled away, came back for yet
+another freight....
+
+
+"Are we dead, you and I?" asked Lady Wastwood dreamily, waking out of
+an exhausted sleep, in a cabin of the trooper that had taken the
+rescued ones on board....
+
+"Not yet," said Katharine Forbis gently, stooping over her. "It
+seems that God has yet some work in this world for you and me to do!"
+
+"It is a lonely world," said Trixie faintly, and turned her peaked
+face to the bulkhead, "I had done with it! And--though it sounds
+horribly ungrateful, dear! I am sorry that you have brought me back!"
+
+"But I am glad you aren't dead," said Katharine, kissing her,
+"because I love you, and you know that you are fond of me!"
+
+"You saved my life.... I can never forget that," said Lady Wastwood.
+"My dear! there ought to have been somebody to photograph you doing
+it! What a success it would have made on the screens! ..." She
+returned Katharine's kiss with warmth. "It's quite true," she said.
+"I always have been fond of you,--you dear thing! That is why I was
+so frightfully down on poor Edward Yaill!"
+
+"Do not--do not let us go back to that!" begged the other, wincing.
+
+"I remember cutting him," continued Lady Wastwood reminiscently,
+"enough to have drawn blood. My Jerry always said--you remember how
+keen he was on golf? 'Mums carries too many clubs for one game, and
+always uses a niblick when it ought to be a putter!' But, believe
+me,--I really meant well!"
+
+And that was the sealing of a compact of sisterhood between Katharine
+and Trixie.... For that we have striven for we love as part of
+us.... And Friendship forged on the anvil of Endurance is a metal
+that will stand strain.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+Fresh from great triumphs in France, a Man came to Egypt in June,
+1917--burly and square-jawed, clear-eyed, vigorous and outspoken;
+startlingly young in looks for his fifty-six years,--until he removed
+his cap and you saw his bald, domed brow. The successes at Romani
+and Magdhaba and Rafa had whiskers. Plans for the taking of Gaza,
+that stoutly resisting stronghold of the Turk--long since evacuated
+by all civilians--had fizzled out; there was a hang-up somewhere,
+things had to be set going again. He moved G.H.Q. from Cairo to
+Kelat, in Southern Palestine--a huge wire-enclosed area on the
+grass-covered slopes within sight of the Mediterranean--and took
+things in hand. Two Rolls-Royce box-cars carried him and his
+Staff,--three armoured Fords preceded him as Scouts--and two others
+followed with Wireless and life's necessaries. So he would appear
+unexpectedly in various quarters, causing confusion it may be, to
+commanding officers--and huge contentment to the rank and file.
+
+He looked, upon a certain day in July,--on the positions of the
+forces attacking Gaza--from an observation-point affording room for
+three.... The day was misty, the Turkish 5.9 inch guns were silent;
+no warning drone of propellers counselled care as his binoculars
+swept the enemy trenches towards Beersheba, noting the railway-system
+for the shifting of big guns; the defence-works--enormously strong,
+and a tangle of barbed wire--running from Beersheba down to the sea.
+
+He came down, and went through the trenches asking questions: sat on
+a gun-limber eating bully out of a tin with a jackknife and commended
+the Engineers and the Egyptian Labour Corps for the pace at which the
+railway had followed on the heels of our Advance. Then he went
+away--and the rations increased in quantity, and later certain trucks
+came up by railway--containing barrels of a malty liquor much welcome
+to the thirsty throats of British soldier-men....
+
+Later in October, when the Irish Division, and the Indian Cavalry and
+the entire strength of the Camel Transport Corps, and the London
+Division which had fought with the assistance of one John Benn Hazel
+in France and Macedonia--had been added to the army of strange
+nations now mustered upon the soil of Palestine,--and the capture of
+Beersheba, with the well-springs of Sheria and the huge Turkish dumps
+that lay to the rear of them--combined with a bombardment from the
+hill tops round about her--from the sea to the West of her and the
+hot sky above her--had brought the gates of Gaza toppling down,--he
+swung into the camp of the battle-weary 'Fenchurch Streets,' a
+stalwart stranger in a battered pith helmet, sleeveless shirt, shorts
+and canvas shoes; and stooped under the door-fly of a tent full of
+dusty undersized Cockneys; unwashed, unshaven, bone-weary and just
+lying down to snatch an eyeful of sleep.
+
+"How's things going, Londoners?" he asked with cheery brevity; and a
+gaunt brown giant of six feet four with a bristling two-inch beard,
+and a portentously hooked nose, Acting Company Sergeant _pro_ So and
+so, sick or wounded--I forget which--recognised him, and said in a
+big bass voice, displaying a mouthful of large white teeth:
+
+"All the better, Sir, because you've come! We fellows said all along
+you'd be the man for the job!"
+
+"And, by G--" he said in his deep strong voice, "if you go on doing
+as you've done at Sheria, it won't be long before we carry
+through.... See you're wounded.... Anything much?" He laid a
+finger on a naked brown left arm, knotty with muscle, and decorated
+above the elbow with a bandage of iodine-smeared gauze....
+
+"Nothing, Sir, thank you, but a bit of a flesh-cut. A German officer
+slashed at me with his sword, as he tried to shoot me left-handed
+with his revolver."
+
+"Moral," he said, with his big schoolboy's chuckle, "don't try to do
+two things at once! And a scratch may turn septic, in this
+fly-cursed country, so don't neglect it, man! ..."
+
+And he passed on, to gladden the heart of the Battalion Commander
+with discriminating praise, and drop a few curt sentences;--pregnant
+with great issues--before he went away. Pausing beside the step of
+his car to ask with the smile that won the men and charmed the women:
+
+"Who's the big tyke overtopping the little Terriers in F. Company's
+tent? Not an exotic in this climate, or I don't know what it is to
+command a Jewish Battalion."
+
+"I think," said the C.O., "you refer to Private Hazel, Acting
+Sergeant to F. Company in place of Langston.... We call Hazel the
+'Lightning Change Artist,' because he's always doing somebody's duty,
+and doing it uncommonly well too! Killed twelve Turks with the
+bayonet in the scrapping at Sheria.... Sings as he fights--a habit
+when he's butchering men...."
+
+"Sings, does he? Curious...."
+
+"Sings in Hebrew, the men'll swear to you. Some of them call him
+'The Musical Maccabee.' We've two other Jews in the Battalion, both
+good men, but he's damned good! ... Peculiar in his refusal of
+stripes and so forth, else he'd have had his Commission long ago.
+Has the Distinguished Conduct Medal for something he did in
+France...."
+
+"Glad to hear that. He seems a hefty kind of beggar. Have noticed
+that he's wounded.... Would you recommend him for the Military Medal
+when you're sending in the other names?"
+
+The pleased Colonel reddened through dust and sun-tan:
+
+"Certainly, Sir, with pleasure, if you'll permit me! ... But there
+are a great many names, and I was rather thinking--"
+
+"My dear Sir, never under any circumstances think that there can be
+too many names!"
+
+"Thank you, Sir. With regard to Acting Sergeant Hazel.... He has
+been very keen on leave for Alex., since Sheria--most unusual thing
+with a man of that sort to risk the loss of a scrap. Some family
+affair perhaps. Has big interests in Palestine--chiefly wine and
+olives and so forth. Kind of a millionaire, I am told, in his
+way...."
+
+"I don't care a Syrian curse about the millionaire! but I'm ready to
+stretch a point to oblige the man who spits twelve Turks--and sings
+while he's doing it! He's got a knock from a German, too--and might
+have put in for a Red Cross bag--a ride in the White train--and a
+cane chair on the lawn at Montana on the strength of it! So send him
+down to railhead at Gamli with the wounded.... He can put in three
+weeks at the General Hospital at Alex, and attend to his business
+there...."
+
+"Very good, Sir! But it occurs to me that an R.F.C. two-seater
+scouting-plane in difficulties came down in our lines about an hour
+ago,--Wing Major Essenian Pasha on board--an Egyptian officer from
+the Ismailia Air Station--"
+
+"I know Essenian Pasha!" The tone was enigmatical. "Copt or
+Moslem,--nobody seems certain. Some people seem to think it's a case
+of being all things to all men. Though,--for my own part--if I had
+to place him--I'd rank him with the Advanced or Super-Jews. But the
+man's an incomparable scout, and flies like one of the Sons of
+Eblis.... Some of his reports have been damned useful! We sent for
+him to do some special reconnaissance over the enemy's rearguard in
+the hills. Have Djemal's sharpshooters potted the Pasha? Hope he'd
+made his observations first!"
+
+"The Pasha's all right, Sir, but his observer was shot dead.
+Flying-Lieutenant Usborn--there was a regular ding-dong battle over
+Hebron with some Turkish fighting-planes.... And Essenian Pasha
+would like us to bury Lieutenant Usborn--and supply an observer to
+replace him for the home-flight to Ismailia!"
+
+"Well, can you?"
+
+"It appears, Sir, that the Pasha knows Hazel. They foregathered at
+Salonika a month or so ago. And there being a lot of dysentery among
+the men of the Pasha's Flying Squadron--and Hazel having dabbled in
+aviation--five-guinea flutters at Hendon, I suppose!--the Pasha took
+him on several reconnaissance-flights. By the way, Sir, he has
+brought in a bit of intelligence.... The Sherif of Mecca's tribesmen
+are at Diariyeh--among the hills to the N.E. with the Emir Feisal and
+a host of Bedwân cavalry. And they're waging guerilla warfare
+against the enemy's rearguards and flanks."
+
+"Good for the Sherif Husain!" The keen blue eyes sparkled. "And
+news worth having. We shall be able to shift the --th Division
+outposts a good bit more to the N.E. Where's the Pasha? _Marhabâ_,
+Essenian Pasha!"
+
+"_Marhabtain Gananâr Saiyid!_" came the quick response to the
+greeting, as he turned to take the report from the dark hand of the
+Egyptian Flying Officer, looking back a moment later to say to the
+Colonel, with his parting handshake: "Well, so-long, Colonel!
+Remember, your next objective is Huj, the terminus of the Turkish
+branch-rail from Deir Sineid. The Desert Mounted Corps--3 Cavalry
+Divisions--pushed for there yesterday to cut off the garrison
+retreating from Gaza. So-and-so with such-and-such another force of
+mounted troops is working round by sea--to engage the enemy
+rear-guard at Beit Hannu. Dyemal's Eighth Army Corps on our right
+flankguard have rolled back towards Hebron." (Fifteen miles
+north-east from Beersheba, among the Judæan Hills.) "The only Turks
+now holding their ground are those facing the 53rd Division at
+Muweileh. They may not have heard of the fall of Gaza--as we have
+the cavalry between them and the rest of their Army--and Blank
+smashed the Gaza Wireless installation when he bombed their big
+mosque! You'll find the road to Huj nicely marked out with Turkish
+canteens, tin gas-mask-cases, stretchers and trenching-tools, and the
+terrain fairly continuous in its drop,--about forty feet to the
+mile.... Don't contemplate much trouble for you from well-posted
+Austrian batteries. The Warwicks and Worcesters and Australians have
+accounted for 'em all!"
+
+And as the baking Earth rolled up, blotting out the huge red-hot sun;
+and the short twilight heralded the sudden swoop of Night on Syria,
+the Rolls-Royce box-cars carrying the Chief and his Staff moved
+smoothly on, following the four armoured scouters, and the other
+Fords swung out and dashed after them.... And the dust of
+Philistia--watered with the blood of brave men since Wars began on
+this sad earth--how many times? rolled up and blotted out the moving
+specks, on the safety of one of which hung the hopes of Christendom.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+To Katharine Forbis, some seven weeks subsequently to her arrival at
+the Red Cross Hospital of Montana, an Egyptian Red Cross orderly
+brought a scrap of paper bearing a pencilled scrawl:
+
+
+"_Am back from the Front Palestine for ten days leave. Can you see
+me? Important yours faithfully John Hazel._"
+
+
+No more. But enough to call back the carnation bloom to cheeks paled
+by the sub-tropical heats of Egypt, and self-forgetful labours in the
+interests of wounded men....
+
+Morning duty, consisting in the conveyance of a motor-car packed with
+convalescents on an expedition to Ramleh and back,--was over. Miss
+Forbis had just returned, and was free for the afternoon. In her
+well-cut white drill uniform-skirt and coat with its shoulder-titles,
+Special Service badges, and scraps of medal-ribbon, her white blouse
+with its polo collar and natty black silk tie; her brown silk
+stockings and tan brogue shoes bearing the unmistakable cachet of
+Bond Street, setting off the workmanlike ensemble, and her handsome
+head crowned by a soft white Panama hat of the uniform shape, with
+the Society's ribbon and badge,--she made a gallant, gracious figure,
+bringing a mist before the eyes of the big, battered-looking,
+sun-blackened man,--bristlier than ever about the cheeks and chin,
+and arrayed in battle-soiled and much-patched khaki drill,--who got
+out of his cane chair in the wide white marble hall with pleased
+alacrity, knocking over with a bandaged, sling-suspended left arm,
+the soiled and dusty regulation sun-helmet he had put down on a
+little table of inlaid Egyptian work.
+
+And as he saluted her in his Eastern way, now familiar to Katharine,
+swift strangling emotion caught her by the throat. For a moment she
+could not find voice. For John Hazel brought the panelled parlour at
+Kerr's Arbour with him; and set it like a scene between the white
+marble pillars where whirred the electric fans, between the gilt and
+friezed and painted walls, and under the fretted ceilings of the
+Egyptian despot's palace, built on the rocky height at the foot of
+which break the milk-warm surges of the Mediterranean. And once
+again the old pain at her heart,--dulled by long months without news;
+by change of scene and change of work, to an aching sense of
+emptiness,--woke up and cried for all that she had lost.
+
+She said with her wide heartening smile, as his huge hand swallowed
+hers, still wearing its tan gauntlet:
+
+"You look wonderfully fit, though you're wearing a sling."
+
+"Fit's the word!" He grinned the big toothy grin so well
+remembered.... "A walking testimony to the nutritive qualities of
+Maconochie, tinned salmon, Prynn's Baked Beans, Army brickbats,
+sticky flycatcher dates and chlorinated Nile water.... For we've
+travelled a long way since the imbecilities of the Crimea," he said,
+with his black eyes drinking her in.
+
+"Thank God, we have!" Katharine flushed a little under his strange
+scrutiny, painfully conscious of the unrelaxing grip of his huge,
+hard, blackened hand. For John Hazel stood, oblivious of its
+crushing pressure, drinking in the joy of her near presence, inhaling
+the rare sweetness of her fair, wholesome womanhood; the fragrance of
+her hair and breath, and garments, coming to him mingled with the
+perfume of the half-opened red rose--still dewy in the heart of
+it--that she had stuck in the buttonhole of her uniform jacket that
+morning, and forgotten to take out again.
+
+And Katharine upon her side was conscious of a strange environing
+atmosphere; a virile, heady compound of exhalations from the desert,
+the march, the bivouac and the battlefield, emanating from the
+garments and the person of the man. The sun-baked blackness of his
+skin seemed its natural tinting. Whiffs of the wormwood of desolate
+places mingled with the aroma of thyme, clover and strong
+tobacco,--the smell of horses and tanned leather; the sharp tang of
+melinite, and the penetrating odour of sweating human flesh.
+
+A moment more and he released the hand he held, giving a dismayed
+exclamation, and taking a long backward step.
+
+"Hold on! What have I been thinking of!" Concern was in his voice.
+"I'm not fit to touch you! Do you know it's a fortnight since I
+washed last!" His fleshy mouth twisted in disgust, as he surveyed
+his martial griminess, continuing: "We've been short of water lately.
+Only allowed a pint _per diem_. Strictly for internal irrigation,
+nothing allowed for the outer man! And when Essenian Pasha dropped
+me at the Alex. Air Station--and thundering good of him too!--I'd
+only time to grab a bite of breakfast at the N.C.O.'s Mess
+Tent--swallow a mug of coffee--tumble into a car--borrowed from the
+R.F.C. men!--and just chuffle along. Why I was in such a cast-iron
+hurry--that's what I've got to explain to you. And when I saw you I
+clean forgot what a beastly sweep I am! I couldn't--" The deep,
+rough breath he drew added quite plainly, "I couldn't think of
+anything but you!"
+
+"Don't you imagine, if you and other brave men can put up with Dirt
+for Duty's sake--that we women--even those of us who don't wear this
+uniform--can put up with you men? And you can have a hot bath here
+at any moment, Mr. Hazel." Katharine's full tones were tinged with
+laughter as she added: "And a second breakfast,--unless you don't
+mind waiting the half-hour, which will make it the official noonday
+meal. Now which will you do? Have that bath--or stay and talk to me
+on, the lawn or in here until the Staff lunch?--at which meal your
+picturesque battle-grime will make you the admired of all?"
+
+"It's simply first-class here!--a kind of mix-up of the Alhambra at
+Granada and an Egypto-Grecian temple," he said to her, gratefully
+sensing the breezes from the whirring electric fans. "And that
+little fountain, splashing and gurgling--makes a man who was in the
+Syrian Desert east of Gaza, up to the evening of day before
+yesterday, marching and swotting Turks on a pint of doctored Nile
+water _per diem_--want to stick his blooming head in the basin and
+drink it all up."
+
+"I--think I'm beginning to comprehend!" Miss Forbis's fine eyebrows
+relaxed their tension, and the puzzled expression left her face.
+"You fogged me rather, a minute back--about being in the Desert near
+Gaza up to the evening of the day before yesterday.... But now--"
+
+"Now you're clear that it isn't a case of bats in the belfry.
+Haw--haw!" He broke out into the big noisy laugh that had once set
+Katharine's teeth on edge. "Of course it'd have taken three days if
+I'd come by the Woggler from Railhead. The Woggler, I ought to tell
+you, is the Desert Express. Trucks roofed with packing-cases nailed
+together--nail-ends up--to accommodate the troops. Pullmans,--seats
+faked with American cloth over a thin film of tibbin,--specially
+reserved for Officer Sahibs. Not that the Army ain't proud of the
+Woggler! In its way, it's an epoch-marking, eye-opening Thing. But
+I happened to be in a dithering hurry. And a chance turned up of
+getting here by the Air Route, do you see? ... Safe as houses, for we
+followed the coast and had no scraps--the Turks are very short of
+fliers!--and we only came down once, for petrol, at a seaplane
+station near the Rest Camp at El Arish."
+
+The gesture of his blackened hand made light of fatigue, risks,
+perils and privations attending the long flight from Palestine....
+Katharine admired the simplicity with which he spoke, as she said
+with a touch of reproachfulness:
+
+"It seems very long since you came to me at Kerr's Arbour, Mr. Hazel.
+And all these months you have never once written--although you
+promised!"
+
+"I said I would not fail to write--if I had any news for you!"
+
+That deep voice, and the simple words that meant so much to
+Katharine.... The white marble pillars of the hall appeared to sway
+and totter. The jewelled plume of a fountain playing in a fretted
+basin seemed to leap to the patterned roof and then shrink small
+again....
+
+"Have you news--at last?"
+
+"Some!" he said briefly.
+
+"What?--"
+
+The sudden dilation and darkening of her lovely eyes betrayed the
+desperate hunger gnawing in her. The eyes fastened avidly on Hazel's
+blackened face. She held her breath for his answer. It came as he
+slewed his head,--looking through the triple arch of the Palace
+vestibule to the green, carefully nurtured lawn, the glory of
+Montana--whence the smack of racquet upon tennis-ball came, and the
+sound of cheerful voices, telling of relaxations on the part of the
+Medical Staff, the Nurses and V.A.D's.
+
+"This--that Colonel Yaill is alive and well. I have seen him!"
+
+"Thank God!" Katharine said, "O--thank God! ..."
+
+She put out her hand to the back of a chair and gripped it to steady
+herself. When her leaping heart had quieted she addressed herself to
+a colossal back-view, so shorn of martial dignity by patches of Army
+sacking, that Katharine's voice wavered between laughter and tears:
+
+"And God bless you, John Hazel, for bringing word to me!"
+
+"I have better than a word!" He wheeled about and faced her. "I
+have a letter from him for you! ..."
+
+As he drew it from a baggy front pocket of his tunic, the radiance
+that broke over her was fairly dazzling to the man's eyes.... He
+trembled as she stretched out both her hands to him, entreating:
+
+"Give me his letter, dear John Hazel! ... Let me hold it while you
+tell me where you met with him! ..."
+
+The object that caused such turmoil in Miss Forbis's bosom was a
+single sheet of coarse yellow Levantine paper, folded to oblong
+shape, stuck in three places along the edge and at either end, with a
+mixture of white clay and beeswax, and sealed with a ring given to
+Yaill eight years previously. How well the giver of the old
+love-token remembered that hexagonal sard, deeply cut in old Roman
+capitals with the name: "KATHARINE." How dear and familiar the small
+neat handwriting of the pencilled address: 'Miss K. M. Forbis, Kerr's
+Arbour, Near Cauldstanes, Tweedshire, N.B.' ...
+
+"The morning after Sheria--before it was daylight"--how she hung upon
+John Hazel's utterance, watching the movements of his fleshy lips,
+drinking in every word--"we were cleaning out enemy trenches, and
+blowing up ammunition-dumps and testing wells for poison, and burying
+dead Turks--and so forth!--I was passing the Intelligence Officer's
+tent--quite a toney fit-up on the top of a mound--with a native
+string-bed, and a camp chair, and a sugar-box table, and lighted
+candles on that,--for the thermometer was climbing up into the
+seventies and the front fly was up--for the sake of fresh air....
+When I tell you that the I.O. was questioning Turkish
+prisoners--under a guard of Military Police,--and putting Syrian and
+Arab scouts through their paces, and interviewing village
+patriarchs--you'll understand that the atmosphere was--well!--"
+
+"I can imagine! ... But, do please go on!" All unconsciously she
+cuddled the precious letter to her bosom, holding it with both hands
+and smiling over it at John....
+
+"Well--as I was passing by and happened to glance in--an Arab dressed
+much the same as the others--a thin, tallish, sinewy Bedawi in a
+flowing black camel-cloth mantle, and silk head-veil trimmed with
+tufts of coloured gimp--and topped by the usual ring of twisted
+camel's hair,--rose up and made obeisance to the Intelligence Officer
+sitting at the sugar-box table,--and came out, followed by a brace of
+others--not quite so well got up. Walking as Arabs have the knack of
+doing--as if the round world and all that therein is--including the
+Desert--was hardly good enough to be trampled under the notched iron
+heels that they wear for killing snakes."
+
+She drank in the words that were heavenly music, bending her high
+head the better to concentrate her gaze upon the speaker's face.
+
+"And--?"
+
+"Well, the three Arabs--two of 'em not particularly interesting, and
+the one who'd been talking to the Intelligence Officer--no end posh
+in a necklace of gold-mounted lion's-teeth, and with strings of blue
+and red seed-pearls twined in his long side-locks,--the three Arabs
+were going to where their hairies were picketed--munching tibbin and
+sesame off a spread saddle-cloth--ragged looking yellowish-grey
+brutes with ewe-necks, and queerly-sloped cruppers; and high-peaked
+wooden saddles and big-bitted bridles, jingling with silver amulets
+and jewellery of sorts.... One Arab had a kind of cage-basket
+strapped on behind the saddle, with live birds stirring about in
+it--I thought falcons trained for sport--until they started
+cooing.... Well then!--in the sudden way it happens in this East of
+ours,--Day jumped over the Hills of Judea--and the Arabs got their
+prayer-rugs from behind their saddles, and made ready to say their
+prayers...."
+
+His black eyes seemed to look past Katharine into the scene that he
+described. He drew breath:
+
+"I was sitting on a sack of Turkish ration-biscuits--not half bad if
+you've nothing else to eat!--smoking an Army Issue Woodbine--and
+though the place was stiff with praying Moslems, I watched these--or
+rather this one! He washed in the sand--laid his praying-rug
+diagonally in the line for Mecca, knelt down, and went through the
+whole programme--praying with his forehead to the ground--praying
+with his hands to the sides of his head--praying with his body
+straight, resting on the knees, in the regular Mohammedan way. An
+uncommonly swanky Arab too!--the stock of his long-barrelled gun
+inlaid with bits of turquoise and mother o' pearl, a curved nine-inch
+dagger in a gilded sheath stuck in the front of his girdle--and a
+long silver-plated ivory-stocked revolver--about 44 calibre I
+judge--on the other side. I was to left of him: so when he slewed
+his head over his right shoulder to smile at his Good Angel, I saw
+the back of it--and when he twirled it back again to scowl at the
+Counsellor of Evil, I found him staring full into my face and
+scowling at me!"
+
+"And you knew him!--it was Edward!" Her voice was a song of joy!
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+"I'd seen that scowl on the terrace at Kerr's Arbour, last February,"
+said John Hazel. "And though he gave no other sign to tell that he
+recognised me, his eyes flickered for the tenth of a second--and I
+saw they weren't black, but grey. He took no more notice of me....
+He'd finished his prayer, and was squatting down
+cross-legged--running his beads between his fingers--so I pitched
+away my fag-end, and began to hum the tune of a song, sitting on the
+sack of Turkish Army biscuits. It might have been an English
+hymn--for all the genuine Arabs knew--"
+
+"What was the song?"
+
+"'Loch Lomond'--only the words were altered; to fit the
+situation--see? Something like this:
+
+ 'So I took the high-road
+ And you took the low,
+ And you got to Asia before me!
+ And Katharine Forbis sat waiting for news
+ At the bonny, bonny house of Kerr's Arbour!'"
+
+
+Muted down to the softness of a mother's cradle-song, the full mellow
+baritone breathed out the familiar refrain. Bringing tears brimming
+over Katharine's under-lids,--for by strangest chance the song was
+one of Edward's favourites, often sung by her to him in the
+twilight--in the dear familiar drawing-room of the old, distant
+home....
+
+"So you.... It was wonderful of you to speak to him in that way! ..."
+
+"Not original." He grinned at her. "A variation on the historic
+Blondel Stunt. Only Blondel was a London Tommy,--and Cœur de Lion
+a British Brass Hat, camouflaged as a Son of Islam. He took it like
+a rock, only I saw his eyelid quiver. Yes'm!--that descendant of the
+Prophet winked at the infidel with the eye that was next me.... Then
+I did a bit more of the Blondel dodge...."
+
+The smile ceased to quirk the corners of his fleshy red mouth, as he
+sang under his breath in the full sweet baritone:
+
+ "O Julian her brother was killed long ago!
+ So seek you no further to find him!
+ And give me a letter to take to her now
+ Where she's working for the Red Cross at Alex.!"
+
+
+"And what then? ..." Her colour came and went.... "Didn't
+Edward--didn't Colonel Yaill manage somehow to speak to you
+privately? ..."
+
+John Hazel shook his head.
+
+"Nix a word! He's far too old a hand at the risky business of
+walking about in another man's skin, to give himself away in that
+style. He got up and shook off the dust,--stepped into his loose
+gazelle-leather boots,--rolled up his carpet, mounted and rode off
+with his two Arabs--leaving me chewin' the rag! And yet I knew it
+was Yaill--and that he'd got my message!"
+
+"What did you do then? ..."
+
+"What did I do! ..."
+
+Forgetful in the excitement of his story, of his damaged left arm, he
+had released it from the sling, and used it freely, in the supple
+illustrative gesticulations that bespoke his Eastern blood:
+
+"What? O, I sat tight on the sack of rooty, and smoked another fag,
+until the sun got too hot even for me! Then I got up and stretched
+myself, and caught my chameleon--who'd been trying to desert--and put
+him back on my _sola topi_. We all wear chameleons on our helmets,
+khaki drill or the tin basin variety--the beasts are champion
+fly-destructors!--and I believe that's how dragons, and wyverns, and
+other metal wild-fowl of that kind came to be worn on Crusaders'
+helms as crests.... Then I hied me back to my bivvy--it was in a
+cave of the Wady Sheria, and had been used by the natives for keeping
+goats--and other lively skippers!--and breakfasted with some mates of
+mine--chaps belonging to my Platoon. I think the menu consisted of
+rissoles, made of bully-beef with onion, biscuit-crumbs and
+sand-flies; the bottom of a tin of Dundee marmalade,--more
+sand-flies!--burned-bean coffee, and dates--with sand-flies again.
+Barely finished when we got the route. Our Division were to follow
+up Djemal Pasha's Eighth Army Corps--what was left of 'em--over the
+hills towards Hebron, and before my company marched off, a message
+came for me. The Intelligence Officer wanted to speak to Acting
+Company-Sergeant Hazel--"
+
+Her eyes flashed comprehension:
+
+"Edward! ... My letter! ... Ah! I understand! ..."
+
+He nodded:
+
+"It was the one way to get the thing to me without drawing
+suspicion.... And it was given me in a similarly--unobtrusive style.
+It lay before the I.O. on the packing-box table with a lump of mica
+schist on top of it for a paper-weight. Says Intelligence:
+'Acting-Sergeant Hazel, I believe you have undertaken to forward
+this? ... The writer is much obliged!' So I saluted, and stuffed it
+in my pocket, and--"
+
+"Oh--what?" cried Katharine Forbis, for the brown face had changed to
+an ugly livid colour, as John Hazel swayed giddily and caught at a
+column near.
+
+"Nothing much! ... Got the sun on my head a bit yesterday. Right as
+rain in a minute--if--if I may sit down? But ... don't wait.... You
+haven't read your letter! And you must hate me for keeping you from
+that!"
+
+He sat down heavily in the chair she drew to him, feeling her cool
+firm hand touch his wrist and her long womanly fingers encircle it,
+hearing her worshipped voice speaking close by:
+
+"If one can hate one's kindest, truest friend, who has done so
+much--so simply and unselfishly--"
+
+He shook his dizzy head in his heavy buffalo-like fashion,--and
+muttered through the whirring of the electrically-driven
+ventilating-fans:
+
+"What have I done? Nothing much, anyway!"
+
+"You have flown to me out of the midst of battle, bringing Edward's
+dear message.... Wounded and with a touch of fever, or I don't
+deserve my nurse's certificate! Do you call that nothing? ..."
+
+"Little or nothing!" He shook his great black head doggedly as
+Katharine went on:
+
+"And I take it as my right! What claim have I to such service?"
+
+"Every claim," said Hazel's deep voice. "Every imaginable right!"
+
+"And--" Her voice broke between tears and laughter:--"And you
+encourage me in selfishness. Why, I haven't even asked you if you
+wouldn't like a drink! ..."
+
+"A drink!" he said with his old grin, though the brown of his face
+still showed faded, and deep lines showed by his jaws and at the
+wings of his great hooked nose. "A brandy and Polly with a lump of
+ice, and a ring of lemon in it. Offer me one now, Miss Forbis--and
+hear it boil as it goes down!"
+
+"You shall have it." Katharine said laughing, though once her lip
+would have curled in scorn of the vulgarity of the
+ex-insurance-broker. "But first you must come to the Out-Patient's
+Department, and let the Surgeon in charge there look at this arm....
+A mere nothing, perhaps, as you say"--for John was beginning to
+explain about its being a flesh-cut.... "When was it dressed last?
+... The day before yesterday! ... That's quite enough.... You will
+come with me! ..."
+
+So John Hazel, thrilling with well-concealed joy at being the object
+of his lady's solicitude, was towed away to a tile-lined,
+cement-floored Department on the Palace ground-floor, where the
+sword-cut on his left arm, looking rather angry--was bathed and
+cleaned, iodined, and strapped up by the doctor and nurse on duty
+there.... And the longed-for goblet of iced brandy and Apollinaris
+having been produced and duly disposed of--John Hazel took leave of
+Miss Forbis and went upon his way.
+
+"Where shall you be? ... What address will find you?" she asked as
+she gave him her hand in farewell....
+
+"I'm supposed to be quartered at a General Hospital at Alex....
+Number Thirty-Seven," returned John. "But I'm not due there until
+to-morrow morning, and I'm going to wangle leave to live and sleep at
+my own house...."
+
+"Your house! ... Have you a house at Alexandria? ..."
+
+"We have had a house at Alexandria for more than sixteen hundred
+years!"
+
+Again Antiquity rose up and confronted Katharine in the person of
+this big young man of powerfully Semitic type. He went on:
+
+"Of course I never saw it until the Division came to Egypt. I went
+over from Kantara, and entered into possession a week or so before we
+got the route for Palestine.... I like it! ... You would like it....
+It is the kind of place that's bound to interest you--for several
+reasons.... One of them being that it's a wonderfully preserved
+example of Roman-Egyptian Domestic Architecture. A relic of
+Alexandria--as Alexandria used to be...."
+
+Katharine said with her characteristic sweet heartiness, though
+Yaill's letter was burning to be read:
+
+"I should love to visit your house at Alexandria--if I may bring a
+friend with me? ... Lady Wastwood, who came out with me on the poor
+Hospital ship _Loyalty_ and has been very ill here. She is
+convalescent now and helping us in the Secretarial Department, until
+she is fit to take over her own work. And I believe she is rather
+keen on ancient inscriptions, cat-headed goddesses and crowned
+_uræi_--and all that sort of thing."
+
+"Then will you both honour me by coming to tea with me in the City
+to-morrow?--Numero VII, Rue el Farad,--I'll have a car waiting for
+you at the Palace gateway by sharp half-past four."
+
+He smiled, well pleased, as Katharine consented; and heaved up his
+great body, and reached for the battered drill sun-helmet, as the
+silvery note of the luncheon-gong sounded from the long corridor
+crossing the bottom of the pillared entrance-hall.
+
+"That's settled then.... Thanks all the same!--but I won't stay to
+luncheon.... Do you think I don't know how you're longing to get rid
+of me--and run away and shut yourself up, and read what you've got
+there! ..."
+
+His black eyes went significantly to the outline of Yaill's letter,
+thrust by Katharine between the buttons of her white silk blouse,
+when--at some juncture of the wound-dressing in the Out-Patient's
+Department--she had come to the help of the surgeon and charge-Sister
+with deft, accustomed hands.
+
+Her fine brows frowned a little at the familiarity, but there was no
+use in being angry with the man. John Hazel was just--John
+Hazel--Miss Forbis told herself; as standing in the sun-blaze on the
+doorsteps of the Hospital, she watched his great figure stride down
+the sanded avenue of swaying casuarina-trees, on the way to find the
+borrowed car left waiting at the entrance-gates.
+
+Women and doctors and V.A.D. members were streaming towards the
+Palace from every quarter,--but for Katharine the Staff luncheon-gong
+issued its second summons in vain. She was hurrying down a shady
+side-alley of cypresses and tamarisks--ending in a pavilion of marble
+fretwork--covered with the royal mantle of a great
+Bougainvillia--standing in a riotous tangle of November-blooming
+roses,--a dear resort of hers and Lady Wastwood's in their free
+unworking hours....
+
+"_Oh!_ just like a girl of nineteen!" she murmured, conscious of the
+thrill and tumult of her fair soul and pure body as she drew Yaill's
+letter from its fragrant hiding-place.
+
+Ah, my Katharine, but there you were wonderfully mistaken. Miss
+Nineteen would have failed to experience one-tenth of your blissful
+emotion as you kissed the folded sheet of coarse Eastern
+paper,--broke the clay and beeswax seals bearing the impression of
+your love-gift, the cut sardonyx--and read the words penned but a few
+days previously by Yaill's beloved hand.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+ "_A Camp In The North Syrian Desert,
+ --th November--the Month of Asphodel._
+ "KATHARINE, MY SWEET WOMAN, MY DEAR LOST LOVE."
+
+
+So wild a surge of memories came over her that her eyes were
+momentarily blinded. He dated from his camp in the Desert, as a
+pearler on some plunging lugger in the Indian Ocean may top his
+home-destined scribble: "The Open Sea...."
+
+She dried her eyes, and the lines were clear again. Something that
+the folded sheet had contained had dropped out. A white flower
+scarcely yet withered, and a little string of beads of some sort.
+She thrust them in the envelope--and the envelope in her bosom--and
+went on to read.... And the page exhaled the wild strange odour of
+the acrid dust of the Desert, mingled with the scent of horses and
+camels, of saffron and resin, tobacco and thyme and myrrh....
+
+
+"Twice I have seen your advertisements, my beloved. In a Greek
+gazette in a _café_ at Constantinople. Again, in an issue of the
+_Lisân-el-Arab_, a vernacular paper published at Damascus; once again
+on a torn scrap of a captured Turkish news-sheet, on the floor of the
+_maktab_ of the Governor of Akaba--the seaport at the head of the
+Gulf, where the Fleet of King Solomon unloaded their freights of
+ivory and ebony, gold and spices and apes and peacocks, close on
+three thousand years ago.
+
+"How did I come there? do you ask me, Katharine. What was I doing in
+the hall where the Governor gives audience to the Bringers of News
+from the Desert--sitting on the Carpet of Interrogation, smoking the
+_argili_ that aids thought? Because I was one of them--am one of
+them!--a petty chief of the Hejaz Bedwân, able to speak a little
+English--a spy set to supervise the doings of the spies.
+
+"Well, I picked up the paper, as became a scrupulous Mohammedan. Who
+knew that it did not bear the letters of The Sacred Name! And I
+kissed it, and burned it on the charcoal of the brazier, under sharp
+eyes that had not glittered on the message it brought to me. Though
+the Governor of Akaba is one of those few men who share my secret.
+Had One great man not known it from the first, it would not have been
+possible to have vanished into thin air with such celerity.
+
+"You never doubted for a single moment, sweet friend, dear comrade!
+that I had gone to look for Julian. Had I believed you would think
+otherwise, I would have managed to write to you.... But not to write
+was wiser--and the plan matured so suddenly.... When I took my last
+kiss from you, and went out of the chapel at Kerr's Arbour, I was
+uncertain what to do.
+
+"Then through the jungle of my thoughts I saw a way blazed for me. I
+went to my room, and took from the press an old tweed shooting-suit,
+and hung the things on my arm, under my waterproof trench-coat. I
+took my stick, and shook hands with Whishaw, and said Good-bye to
+him. His old eyes were red with tears, and my grip thanked him for
+them. Then I climbed the private road, and turned at the brae-top to
+take my farewell look of Kerr's Arbour. And oddly enough, the
+refrain from 'Loch Lomond' kept droning in my head. You were taking
+the high-road of Duty and Honour--and I was taking the road of
+subterfuge and concealment. But not, God knew! for any base end of
+mine! He Whose Hand has torn us apart--two lovers married in heart
+and soul--if ever lovers were,--my Katharine!--He must be just to me!
+Harsh though I knew him,--yet even then I saw He had tempered His
+harshness with mercy. For you, O my dearest--you had believed in me!
+
+"So I took initiative from that, and followed the plan I had thought
+of. I changed in the plantation opposite, but rather below, the gate
+of Kerr's Arbour private road. Then--seeing no one but a child--I
+came out of the plantation, having buried my khaki kit in a biggish
+badger's burrow. Cauldstanes people knew my face--so I struck across
+country for Stotts Junction, some twenty miles farther South,
+where--as of course you know--the Carlisle-bound trains stop. I got
+in at midnight--the time most favourable--as a troop-train of dingy
+second-class carriages and the usual string of cattle-trucks lumbered
+in.
+
+"Troops were entraining, the --th Lowland Territorials, bound for
+Havre, Marseilles and the East. In the seething turmoil of my mind,
+some vague idea of enlisting as a ranker had been uppermost. I
+dismissed it as I sat waiting for the next Carlisle-bound train.
+
+"My twenty-mile tramp to the Junction had cleared away the
+brainstorm. I realised that I had acted without reflection, like a
+savage, or a child. Stuffing away the khaki husk of Edward Yaill in
+a red-hot hurry,--changing into the old tweeds, and launching back
+into the world as an unobtrusive civilian, was, in a country in a
+state of War, and under Martial Law, about the crudest and riskiest
+mode of escape I could have chosen.
+
+"But I got to London safely without being asked for papers, and slept
+at a coffee-house in the King's Cross Road. Next day, quite early, I
+saw Sir Arthur Ely, told him my plans (which he did not approve of),
+left in his care my keys and private papers; and by an ante-dated
+cheque which he passed through his bankers--obtained sufficient ready
+cash to carry on for a couple of years.
+
+"And then I telegraphed in Code to a man I loved and honoured. You
+know him. He showed me much friendship when I was in the East. He
+wired back, appointing a place and an hour. The straight, piercing
+look of his full eyes under their thick lids--the grip of his hand,
+and the sound of his deep voice, rolled back the years--they always
+did--and made me a boy again. For I was little more when, eighteen
+years ago, I brought a despatch from my Colonel to his Headquarters
+at Fort Atbara. I was a lieutenant on his Staff when from the
+hill-top behind Kerreri--he--the Sirdar--swept Omdurman with his
+binoculars. A mud-walled Mohammedan city--I have been back there
+since I left you, Katharine!--with a great host of white-robed
+Darweeshes in battle-array before it--and the whitewashed dome of the
+Mahdi's tomb all gleaming in the sun.
+
+"He is dead--and in him England has lost much more than a great War
+Minister. She has lost her truest friend. He heard my story out and
+believed me,--even as you believed, my true love! He was ready to
+help, upon condition that I followed up definite lines....
+
+"Arab co-operation being essential for the crushing of the Red
+Crescent, and the liberation of Northern Palestine and Syria--a door
+lay open towards the East for a man such as I was--such as I am! who
+does not greatly fear peril, having no great use for existence. To
+whom hardship signifies little, comfort and pleasure not being for
+him. Who welcomes loneliness because denied the one companion with
+whom life would be Life indeed.
+
+"So I got my Mission from my Chief of old,--he being willing that my
+six months of Home leave, and the indefinite period of Home duty
+destined to follow it,--should be merged, for an equally indefinite
+period, in a Mission connected with the Secret Intelligence Service
+of Great Britain in the East. Now you know why I was sitting in the
+audience-hall of the Governor of Akaba when I saw that torn fragment
+of the Turkish news-sheet lying, and picked it up and read, for the
+second time, your message to me.
+
+"Twice then I have seen your message, and once I have seen You. You
+were driving a Red Cross Daimler car, full of Hospital convalescents,
+six weeks ago near the ruins of Canopus, by Aboukir. I was not an
+Arab of the Hejaz on that never-to-be-forgotten morning. Perhaps I
+was that coffee-coloured Copt--in the blue cotton _galabiyeh_ of the
+Egyptian Labour Corps--squatting on a sandheap near a gang of others
+busy at excavation.... Or I may have been the Australian Dinkum who
+leaned against a Ptolemaic pillar smoking a cigarette.... You
+remember that his felt hat was slouched so as to hide his eyes!
+
+"I do not smile, though I write cheerfully. Imagine what it would
+feel like to have a farrier thrust his steel pincers into your breast
+and twist your live heart round? Well, that is what I felt that day
+when I saw you at Aboukir. And yet I did not yield to the desire to
+speak to you--or try to see you, or communicate with you in any way.
+For to do that might have balked me of reaching my end,--prevented me
+from doing what I am more than ever bent on.... Had not Hazel
+recognised me that day near Sheria, I swear to you I would have
+resisted--until the finish. Perhaps I have drunk in a belief in
+Destiny from the Arabs. But I feel that man John Hazel is linked up
+with my Fate!
+
+"So I write: and this will be conveyed to him through the officer
+representing --th Division, British Secret Intelligence, who firmly
+believed me,--until I disillusioned him--to be the Emir Fadl Anga, a
+pigeon-fancying petty Arab chief of the tag-rag-and-bob-tail of the
+Sherif of Mecca. Fortunately for my peace of mind! For the time is
+ripe.... I have traced a leakage of information from Headquarters in
+Egypt to its source in a native officer who holds the confidence of
+the British Government--and now move to the centre where the spy's
+activities are manifested. On the completeness of disguise--not only
+the garb of the outer man,--and the technical proprieties of speech
+and bearing--but the mentality distinguishing an Arab nomad from a
+city-inhabiting European--hang the two issues:--that a traitor should
+meet the fate he richly merits,--and that out of the barren desert of
+my life I may gather a joy for Katharine.
+
+"For Julian is alive!--sweet friend, lost sweetheart! He sends you
+the Rosary that comes with this. He has been shifted four times
+since the Turks took him prisoner on the Scimitar. From Gallipoli to
+a War Hospital staffed by German surgeons, and Bulgarian and German
+nurses of the Red Crescent, at Constantinople. From Hospital to a
+filthy Prison Camp near Smyrna. From Smyrna to Belemeki, a small and
+even filthier station in the Taurus Mountains--the headquarters for
+labour-gangs of prisoners working on the uncompleted tunnels of the
+Adana and Constantinople rail. From thence to Beersheba and Shechem.
+He is now at Shechem. In such misery and under such privations that
+to describe them would harrow you uselessly.... I do not mean to
+try.... But this you may know: that the starved and vermin-ridden
+mob of tatterdemalions,--British Yeomanry, Regulars, Australians,
+Indians, Jews, Frenchmen and Roumanians--who swelter and starve and
+toil at Shechem under the loaded Turkish hide-whips would be in
+infinitely worse case, but for the self-effacing tenderness of the
+priest whom even the Turkish guards have learned to respect. Recent
+negotiations between the Allied Governments and the Porte have
+brought about a movement towards the release or exchange of many of
+these prisoners.... But for some reason,--the name of Father Julian
+Forbis has been omitted from the official lists of those selected for
+exchange. His physical sufferings, I have learned, would have been
+lessened if he would have consented to be removed from the mud
+barrack-prison, and quartered in the huts of the Wired Enclosure east
+of the town with the officers,--who receive less villainous
+treatment--and are more decently housed than the men.... It was like
+the Julian whom we know, not to desert his charges; knowing his
+presence to be some check upon the inhumanity of Turkish officials,
+and the brutality of Turkish guards. Pray for your living brother,
+my beloved,--for it may be God will hear you! and for me who am no
+better than dead though living,--being cut off hopelessly from
+you.... If in dreams I kiss your eyes, and your sweet mouth,--and
+the soft little place under your chin, you cannot be angry.... For I
+have nothing left on earth but my one hope of rescuing Julian, and my
+dreams!--and they come every night, Katharine!--such
+cruelly-sweet,--vivid dreams of you and you, and You.... E.A.Y."
+
+
+There was a postscript above a rough ink outline that suggested
+something familiar to Katharine:
+
+
+"I picked the flower I enclose with the Rosary a day or so back at
+your Tower of Kir Saba, little thinking how soon I should be sending
+it to you! The Turks holding Jaffa have fortified the Tower on the
+E. and S.:--fixed an aërial for Wireless on the top of it--driven
+their trenches through the gardens and vineyards--cut down the
+olive-groves covering the hillside N,--and used the vaults as dumps
+for the storage of cartridges, H.E. shell, bombs and
+hand-grenades.... There is something of Kerr's Arbour about the
+place, despite the second, smaller Tower to the W, the round bastion
+at the middle of the eastward wall, and the absence of the buildings
+later reared against the keep.... So there, my Katharine, stands
+your ancient heritage, its feet deep in blossoming asphodel, and
+tapestries of grape-vines--now laden with ripe fruit--draping its
+Time-worn stone...."
+
+
+The withered flower the envelope had contained was the snapped-off
+top of a slender green stem, bearing white blossoms in branching
+clusters; lily-shaped, and exhaling a delicate fragrance, recalling
+the scent of freesia to Katharine.
+
+The Rosary was a hempen string, with brown-black shiny seeds of the
+oval type of _canna Indica_, arranged in the familiar decades--with
+black lupin-beans for Paternosters--ending in a Crucifix rudely
+hacked from palm-wood--fruit of hours of secret labour with the
+prisoner's pocket-knife....
+
+Katharine knew that Julian must have blessed it, before sending it to
+Edward. Thenceforth in daily prayers to the Mother of Consolation,
+for her dear ones living and dead, she would use instead of her own
+Rosary this:--made even more sacred by the sorrow of the sender and
+the maker's martyrdom.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+In search of Lady Wastwood, temporarily busy in that Department,
+Katharine later on betook herself to the cool and pleasant quarters
+on the Palace second floor, devoted to Secretarial Work and Accounts.
+
+"Be good enough to explain why you cut the Staff lunch to-day?" Miss
+Forbis said with severity, as Trixie's white triangular face and
+bright green eyes came out of a big parchment ledger to smile a tired
+welcome at her friend.
+
+"Because of the food!" said Lady Wastwood briefly.
+
+"The food is ripping!" pronounced Miss Forbis.
+
+"I admit that! It's seeing you other people eat it that I mind!"
+
+"So you avoid meals, and live on eggs and coffee, and fresh dates,
+and figs and bananas and grapes and custard-apples. You'll be in for
+Gippy Tummy if you don't take care!"
+
+"Precious Person, I will take care. But fruit is so simply gorgeous
+here!--and it reminds me of Old Diplomatic Service days at
+Constantinople and Calcutta, when I and Wastwood used to eat figs and
+mangoes and fresh-picked oranges one against the other, for bets in
+gloves. And neither of us died--though I suppose we ought to have.
+Don't go, my dinkie! I'm nearly done!"
+
+And Trixie, coming out of the big ledger with a sheaf of pencilled
+extracts, arranged a huge sheet of foolscap on the blotter and began
+to write, while Katharine waited, looking out of the window across
+the lawns and the elaborately-cultivated shrubberies to the line
+where the blue sea,--traversed by innumerable Allied steamers,--and
+the bluer sky, threaded by French and British aircraft--met and
+mingled beyond a wide expanse of light brown sand-dunes, and a belt
+of casuarina-trees, and tall, waving palms:
+
+
+"Report On The Working of the Red Cross Motor-Ambulance and Cars For
+the Month of October, 1917.
+
+"During October our 11 Cars used for General Administrative Work and
+for the Conveyance of Convalescents, ran 9576 miles on 636 gallons of
+petrol, making an average of 15.05 miles to the gallon.
+
+"159 Convalescent Patients were taken out for Drives, and nearly all
+of them given tea at the Nouzah Gardens--"
+
+
+"I wonder," Katharine began, after watching the long thin hand move
+over the paper for a minute or so, "whether you ought to be doing
+that?"
+
+Lady Wastwood's incredibly arched, impossibly-black eyebrows moved
+nearer her green-golden hair.
+
+"Because my heart goes biff after a ducking, I resolutely decline to
+be treated as an invalid. Isn't it bad enough to know that another
+woman is doing my work of organisation at the Convalescent Officers'
+Hostel at El Naza--and doing it on rottenly unimaginative lines! A
+woman more than a dozen years younger,--who learned from me in the
+days of flapperdom how to camouflage a shiny nose? No, you mustn't
+try to take my work from me. It helps me to forget my unrealised
+visions of green lawns of rabbia shaded with palms and dotted with
+snow white sleeping tents, and golden haired English nurses in pale
+blue linen overalls, ministering to hundreds of weary War-worn men."
+
+"But the nurses mightn't all have been golden-haired," objected
+Katharine.
+
+"Peroxide," said Lady Wastwood, brainily, "is fairly cheap in Egypt.
+And I know a Contractor who would have supplied it in seven gallon
+glass jars." Her small triangular face regained its old vivacity,
+and her green eyes their brilliancy as she pursued: "Then, I meant,
+to have a restaurant built far out on the sea shore, where the surf
+ran up under the tables as the patients sat at lunch, or tea.
+Rowing, riding and fishing, camel-rides and picnics would have been
+part of the treatment under my _régime_. And now--" Trixie's voice
+wobbled a little and she cautiously dabbed with a minute lawn
+handkerchief at the corners of her bright green eyes--"when I think
+of all those Convalescent Officers and what they have lost through
+Me, I get pippy. To have pulled the thing through and made a success
+of it would have got back my credit with Wastwood and the boys."
+
+"My dear!" Katharine began, and hesitated: "You don't believe
+_really_--"
+
+Trixie dabbed her eyes again,--and dabbed her nose as an
+afterthought, and resolutely put away the handkerchief.
+
+"I don't quite think Wastwood--my husband--would judge me hardly. He
+took me three times round the world with him, and though I was a
+jelly of terror all the time at sea, I somehow managed to camouflage
+my cowardice. It's only when I remember how I groused on that ship
+that I imagine I can hear my Jerry saying to his brother: 'Old Man, I
+don't half like to say it, but the Mums is rather letting us down ...
+What?' And Wastwood--"
+
+"If Wastwood or Jerry said anything so unjust," Katharine broke out,
+"they ought to--to be thoroughly well spanked--both of them!" She
+went on as Trixie reluctantly yielded to laughter, "I don't know
+whether you've found it out yet,--but Nurse-Superintendent Bulleyne
+is in charge of No. 2 Ground Floor Ward at the Harem. And she has
+told Lady Donnithorpe and every one else here how--when the
+Incendiary Bomb from the Zeppelin dropped through the roof of No.
+100, West Central Square--where you used to have your Red Cross Work
+Rooms,--and killed two poor orderlies, and dear Alicia
+Macintosh!--you went into action with sand-boxes and water-buckets,
+and fire-extinguishers,--and saved the place from being burned out!
+..."
+
+"That was nothing to brag about," declared Trixie. "Things that go
+off with a bang and a piff never much frighten me, and anyone with an
+iota of sense knows what to do in a fire. But shipwreck"--she
+shuddered "and drowning--"
+
+Katharine saw the look on the white triangular face, and came to
+Trixie's side protectingly. Ever since the sinking of the Hospital
+Transport _Loyalty_, the terrible experience had been renewed in Lady
+Wastwood's nightly dreams. She looked frailer and more startlingly
+attenuated than ever, as she sat among the ledgers heading a fresh
+sheet of foolscap:
+
+
+ MONTANA WAR LIBRARY--AUGUST, 1917
+
+ Requisitions received ........................... 288
+ Hospitals, Depôts, etc., supplied ............... 73
+ Bound books ..................................... 1,000
+ Papers .......................................... 1,190
+
+ _Lent to Patients, Montana, and Auxiliary Canvas
+ Convalescent Camps, Boulboul and Osra_
+
+ Magazines ....................................... 1,866
+ Penny Stories ................................... 647
+ Periodicals ..................................... 8,904
+ Bridge, Whist and Poker ......................... 10,966
+ Blighties ....................................... 19,230
+ French and Italian Books ........................ 30
+ Political Economy, Works on ..................... 1
+ Poetry .......................................... 4
+ Classics ........................................ 0
+
+ GIFTS OF BOOKS FOR THE MONTH
+
+ _The Kiss That Changed The World_--By Massy
+ B. M'Dudgeon ............................. 1 copy
+
+ _Pond and Pink Powder_--By Gertie Stumps ... 1 copy
+
+ _Sermons For War Time_--By the Bishop of
+ Bayswater ............................. 100 copies
+
+
+"Come now, you really have done enough. Stop at the Bishop."
+
+"I wish he would pay the freightage on his stupid sermons. Forty
+piastres to pay on the parcel. And he expects to be thanked for it.
+Well, I'll knock off if you'll come and laze with me for a bit in the
+garden.... Do I shine? I feel like it!"
+
+Trixie gathered up her long thin limbs, stood up and produced a
+vanity-case.
+
+"Here and there.... But every one does.... I'm beginning to get
+used to it. No! I'm not coming to smoke your new Macedonian
+cigarettes, and have iced-tea with lemon in the garden this
+afternoon. You are coming to tea with me, in the house of a great
+friend of mine."
+
+"Who is your friend?" asked Trixie, intent on the little circular
+mirror.
+
+"A Jew."
+
+"I rather like Jews. Where does your friend live?"
+
+"Numero VII., Rue el Farad, Alexandria. His house," Katharine went
+on, quoting John Hazel, "is one of the few relics extant of the
+ancient city, a wonderfully-preserved example of the Roman-Egyptian
+Domestic Style."
+
+"'I guess I shall admire to come,' as that American Nursing-Sister
+said when you asked her to drive to the Antoniadis Gardens. And is
+your friend like his house--a wonderfully preserved example of the
+ancient what-do-you-call-it style?"
+
+Katharine answered promptly and warmly:
+
+"He certainly is a wonderfully-preserved example of unspoiled Faith,
+and unstained Honour, and old-world Loyalty."
+
+"How nice!" said Lady Wastwood, sweetly. But she said to herself: "I
+would never have believed it--Kathy Forbis being Kathy Forbis.
+But--if she is able to forget poor Edward Yaill, even for a
+wonderfully-preserved example of all the old-world virtues, with
+shiny jet-black curls and a curly profile--it would be--for her, poor
+girl--rather a good thing."
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+He was not in the waiting car before the guarded entrance to the
+Hospital, as Katharine and Lady Wastwood gave the pass to the sentry,
+and stepped forth upon the dusty metalled road.
+
+The car proved a large, white-enamelled Clement-Talbot of some 22
+h.p., luxuriously appointed and finished exquisitely as a gun. The
+chauffeur was a mahogany-skinned, almond-eyed Egyptian, in a crimson
+felt _tarbûsh_ and snow-white silver-braided native livery. The
+attendant, a grave, middle-aged man, with long curling side-locks and
+olive aquiline features,--who stood by the car door, imperturbably
+waiting the arrival of the ladies, wore the plain black _kaftan_ and
+high black felt cap distinctive of many middle-class Jews in the East.
+
+The machine ran like oil along the seventeen miles of dusty metalled
+roads lying between the green foliage and verdure of Montana and the
+great fortified Egyptian seaport,--in its environs of palm-groves and
+fig-gardens, tennis-lawns and golf-grounds; its streets (roaring with
+motor-lorries; grid-ironed with tram-lines; rattling with
+hack-_gharis_ and _arabâyis_ full of English, French or Italians,
+their drivers kept from running people over by the red-fezzed
+mahogany-hued Military Police)--traversed by swinging processions of
+laden camels, strings of tiny overladen donkeys, Arab hawkers,
+stately veiled women with clashing silver anklets, Anglo-Egyptian
+ladies in last season's Paris fashions; soldiers of the Egyptian
+Army, sherbet and sweetmeat and coffee-sellers; gangs of
+blue-uniformed Turkish prisoners; working-parties of the
+indefatigable little men of the Egyptian Labour Corps; portly native
+stockbrokers or merchants in the red _tarbûsh_ and single-breasted
+blue frock-coat; _saisis_, vendors of antiques made yesterday, Dagoes
+and Bedwân chiefs; verminous and crazy beggars; impish native youths
+and urchins pressing copies of the _Alexandrian Post_, and the
+_Egyptian Mail_, _John Bull_, _La Bourse_, the _Messagéro_, the
+_Sydney Bulletin_ and the _Palestine Gazette_, upon tall Australians
+in slouched felt hats, New Zealanders in red-banded smashers, lean,
+bearded Indian Lancers, little Ghurka Riflemen, and newly-arrived
+Tommies with comparatively pink-and-white faces; respectfully lavish
+of drinks and sticky native sweetmeats to veterans bronzed to the
+colour of their own khaki by the suns and dust-winds of the Desert
+and Palestine....
+
+A huge, endless, living screen-picture, various and polyglot, backed
+and reinforced by an infinite variety of smells.... Colours of all
+imaginable hues; scents and reeks, stinks and fragrances. The hiss
+and purr, the nasal whine of Oriental tongues, mingled with the
+Western click and rattle, and the clang and ring of the dominating
+North.... Pierced by the all-pervading yell, for backsheesh,
+Backsheesh, BACKSHEESH!--the never-ceasing slogan of the dominated
+East.
+
+Beyond the crossing where the Road of the Rosetta Gate debouches into
+the Rue Sherif Pasha,--whither Trixie's inward being yearned because
+of the cream-puffs, pink-melon ices, and Persian tea to be had at
+Groppi's Restaurant,--the big white car swirled into the Rue el
+Farad, past the beautiful tree-adorned and well-kept grounds of the
+Armenian Church and School.
+
+The thoroughfare occupies the ancient site of the Street of the Four
+Winds, south of where used to be the quadruple marble gate, the
+Tetrapylon, turning off the ancient Street of the Moon. No asphalte
+was here, but pavement of huge blocks of ancient flagstone, not all
+cemented together, on which the traffic of the city, the
+motor-lorries, hack-_gharis_, country-carts and trains of laden
+small-hoofed donkeys, made an atrocious sound.... Tall palms,
+overtopping the roofs of the houses set at intervals on either side
+of the thoroughfare, spoke of garden-grounds behind them.... Here
+and there, built into a courtyard-wall, some chipped and broken
+column, or capital of Græco-Roman carving, some incised stele of
+yellowish limestone-marble, black basalt or the red granite of
+Assouan, incised with ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics, or the symbols
+of the Sun, and Moon Mother, spoke to the remoteness of the city's
+antiquity....
+
+Midway of a courtyard-wall, forbiddingly high and thickly
+whitewashed, before a high closed portico having a deep square
+depression on the right-hand as though a sculptured slab or plaque
+had been removed from beside the entrance, the Clement-Talbot
+stopped. The heavy, green-painted door bore, in its central
+compartment of white, red Hebrew lettering instead of an Arabic
+inscription; the Roman numerals VII. were on a small brass plate
+above the heavy metal ring surmounting the huge clumsy lock, a lock
+straight out of _The Arabian Nights_....
+
+The grave attendant got down and opened the car. Alighting,
+Katharine and her companion passed in, over a square of ancient
+mosaic, representing a black dog spotted with white, secured by a
+chain attached to a scarlet collar, and displaying a formidable
+mouthful of teeth.
+
+The vestibule guarded by the mosaic dog was of yellowish Numidian
+marble, yet stained a faded red in places, and showing traces of
+having been divided into panels by a slender incised ornament, partly
+obliterated, but recognisable as a black caduceus wreathed with a
+black vine.
+
+And the vestibule guarded by the mosaic dog was long rather than
+wide, and ventilated by horizontal apertures below the roof, filled
+in with metal lattice-work. Through a similar but larger opening
+overhead poured the golden sunshine of the November noonday,--making
+a thick black strip of shadow beneath the long wooden bench that ran
+along the right-hand wall. The air of the place was cool and
+sweet,--in spite of an array of native shoes,--of all grades and
+descriptions from jaunty red morocco with pointed turned-up toes, and
+heels with sharp rims of brass or steel for the killing of snakes and
+scorpions,--to venerable footgear of soiled buff or yellow
+leather,--and the clumsy hide sandals commonly worn by
+peasants,--ranged along the left-hand wall. Even as she observed the
+rows of shoes, Katharine's keen ears were greeted by a curious
+deep-toned humming--as though innumerable, invisible bees, of
+Brobdingnagian proportions--were gathering honey from conjectural
+flowers in the near neighbourhood....
+
+The negro porter who had opened the door, a huge Ethiopian of ebony
+blackness, dressed and turbaned in snow-white linen, salaamed deeply
+to the ladies; displaying as he did so a mouthful of teeth as
+dazzling in whiteness and sharply-pointed as those of the mosaic dog.
+
+Then the negro shut the heavy door and locked and bolted it. They
+heard the car snort and move away as the metal bolts scrooped in
+their ancient grooves of stone. But, as they glanced back, towards
+the entrance, the imperturbable attendant in the black _kaftan_ waved
+them forward to where another man, exactly like himself in feature,
+colouring and costume, waited as imperturbably on the threshold of a
+larger hall beyond. On its right-hand doorpost was affixed a
+cylinder of metal _repoussée_, with an oval piece of glass
+inset--something like a human eye. And the big invisible bees went
+on humming as industriously and as sleepily as ever:
+
+"_Bz'zz'z! .... Bzz'z! ... Bzz m' m'm! ..._"
+
+Perhaps it was the bees' thick, sleepy droning that made Miss Forbis
+feel as though she had previously visited this house in a dream, in
+which,--though the mosaic dog had certainly figured, together with a
+negro who had opened doors,--the rows of shoes along the wall, the
+figure of Trixie at her side--the two dark, ultra-respectable men in
+black _tarbûshes_ and _kaftans_ had had no place or part. Only John
+Hazel had bulked big.... He was there,--beyond the grave Semitic
+face of the second Jewish secretary--on the farther side of the
+torrent of boiling amber sunshine pouring through a central opening
+in the roof of the inner hall that succeeded the vestibule of the
+mosaic Cerberus. An atrium some forty feet in length, paved with
+squares of black and yellow marble, with an oblong pool in the midst
+of it--upon whose still, crystal surface pink and crimson petals of
+roses had been strewn in patterns,--and in the centre of which a
+triple-jetted fountain played....
+
+"_Bzz' zz m'm! ..._"
+
+The humming of the unseen bees came louder than ever, from a doorway
+in the wall upon Katharine's right hand.... A wall of black polished
+marble, decorated with an inlaid ornament in porphyry of yellow and
+red and pale green. The curtain of dyed and threaded reeds did not
+hide what lay beyond the doorway. You saw a long, high-pitched,
+whitewashed room, cooled by big wooden electric fans working under
+the ceiling, and traversed by avenues of creamy-white Chinese
+matting, running between rows of low native desks; before each of
+which squatted--on naked or cotton-sock-covered heels, or sat
+cross-legged upon a square native chintz cushion, a coffee-coloured,
+almond-eyed young Copt, in a black or blue cotton nightgown, topped
+with the _tarbûsh_ of black felt or a dingy-white or olive-brown
+muslin turban; murmuring softly to himself as he made entries, from
+right to left, in a huge limp-covered ledger, or deftly fingered the
+balls of coloured clay strung on the wires of the abacus at his side.
+
+"Oh! ... Wonderful! I'm so glad you brought me!"
+
+Lady Wastwood's emphatic exclamation of pleasure in her surroundings
+brought cessation in the humming,--caused a swivelling of capped or
+turbaned heads all down the length of three avenues,--evoked a
+simultaneous flash of black Oriental eyes, and white teeth in dusky
+faces lifted or turned.... Then at the upper end of the long
+counting-house, where three wide glassless windows looked on a sanded
+palm-garden (and the leather-topped knee-hole tables, roll-top desks,
+copying ink presses, mahogany revolving-chairs, telephone
+installations, willow-paper baskets, pewter inkstands and Post Office
+Directories suggested Cornhill and Cheapside rather than the
+Orient)--one of the olive-faced Jewish head-clerks in _kaftans_ and
+side-curls coughed,--and as though he had pulled a string controlling
+all the observant faces,--every tooth was hidden and every eye
+discreetly bent on the big limp ledgers again....
+
+All the Coptic bees were humming sonorously in unison as Katharine
+went forward to a lofty doorway, framing brightness, where waited to
+receive her the master of the hive....
+
+The light being behind him may have exaggerated his proportions, but
+he seemed to Trixie the biggest man she had ever seen, and nearly the
+ugliest. Close-curling coarse black hair capped his high-domed
+skull; and his stern, powerful, swarthy face, big-nosed and
+long-chinned,--with a humorous quirk at the corners of the
+heavy-lipped mouth that redeemed its sensuousness--was lighted by
+eyes of the intensest black, burning under heavy beetle-brows. His
+khaki uniform, though of fine material and admirable cut, was that of
+a common ranker, and a narrow strip of colours over the heart, and
+the fact of his left arm being bandaged and slung,--intimated to Lady
+Wastwood that Katharine's Jewish friend had already served with some
+degree of distinction,--and had been wounded in the War.
+
+As he advanced to Miss Forbis, plainly unconscious of any presence
+save hers, Trixie's observant green eyes saw him bend his towering
+head, and sweep his right arm out and down, with slow Oriental
+stateliness, bringing back the supple hand to touch breast, lips and
+brow. Whether or not he had raised the hem of Katharine's skirt to
+his lips and kissed it, Lady Wastwood could not definitely determine.
+She was left with the impression that he had done this thing.
+And--as he rose up from the deep obeisance, there sounded in her ears
+these words of salutation spoken in English by a deep voice, with the
+timbre and volume of an Arab war-drum:
+
+"_Hail! Lady of the noble house of Philoremus Fabius. Be welcome to
+this dwelling, the cradle of your race. Mine to-day as my
+forefathers' through bygone centuries, since your footstep crossed
+the threshold, we are stewards, and you are Queen!_"
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+He might have been quoting from some classical play, it occurred to
+Trixie,--perhaps he was an actor, this colossal khaki man.... Though
+Katharine had certainly said that he had offices and warehouses in
+the city. That was his counting-house, that populous hall, where
+rows and rows of Coptic clerks did sums in huge ledgers. And
+Katharine was presenting him as "Mr. John Hazel." And he was saying
+to Lady Wastwood, the usual civil nothings, in the voice that had the
+resonance of a Somali war-gong, the deep vibration of a Dervish
+battle-drum--and the clipped accent of the ordinary middle-class
+Londoner.
+
+"Frightfully glad to meet you.... Miss Forbis said she'd bring
+you.... Won't you come inside? This is my room!"
+
+"What a room!"
+
+The exclamation came from Lady Wastwood, but the room's owner looked
+at Katharine. The stamp of her approval was evidently required.
+
+"_You_ like it? ..."
+
+Katharine answered, with a long-drawn breath, in utter sincerity:
+
+"--Much more than like it! It is--perfectly wonderful!"
+
+It had probably once served as the triclinium of this ancient Roman
+house. Of spacious width, it might have been some sixty feet in
+length, and twenty feet from the mosaic floor to the frescoed
+ceiling, representing a sky of intense blue, with stars of rusty
+gold. Framed, the blue starry sky, in a square of trellised roses,
+their hues faded and dimmed by the passage of centuries, the
+yellowish marble showing in patches through the gesso groundwork--as
+through that of the deep frieze below the Attic cornice,--painted by
+some ancient master in the noon of Alexandria's heyday,--and
+representing in hues still fresh and brilliant the Battles of the
+Greeks and Amazons.
+
+Below the frieze an ebony shelf supported a collection of Oriental
+pottery and porcelain, interspersed with antique vases and statuettes
+in ivory and bronze. Down one side of the long room were
+glass-doored book-cases, built in recesses,--and cabinets stored with
+objects of beauty and rarity. A wide divan strewn with silken
+cushions and covered with brocade of Damascus, ran along the opposite
+side and under the window at the upper end,--where the floor--raised
+some eight inches, made a kind of daïs, upon which Persian carpets of
+beauty and evident value were laid....
+
+The window, glassless, and closed at need, with delicately-carved
+wooden lattices, ran across the upper end of the room, nearly from
+wall to wall. Where the window ended, a door between twisted pillars
+of red and green serpentine--such as were set between the frames of
+the window-lattices--led to an open loggia, supported by slender
+columns. From the window and through the door--across the cool blue
+belt of shadow made by the fluted tiled roof of the loggia--were the
+green lawns and springing fountains, the groves and alleys and
+shrubberies of a well-kept and spacious garden; over whose
+fruit-burdened vines and fig-trees hosts of finches and orioles and
+fig-birds kept up a perpetual chirping and twittering.
+
+It was restful and cool in the wide, lofty room,--would have been so
+had no wooden fans, driven by electric power--kept the air in
+continual movement underneath the frescoed ceiling. The heavy door
+at the hall-end being shut, the hum of the busy Coptic bees of Hazaël
+& Co.'s counting-house could not penetrate, where after months of
+keen anticipation John Hazel welcomed his liege lady, with outward
+stolidity and grave, rather clumsy politeness--masking the shy
+rapture--say, of an Eton Fourth Form boy doing the honours of his
+study to the prettiest sister of his chum.
+
+"Now, where'll you perch?" he said to Lady Wastwood, after carefully
+installing Miss Forbis in the divan's right-hand window-corner. He
+was hospitable in the extreme, Trixie decided, and any thing but
+well-bred. How odd that such a man should possess sufficient insight
+and discrimination to admire Katharine as profoundly as John Hazel
+evidently did....
+
+"By the way, Mr. Hazel," Katharine's fresh voice called to him, as he
+found a suitable resting-place for Lady Wastwood--and Trixie's
+observant green eyes saw him jump, and flush under his mahogany hide;
+"I've seen your name starred in to-day's paper.
+'Commander-in-Chief's Despatches retelegraphed from Whitehall.
+Recommended for the Military Medal, Acting Company Sergeant John Benn
+Hazel--448th City of London (Fenchurch Street) Royal Fusiliers.
+Extraordinary valour displayed at Sheria.... Twelve Turks
+bayonetted, one after another....' Congratulations with all my
+heart!"
+
+Her long arm swept out to John, and he took the hand, reddening, and
+promptly returned it, stammering: "Awfully obliged for what you
+say!--but as regards the M.M. there's no accounting for the way they
+have of ladling out these tin-and-gilt things. Mean well and one's
+obliged, but the men who earn 'em never get 'em!" He smote his giant
+palms together, evoking a terrific detonation. "Sorry if I made you
+jump." Nervous Trixie had done so. "But this is how we do in the
+East when we want 'em to bring tea!"
+
+Two blue-shirted, white-gowned Egyptian boys and a bulky middle-aged
+negress, black as coal; with a high silk turban of rainbow hues, a
+skirted yellow over-robe, full striped trousers of orange and green,
+and clashing rows of bangles, responded to the summons, setting heavy
+silver trays, laden with good things, many and various, on inlaid
+ebony stool-tables before their master's guests.... The arrival of
+the trays heralded the entrance of an elderly lady, sad-faced,
+olive-skinned, black-eyed and white-haired, attired in an
+old-fashioned grey silk gown. As "My Aunt Esther," their big host
+referred to this lady, presenting her--against all the rules of
+precedence, first to Miss Forbis and inversely introducing Lady
+Wastwood.... With whom the sad-faced elderly lady shook hands
+cordially, though she had curtseyed ceremoniously and profoundly as
+she had taken the hand held out by to her by Katharine....
+
+The tea poured out by the sad little grey lady, was Persian, and far
+superior to Groppi's, in Trixie's opinion,--as were the cream-tarts
+and pistachio-nut, and date-cakes,--the delicate Egyptian rolls and
+creamy curls of butter, the pink-melon ices and sherbet of fresh
+limes, and newly-gathered grapes, figs and oranges.... Indifferent
+to the possible result of an attack of Gippy Tummy, Trixie enjoyed
+herself, listening with amused interest to Mrs. Hazaël's gentle
+chatter, as the little lady's thin hands, loaded with magnificent
+rubies and emeralds, darted about amongst the cups....
+
+In fluent English, spoken with a strong French accent,--both
+languages having been acquired in her girlhood, she explained--at a
+Maltese Convent boarding-school, where she had spent eight
+years,--she entertained her guest with arid recollections of the
+Early Eighties, mingled with more welcome details of the cost of
+housekeeping in the East.
+
+It appeared that the negress,--whose name was Fatmeh, and who came
+from Upper Nubia,--was responsible for the making of the cream-tarts
+and the date-and-pistachio cakes.... But the crowning culinary
+achievement of Fatmeh was _kunaféh_, which could not be properly
+offered with tea, being a dinner-dish; made of sesame-flour,
+clarified butter and honey, with eggs and raisins, and fried in a
+pan.... If Miladi would honour the house by coming to dinner, the
+hostess added, the _kunaféh_ should be forthcoming, made and fried in
+Fatmeh's finest style....
+
+"You are quite too infinitely kind, Madame," Trixie responded, and as
+she abominated pancakes, the description of _kunaféh_ left her
+chilly. "But though to dine with you would give me the greatest
+pleasure,--my acceptance of the invitation must naturally depend on
+the engagements of Her Majesty over there...."
+
+And the Commandant's smiling nod indicated Miss Forbis, seated in the
+divan's opposite corner, drinking Persian tea out of exquisite
+porcelain, and revelling in the beauty of the gardens,--where palms
+tasselled with golden fruit, and laden fig-trees on spreading
+trellises, and sycamores draped with grapevines heavy with purple
+clusters, made islands of shadow and fruitful luxuriance,--while
+shrubberies of myrtle and rose and oleander invited the footsteps of
+stranger and _habitué_ to explore the winding pathways that threaded
+them--under the hot blue sky of the November noon....
+
+"You call her Queen? ..." The lustrous dark eyes of the white-haired
+lady studied the fine face, and dwelt on the superb lines of the
+gracious womanly figure for an instant before she said: "And you are
+right! _C'est une physionomie très noble!_ I have seen Queens and
+Empresses in Europe--and here in Asia, who would have looked like
+peasants beside her! ... As for the arrangement of the date--that is
+not for me to make--or for my nephew. It is she who gives orders--in
+this house!"
+
+"But I thought that like myself, Miss Forbis was a stranger! I
+understood from her," said Trixie munching her third cream-cake,
+"that though Mr. Hazel is a great friend and pal of hers in England,
+she has never visited this house before."
+
+The reply was given with Eastern dignity:
+
+"When I, who am fifty-eight, was a child, her father came to
+Alexandria. My grandfather, who was then living--entertained him as
+a King.... His daughter has never entered the house before,--and the
+house is the house of Hazaël. But the stones of it would call to her
+'Mistress!' if the lips of Hazaël were dumb...."
+
+The sudden fire that had lightened in the soft dark Eastern eyes died
+out of them, and the olive face resumed its sad tranquillity. But
+not before Lady Wastwood had realised a piquant, baffling
+strangeness, in the relations between Kathy Forbis and these
+Alexandrian Jews....
+
+"One has one's own secrets wild horses wouldn't drag from one," was
+her quaint mental comment, "and so, of course, have others. But
+mysteries and Kathy Forbis don't seem to go together. Why--"
+
+Trixie broke off, for at that particular juncture the huge left hand
+of the little Syrian lady's big black nephew was coolly drawn from
+its supporting sling, and stretched towards a dish of fruit upon a
+tray that stood near. And there came to the Commandant's ears the
+full, warm voice of Katharine:
+
+"No, thanks! I learned to distrust green figs the first week I spent
+in Egypt. And--I think you were told yesterday at the Hospital not
+to use that wounded arm! ..."
+
+"You see, I forget," said the big man, very humbly and
+apologetically. "It's only a flesh-cut, and doesn't hurt, as I told
+the Assassin-in-charge. And I'm left-handed--like the Hun who
+slashed me with his sword as he tried to pot me with his revolver.
+Has it been dressed since yesterday? ... Oh, yes, I had to report at
+the General Hospital this morning, and they looked to it all right.
+And I kiboshed the C.M.O. about my living at home. They're fearfully
+crowded for space at the General--and don't want well men blocking
+the wards--luckily for me...."
+
+He laughed, and as he stuffed his bandaged arm back into the sling,
+the gleam of a ring on the third finger of his left hand,--a great
+antique ring in a pale greenish gold setting, attracted Trixie's eye.
+The eye gleamed,--for a similar signet was always worn by Katharine.
+Could it be,--Oh, really!--it couldn't--Couldn't be possible!--that
+Edward Yaill's successor would be this colossal Jew....
+
+"Of course, being a woman myself," Trixie reflected, "I ought to be
+used to women having--even before the War came to effect a fusion
+between the classes--such astonishing, Extraordinary,
+INCOMPREHENSIBLE tastes in men! And naturally, after being engaged
+to Yaill all those years--an officer of the old Conservative
+type,--thoroughbred to the backbone, conversant with Society,
+high-tempered, rather irritable, affectionate, gentle, tinged with
+Celtic melancholy; this man--what is he?--must be a complete change.
+Dressed as a Territorial Tommy, living as an Alexandrian Jew
+merchant, talking in the shibboleth and with the accent of the modern
+City Nut,--the young man of the Theatrical Syndicate and the West End
+Supper Club--dashed with something out of the Book of Kings! Dear
+me! I'd like to shriek with laughter--if I didn't feel nearer
+shedding tears of vexation at the idea of my splendid Kathy caring
+for the kind of person who says to a woman 'Where'll you perch?' when
+he wants her to sit down."
+
+Preoccupied with the absorbing theme, Trixie returned but absent
+replies to Mrs. Hazaël's mild observations; and conversation
+languished between the pair. Until the Commandant's languid
+attention was prodded to wakeful keenness by a chance observation on
+the part of her host's aunt....
+
+"I do not know, Miladi...." This in reply to some reference to the
+wearer of the ring similar to Katharine's. "My nephew John Hazaël
+was educated in England. He has been in business in the City of
+London--he never was in Egypt until he came here with the English
+soldiers, to fight the Turk who has driven us from our homes in
+Palestine!" The sad dark eyes lightened fiercely, the drooping
+figure straightened, the toneless voice vibrated with passion as Mrs.
+Hazaël went on: "Before then I had not seen my brother's son.
+Indeed, knowing him to be _Epikouros_,--I had thought of him but
+little! Imagine what for me it meant to find John Ben Hazaël the
+image of his grandfather! ... For they are alike, Miladi--as citron
+resembles citron,--though the years of one were a hundred, and the
+other is but thirty-five. True, he has not learnt to observe our
+ancient customs, nor has he been reared according to the Law. He is
+blind to the beauty and splendour of the glorious Hebrew religion.
+But even as a myrtle in the midst of the Desert remains a
+myrtle,--John Hazaël, the eldest son of John, the son of Eli Ben
+Hazaël,--will live the life and die the death of a good, believing
+Jew!"
+
+"To know that," Trixie returned, conscious of feeling her way amidst
+unseen pitfalls, "must be a great pleasure to you, Madame...."
+
+"I do not look for pleasure," came the sad-toned answer. "And
+comfort there is none for me, whom the Turk has stripped of all.
+When this terrible War broke out in Palestine, Miladi, I had a
+husband,--and two sons,--and a daughter!"--A convulsion rippled under
+the olive skin of the withered face as the waters of a lonely
+forest-pool will stir on a windless day.... "My son Jacob they took
+first,--to labour with the road-gangs between Sailed and Tiberias....
+My daughter--my Esther, my darling and my treasure--the golden joy of
+her father's heart--"
+
+"Pray, pray, do not tell me!" Lady Wastwood whispered entreatingly,
+for the speaker's dark eyes were bloodshot and her mouth had twisted
+in the involuntary grimace of weeping with difficulty restrained, "I
+can guess something terrible.... Please believe that I deeply feel
+for you!--I who have lost husband and children too! ..."
+
+"'Husband and children! ...' _Achi nebbich!_ ..."
+
+The little grey woman bowed her lace-draped head, and folded her
+jewelled hands in her grey silk lap as she continued:
+
+"But such deaths were those of my loved ones, Miladi, that nothing
+that you could imagine could approach the terror of the truth! Yet
+it might have been worse--oh, infinitely!--had not Jacob possessed
+the courage of a lion. He shot his sister, Miladi, in the room of
+her destroyer,--and turned the pistol on himself and died also! ..."
+There was a clang of pride in the dull tear-soaked voice. "Then
+Reuben Ben Ephraim--who was with Jacob in the den of the hyena--Hamid
+Bey Effendi--Commander of the Turkish soldiers at Nazareth"--there
+followed some rapid guttural words in a tongue unknown to Trixie,
+probably a bitter Hebrew curse upon the hated name.... "then Reuben,
+seeing both dead, escaped by the Mercy, and sent word to us, me and
+my husband--in our house near Jaffa--of what had befallen the
+children of our love! ... And hearing that the vengeance of Hamid was
+to be wreaked upon us, my husband Isaac, the uncle of John Hazaël!
+... may Peace be upon him! as it is our custom to say--Isaac escaped
+to Beirut with our last child, Benjamin. Miladi--the fierce wolves
+seized them. They both died in prison at Beirut--under the Turkish
+rods! ... The young child first, Miladi--under the eyes of his
+father.... Then the father!--Peace be upon them both! ... And the
+shock of the news killed Eli Ben Hazaël, for he was close upon a
+hundred.... Thus am I widow, and childless, and fatherless in this
+house that has sheltered my people for more than sixteen centuries.
+Ah, Miladi!--I have made you weep! ... I have no tears--they were all
+shed long ago!" She rose, a little tragic figure in her
+old-fashioned silk gown, and held out to Trixie a withered, jewelled
+hand. "My nephew is looking at me.... He wishes me to show you the
+garden, while he speaks of business with Mademoiselle Forbis...." A
+slight cry escaped her as her eyes went to the window, and a faint
+gleam of pleasure lightened in their hopelessness as she lifted the
+wasted, glittering hand: "See! O see! Look, Miladi! ... Look, my
+children! ... Once again, the swallows have come! ..."
+
+
+There had been no swallows a moment previously. Summer in the North,
+warmer that year of 1917 than in the three preceding, had delayed
+their autumn journey overseas. Now the deep blue sky above the
+tamarisk and acacia Nilotica,--the vine-draped sycamore figs, the
+tall imperial palm-trees, the orange and lemon groves, and the myrtle
+and rose-thickets behind the house in the Rue el Farad, were crossed
+and recrossed by innumerable downy black-and-white bodies, borne upon
+darting, quivering pinions, and the continuous twitterings of the
+fig-birds were drowned by their shrill squeaks....
+
+From the eaves of the round-tiled roof of the loggia, where some old
+nests were yet remaining, a rope of swallows swayed and dangled;
+clinging one to the tail of another--the weight of the whole rope
+sustained by the first usurper of the disputed nest.... A moment
+more and the feathered rope resolved into its original atoms. They
+rose in a cloud,--squealing, wheeling, hovering and poising, and
+launched themselves in joyous chase of the flies and mosquitoes,
+whose deadliest enemies they are....
+
+And then one of the darting things--possibly a new-fledged
+stranger--keen on the capture of some gauze-winged morsel, flew in at
+the window, and hawked about the room....
+
+The blue sky frescoed on the ceiling by the ancient artist, framed in
+its trellis of dimmed and faded roses, must have deceived the eager
+bird. Its upward flight ended in the tiniest thud possible....
+Vitality quitted its infinitesimal being.... It dropped, a mere puff
+of black and white feathers, at Katharine Forbis's feet....
+
+"Again.... Each year, the same thing happens! A bird is
+killed--just in this way. It is sad, but there's no help for it...."
+sighed Mrs. Hazaël. "Throw it away, dear Mademoiselle, it is only a
+dead bird! ..."
+
+But Mademoiselle, who had picked up the tiny body to cherish and
+croon over, did not follow her hostess's advice. To sense the divine
+quality of maternity inherent in Katharine's beauty, you had to see
+her petting an invalid, or a child. Or as now, with some helpless,
+injured creature,--looking at it under drooped eyelids of soft
+solicitude, cherishing it with compassionate touches of deft, womanly
+hands....
+
+Those kind hands had touched John Hazel, yesterday, in helping the
+Hospital surgeon and Sister with the dressing of his wounded arm....
+It was not until their contact had sent shocks of keen, scarce
+bearable delight thrilling through nerve and tissue, that John Hazel
+had discovered--what you have guessed ere now....
+
+All the night through he had lain awake, living those moments over,
+and over!--cursing himself for a fool thrice soaked in folly, a bally
+idiot, and a presumptuous cad.... But daylight had found him no whit
+more wise, nor one iota less besotted; even more gnawed with
+desperate hunger to feel her cool breath fanning his bared shoulder,
+and know the rapture of her touch again....
+
+Now the soft, compassionate eyes, the tender touch and the sweet
+solicitude were given to a bird, while the man hungered. John Hazel,
+one is compelled to own--was keenly jealous of the stunned
+swallow--as the thorn-like beak opened and shut, and the sealed
+eyelids quivered apart--and Katharine's cry of womanly joy greeted
+these signs of life....
+
+"It isn't dead, dear Madame!" she cried gaily to the Syrian lady, as
+she dipped a finger-tip in a flower-vase that stood near, dropped
+some water in the open beak, and wetted the velvety head.... The
+swallow quivered in her palm, gasped convulsively and swallowed the
+water; swallowed another drop given in the same way, and regaining
+strength, struggled to free itself from the protecting hand....
+
+"Kiss it, Trixie, and give it a message for its little brothers! ...
+Now you shall go, my dear," said Katharine, when, Lady Wastwood
+having dutifully kissed the top of the bird's head, she touched the
+featherless, velvet crown with her own lips. Then, still cherishing
+the struggling bird in her cupped palms, she passed through the door
+at the head of the divan, stepped out upon the loggia, and with a
+sweep of her long arm, sent the captive, squeaking with rapture, to
+rejoin its long-winged comrades in the playgrounds of the air.
+
+"How's that, Umpire?" she called to John Hazel, following with
+attentive eyes the rocket-like upward rush. "It rather sets one
+thinking"--she broke off in the middle of the sentence as John
+stooped beneath the lintel of the doorway, and joined her on the
+loggia.
+
+"Thinking of what?" he asked, for her face was grave and troubled.
+
+"Of prisoners and captives," Katharine answered, "and what they must
+feel when their fetters are broken and their dungeons lie behind
+them, and the free sky is over them and the free earth underfoot....
+Talking of earth, I rather think you promised to show me your garden,
+or if you didn't I should like you to.... Your aunt has spirited
+Lady Wastwood away--" She nodded at Trixie's tall, thin retreating
+shape, upright and workmanlike in its badged, light-weight smasher
+hat and short-skirted khaki cotton-drill uniform; as side by side
+with Mrs. Hazaël's black lace mantilla and old-fashioned trailing
+grey silk gown, it turned the corner of a myrtle-hedge, and was lost
+in the shrubbery. "And I rather want to consult you.... There's a
+seat under that moss-cup oak--it is a moss-cup, isn't it?--it's
+getting beautifully cool, and the tree looks nice and shady. And you
+could smoke--or I could--and talk comfortably there...."
+
+He got her green-lined sun-umbrella and insisted on holding it over
+her, as they crossed the verdant, well-watered lawn to the
+patriarchal moss-cup oak of Miss Forbis's desire. A curve-backed,
+scroll-ended seat of red granite stood under its wide-spreading
+branches. Near the seat was a great bed of balsam and heliotrope.
+
+"Oh, sweet, sweet!" He had gathered a huge handful of the
+fragrant-flowered, nettle-leaved plant and laid it on Katharine's
+knee as she seated herself, and her sentences were broken with
+rapturous sniffs. "How I--do--love--the smell of heliotrope! ... I
+thought it heavenly in England,--but it was nothing to this! ... And
+the view of the house from where I sit! ... Who would have dreamed
+that behind the hideous whitewashed wall of your courtyard, so much
+of the wonderful lost city of Alexander the Great, and of the
+Ptolemies, in whose Museum Euclid and Aristophanes, and Hypatia were
+Professors,--lay snugly tucked away!" She went on wistfully:
+
+"Tell me why I feel as though my heartstrings were tangled up in the
+foundations of this dear, dear house of yours, and there were
+memories and voices in the stones of the walls! ... Why don't you
+smoke? ..."
+
+"I will if I may.... It'll keep off the mosquitoes. May I offer you
+one?" He produced a case.
+
+"No, thanks! I'll smoke mine. Yours look good, but too large and
+solid for feminine creatures to appreciate. Though when I worked at
+the Front in France, I've been glad to fall back on Army Gaspers. Or
+ten _sou_ packets of the rank Régie beloved by the Poilu."
+
+"You used to smoke before the War?" He asked it as he gave her a
+light, and she answered, as the Turkish tobacco kindled, breathing
+out a delicate puff of the fragrant bluish vapour:
+
+"After a luncheon or dinner-party, one smoked--just to keep other
+people in countenance. But afterwards--in France--and here, to quiet
+one's jangled nerves!"
+
+"You don't look like a woman with jangled nerves," he said,
+considering her steadily.
+
+"Perhaps not, but still they play up sometimes.... Look at the
+swallows--they've already begun to build! In the corner of the
+window of that big upper room with three large windows latticed up,
+and groups of columns between them--and a dome, rising behind the
+pediment--it is a pediment, isn't it? that long triangular stone?
+..."
+
+The deep voice said to her:
+
+"No one ever uses that room where you see the swallows building. It
+is kept locked all through the year except on one day...." The great
+brown hand pointed to the three windows below the pediment, the deep
+voice so like and so unlike John Hazel's went on: "There is an altar
+in that room with a Christian shrine beneath it.... We strip the
+gardens bare each year to make the chapel beautiful,--we who have
+been Guardians of the Shrine for more than sixteen hundred years...."
+
+"But--but this is a Jewish house! ..."
+
+"That is quite true." The brown hand waved. "The house belongs to
+Jews indeed, but it was not theirs always.... Nor do we break the
+Jewish Law in honouring the dead. Should you, who are of his race
+and faith, desire to visit the chapel ... here is the key....
+Whenever you will, I am ready to take you there."
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+He rose, and took from his pocket, and held out to Miss Forbis, a
+flat metal spatula of Eastern make, attached to a silver chain. She
+looked from the clumsy object in the big brown hand to the grave face
+above it, whose dense black eyes had a reddish glow; and saw that his
+temples and blue-shaven upper-lip and jaws glistened with points of
+moisture, though the sun had but the tempered heat of these first
+days of November, and a sea-breeze coming out of the West whispered
+among the leaves.
+
+"How am I of his race?" she asked, after a moment's hesitation.
+"Please be good enough to keep the key.... One of these days I may
+muster curiosity to visit the shrine in the chapel. Just now, to
+tell the truth, I want more to talk to you. I've put it off, as one
+does dodge sorrowful things, but now I've got to tell you...." Her
+voice wavered and her lips were tremulous. "It has to do with the
+letter you brought me from Palestine...."
+
+"I am quite as anxious to hear as you are to tell me. But first,
+Miss Forbis, you must visit the shrine in the chapel. You ought to
+have gone there before, but you wished to see the garden, and your
+wish is a command here,--I could only obey! But now--"
+
+He offered her the clumsy key, coolly and imperturbably. There was
+incredulity in her tone, as she inquired:
+
+"You don't mean that I must go, whether I wish it or do not?"
+
+"I am sorry to coerce you," he said with stern distinctness. "You
+must understand that. But, before we hear the Sunset Call to Prayer
+from the Mosque of Sidi Amr, it is necessary that you should visit
+the shrine. Understand me--it is incumbent upon you as the
+representative of your family. You have to!"
+
+"'Have to! ...'"
+
+She rose to her feet, and her angry eyes swept over him
+contemptuously. To be ordered about by this man was
+intolerable--absurd.... They faced each other, and the old gulf
+opened and yawned between them--as it had in the drawing-room at
+Kerr's Arbour, eight months before.
+
+"'Have to!' ... You rather forget yourself, don't you, Mr. Hazel? ..."
+
+"I do what is my duty in enforcing respect to _him_!"
+
+He drew himself to his towering height, folded his great arms, and
+looked at her calmly.
+
+He spoke again, and the profound tones vibrated through her, like the
+sound of a Buddhist temple-bell....
+
+"_Through the centuries since he died for the Faith of the Nazarene,
+Christian priests have blessed his ashes on one day in every year.
+Not even when Alexandria lay in cinders and ruin, was there lacking a
+son of the Hazaël to guard his relics here. But since Marcus Fabius
+the Tribune came here on his way to Britain with the Tenth Legion of
+Constantine,--and the son of Marcus, Florens Fabius--journeyed from
+Rome twenty years later,--and the Crusaders Fulk and Hew came eleven
+hundred and sixty years after, and Bishop Ralph in 1809, and Philip
+in 1881, to kneel before his shrine; no heart filled with his blood
+has beaten in the lonely chamber, no lips warm with his life have
+touched the chilly stone._"
+
+The clang of the great voice ceased to oppress her sense of hearing.
+She bent her noble head in splendid humility, a great lady, rebuked
+by the descendant of an Hebrew steward, and said:
+
+"You have reproached me very justly. My only excuse is--that I did
+not understand!"
+
+He went with her across the lawn, and ushered her through the loggia
+door into a passage, and up a wide staircase leading by one short
+flight of steps to the single floor above. She took the curious
+Eastern key he silently offered her, and put it in the lock of the
+door he had stopped at. The lock yielded easily....
+
+"Won't--won't you come too?" she whispered, oppressed with an
+increasing sense of awe, and John Hazel's voice answered from behind
+her:
+
+"We are the Guardians of the Shrine, and yet we may not enter. It
+would not be according to the Law!"
+
+Thus Katharine went in alone, her heart-beats quickened by the
+startled whirr of wings, as the busy swallows quitted their
+nest-building in the upper corner of one of the three tall windows,
+filled in with lattices of carved and painted marble, and looking on
+the garden, now all golden in the rays of the westering sun.
+
+The ceiling rose to a frescoed dome, with an opening at the apex.
+The spice of incense and the perfume of flowers yet sweetened the
+still air of this place of memories. It was a revelation of
+wonderful art, its dome and walls covered with ancient frescoes,
+representing in all the opulent symbolism of early Christianity, the
+anchor, the palm, the Dove with the olive-branch; the Vine, the heavy
+ear of Wheat, the Fish, the Chalice encircled with rays of
+glory,--the Good Shepherd carrying His lamb. The carved and
+inwrought and costly screens of cedar and ebony-wood were all inlaid
+in mother o' pearl, silver and ivory. Nothing had been spared in
+money or labour, to perfect this--the replica in miniature, of the
+interior of a Coptic Christian Church. Save that seemly, exquisite
+neatness, and scrupulous cleanliness reigned here instead of dust and
+dirt, spider-webs, and bird and bat-droppings; and the disquieting
+disorder which too often, in the East, prevails in such a sacred
+place....
+
+Katharine passed over the mosaic floor of red and green porphyry and
+grey crystalline syenite, and through the central opening in the
+latticed outer screen. The gates stood open, showing an altar,
+wrought of black Egyptian basalt, standing under a baldaquin of
+inlaid ebony-wood borne on four carved and inlaid columns, the rich
+embroidered curtains of the baldaquin being drawn back. Four
+man-high candlesticks of silver, holding great unlighted tapers, were
+set one at each corner of the basalt altar. On the altar was an
+upper covering of rich silk, embroidered with gold. On this were a
+censer of silver open-work, a silver-gilt or golden incense-box, and
+two golden candlesticks of magnificent workmanship flanked the usual
+copy of the Four Gospels, sealed in a gold and jewelled case.
+
+Three silver lamps hung before the altar. In the central lamp alone
+burned a tiny votive flame. The altar was not raised above the
+floor.... Its front was uncovered, and a small square opening in
+this resembled a doorway.
+
+In the cavity revealed by the opening stood an alabaster urn of
+funerary type and evidently of great antiquity. Katharine, kneeling
+on the upper step of the little sanctuary, could, despite the
+tempering of the light by the screens and window-lattices, clearly
+distinguish below the Greek monogram of the Sacred Name, in irregular
+lines of incised Roman capitals,--still rusty-bright with antique
+gilding,--the epitaph in faulty Latin:
+
+
+ "MARTYR CHRISTI, AMICVSPAVPERVM.
+
+EGO PHILOREMUS FLORENS FABIVS. CLARISSIMVS. PRÆTOR VECTIGALIVM
+ÆGVPTORVM. ALEXANDRIA. SEPTIMVS ANNO AVGVSTI MAXIMIANVS ÆGYPTI
+IMPERATORIS. QUE VIXIT. ANN. XL. MENS. V.D. VII. MENSIS
+OCTOBRIS IDIBUS. PORTA SPEI INTROGRESSVS SVM."
+
+
+A rough translation of which might run:
+
+
+"_The Martyr of Christ, the Friend of the Poor. I, Philoremus
+Florens Fabius, of Senatorial Rank, Receiver-General at Alexandria of
+the Taxes of Egypt. In the Seventh Year of the Reign of Cæsar
+Maximianus, Emperor of Africa. Aged Forty Years, Five months and
+Seven Days. On the Ides of October, Entered in at the Gate of Hope._"
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+Katharine Forbis came out of the chapel, noiselessly shutting the
+door behind her, and stood, looking silently down at a man who knelt
+there. He raised the head that had been bowed nearly to the floor,
+and rose to his feet at the sound of her footstep, removed his cap,
+and, standing aside made room for Miss Forbis to pass him before he
+re-locked the door. Then he followed her downstairs, through the
+passage and doorway leading to the loggia, and back into the garden
+they had left....
+
+Copts with tied-back sleeves and tucked-up _gelabiyehs_ were moving
+among the flower-beds with wheeled tanks and syringes, setting water
+running in the channels bordering the paths of the rose-alleys and
+shrubberies. Already the perfume exhaled from wet rich soil and
+dampened petals freshened the air, and the sultry heat had abated.
+Coolness was coming with the short Eastern twilight, the sky above,
+and to the west, was streaked with pomegranate and amber; the
+elongated shadow of the house, with its dome and pediment and flat
+loggiaed roofs, stretched dusky-blue over the grass to the foot of
+the red granite seat under the moss-cup oak.
+
+Katharine's heliotropes were lying on the seat, faded already but
+still exhaling sweetness.... As she lifted them from the hot red
+stone, the faint south breeze brought to her across the crowded
+buildings, and the traffic of Khedive street, the mellow voice of a
+muezzin from the minaret of the Mosque Sidi Amr, crying, as it cries
+thrice a day, from thousands of minarets in four world-continents:
+
+
+"_Allah is most great! I witness that there is no God but Allah!
+And Mohammed is the apostle of Allah! Come to prayer! Prayer is
+better than work! Come to salvation! God is most great! There is
+no God but Allah!_"
+
+
+When the voice from the mosque, and its myriad human echoes had
+vibrated into silence, and the distant noise of the crowded streets
+had rolled back into hearing again,--Katharine said to the man who
+stood silently beside her, his khaki cap dangling from his big right
+hand:
+
+"Mr. Hazel, you have to forgive in me an indifference that may have
+wounded you. But until I found myself in that chapel, in the
+presence of the reliquary urn that speaks of his martyrdom, my
+ancestor was no more to me than a legendary old Roman, who lived and
+died in a remote Past, in a distant part of the world. But since I
+said a prayer for him before that altar, it was--as though he had
+only died a month or two ago! ... Now, it crushes me to realise that
+through more than sixteen centuries, you and yours have guarded those
+ashes in the urn! ..."
+
+"It is true. Since the forefather of Ephraim--you have seen
+Ephraim--it was he who attended you here from Montana--brought back
+the ring to Alexandria, and the widow opened the sealed packet--the
+wishes of the Founder of the House of Hazaël have scrupulously been
+carried out. There has always been a Christian hand to clean the
+lamp and feed it with oil daily, and place fresh flowers in the vases
+on one day in the year.... Though I have heard that in the days of
+the Great Earthquake--when fifty thousand people perished in the fire
+or were buried beneath the ruins,--there was no oil for the famine
+that then prevailed...."
+
+The deep monotonous voice that spoke in somewhat archaic English--was
+and was not the voice of John Hazel.... And suddenly, with a shudder
+and a crisping of the nerves as she looked at and listened to
+him,--Katharine doubted whether he realised that he was speaking at
+all....
+
+"Chosroes the Persian King," the deep voice went on, "laid siege to
+the city,--and the Arab Amru, general of Omar's Saracen
+armies,--wrested it from the Persians and held it:--but before the
+urn,--hidden in a secret chamber of this dwelling, the votive lamp
+burned still! And as a weaker hawk by suddenness snatches a quail
+from a hawk that is by far the stronger--and as the stronger pursues
+and wrests it from the first, even so the Greeks took Alexandria by
+cunning from the Saracens--and the Saracens won her back again--yet
+the lamp went on burning, for the hands that tended it were faithful,
+and the children of Hazaël's children's children were sedulous to do
+his will. Then in the Fourteenth Century of your Christian Era came
+the Crusaders and sacked and spoiled the city. But the lamp was not
+quenched even then! ... Nor when the French seized Alexandria--nor
+when the British took and held it--nor when they ceded it to Mehmet
+Ali--did the lamp cease to burn.... Jewish oil is very good, and
+Jewish hearts remember! The Past is living as the Present in the
+mind of the Jew. The negress whom you saw to-day, and her husband
+Zaid, are Christians. It is they who are entrusted--like their
+forerunners, with the keeping of the place...."
+
+His tone changed. He spoke now in his own clipped and slangy
+vernacular.
+
+"By the way--I want to say--with reference to the apology you
+were--so--gracious as to offer me, that I think it was awfully
+ripping of you! But for a thing I said, a bit back, that rather
+rattled you.... _I_ don't apologise at all! ..."
+
+"Dear John Hazel, I haven't even asked you!" In her frank, womanly,
+impulsive way, she stretched out a hand and lightly pressed his. "I
+have learned from you the priceless worth of Jewish loyalty and
+Jewish honour;--and a devotion for which I don't know even how to
+begin to express my gratitude and esteem! Unless in some way like
+this--"
+
+He started, and his dark hand clenched; for carried away by an
+irresistible impulse, Miss Forbis had bent aside and brushed it
+lightly with her lips. The instant the impulse had had its way she
+realised her mistake.... For the man's great frame quivered from
+head to foot as though the ague fit of fever were upon him.... He
+mastered the trembling with an effort that left him rigid; and
+said,--his face yet stiffly averted and his black eyes bent upon the
+ground:
+
+"You asked me a good many months ago,--I don't mistake--for I
+remember everything you've ever said to me!--if I thought that you
+and I had ever lived on earth before now?" He went on as she bent
+her head, sensing the movement rather than seeing it. "What I said
+then, I say again! ... I don't believe either of us is by way of
+making a second visit to this little old planet.... But somehow we
+are influenced by those who have passed on! Not by the hanky-panky,
+table-rapping, automatic pencil-scribbling Spooklets you summon up as
+with your thumbs crossed,--points downwards--and your little fingers
+jammed against those of your right-and-left hand neighbours,--you sit
+round a rubber-covered table in a stuffy, darkened room.... Spirits
+of dead poets who've forgotten how to turn a rhyme!--dead historians
+who mix up Alexander the Great with Napoleon the Little--and
+perpetrate howlers that would disgrace a Fourth Standard Board School
+kid.... Dead Editors who can't spell for peanuts.... And dead
+chemists who're knocked out by the formula of H2O!"
+
+He moved behind the seat and sat on the other end of it, crossing his
+long legs, slipping his left arm from the sling, and nursing a
+big-boned knee in both powerful hands as he went on:
+
+"Put it that those who carried in their blood the germs that you and
+I have sprung from--living on the Other Side as conscious
+Intelligences,--are permitted by the Divine Power Who rules things
+visible and invisible,--to sway us, help us, prompt our actions,
+check our impulses and desires--and you have what I believe,
+concentrated down to tabloid form! On the whole, your Catholic faith
+in Guardian Angels isn't much unlike it. Only, instead of a
+bright-winged spirit hovering somewhere near me, I've felt as though
+a big old man, dark and strong, like my father,--was keeping his eye
+on me.... And the bias of the lead he gave,--quite definite when you
+shut your eyes--and felt back in the dark of your mind along the
+spider-thread that led to him,--was definitely for Right and clearly
+opposed to Wrong! ..."
+
+Hugging his knee, he looked for the first time directly at Katharine,
+since that swift incautious touch of her lips had levelled the last
+barrier, and turned his blood to flame. There was no shamed
+consciousness in the pure eyes that met his.... She listened, and
+his thoughts were mirrored in the swift changes of her face....
+
+"I didn't shape out this theory of mine, till I was getting close on
+thirty. I'd lived all my life amongst Christians and Jews who
+faithfully believed in Nothing!--and what one saw, and touched and
+tasted was quite enough for them and for me! That I ran anything but
+straight, there's not the least earthly use denying...." His memory
+went back to Birdie Bright, and others of her liberal sisterhood, and
+a dusky flush burned under his tawny, sun-baked skin. "But when the
+War broke out, and I joined the London Terriers--and saw men dying in
+the mud of France and Flanders, as up to date I'm seeing 'em die in
+the dirt of Palestine!--the advantage of living clean and being ready
+to answer to one's number came home to me as it never had before....
+And Life was sweet, because it was so damnably uncertain! ... Men
+dealt Death every hour to the son of some mother, and no one could
+have guessed when it mightn't be his turn! Fellows used to tell me I
+killed men as if I liked doing it!--and I'm bound to admit I did! ...
+They said I sang as I fought,--in Hebrew one learned bloke swore it
+was! Though, as I hardly knew a word,--it couldn't have been the
+truth. But this is true, that in the blinding thick of the scrap I'd
+feel that big man near me.... I've seen him--or as good as!--signing
+and waving me on.... And when I came back to Hospital, and got that
+letter from Jaffa, and took over the Title Deeds, and the
+Guardianship of the Ashes; and put on the onyx signet-ring--"
+
+"Then?" Her clear eyes were intent upon him....
+
+"Then, instead of one old man, big and dark and brawny, strangely
+dressed--standing somewhere back of me, grimly willing me on; I
+seemed to be--I seem now!--to be looking back through Time down an
+interminable line of such men.... And the biggest of all the big old
+men is right away at the end! ... That's all! ..." He put down the
+knee he had nursed.
+
+"We Catholics believe that the souls of our dead love us and pray for
+us; and by Our Lord's permission--may sometimes help us in need. Do
+you think--do not answer unless you wish!--that he--your Big Old
+Man--ever suggests answers to you? ... Or prompts you with knowledge
+having reference to bygone matters? ... Forgotten, old, long-buried
+things, of which you could not otherwise know? ..."
+
+"I think--" He turned his face to Katherine, and it was no longer
+stern and grim, but wore the toothy, cheerful grin of Private
+Abrahams--"that sometimes that Biggest Old Man of All is quite close
+to me. Towering up over my head, and sticking out all around me!
+And the thing he wants I've got to do, and the line he points I
+follow. And have to until Kingdom Come, and All the Rest, Amen! ..."
+
+"Is he huge and tawny-brown with coarse curls of jet-black hair--and
+a great beard--and a fillet of white leather, set with green
+stones--round his forehead? ... Has he a face much like yours, but
+stern as Destiny? ... Is he wrapped in a great black mantle with a
+hood like a Dominican's? Does he wear immense thigh-boots and carry
+an iron-shod staff? ..."
+
+The memory of her dream, months back at Kerr's Arbour, had prompted
+Katharine's question. John Hazel turned and looked at her in utter
+amaze.
+
+"That's how _I_ see him, but how do _you_ come to know? ..."
+
+"I don't know,--but I saw a man like that in a dream, once.... I
+seemed to be in danger, threatened by evil beings, and he came to the
+rescue. That's absolutely all! But, let me out of the depth of my
+own ignorance, give you a word of warning. This strange gift of
+yours ought to be held reverently. Kept a profound secret, and never
+under any circumstance? whatever submitted to a stranger's control.
+You understand?"
+
+"All right! I'll be wide--O!" His black eyes snapped as he
+answered, and she went on:
+
+"Now to come back to usual things, look at this flower, and tell me
+whether you know it?" She was holding out to him a withered spike of
+multifold white blossoms, exhaling a faint and delicate smell:
+
+"That lily-thing...." He took it carefully in his big fingers. "All
+through October it was blooming in Palestine. Acres and acres of
+it--all white and yellow--when I left the Front to come down here.
+Smells nice!" He sniffed at it cautiously. "Something between a
+West End church got up for a Society wedding,--and the hall of a
+house blocked up with florist's boxes--where there's going to be a
+first-class funeral.... Presently, when the Spring comes along,
+there'll be scarlet tulips, and rose and purple anemones, and
+pink-and-white turncap lilies, and flowers I couldn't as much as name
+to you--miles and miles of 'em swarming over the plains, and covering
+the knees of those old Judæan Hills. The name of this is asphodel.
+I forget who told me! Where did you get it? ... I haven't seen it
+here! ..."
+
+"It came in the letter you brought me from Palestine...." She took
+back the withered flower and slipped it back within her blouse. His
+eyes followed it, and she went on: "It is of the letter I wanted
+particularly to speak to you. For it tells me that Julian--my
+brother--is alive! ..."
+
+"And a prisoner! ..." He spoke with certainty....
+
+"And a prisoner at a Turkish labour-camp!"
+
+"What are you going to do? ..."
+
+Her bosom heaved in a perplexed sigh. Her broad brows knitted, and
+her clear eyes were clouded as she turned them upon John:
+
+"Move Heaven and earth in any way possible to get my poor boy out of
+that earthly hell! Meanwhile one must wait, I suppose--"
+
+"Does it strike you as a case likely to benefit by waiting?"
+
+"No!--and in spite of that there is nothing to do but wait.
+Unless--unless you, who were so prompt to help in those troubled days
+at Kerr's Arbour, could suggest any--definite plan of action to me
+now? ..."
+
+"I'll do my best, you may be sure!"
+
+"I know you will," she responded gratefully. "But first I must put
+you in possession of the facts. Julian--"
+
+"Is at Shechem.... I know it already.... No!" For her eyes had
+cried out to him "Edward! ..." "From another informant than Colonel
+Yaill. The airman who brought me here,--an Egyptian
+reconnaissance-officer I met at Salonika--happens to be on special
+duty at the Palestine Front just now.... Wing-Major Essenian
+Pasha.... Perhaps you've heard the name? ..."
+
+She thought, and answered:
+
+"Yes, I have often seen it mentioned in Despatches, in association
+with feats of aviation; bombing-raids carried out single-handed for
+the most part; dazzling reconnaissances over strongholds held by the
+enemy...."
+
+"That's my man. 'A vivid personality,' my mother'd have ticketed
+him.... He was an officer of the Khedive's Artillery in prehistoric
+ages--at the time of the Egyptian Army Revolt under Arabi Pasha.
+That was about 1881. And he was with Hicks Pasha's Expedition in
+1883--against the Mahdi--which got wiped out by the Baggara near El
+Obeyd.... He had a command under Baker Pasha in 1884, and was with
+the Dongola Relief Advance,--and with the Khartoum Column in 1897 ...
+Emin Pasha was a pal of his--and Gordon thought no end of him....
+When the South African War of 1900 broke out he'd retired--was living
+at Ismailia--as a wealthy Egyptian ex-officer of Engineers.... Took
+up aviation and started a Flying Club here in Alexandria about
+1911.... Gave the Club an aërodrome--with hangars and
+everything!--the big place you've seen near the Water Works,--and
+another at Ismailia where he lives--and another on the Upper Nile!
+... And as he flies like Satan, the Government snapped at him, when
+he volunteered for the Royal Flying Corps in 1914...."
+
+"He must be a brave man! ..."
+
+"Got nerve enough for anything! ... And to look at him you'd guess
+him to be thirty-five as the limit.... Yet there are old men here in
+Alexandria who've known him since they were gay young Johnnies,--and
+they're ready to bet their wigs and false teeth that he's always been
+the same! ..."
+
+"Could Essenian Pasha be of use in this particular emergency? ..."
+
+"You mean your brother's case? ... He had the facts from me at
+Salonika.... I said the brother of a friend of mine--a Chaplain
+serving with the Expeditionary--was missing since the storming of
+Scimitar Hill and supposed to have been killed.... And I mentioned
+his being a Catholic priest, and added his name, and a few
+particulars. For instance, I'd heard from the landlady at the _Cross
+Keys_, Cauldstanes, months ago, that Father Forbis was very handsome.
+'As like oor Miss Forbis as gin they were twins'--I can't do her
+Scotch for peanuts, 'but blue-eyed and wi' fair hair.'"
+
+"It is true. Except about us being so much alike," she said, her
+eyes now openly brimming over. "For Julian has almost the beauty of
+an angel, and when he sings, the voice of one. My father worshipped
+him.... So did Mark--and I for that matter! ... So did the priests
+and the students at the Seminary, the Prior and the Fathers at the
+Monastery, and the officers and men of the Brigade with which he
+served.... You should see the letters they wrote me when his death
+was reported. And now!--Don't be scared!--I'm not going to cry."
+
+She brought out a little filmy handkerchief and dried the tears
+bravely, and put it away again....
+
+"Crying isn't of any use. Forget that I was stupid enough to shed
+tears!--they are over and done with now. Tell me how your friend of
+the R.F.C. could help us in this strait?"
+
+John Hazel hugged his knee again, and said, with knitted eyebrows:
+
+"You mean, how I think, and he believes, he could help us,--since he
+dropped down in our lines the day after Sheria. He'd been doing a
+lot of reconnaissance over Hebron and Shechem, and a shell from a
+Turkish A.A. had burst near them--and Captain Usborn of the
+Engineers, his observer--was lying over, stone-dead--behind his Lewis
+gun.... Shot through the head. See--this is the bullet that did
+it!" He slipped two fingers inside a front-pocket of his tunic, drew
+out and showed her the dented cone of lead....
+
+"Isn't that," her fine brows frowned, "rather a gruesome relic to
+carry? ..."
+
+"Well, you know!--that's as you happen to look at it. I wasn't out
+for mascots--the thing came my way, and so I just froze on....
+And"--he dropped the bullet back again, "then Major Essenian Pasha
+sent for me, and asked me--I'd flown with him several times near
+Salonika--"
+
+John Hazel spoke in a low voice calculated just to reach her ear:
+
+"He asked me whether I'd replace Usborn on the flight back to
+Ismailia,--if permission could be wrested from the Powers that Be?
+... Then he went on to tell me of something he'd got from an Arab,
+with reference to a British prisoner in the labour-camp at Shechem.
+A Catholic priest, a tall fair man, astonishingly handsome,--who was
+suffering brutal ill-usage at the hands of Hamid Bey...."
+
+"'Hamid Bey!'" She caught at the name. "Colonel Yaill speaks of
+that man in my letter.... He is the Turkish Commandant of the
+prison-camp at Shechem." ...
+
+"He ought to be Commandant of a Division in Hell, going by what I've
+heard of him! By the way, may I ask you not to mention his name in
+the hearing of my aunt.... For we Hazaëls," said John with a bitter
+sneer--"have a little family score of our own to settle with His
+Excellency, Hamid Bey, Miralai of the Shechem Prison Camp...."
+
+"I shall not forget. I will make a point of being careful! ... But
+forgive me if I ask you again, how you think this officer--Major
+Essenian Pasha--could help my brother now? ..."
+
+"Well, for one thing, knowing the lie of the camp pretty well, the
+Pasha could carry a passenger.... A man who'd be prepared for
+risks--to some place in the neighbourhood of Shechem. At night, of
+course I mean,--and drop him there quietly, and fly back at a stated
+hour--and pick him up again! He could even--given a suitable
+machine, made to carry more weight and bulk than a mere two-seat
+scouter--pick up two men near Shechem--and take them to the British
+lines!"
+
+She drank in the words, her fascinated gaze fixed on the long
+mahogany-hued hawk-face, which held her with the unwavering stare of
+its glowing black eyes. She asked with a catch in her hurried breath:
+
+"And the--the 'man prepared for risks,' who would undertake to
+venture--?"
+
+"Disguised as a Bedawi of a tribe on good terms with the Turks.... I
+know enough Arabic to get on with. That takes the edge off the risk
+... lessens the handicap! Call the chances seventy-five to one
+against--" said John Hazel coolly,--"and I suppose you wouldn't be so
+much over the estimate! ..."
+
+"But"--she heard her voice coming from a long way off, out of a
+breathless stillness: "where is the man who would undertake so
+perilous a thing?" _Edward!_ her heart throbbed in her, _he is
+thinking of Edward!_ ...
+
+John Hazel answered quietly:
+
+"You see the man here! ..."
+
+"You? ..."
+
+Her heart gave a great leap against Yaill's hidden letter,
+stopped--and then went on beating again:
+
+"You mean yourself?--and I thought--"
+
+"I told you I estimated the chances against, at seventy-five to one.
+So it isn't quite the sort of job you start another man on! It's the
+kind of thing you calculate to carry through on your own hook. The
+only thing that badgers me is the chance that your friend the
+Colonel--"
+
+Their eyes met. He went on, slowly syllabling the words:
+
+"Might be--calculating to play his own game about when I start mine.
+And for us to clash--"
+
+The startled intake of her breath did not escape him. She finished:
+
+"Would be fatal.... Yes--I can understand! ..."
+
+"For us to clash would bally well upset the apple-cart. You've no
+idea when Colonel Yaill--"
+
+"He has not named a date! ..."
+
+"But he is going to have a shot at getting your brother out of that
+labour hell at Shechem...." He studied her face, with its clear eyes
+and sweet determined mouth.... "And he's told you so in
+confidence--and you're not going to give away the show! ... Of course
+you're right! Still--you'll own--it's a bit of a handicap.... 'Too
+many cooks....' But I'm forewarned, so we'll hope the broth won't be
+spoiled! Wish we could send the Colonel the tip--but in that line
+there's nothing doing! One thing I'm sure of. He'd know me again
+wherever he happened to knock up against me!--and I'd know him if I
+saw his skin nailed on a gate!" She shuddered, and he added, as a
+short, slight, dark-skinned officer came out at the lower door
+opening on the loggia, ushered with scrupulous respect by the
+black-robed Ephraim. "Now,--may I present to you Major Essenian
+Pasha? ... He has something to say to me on the quiet about
+this--projected excursion, or he wouldn't have dropped in here! ...
+Lives at Ismailia, as I've said.... And before him, better drop no
+hint of knowing what I've told you.... I'll explain later, why I
+think it best...."
+
+She said, proudly rearing her beautiful head on her long white throat:
+
+"You need fear no incautious betrayal of your confidence from me...."
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+John Hazel got up from the granite seat, saluted Miss Forbis, and
+moved with long strides across the lawn, to meet the visitor....
+
+With strained interest Katharine watched the meeting. The Egyptian
+Flying Officer, a dark-skinned, bright-eyed, wiry man, whose short
+and slight, but muscular and active figure was set off by his
+well-cut uniform of khaki cotton-drill,--said something in a rapid
+undertone as he met Hazel. Hazel replied. Their colloquy lasted
+barely a minute, but to Katharine, vibrating with the sense of great
+issues, it seemed as though the few words spoken by the Egyptian had
+settled the question at stake.
+
+Then both men crossed the greensward together, the top of the Pasha's
+sun-helmet barely on a level with Hazel's middle arm. Hazel
+presented Major Essenian Pasha. The Egyptian bowed like a Frenchman,
+from the hips, and was profoundly honoured to meet Miss Forbis, of
+whom he had heard so much from Lady Donnithorpe. And Katharine,
+responding with her high-bred grace and composure to his frothy
+compliments, found herself at once repelled and attracted by
+something in this man.
+
+Small, alert, dark-hued as bronze, with the long, narrow eyes, the
+wide brows and curving profile of the statues of the Egyptian god
+Horus, Essenian Pasha might have been barely past thirty, and
+certainly conveyed the idea of mental vigour, abounding health and
+restless vitality.
+
+"I had the pleasure some years back," he said to Katharine, "of
+meeting in Cairo an English officer who may be your relation!
+Captain Mark Forbis, of a regiment belonging to the Brigade of
+Guards.... He was for a short period, A.D.C. to the
+Commander-in-Chief at Ismailia. Captain Forbis was exceedingly
+handsome. May I say, although he was a blond man, and blue-eyed,
+that I detect a remarkable resemblance to him in you...."
+
+Katharine answered as the speaker waited, with his gleaming eyes upon
+her:
+
+"My brother Mark held a Captaincy in a well-known Guards Regiment,
+the 'Cut Red Feathers.' He was killed at Mons in August, 1914." She
+added, of purpose, "My younger brother Julian is a Catholic monk of
+the Order of S. Gerard. He served as a Chaplain with our troops at
+Suvla and Gallipoli...."
+
+The Pasha's beryl eyes suddenly lightened. He said in his most suave
+and dulcet tones, his slender fingers smoothing his clipped black
+moustache:
+
+"Your brother has then undergone some terrible experiences. May I
+venture to ask if he was present at the assault on Scimitar Hill?"
+
+"He was with his brigade when the 29th Division fought their way up
+through the scrub-fire." Too late she caught a warning glance from
+John Hazel's sombre eyes.
+
+"He was not wounded? ..."
+
+"I--hope not! I--I believe not...."
+
+"It must have been a great joy to welcome him back again!"
+
+"It would be, if--"
+
+"If I had!" the sentence would have ended.... But she broke off, her
+cheeks and the rims of her delicate ears and her fair temples
+crimson. Yet, after all, why should she prevaricate? What matter if
+the man did know, thought candid Katharine? Was he not going to help
+Julian--at least, according to John Hazel? Why, then, had John
+enjoined reserve and secrecy? ...
+
+Her quick flush faded, but it had not escaped the observation of
+Essenian. The Horus smile on his dark, smooth lips was subtler and
+more insinuating, and the gleam between the lids of his long-lashed
+eyes more languid than before, as he said:
+
+"I understand. Though the Allied Forces have been withdrawn--and the
+Campaign of the Dardanelles is relegated to the pigeon-hole where
+Whitehall keeps its failures--your brother has not been lucky enough
+yet to obtain leave? ..."
+
+He seemed to be probing, with his bland, persistent questions and
+veiled looks of sympathy, in Katharine's aching heart. She gave a
+little, irresistible shudder. He saw it, and continued in his
+smooth, caressing voice:
+
+"Or possibly the duties of a priest detain Mr. Forbis elsewhere? We
+Easterns have a proverb--it may be new to you:" The insinuating tones
+were even more gentle and velvety:
+
+
+"_For a plain man to become a priest is robbery of one woman. For
+one handsome man who becomes a priest a hundred women are robbed!_"
+
+
+The tone, rather than the words, conveyed something indescribably
+offensive. John Hazel started, palpably, and his scowl was
+thunderous. Wrath surged in Katharine's blood and she tingled to the
+finger-tips with a momentary, almost ungovernable desire to strike
+this man's smooth face. Scandalised at herself, furious with him,
+she commanded herself sufficiently to say in cool unruffled tones,
+rising from her seat:
+
+"Charmed to have met you, Major Essenian Pasha.... Mr. Hazel, ever
+so many thanks for showing us your beautiful house. Now I must go
+and say good-bye to your aunt, and collect my friend, Lady Wastwood,
+for we are due at the Hospital. No!--please don't come with
+me--though you might 'phone for the car! ..."
+
+"Mine is at the door.... I should be honoured and charmed if Miss
+Forbis and her friend would use it!" came in the soft ingratiating
+tones of Essenian....
+
+John Hazel, already striding towards the house, halted and wheeled,
+looking at Katharine. Something in the expression of his black eyes
+conveyed the warning: It would be wiser not to snub this man! And,
+with revolt and distaste thrilling in her blood, Miss Forbis forced
+herself to smile and be gracious, and accept the officious offer of
+the Pasha's automobile.
+
+"One moment, my King of Damascus, while I instruct my chauffeur where
+to take the ladies, and call for me later.... 'The Palace, Montana,'
+is it not?" Essenian said to John Hazel, glancing at a platinum watch
+in a band of grey gazelle-leather, strapped on his slender dusky
+wrist.
+
+If a second rapid exchange of glances between Katharine and Hazel did
+not escape his observation, he gave no sign. He smiled, and went
+back across the lawn to the house, a small, slender figure, moving
+with short rapid steps, almost mincingly, and--for the Pasha's
+presence oppressed her physically--Katharine could breathe freely
+again....
+
+"Miss Forbis!" John Hazel spoke quickly and in an undertone: "It's
+for your own sake I presumed to dictate to you just now in the matter
+of accepting the Pasha's civility. You see, when you let out your
+brother was a priest, you put Major Essenian wise to the prisoner's
+identity. Can't very well snub a man when he's going to risk his
+life for you! And the thing's fairly settled. We leave Ismailia Air
+Station for Shechem at the latest," he glanced at his wrist-watch,
+"by three to-morrow morning!"
+
+"To-morrow morning! ..." She caught her breath, and he could see her
+heart's tumultuous throbbing under the thin white silk of her dainty
+blouse.
+
+"Oh dear John Hazel!" she said with passionate fervour, her wide
+eyes, their irises mere tawny circles round the dilated
+pupils,--fixed upon his swarthy, excited face.... "May God protect
+and keep you!--and help you to save him!--my dear old Julian--my poor
+boy! ... Tell me how long I have to wait before I may hope to hear
+from you! How and when shall I hear? ..."
+
+"If things go wrong I can't answer for your hearing...." John grinned
+with the grin of Private Abrahams.... "Unless they let me come back
+from the Other Side to report! But if things go right,--and we get
+your brother out of that"--he did not finish the sentence, "I pledge
+you my word you shall hear from me within twenty-four hours of the
+snatch!"
+
+"Thank you. And--Mr. Hazel," she was holding out two letters, one
+inscribed only with a name, the other addressed twice over--once in a
+large, ornate, feminine hand, to "Lieut. Col. Edward Yaill, Kerr's
+Arbour, Cauldstanes, Tweedshire, N.B." and again in old Whishaw's
+staggering round-hand to "Care of Miss Forbis, No. --th Unit V.A.D.
+Royal Red Cross Society, Care of the Commandant Convalescent
+Hospital, Montana, Alexandria, Egypt."
+
+"Were these a charge for me?" he asked.
+
+"Yes. I am going to ask you to take them with you, in case you
+should again meet Colonel Yaill. One is my answer to the letter you
+brought. There is a line in it for Julian.... You see," she turned
+the envelope, "I have sealed it with my onyx ring. That is Julian's
+really--and a day may come when I shall be able to hand it over to
+him! The other came yesterday with my mail from Home.... I do not
+know, but I imagine--it is from the lady who--is Colonel Yaill's
+wife...."
+
+"Righto! I'll take 'em both along. If I can't get 'em where they
+ought to go, you shall have 'em back anyway."
+
+"Thanks!" She drew a breath of sheer relief as he took the letters
+from her. Ah! my sweet-hearted Katharine. How womanfully you had
+striven with the urgent desire to tear that buff-coloured envelope,
+leprous with stamps of different hues and scored with many postmarks,
+into a thousand infinitesimal pieces; and how thoroughly, as things
+turned out,--you would have been punished if you had....
+
+"Does it strike you as it does me," John glanced at the concave
+impression of her ring, "that just about here is where--" He stooped
+his tall head nearer and dropped his voice to a tone even lower,
+"that just here's where the signet both of us wear may be useful!
+Don't take any screed you get from me as Gospel truth--because it
+happens to be signed 'John Hazel'! Even suppose you got a line from
+me, saying, '_Come at once!_'--don't come unless the paper bears an
+impression of this...." He thrust forward the big left hand that
+wore the onyx head of Hercules. "Stuck underneath the signature, in
+sealing-wax, or clay, or mud--or bread, even.... And test it by the
+ring you wear, before you accept it.... And seal your communications
+to me in the same old way. Do you tumble? I mean--do you say
+'Done!'"
+
+"Done! ..."
+
+"And--you trust me? ..."
+
+"I trust you absolutely! Even though you sent for me, not saying why
+I was needed, the signet-seal would be enough--I'd say 'Julian,' and
+come! ..."
+
+"Then that's arranged! ..." He saw in the sudden change of her face
+that something menaced. Even before he turned his head the smooth
+voice of Essenian said, a long way below the level of his own great
+shoulder:
+
+"I have given the necessary instructions to my chauffeur. He will
+take the ladies out to the Hospital, Montana, and come back to pick
+us up, at the 'Aviators' Club.' For, remember, you are engaged to
+dine with me there, my King of Damascus, and sleep at my house at
+Ismailia to-night.... I have obtained you the necessary leave from
+your C.M.O. at the General Hospital." He turned to Katharine, and
+the beryl eyes and the dazzling teeth gleamed together in the bronze
+face as he resumed: "Dear lady, do you wonder why I bestow that title
+on our friend? ... Because it belongs to him. He descends--although
+he may not know it--in an unbroken line from Hazaël, King of
+Damascus--the son and successor of the Scriptural Ben-Hadad--against
+whom Shalmaneser II. of Assyria waged war, in the year 842, before
+your Christian Era. In one of the cabinets in that room"--he pointed
+to the windows looking on the loggia--"is a clay tablet inscribed in
+Semitic--Assyrian-Cuneiform,--an heirloom preserved in your family,"
+he looked at John, "for many centuries."
+
+"How tremendously interesting!" Katharine commented, doing her best
+to be pleasant with this man, for whom she had conceived, what she
+was wont to term, one of her loathings: "My brother Julian used at
+one time--I suppose he has forgotten it all now!--to dabble a good
+deal in Semitic--tell me if I pronounce the rest of it
+badly!--Assyrian-Cuneiform. He was secretary and amanuensis to the
+Father General of his Order, Abbot Lansquier, of whom perhaps you may
+have heard."
+
+"He is a great man. I have heard of him," said the Egyptian,
+quickly. "He would be interested in this tablet. It is," he went on
+addressing John, "a letter from Achab, King of Israel, in answer to
+some communication from Hazaël.... Your late grandfather and I were
+much interested in deciphering it at one time. We translated it into
+Hebrew, French, and English--and though I might miss out a word
+occasionally, I could repeat the substance of the letter by heart."
+
+
+And he began to repeat in his smooth voice:
+
+
+"_Now let us measure our strength together against this scornful King
+of Assyria, fat with the conquest of Tabul, and Milid, where are the
+silver, salt and alabaster mines. I, the King of Israel, with two
+thousand chariots and ten thousand soldiers, and thou the King of
+Damascus with seven hundred horsemen and twenty thousand unmounted
+men. And thou and I will be brothers, and thy son shall take to him
+my daughter; and the dowry I will give him with the Princess shall be
+twenty talents of gold, twenty-three thousand talents of silver, five
+thousand talents of copper, with coloured raiment from Egypt, mantles
+adorned with embroidery, a jewelled diadem, an ivory couch, a parasol
+of ivory studded with jewels, all which shall be delivered thee in
+Damascus, in the chambers of thy palace there. This is the word of
+Achab, King of Israel, to Hazaël the King of Damascus._"
+
+
+As the Egyptian repeated the final words, looking at John Hazel,
+Katharine, whose eyes had followed Essenian's, recognised with a
+thrill of alarm, the now familiar transformation of the swarthy face
+with the great hooked nose, into a mask of stone. The light died out
+of the man's black eyes. He seemed to be mentally searching. She
+knew that he groped for the end of the spider-thread that linked for
+him the Present and the Past.
+
+Essenian, in the same instant, saw the change and stopped in sheer
+amazement. He was about to speak, when the monotonous voice came
+from the mouth of the mask:
+
+
+"_So it was, and there was a compact, and peace between Hazaël and
+Achab; and Istâr the Princess of the House of Israel, was wedded to
+the son of King Hazaël. And Achab and Hazaël went forth together to
+meet the King of Assyria; and he fought with them and defeated them,
+and destroyed with weapons sixteen thousand soldiers, and took eleven
+hundred chariots, and four hundred and thirty horses, and all the
+treasures of their camps. And he drove King Hazaël from the Fortress
+of Mount Saniru, and laid waste towns and villages, and hemmed him in
+Damascus, even the city of his glory. Its gardens of trees he cut
+down. And he slew the King with a stone from a war-engine, even in
+the Court of his Palace; and his son reigned instead of him, and paid
+tribute to the King of Assyria. But the Queen said, 'Must I bear a
+son to the son of him who has been worsted in battle?' And she
+ceased not--day nor night to taunt--him, like Lilith--who--_"
+
+
+The voice faltered, broke, and stopped short. And Katharine, noting
+Essenian's rapid breathing, guessed, despite his well-maintained
+composure, that curiosity and interest raged in him.
+
+"Is there no more, my King?" he almost whispered. "Think again....
+There must be more to tell!"
+
+"_And the Queen, Istâr, said: 'Woe is me! For the star of this house
+is declining, and the days of its glory are done! I cannot go back
+to my father, for Achab has turned himself to idols. But if this
+that I bear in my womb be a son, he shall worship the God of Israel
+in His Temple at Jerusalem.... For there is none other than Him!_'"
+The dragging voice stopped.
+
+"And then ... what more? There must be more!" urged the Egyptian,
+avidly.
+
+"I--I--cannot! ..."
+
+John Hazel stared glassily at Essenian, and as Essenian looked back
+at him with long gleaming eyes of beryl, he lifted a hand to his
+forehead as though bewildered, and a dew of fine globules of
+perspiration broke out and glittered upon his temples, and cheeks,
+and jaws.... And, then, stirred to solicitude, warned by some inward
+voice to interpose, Katharine stretched forth her own hand and
+touched John Hazel lightly on the hand he lifted, saying in her
+clear, full, womanly tones:
+
+"Mr. Hazel!"
+
+"You ... you wanted me?"
+
+He asked the question dully, but in his natural, ordinary voice. His
+black eyes lost their glassy stare as they encountered
+Katharine's.... And holding them with her own bright, steady gaze,
+she spoke to him again.
+
+"It is getting late. Will you please find your aunt and the
+Commandant and tell Lady Wastwood that a car is waiting; and that we
+have only sufficient time to get back to the Hospital by seven!"
+
+"Certainly. In half a jiff! ..."
+
+He shook himself, and moved off with his lengthy strides in the
+direction of the shrubbery. And the beryl eyes of Essenian were on
+Katharine, scintillating evilly, and the smooth lips were stretched
+in that inscrutable, hateful smile....
+
+"A very remarkable type of man--our good friend Hazel!" Essenian
+said, still smiling; and Katharine returned in cool, unruffled tones:
+
+"Remarkable, and interesting."
+
+"You find that? ..." What hinted meaning lurked behind that smooth
+interrogation? "Physically and _psychologically_, I myself find him
+quite uniquely interesting. His is a curiously dual personality;
+does it not strike you as being so? What wonderful powers of
+clairvoyance are his! What a link between the Seen and the Unseen,
+such powers might forge, for one who could employ them well! A
+Seeker after Wisdom, such as I am myself...." He drew out a fine
+white linen handkerchief exhaling some delicate essence, and passed
+it over his face, and dried the palms of his dark hands. The hands
+shook; their owner was the prey of some overmastering agitation as he
+went on: "But why should I speak ambiguously to one who understands?
+I saw him pass into the trance, from which you roused him by the
+exercise of your will.... You who can control--naturally you desire
+to keep to yourself, such a gift as Mr. Hazel's--a source of
+knowledge beyond all estimate...."
+
+He went on, with increasing earnestness and persistence, as,
+conscious of increasing dislike and resentment, Katharine looked at
+him without making any reply:
+
+"Miss Forbis, you may not know that I am rich.... Whether you are so
+yourself or not, ladies appreciate exquisite jewels, and I own many
+that are unusually fine.... Gratify me in connection with my desire
+to see your friend in a similar condition to--that I just now had the
+privilege of witnessing! Permit me to question him--and name your
+price! ... Do not be offended, I entreat!" the Egyptian pursued,
+warned by the flush on Katharine's cheek, and the frown that gathered
+on her forehead--"There may be something in which I can serve you....
+If so, command me.... I ask no more! ..."
+
+He changed his tone as John Hazel returned, accompanying Lady
+Wastwood and Mrs. Hazaël.
+
+"I mentioned to you a little previously that--several years
+ago,--your late brother, Captain Forbis, honoured my poor house at
+Ismailia by being my guest. May I hope that you will similarly
+honour me? The gardens are really worth seeing.... Though the
+house, naturally, does not boast the interest attaching to this...."
+
+"You are most kind, Essenian Pasha," Katharine returned, somewhat
+hesitatingly, conscious on the one hand of the insolence of the
+native who had presumed to offer her a bribe, painfully sensible, on
+the other, of the fact that Julian's freedom possibly depended on the
+co-operation of this unspeakably objectionable man. "But the time at
+my own disposal being so exceedingly limited, it would be impossible
+to give you a date."
+
+"My profound regrets!" He bowed from the hips with his acquired
+French elegance. "Though I hope that a day will come yet when you
+will consent to honour me! Most of the beautiful English ladies who
+have visited our country have praised the house and garden.... Must
+the dwelling be darkened, and the trees about it wither, because
+denied the presence of the most beautiful of all! ..."
+
+The flourishing Eastern hyperbole was delivered with Essenian's
+velvety softness, and accompanied by a display of glittering eyes and
+teeth. And Katharine, stifling her acute dislike as might best be
+managed, thanked the Egyptian in some formal phrase of polite regret
+and gratitude--cut short as John Hazel returned accompanying Trixie
+and Mrs. Hazaël, by the less formal utterances of leave-taking....
+Mrs. Hazaël, in taking Katharine's offered hand, made the slight
+curtsey appropriate to Royalty. And Katharine, as she bent to kiss
+the little lady's cheek, was conscious that Essenian's strange eyes
+leapt out of their drowsy languor into glittering curiosity.
+
+She had longed to give John Hazel another hearty hand-grip, to have
+whispered another parting word,--but the Egyptian intervened....
+
+It was Essenian who conducted Miss Forbis to the car, a palatial
+Daimler of huge size, enamelled black and violent red; overloaded
+with solid silver and ivory fittings; lined with primrose satin
+brocade upholstery, and driven by a handsome Italian chauffeur.
+
+"How gorgeous! And in what native taste!" cried Trixie, delightedly
+as the springy yellow cushions received her. "And does it belong to
+the Egyptian Flying Officer--the little, purring Pasha with the
+extraordinary eyes? I shall call him 'The Basilisk' because he
+reminds me of one!"
+
+They had quitted the dust and racket of the city, and as they passed
+through the Rosetta Gate, and out upon the Aboukir Road, and were in
+the quiet suburbs on the east, near the European cemetery, Katharine
+rose and looked back, and gave a cry of admiration. For
+Alexandria,--with her domes and minarets and huge square blocks of
+modern buildings,--bathed in the rose and amber light of an Egyptian
+sunset--was beautiful with something of the beauty of the Past....
+
+"That is something to have seen," Katharine said with a sigh, as she
+dropped back on the springy primrose cushions. "Thank you, dear Lady
+Wastwood, for a wonderful afternoon! You have been happy, haven't
+you?"
+
+"Quite amused," Lady Wastwood answered. "And if I haven't been quite
+happy, well, then neither have you!"
+
+She moved nearer to Katharine, and took her hand, and patted it,
+affection mingling with solicitude in the green eyes that questioned
+the face of her friend.
+
+"I won't make pretences to you, dear Commandant," Katharine returned
+after an instant's hesitation. "I have cause to be happy, and cause
+to be anxious. And the anxiety weighs so heavily that Happiness
+kicks the beam."
+
+Trixie patted her hand again, and said as the car bowled along the
+Aboukir Canal Road with its charming country villas shaded by palms
+and casuarina-groves:
+
+"If I can help in any way, you promise--you will let me? Won't treat
+me like a stranger--will give me the chance I'd like.... To show you
+that I don't forget--what I can never speak of, but what I live
+through in my dreams--nearly every night! Promise! For I am a
+lonely woman, Kathy dear, though I keep my end up and don't go round
+howling for sympathy!--and I am truly fond of you."
+
+"I promise, dear friend. And I would tell you now what the trouble
+is--because I trust you absolutely--where I myself am concerned! But
+I am not free to give away the confidence of another."
+
+"Meaning the Jew Colossus with the great hooked nose," said Trixie
+mentally. And Katharine went on:
+
+"You're looking better. You've not had that dream of late. Probably
+because it has done you good--sleeping in the open."
+
+For Lady Wastwood and Miss Forbis shared one of the roomy
+sleeping-tents in the grounds of the Palace, distinguished from other
+similar groups as the "V.A.D's Annexe."
+
+"I shall hate it when the rains come and drive us back indoors,"
+Trixie responded. "And to-night at any rate I shan't dream of
+shipwreck,--I shall dream of The Basilisk! That man gives me cold
+shivers all down my spinal column. Why, I couldn't exactly explain.
+Some people have a horror of cats--the gentlest and most faithful
+pets to those who love and understand them. Others simply abominate
+dogs--I'm not keen on them myself! But my feeling for the little
+Pasha isn't one of those mild antipathies. Shall I tell you what
+those basilisk eyes of his keep saying to me? No!--it's all
+right--the chauffeur can't hear! They say: 'My dear lady--I'm a
+wealthy Gyppo Notability, esteemed an Ace of Aces in the hand of the
+R.F.C.... I've a chestful of decorations--all earned brilliantly.
+_But my Mother was a Tigress--and my Father was a Snake!_ ...'"
+
+"_Est ce que les dames feront un petit tour en campagne, ou
+retourneront elles directement à l' Hôpital?_"
+
+"Will the ladies take a little tour in the country, or return
+directly to the Hospital?"
+
+The question, asked in French through the speaking-tube fixed above
+the seat in front of them, made Katharine and the Commandant start.
+Briefly informed of the ladies' desire, the Italian turned the car
+upon the sanded road curving past the Khedivial Palace; and after
+half-a-dozen miles, swept round in a northward curve and presently
+was climbing a gradient between the orchards of peach and apricot
+trees, the fig-groves and pine-woods and gardens of beautiful
+Montana, gleaming like a fairy palace of rosy mother o' pearl in the
+fires of the sunset; on the square green promontory at whose
+shoreward base break the pearl and sapphire surges of the Western Sea.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+"The name of Forbes is common enough in your North Britain--the name
+of Forbis sufficiently unusual, to put me on the scent. And--one
+looks for the lady in these affairs!" purred Essenian, as he left the
+house in the Rue el Farad with John Hazel--profiting by the coolness
+of the evening to walk to the Aviators' Club. "Let me add, your
+taste is unimpeachable. I have never seen a handsomer Englishwoman
+than your friend."
+
+Now he pursued, in his smooth, book-learned English, drawing out a
+platinum cigarette case--opening and offering it to John:
+
+"Take one. The Macedonian leaf failed last year, but not so the
+crops of Shiraz, grown and ripened side by side with the
+purple-petalled afiyûn. You perhaps may not know this Club..." he
+added a little later, as they entered the wide, cool vestibule of a
+handsome granite building in Sherif Pasha Street. "No! Well, I
+anticipated you would not! ... Originally an association of mere
+amateur civilians, meeting periodically to exchange experiences--the
+Club has become,--since Government took over our aërodrome and
+hangars--you know them!--near the Water Works due east of Aboukir
+Road--a resort for Flying Officers of all grades and branches of the
+Service.... Since then, if much more social--we are a damnable lot
+more noisy and a good deal less exclusive.... Still, our Club
+remains distinguished by its European comfort, and its excellent
+_cuisine_!"
+
+The dining-room into which a demure Levantine waiter ushered Essenian
+and his companion, was perfectly ventilated by electric appliances,
+and open along the whole of one side towards a sanded court
+containing a fountain, a great many long cane-chairs and several
+palms; and of the many small tables dotted over the spotless matting
+covering the floor, the majority were empty, though apparently
+reserved for diners. A few were already occupied. With the men who
+sat at them,--officers of the R.F.C. from the land-stations in the
+neighbourhood, and others of the R.N.A.S. from the sea-plane-stations
+at Ramleh, Port Said, Wara in the Delta,--and the seaplane-carrier
+anchored at the moment in the Port, Essenian exchanged nods and
+salutes of smiling courtesy. Several of the younger men stood up to
+greet him--though none approached the table where the Egyptian airman
+sat with a long-legged private of Territorials, wearing the badges of
+a London Regiment....
+
+The temperature of the room approximated to that of London in July,
+thanks to the incessant movement of the wooden ceiling-fans. The
+dinner began excellently, with _hors d'œuvres_ of giant prawns,
+miniature cucumbers and fresh olives, and a shell-fish of delicate
+flavour, served on miniature mountains of finely pounded ice. A
+Comet hock accompanied, and a clear soup was succeeded by a _turban
+de turbot_, perfectly cooked, and a curry of tiny whitebait-like fish
+from the Canal.
+
+Roast lamb and duckling followed, both of remarkable succulence, and
+John Hazel, who had lived for weeks on bully-beef and onions, tough
+Palestine goat-mutton, and slabby rice-pudding speckled with the
+bodies of defunct flies,--having--in the unavoidable absence of
+these--cheerfully battened on iron rations, the bottom of a tin of
+jam and a handful of sticky dates,--yielded now to the immemorial
+allure of the Egyptian fleshpots; and attacking dish after dish with
+the ferocity of an ogre, slaked his huge thirst with repeated
+draughts of the well-iced champagne supplied....
+
+The magnificent red roses massed in a crystal and silver rose-bowl in
+the centre of their table, and the gratification of satisfying the
+hunger that raged in him, prevented him from grasping a fact to which
+he awakened later,--when quail from Upper Egypt with egg-plant and
+quince salad, and snipe from the marshes of the Delta succeeded the
+lamb and duckling, and he paused to gather breath.... For Essenian
+sat smiling on the other side of the roses, before unused cutlery and
+silver, and an array of wine-glasses innocent of wine.
+
+"My hat! Pasha, what must you think of me?" John began, nearly
+dropping the fork and spoon that were lifting a plump quail from the
+offered dish: "This ain't your Ramadan, is it, by any chance? No, of
+course, that comes in May. Has anything put you off your feed, or
+don't you ever eat?"
+
+"Have no anxiety on my account, my King of Damascus," returned
+Essenian, narrowing his long eyes as he smiled upon his guest: "I am
+well, and that I continue so, I owe to precautions which may seem
+absurd to you. But every advantage we enjoy in this world has to be
+purchased--and I purchase vigour and health at the expense of my
+appetite.... Pray do justice to the quail, while I follow my usual
+rule."
+
+He clapped his hands, and an Egyptian body-servant, who had stood
+immovable in the background, holding a silver tray, moved noiselessly
+forwards and set before Essenian a goblet of crystal and a
+long-necked crystal beaker;--together with some small covered dishes
+of delicate porcelain, revealing when the covers were lifted--nothing
+beyond a few fresh dates, a small, snow-white cream cheese, and a
+delicate napkin, enveloping a round cake of bread.
+
+"Distilled water and freshly-gathered fruit, with bread of the purest
+sesame-flour.... Of these, in limited quantity, I may eat twice in
+the day. Preferably, at dawn, and after sunset; though by religion I
+am no more Moslem than I am a Christian," said Essenian, daintily
+filling the crystal goblet, "or a Parsi, or a Hindu, or a Buddhist,
+or a Jew...." He broke bread.... "What is this? ..." He turned
+with feline suddenness on the dusky servant who stood behind him, and
+said harshly, speaking in Arabic: "There is error! The sesame has
+been mingled with wheaten-flour. It is impure.... I cannot eat of
+it! ... Take it away at once...."
+
+"_La yâ Sidi--Allâh yisallimak!_" the man protested, paling under his
+chocolate skin.
+
+But Essenian had sniffed the bread-cake remotely and delicately as a
+fox might sniff at some slily-poisoned titbit, and now replaced it on
+the dish, and thrust the dish away....
+
+"Carry it to the cook and inquire into the matter!" He said to
+Hazel, as the servant removed the dish and vanished straightway: "Do
+not be disturbed on my account! To one so well schooled in
+abstinence as myself, it would matter little if the meal consisted
+only of dates. Mixed in a draught of this pure water, a few drops of
+an excellent tonic (to the virtues of which I am a living testimony)
+will more than supply the deficiency.... Meanwhile, do not neglect
+our _chef's_ excellent _omelette soufflée_. Or the _bombe glace_ of
+custard-apple on which he prides himself.... And then--since I know
+better than to offer cheese to a man who has been 'fed to the wide,'
+with that as an article of Army rations,--I will join you in a cup of
+Arabian coffee, black, thick and bitter as the nectar of Mocha should
+be."
+
+He took from a front pocket of his Service jacket a little case of
+shining yellow metal, and opening it, showed three slender crystal
+vials, reposing in a velvet bed. He unstoppered one,--tinging the
+air laden with the savour of meats and viands--with a whiff of
+something delicately pungent--rather suggesting the fragrance of
+lemon-plant to John.... Then with dainty, scrupulous care, he
+dropped seven drops into the goblet of distilled water; re-stoppered
+the vial, wiped the lip with a green leaf, returned the vial to its
+bed, and pocketed the case,--watching through narrowed eyelids the
+turbid changes taking place in the clear liquid, until as it deepened
+from cloudy red to clearest ruby, he glanced across the rose-bowl to
+encounter Hazel's eyes....
+
+"A pretty colour, is it not?" he said critically, holding up the
+goblet. "Now I will drink, and you must join me. I hope you do not
+find fault with our Club champagne? ..." He continued, signing to
+the attendant, who stood ready with another napkined bottle: "That
+you have been drinking came from von Falkenhayn's Headquarters in
+Transylvania,--when we bombed him out of them in the summer of
+1916.... That defeat of the Vulkan Pass must have been a crushing
+blow to the Emperor's magnificent favourite,--coming after the
+tremendous failure of the Second Attack on Verdun."
+
+To the rout of the Vulkan Pass, John knew, Essenian's prowess had
+contributed. When Roumania had joined the Allies in the August of
+1916, and massed her Army on the Carpathian frontier for an invasion
+of Transylvania, Essenian had acted as Wing Commander of a squadron
+of Allied Aircraft, acting in concert with a Roumanian Army
+Corps,--and for his services had been distinguished with the Order of
+the Roumanian Crown. At Salonika, later on,--for the first time
+meeting Essenian--John had encountered the French observer who had
+accompanied the Egyptian's flights.
+
+"They are greatly strong in artillery, the Austro-Germans of von
+Falkenhayn! ... We are not so.... The Roumanians are only strong in
+men. As we march on they retreat,--for two weeks it is a triumph....
+Then their von Falkenhayn gives the signal, and their guns begin to
+play on us.... I who speak have been under fire!--was I not in the
+advanced trenches at Verdun with my storming-party, before I joined
+the _Service Aëronautique_! But this was super-gunnery--a torrent of
+steel and fire and German High Explosive, sweeping--as with the
+Devil's broom--the mountain-passes clear! All through October
+continues the fight--every day we are flying! In fog, and rain--zut!
+rain of shrapnel and fog of poison-gas--we never cease to fly....
+When we are not observing--we are bombing! Or making more rain on
+the Austro-German Divisions--a rain of steel _flechettes_! Me, I am
+no coward! but whenever M. Essenian Pasha says to me: 'Prunier, this,
+day or night, my friend, you accompany me in my _avion_....' I say
+to myself as we used to say with my storming-party at Verdun: '_Ça va
+barda, mon ami! Prepare ton matricule!_' For M. le Major will fly
+with a broken wing, or a bullet through the petrol-tank, and all the
+juice running! ... _C'est un as!_ ... He puts in me the fear of
+God--that man who has none at all! ..."
+
+Meanwhile Essenian ate of dates and cheese sparingly, sipped his
+tonic drink appreciatively, and waited for the man on the other side
+of the crimson roses to talk.
+
+"Here is the port." He added as the servant filled Hazel's glass
+from a cobwebbed and ancient-looking bottle: "Don't drink yet. Let
+us follow the ancient fashion, the first glass of the bottle to a
+lady's health! ... I propose: 'The beautiful Miss Forbis! ...' What,
+do you break the glass?"--for John had nodded, and his huge brown
+fingers had snapped the stem of the wineglass like a match-stick as
+they set it, emptied, down. "Take a fresh one,--finish the
+bottle,--and meanwhile try those cheroots.... Or the
+others--excellent Havanas, though I smoke cigarettes for my own part,
+or else the water-pipe--our Egyptian _ârgili_. Ah, here is the
+coffee," said Essenian pleasantly, as the Egyptian servant previously
+dismissed, re-appeared at his elbow with another tray. "Black as the
+eyes and perfumed as the breath of the brides who lead the sons of
+Islam into the green pavilions of Paradise. Though," he smiled
+amiably at John over the cigarette he was lighting, as the attendant
+removed the empty bottle and placed a flask of Benedictine with the
+coffee beside the guest--"your personal predilection leans to
+something statelier and less seductive than the gazelle-eyed,
+moon-faced _haura_ of the glorious Koran.... What says our Saadi:
+'The tresses of Beautiful Ones are chains upon the Feet of Prudence,
+and a snare upon the wings of the Bird of Wisdom..... We Easterners
+hardly credit the existence of Friendship between those of opposite
+sexes," pursued the Egyptian, letting the sentences trickle over his
+smooth lips as though they had been honey, "and yet, subsisting
+between an intellectual man, and a mentally-superior woman, it may be
+productive of more lasting gratification than the merely sensual tie."
+
+"What are you getting at, Essenian Pasha?" asked his guest, bluntly.
+
+Essenian had paused as though inviting a reply, and this was the
+response forthcoming. A faint line showed between his smooth black
+eyebrows and his tones were less sweet and liquid as he resumed:
+
+"But this,--that such a union between man and woman might lead to
+great discoveries--in those psychological regions which we are
+beginning to explore. Two such adventurers, mutually keen, mutually
+gifted with spiritual perception, bound by sympathies unblunted by
+the earthly passion of love, might pass back along paths long buried
+beneath the _débris_ of extinct civilisations--trodden by the
+footsteps of generations who went before them, to the furthermost
+limits of the Mysterious Unknown."
+
+He waited. This latest opening proved no whit more successful than
+others previously given. John Hazel continued to drink, and smoke,
+and answered nothing. To pry out the diamond hidden in this lump of
+living clay,--to wrench open the rugged valves of this human mollusc
+housing the pearl of priceless knowledge,--was going to be more
+difficult than Essenian had thought....
+
+"Your friend, Miss Forbis," he resumed, and now the heavy eyes were
+on him, "strikes me as possessing an unusual degree of psychic force
+and energy, in combination with her remarkable physical beauty and
+charm. That she is less handsome than her brother, one would be
+disinclined to credit, were her own testimony not corroborated by the
+evidence of T.R.S. 43."
+
+"And who might the gentleman you mention be, and what the--what does
+he know about it?" demanded John Hazel, regarding his host with a
+decided scowl, and speaking in an aggressive tone.
+
+"T.R.S. is a Turkish Renegade Spy whom I recently met and interviewed
+at the B.S.I. Office Ismailia," returned Essenian smoothly, "on a
+subject of vital interest to your attractive English friend....
+'Describe,' I said, 'this British priest who lies in prison at
+Shechem,' and the man answered '_Mashallah!_' Describe the Archangel
+Jibrail when he came from the Ninth Heaven to announce to Mary the
+Pure One the Miraculous Birth of the Messiah--between Whom and the
+touch of Satan, at the moment of His Nativity--the Lord of Creation
+interposed a veil!' He was quite serious--Turks are idolaters of
+physical perfection.... Incidentally, he wound up with a few details
+concerning the--disposition, and predilections distinguishing the
+Turkish Lieutenant-General of gendarmerie who is at present
+Commandant of the Prison Camp at Shechem,--which throw a rather lurid
+light upon the conditions there...."
+
+He chafed his delicate finger-tips softly against each other as he
+leaned both elbows on the cloth and smiled over the roses into
+Hazel's gloomy eyes.
+
+"Hamid is a--let us say a protégé of the notorious Djemal Pasha, once
+Turkish Minister of Marine--now Commander of the Fourth and Eighth
+Turkish Army Corps. Of mean birth, a Turk from Crete--he bids fair
+to out-Djemal Djemal.... I need not remind you that Crete is--the
+country of the Minotaur! ..."
+
+The speaker's beryl eyes shone green in the light of the electric
+globe-lamps. His voice had a little poisonous hiss through its
+delicate silkiness.
+
+"Since the prison camps of Beersheba were shifted to Shechem, their
+Commandant has a narrower field for the exercise of his peculiar
+bent.... According to my Turkish spy, he has what you would call 'a
+down' upon your friend's brother,--whose refusal to be removed from
+the Barracks to the wired camp set apart for the officer-prisoners
+has offended the Bey.... Perhaps the presence of the priest is a
+check upon his usage of the soldiers, whom Father Forbis nurses in
+fever and other sickness, and for whom he has obtained consular funds
+for the purchase of medicines, charcoal for fires, meat for broth,
+and so on...."
+
+He satisfied himself by a swift glance that John was absorbed in
+listening, and resumed: "Turks are--Turks!" He made as though to
+spit, but checked himself, and went on: "You have said to me: 'We
+Hazaëls have an old score to settle up with Hamid....' Two years
+have not changed the Bey. He is still the Minotaur! ... And unless
+Fortune, or," he shrugged "the favour of Heaven, operate in the
+interests of this brother of your friend, his may yet be the fate
+from which self-slaughter saved your Cousin Jacob--Catholics being
+forbidden that last resource of the desperate.... Escape from
+torture or degradation by the Gate of Suicide...."
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+Drifting down a sluggish stream of drowsy after-dinner reflections;
+brooding between a bellyful of varied meats, and a brain addled with
+wine;--lost to the guiding, dominant idea of the Big Old Men, ranged
+one behind the other like a sculptured procession of Assyrian
+planet-gods, reaching back to the Beginning of Actualities whence
+looked down the Biggest Old Man of All--John Hazel had been recalled
+as suddenly as though a 5.9 shell had exploded in the Club courtyard,
+and starting to his feet, upset the chair he had sat on; its
+fall--with the crash of a breaking glass--making the men at other
+tables look round.
+
+"_In peril such as this, and you sit here drowsing!_"
+
+It rang in Hazel's singing ears--the voice of the worshipped woman.
+And in a moment the gorged Sybarite was gone. With a curt apology he
+resumed the chair the Club attendant had picked up and now replaced
+for him. A cool, resourceful man, instinct with force and energy,
+sat looking at Essenian across the rose-filled bowl.
+
+"If things are as desperate as you've said, why not have told me?
+Let's thrash this out, Essenian Pasha, please!"
+
+"With pleasure, but I must first know how Miss Forbis discovered that
+her brother was living. For that she knows, in spite of her very
+remarkable reticence,--was plain to me to-day. Was it you who broke
+that news to her? ..."
+
+"No ... She told me! ..."
+
+"When? ..."
+
+"This afternoon! ..."
+
+"That is curious! ..." The tone was incredulous.... "Through whom
+did she learn the fact?"
+
+"Couldn't enlighten you! ..."
+
+"How long has she known? ..."
+
+"I'm unable to say! ..."
+
+Scrutinising his guest between narrowed eyelids, sifting the
+unwilling replies with inquisitorial care, it was patent to Essenian
+that John knew, but would not tell. He tried again with no better
+result.
+
+"Has Miss Forbis by any unlucky chance, embarked--any other
+person--in an effort to rescue her brother from the prison at
+Shechem?"
+
+This time John flatly lied:
+
+"No! ..."
+
+"That is well. I should certainly withdraw from the attempt if its
+success were to be so handicapped."
+
+"Handicap or none, whether you withdraw or not, I'm entered for the
+running!"
+
+"I did not say that I withdrew. On the contrary!"
+
+"Good egg you! Now--"
+
+John poured out a brimming glass of iced mineral water, emptied it,
+and finished as he set down the empty glass:
+
+"How far is Shechem from Ismailia?"
+
+"Following the old Pilgrim's route overland--a distance of about 232
+English miles. As the crow flies--or as I shall fly"--Essenian
+smiled--"about 195 miles...."
+
+"Thanks. When can we start? ..."
+
+"For Shechem? ..."
+
+"For Shechem! ..."
+
+"That depends!" said Essenian with his titter, as John glanced at his
+wrist-watch, and then at the elaborate clock,--mounted in captured
+German gun-metal--that occupied a bracket over the door of the
+dining-room: "That depends on your readiness to accept my conditions!
+..."
+
+"'Conditions'? You wait till now to talk of conditions!"
+
+The black eyes were full on Essenian, and they had an angry stare.
+
+"I have purposely waited until now! ..."
+
+The cool, sinister strength that lay behind Essenian's veneer of
+finical affectation, came home to Hazel as it had not previously.
+This was the Essenian of his French observer-mechanic, the man who
+had flown with a broken wing-stay, and a leaking petrol-tank, through
+the hellish Austro-German fire in the battle of the Vulkan Pass.
+
+"To push an advantage, consolidate a position and advance to a point
+beyond is the science of warfare, and the secret of social influence.
+Shall we discuss these conditions in my private room upstairs--or
+would you prefer to stay here?"
+
+John, looking round, saw no occupied table in their near vicinity,
+and grunted surlily:
+
+"Here's good enough for me! ..."
+
+"My own experience supports your view.... Here is quite good
+enough.... For the arrangement of the details of a plot, for the
+carrying-out of a delicate and dangerous discussion, the ideal place
+is--under the electric lights in the middle of a drawing-room, in the
+stalls at a theatre--in the dining-room of a Club or restaurant, or
+in the Throne Room at a Royal Levée...."
+
+"Then let us get to biz. You've sprung a surprise on me--at the last
+minute...." John added, fixing his heavy black stare on the gleaming
+green eyes of the tiger-snake ambushed behind the roses;
+"Still,--trot out your conditions! ... How much do you want in cash?
+..."
+
+"You are rude, Mr. Hazel.... But the young are always insolent!"
+Essenian gave the little bleating laugh. "I want no money of you....
+Rather I am what the British merchant would call a warmer man than
+you are, in spite of the fact that you inherited from your
+grandfather more than three hundred and eighty thousand pounds...."
+
+"Upon conditions, Pasha! upon conditions!" jeered John, grinning over
+the table; and roused to sudden venomous wrath, Essenian hissed at
+him--leaning over the crimson flower-hedge until his fierce breath
+beat on the other's face:
+
+"Do I not know you have accepted those conditions? ... Are you not
+living--in some degree--in your grandfather's house as a Jew? ...
+Have you not the letter 'J' instead of 'Nil' on your
+identification-disc? ... Do you not wear upon a chain about your neck
+an enamelled Shield of David? If you die, or are killed--will they
+not bury you, if anything be left of you to bury--under the Mogen
+David as they bury a Jew?"
+
+The sudden transformation of the languid, smiling oval into a face of
+bitter fury evoked a sudden flash of intuition that made Hazel say:
+
+"You seem to know something about it.... Do you happen to be Hebrew
+yourself by any chance? ..."
+
+"You are perspicuous." The face was bland again. "I am in fact
+descended from an ancient Israelitish family of Elephantis. Not all
+the sons of the Tribes followed the Law-giver out of Egypt. Many had
+grown to love the land and--its many gods were good to them.... So
+they stayed and prayed to the many, instead of following the One...."
+
+"I know. Lots of shirkers stopped behind to make bricks for Pharaoh,
+and to-day their descendants are laying sleepers, or digging
+trenches, or piling shells for the good old British Government."
+
+"You have perfectly mastered the shibboleth of loyalty, Mr.
+Hazel...." The dark lips curled contemptuously. "I congratulate
+you! But it is hardly necessary to maintain the pose. There is no
+third person present, and I speak as an Asiatic to an Asiatic, as a
+Hebrew to a Jew.... For many years I have served the British
+Government in our East. These," he touched the rows of ribbons on
+his tunic, "testify to the truth of what I say. While Britain's aims
+and my own interests are synonymous, I shall continue to serve
+her...."
+
+"I should jolly well hope so! It's a cleaner job than plotting for
+the Kaiser's dirty pay."
+
+"And a more profitable--for Germany is finished. A burst bladder,
+like her sister State with whom she hoped to dominate the world. The
+sun of Russia sets in a morass of blood and mire and filth
+unutterable.... Britain and France have reached their apogee of
+greatness, and must now inevitably decline. The Ottoman Empire
+fights to her fall. From the Farther East the Power will arise that
+will sweep armies like straws before it--and entangle the necks of
+the Northern nations within its weighted throwing-net! But of this
+another time. Let us come to my conditions.... Do not interrupt me
+until I have said my say! ... I am no Spiritualist--I laugh at those
+who bear the name as babes, who try to peep behind the curtain when
+the showman is admitted to the courtyard of the _harîm_ to amuse them
+with his Shadow Play of the puppet Kharaguz. But in Spiritism I
+believe.... Is it not the corner-stone of all revealed religions,
+that deep conviction of the existence of a World Unseen! ... I have
+myself made efforts--and not all unrewarded! to lift the border of
+the Veil that hides the Future--to pierce through the thick mists
+that screen the terrors of the Abyss Beyond...."
+
+Artificial as were ordinarily the speaker's tone and bearing, he
+spoke now, and looked like a man stirred to the very depths. His
+hands vibrated, Hazel thought, like the limbs of a weaving spider.
+He breathed quickly,--and a hundred lines, furrows and crowsfeet
+previously unnoticed, appeared crossing, re-crossing and puckering
+the dark skin of his agitated face....
+
+"Mediums and clairvoyants in the European capitals--have I not seen
+and heard them? With what result? This, that a few threads of
+truth, undeniable and genuine,--were woven into a tissue of lies!
+Seers and Descryers here in our East--with them I have fared better.
+They only practise for the Initiate--they scorn to prostitute their
+mystic gifts to the uses of the common herd. But by the
+greatest--one day you shall meet them!--never have I known done what
+you did to-day in my presence.... I mean--when you so marvellously
+supplied the context of that cuneiform letter, filling up with a
+bridge of Truth the gap between the Known and the Unknown.... How
+strange that Eli Hazaël never dreamed of your astonishing faculty!
+How wonderful, the combination in your person of the temperament of
+the clairvoyant with the physique of the athlete! ..."
+
+"Why keep on calling me a medium and clairvoyant when I'm nothing of
+the sort! When I tell you I've never dabbled in that sort of thing.
+And what is it--about the letter? Do you mean your translation of
+the wedge-writing on the tile in the cabinet, that you reeled off
+this afternoon? ..."
+
+The Egyptian's eyes stabbed at John's face out of deep caves that had
+suddenly hollowed about them. But he could not doubt the look and
+tone of absolute sincerity. He blinked and muttered:
+
+"You do not deceive.... You are speaking truth! ... By the Fire that
+burns without Heat or Smoke!--you are an extraordinary young man! ..."
+
+
+The room had gradually emptied about them: they sat in a desert of
+unoccupied tables, from whose cloths soft-footed Levantine and native
+waiters were clearing wineglasses, coffee-cups and empty
+liqueur-bottles,--decanters, fruit-dishes, plates, and ash-trays full
+of burned matches, and the stubs of cigars and cigarettes....
+
+"You have not sought the terrible Gift--yet it has come to you. You
+are not of the Baal Obh, who evoke the voices of departed spirits
+from corpses and mummies--or of the Yideoni, who utter oracles and
+prophesy, by putting into their mouths a dead man's bone. You are a
+Teraph--a living Teraph--not the head of a first-born of a
+first-born--prepared with salt and spices, having under the tongue a
+gold plate on which magical formulas have been engraven.... And it
+is she, the handsome Englishwoman, who controls the Man and the
+Power! Who says to your mind, as the Chinese fisherman says to the
+tamed cormorant: 'Dive!' ... And at the command you vanish into the
+Unguessable!--you return, carrying in your pouch a fish from the Sea
+on which swims the Serpent that bears up the Throne...."
+
+He drew towards him an unused plate, reached with a shaking hand for
+the part-emptied port-bottle, poured a little into a glass, and
+dipping in a finger, rapidly traced in thick red wine upon the
+shining white porcelain a square, divided into nine smaller by
+horizontal and perpendicular lines....
+
+"Dastûr. By your Permission, ye Blessed Ones!" John heard him
+mutter, as he scattered a drop or two of wine at each corner of the
+figure and filled in the squares with numerals.
+
+"What are you up to, Essenian Pasha?" John leaned across
+interestedly. "Looks to me like hanky-panky of the Egyptian Hall
+kind."
+
+"It is the Budûh of el Gazzali, a figure much used in our East. Only
+instead of letters I am using numerals. Tell me, my friend--for of
+course you are acquainted with it--what is the month, and the day,
+and the hour, of the English lady's birth? ..."
+
+"Damned if I know! ..."
+
+"How can I believe you do not know, when she is so intimate a friend
+that she wears a facsimile of the onyx gem that is on your hand now?
+..."
+
+"Why she has it I couldn't say.... It's an heirloom in her
+family.... Now cough up your conditions, for I've waited long
+enough. What do you want me to do in return for taking me somewhere
+near the Prison Camp at Shechem, dropping me and picking me up--at a
+given hour--with another man in tow? ..."
+
+"Consent to be again--for me--as you were in the Rue el Farad." The
+Egyptian obliterated the figure on the plate with a sweep of three
+fingers, pushed the plate contemptuously from him and sat erect in
+his chair. "Use your power--pass behind the Veil as you did this
+afternoon. Here as you sit at this table--it can easily be managed.
+For one half-hour!--" He pointed to the round-faced gun-metal
+timepiece solemnly ticking over the dining-room door. "A quarter
+even--calculated by that clock...."
+
+"But haven't I already told you that's all tosh about my being
+clairvoyant? ... Can't--"
+
+"_Muakkad_! Yes, you have told me, but I have eyes and ears....
+Think, O man! ..." Both supple hands darted at John over the
+roses.... "Lord of the Daystar! cannot you understand? Would it be
+no help to the success of this expedition if I were able to send you
+in advance to the Camp at Shechem? A spy no sentry can arrest--no
+walls keep out, no bullet silence.... Who hears--sees all and
+remains invisible as the Afrit who flies by noonday, or the Angel who
+witnesses sin!"
+
+"But you.... Where do you come in? What's your particular little
+stunt, Essenian Pasha?" The voice was heavily, oppressively
+surcharged with suspicion and doubt....
+
+"I will tell you, you who suspect one who has served you and eaten
+and drunk with you. This is the year of Fate for me, this of the
+Hejira 1335--by the Kalendars of the Ifranjis 1917. This coming
+First of Safar--their November Sixteenth--is the beginning of the
+month of my dread.... All may yet be well with me--for who knows his
+danger is armed against it. And to have lived as I have is to have
+learned to value Life! Only a few years more to wait until great
+chemists have grown wiser.... A little, little span of years,--and
+Man, created but to perish, will have done away with Sickness and
+abolished Old Age,--and finally conquered the Enemy, Death....
+Listen! ... I cannot be killed whilst flying--the Signs are all
+against it. But in a year that has its birth in el Dali and el
+Jadi--in a month that has the signs Akrab, and of the planets
+Mirih,--I am in danger from a man and a woman. Peril had threatened
+me the other day, when I dropped down in the midst of your lines--and
+its source had been removed and my breast was broadened.... But the
+Shadow still broods--the Finger points--and I must know who these Two
+are--the people who menace me!"
+
+"What happened before you landed in our lines, Essenian Pasha?"
+John's interest had been prodded into life by the previous reference.
+"Three days ago--or about--when the Turkish Anti-Aircraft guns
+peppered you over--Hebron, wasn't it?--and Captain Usborn was
+killed.... You see, I've been wanting to ask you about that poor
+bloke. How did he get his gruel? ..."
+
+"How?" The crouching khaki figure sat erect and the snaky eyes
+glittered angrily. "You saw the corpse.... You handled it. A
+shrapnel bullet killed him. And it was not at Hebron it
+happened,--but at Shechem."
+
+"That's odd! ... You said Shechem at first.... And--it wasn't a
+shrapper! ..."
+
+"What do you mean? ..." The voice was a snarl.
+
+"Well, you see, I've got the bullet...."
+
+"Where? ..."
+
+"Here.... In my pocket.... And--the queer thing is--it's a
+revolver-bullet. Not a German--it isn't nickel-coated. Might have
+come from an English Webley of ordinary Army size."
+
+"Show it me!"
+
+John produced and handed over the little blunted cone of metal. The
+deadly cold of the dry finger-tips that touched his in taking it
+reminded him uncomfortably of the contact of a snake. He watched as
+they turned the bullet about, and then held out his hand for it.
+
+"You want this back again?" the harsh voice asked.
+
+"Rather, if you don't mind!--" John grinned. "It's my latest
+mascot." He took back the bullet, avoiding the other's touch, and
+dropped it in his pocket again.
+
+"How did you get it?" Avidly the sharp glance had followed the
+action. "How can you be certain--that it is the bullet that killed
+the man?"
+
+"I helped to lift--the body--out of the observer's cockpit, and mine
+was the head end...."
+
+"_Th' h h!_ ..."
+
+It was a sound like the hiss of a snake, betraying desperate interest.
+
+"He--Usborn--had been shot through the head.... There was a scorch
+on the left temple. On the right--a clot of brains and blood.
+And--when I took hold of his head the bullet came away with that, and
+dropped into my hand. That's curious, now I come to think of it ..."
+
+"What is curious?"
+
+"That burn on his left temple...."
+
+"Perhaps the bullet was incendiary. The Germans use such things."
+
+"You forget! I've got it--and it isn't!"
+
+"Ah!" The voice had recovered its suavity. "I am now able to
+account for its being a revolver-bullet. There were German officers
+on the defence-works at Shechem--that they have strengthened since
+the evacuation of Beersheba. And as they directed the gunners--we
+circling the while and reconnoitring--Usborn also photographing--they
+potted at us with their revolvers now and then...."
+
+"How high were you flying?"
+
+"A mile. I remember I looked at the indicator the moment before--it
+happened."
+
+"You're kidding, Essenian Pasha.... You know lots better than I do
+that the range of a revolver taking a bullet of this calibre would be
+barely 1,550 yards...."
+
+"_Wannebi!_" Foam stood on the writhing lips, and the veins on the
+back of the clenched hand that shook at John across the roses stood
+out against the bronze skin like knotted blue cords. "By the
+Prophet! though I am no son of his,--you, Hazel, tax my patience....
+Usborn is dead, and buried two marches from Sheria. Let us discuss
+the cause of his death when we have time to lose. Aid me to gain
+enlightenment as only you can aid me!--and I help you to rescue this
+Christian priest--this tonsured Franghi dervish--from the barbed-wire
+cage at the Prison Camp of Shechem. Is it agreed? Speak, for
+suspense devours my liver!"
+
+"All right." John glanced round at the clock over the door of the
+dining-room. "Nine-fifteen. I'm at your disposal till the long hand
+marks the half-past."
+
+"Give me time to get something I shall need from my room, and swallow
+a draught of stimulant." Essenian beckoned one of the Levantine
+waiters, gave a rapid order in his fluent French and clapped his
+hands for his own man.
+
+"_Saiyad_, I am here!" The Mohammedan body-servant who had waited,
+erect and immovable in the background appeared at his master's elbow.
+"What does my lord command?"
+
+"Go to the room where I sleep, and bring me the velvet case from the
+table at my bedside."
+
+"My lord has said," the man quavered, paling under his
+coffee-coloured skin, "that the low-born may not lay a hand upon the
+Eye of Radiance, but at peril of blasting as by fire from the skies!"
+
+"Unless thou art commanded. Go, and return in safety!"
+
+The servant vanished and Essenian commented, with his little
+contemptuous shrug:
+
+"Even as the beasts are the rough and unlettered. What says Shaikh
+Saadi in _The Garden of Roses_? I would quote the original,--but it
+may be you do not know Arabic sufficiently well to appreciate the
+pun."
+
+"Some play upon _wahish_ and _wahsh_, I suppose?" Hazel suggested,
+unexpectedly, as the servants stripped the table and fenced it round
+with screens. "What's your poison this time? Something extra
+special?" he inquired, as Essenian, with a shaking hand, drew his
+little case of medicines again from his pocket and half-filled a
+liqueur-glass from another of the vials it held.
+
+"Something I seldom need to take, my King of Damascus. Unless after
+severe physical exertion,--or unusual mental strain. To your health!
+_Sirrak!_"
+
+He swallowed the colourless, scentless contents of the liqueur-glass;
+drew a deep breath, squared his shoulders,--and under the surprised
+stare of John, became the man he had been....
+
+"That is good! Now we get to what you call 'biz.' ..." He was
+smiling again suavely as he took a shabby green velvet case from the
+willing hands of his servant, banished the man beyond the enclosure
+of the screens with a look and a brief order couched in the
+vernacular,--and placed the case carefully on the cleared table-cloth
+before his guest.
+
+"Fine stone! What is it?" John asked curiously.
+
+"A beryl, merely. Do not touch it with your finger lest the contact
+dim its brightness."
+
+Essenian had opened the case out flat upon the smooth white linen
+surface, disclosing a sphere of radiance, resting on the slender base
+of a little metal stand.
+
+"Sit easily in your chair," he went on; "rest your hands on either
+side of it.... Ah, I had forgotten! Where are those _mallâhe_?" He
+took a pile of common native glass salt-cellars from a corner of the
+table, where a demure-faced Levantine waiter had just placed them.
+"Raise yourself on the chair a little. So! Now sit down again."
+John complied, finding the seat rather higher than it had been
+before. "Now I place one of the _mallâhe_ under each leg of the
+table...." The table kicked four times gently. "Now the
+Earth-currents cannot deviate astral--or Other Influences--and the
+table is not too low. You are comfortable?"
+
+"Fairly cushy, thanks! ..."
+
+Dentists had asked John a similar question.
+
+"You are not nervous, Mr. Hazel? ..."
+
+"Why on earth should I be? ..."
+
+"There is no reason. Look at the beryl, and do not remove your eyes."
+
+"All right, I'm on! ... Mind! From the word 'Go!' fifteen minutes."
+
+"Fifteen minutes.... Look steadily in the beryl. Now give the word!"
+
+"Go! ..."
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+Resting a hand lightly on the table, on each side of the little
+cup-topped pedestal supporting the gleaming, spherical stone, John
+leaned forwards, steadily looking in it,--and the fold between his
+beetling eyebrows smoothed, and the spark of excitement that had
+kindled in his black eyes slowly smouldered out....
+
+He had gone much further than he meant to have done, but there had
+been no help for it. Katharine's desperate need of help, the more
+desperate need of Julian, had thrust him over the edge of this pit
+the astute Egyptian had dug. But whether Essenian were a wizard or a
+charlatan--and at moments John was inclined to the wizard idea--he
+had struck a bargain with the man, and he meant to stick to it. So
+he held himself motionless, breathing easily, letting his mind range
+whither it would, as he stared in the depths of the stone....
+
+He had thought it shallow, and it was unfathomably deep; clear, and
+it was opaquely green as sea-water.... And yet translucent as
+sea-water can be,--with smooth swirls and rounded folds below the
+jewelled surface--suggesting veils wrapped on veils, hiding some
+mystery....
+
+He checked an inclination to yawn. He was feeling sleepy and stoggy.
+To keep awake he clung to the details of a certain September evening
+in 1914. News had come that day to the office of the death of young
+Dannahill,--and he, John, had returned by taxi to the family
+roof-tree, to break to his mother and his brother Maurice--Maurice
+who was now piloting a Handley-Page bomb-carrier 'plane on the
+Western Front--the news that he, J.B.H.,--the John of the "Tubs" Club
+in Werkeley Street, the John who was a votary of "Tango" and
+Progressive Bridge; who talked knowingly of Russian Ballet, Musical
+Comedy and smart Revues; the John whose cherished ambition was to
+make a pile big enough to buy Covent Garden and turn it into a
+Pleasure City to be run on American lines--was going to the Front.
+
+He--the said J.B.H., had dined, and was comfortably full, after the
+lean weeks of bully beef and rubber-tough Palestine mutton.... And
+he had had a deuce of a lot of hock, of Heidseick Dry Monopole, and
+three, or was it five Benedictines with coffee, to take away the
+bitterness of that over-lauded Arab stuff....
+
+Enough, perhaps, to make an ordinary man squiffy, but J.B. Hazel was
+no ordinary man.... In fact, going by what Essenian Pasha said,--was
+that Essenian Pasha talking? ... Or whose was that voice, mumbling,
+mumbling.... Not in Arabic, of which John had a smattering, or in
+Hebrew--he knew a little Hebrew--
+
+In whatever language the voice was talking it was trying to push John
+over the brink of Things Normal, into the abyss of Things that are
+Not.
+
+The launch of a battleship at Portsmouth Dockyard, witnessed years
+previously, now came vividly back to the protagonist; a picture
+thrown by the passing moment upon the screen of Memory. As Royalty
+with mallet and chisel had severed the cord supporting the
+bow--weights, whose fall knocked away the last dog-shores propping
+the Dreadnaught, her vast steel hull had shuddered visibly.... The
+thin wind keening through her glassless upper port holes and along
+her vast unfitted decks--gaily beflagged, and speckled with
+adventurous human pigmies--had sounded as though she wept.... Then a
+hand had touched an electric stud--a bottle in a ribboned net had
+crashed against the cliff-like bows of grey-painted steel, figured
+with Roman numerals--and the giant, vibrating from stem to stern, had
+begun to slide down the well-greased slipway,--towards the
+oily-looking expanse of chill green water, speckled with floating
+chips and orange-peel--smoking with little drab-white curls of clammy
+Solent fog....
+
+And John Hazel was the ship ... the sinister, relentless will that
+thrust him down must be resisted.... He would not go! ... Had he not
+promised somebody called Katharine...
+
+Who was Katharine? ... He was rushing to the dreadful brink....
+Without the anticipated shock or jar, he glided smoothly over....
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+"The big Inglizi soldier is very drunk," a Levantine waiter--one of a
+silent group gathered near the dining-room door, whispered to a
+comrade behind the shoulder of Essenian's Mohammedan body-servant.
+"Hark, how he snores behind the screens!"
+
+"_I_ do not think the _tomi_ drunk," whispered a countryman of the
+Levantine's, speaking the same bastard Turkish-Egyptian dialect.
+"For when the Effendim called for sealing-wax I peeped between the
+screens, slily, and the Inglizi seemed to me more like one drugged
+with the smoke of henbane sprinkled on the embers of a charcoal
+fire.... Thus did he sit, with open eyes, staring into that thing
+that shines so.... And--and the eyes were empty as the eyes of a
+dead man--it was not good to look in them!"
+
+"O son of a Maghribi dog! What is that to thee?" Essenian's
+Mohammedan body-servant, who had overheard, hissed fiercely at the
+offender. "Since when hast thou found it good for thee or thy like
+to speak of the doings in this house! My lord and his guest confer
+together upon matters too high for thee. What has it to do with thee
+if they practise the _es Semiya?_ Do not persons of known probity
+work magic both White and Black--and cast nativities! Cudgel thy
+stupid wits and tell me how long since thou didst stop the clock
+there? ... 'An hour-and-a-half....' Watch now for the signal! ...
+When my lord's hand flickers between the screens, the weight is to be
+set a-wagging.... Have the _ôtomôbilyâ_ ready at the door--the
+Effendim travels with the Englishman this night to Ismailia--I, Yakub
+Ali, sitting in front with the _wûgâkgi_ who drives,--running on the
+solid earth made by Allah for the sons of Adam--instead of flying in
+the air like a Jinni of the Jann."
+
+
+
+
+_Book the Fourth:_ THE PASSING
+
+
+
+I
+
+In the Central Range of Western Palestine is an ancient Samaritan
+township, the Shechem of the Patriarchs. High set above shore-level,
+sheltered by mighty mountains on the North, East and South, looking
+down a wady beaten in by-gone days by the hoofs of the cavalry of
+Omri,--rutted by the silver and ivory chariot-wheels of King Ahab and
+Queen Jezebel,--across low, undulant hill-ranges, to the twenty-mile
+distant sea.
+
+High set above sea-level, it lies on the floor of a long, fish-shaped
+valley, between two towering limestone mountains. Distant a
+mile-and-a-half at their summits, their bases nearly meet. One is
+Ebal, the other Gerizim. They are the mounts by which the Chosen
+stood to receive blessings and cursings.
+
+The Samaritan Temple, that place of sinister mysteries, once stood
+where are now great terebinth-trees, shading the ruins of an ancient
+fortress upon Mount Gerizim. The rock of their Place of Sacrifice
+shows its channelled surface above ground. To-day, a man standing
+with the wind at his back, upon the crown of Ebal or Gerizim and
+speaking loudly, would be heard at the summit of the opposite Mount,
+and in the streets of the town....
+
+The town, upon which the towering limestone heads of Ebal and Gerizim
+and their fellows look down sternly, was in its heyday a place of
+wealth, where luxury and lust ran riot, and men and women walked in
+purple robes, or were carried in ivory litters; crowned with high
+jewelled head-dresses, dust of gold powder lying thick in the spiral
+curls of their jet black beards, and the frizzled waves or towering
+coils of richly-luxuriant hair. Now their ancient place of abiding
+is set about with ruinous stone mansions, girt with groves of waving
+palms, fig-trees, olives and mulberries. Mean dwellings crowd on
+narrow vaulted streets, under whose pavement you can hear the water
+rushing. For there is no lack of water in Shechem. The crowded mud
+Barracks behind the bazar has a well of pure water in its courtyard.
+So cheap is the element that no one grudges this solace to the
+prisoners of War.
+
+Before the War the chief seat of the Turkish administration in
+Palestine, the old town boasted a population of some 25,000 souls.
+Thinned by conscription of the younger Jews, Samaritans, Arabs and
+native Syrian Christians, it might have contained some fifteen
+thousand, counting the garrison of Turkish infantry officered by
+monocled and braceleted Germans,--when the fortified area of
+Beersheba fell to the strategy of Allenby, and the routed left wing
+of the Fourth Army Corps of Djemal Pasha, with the formidable
+motor-driven siege-guns from the boasted stronghold fell back in rout
+and confusion upon the area of Shechem.
+
+Some directing Teutonic mind ordained, weeks previous to the
+evacuation, that the Allied prisoners from the camps of Beersheba and
+its vicinity, packed on Railway cattle-trucks or Army
+motor-lorries,--should be transferred by railway to the town of
+Shechem. It was to be converted by German gold, forced labour and
+modern resources, into a stronghold of Ottoman power, against which
+the expeditionary army of Britain should expend itself in vain....
+
+There are already British War prisoners in the mud-walled Barracks at
+Shechem, built round the courtyard containing the well. When on
+these hunger-gnawed, vermin-ridden men rolls the flood of human
+wretchedness from the camps of Beersheba and its neighbourhood,--they
+are to learn the bitter truth that there are grades in Misery.
+
+For a squat, sandy, pale-eyed Lieutenant-General of Turkish
+gendarmerie, who acted as Commandant of the Beersheba prison-camps,
+now supersedes the tyrant who has ruled at Shechem. The inmates of
+the prisons there have been robbed, stripped, and beaten. They have
+slept in tattered blankets upon mud or stone floors,--lived on a
+daily quarter of a coarse brown loaf per soul--and a handful of beans
+in oil.... They have undergone insult, and occasionally kicks and
+blows, but Home parcels have occasionally reached them, and though
+pinched, they were not famished.... Now the parcels are looted or
+their contents rendered uneatable.... A loaf is shared amongst
+twenty men, the pannikin of boiled beans yields each a bare spoonful.
+Driven out at dawn by Turks with loaded hide-whips, to dig trenches
+south and east of the old fortifications,--make emplacements for
+Austro-German artillery, and lay down a system of interchangeable
+rails for the Krupp motor-guns,--they are herded back at night to the
+filthy pens where they are packed so closely that they cannot lie
+down to sleep without lying on each other. Whence in the mornings
+men suffocated by the press of the bodies of their comrades are taken
+out dead....
+
+These victims belong to the rank and file. Some officers are
+quartered in the old stone-built prison. Yet others live in Turkish
+Army tents in a barbed-wire enclosure at the eastern end of the town.
+A ramshackle hut serves as their mess, when they have anything to
+mess on. But they are not too crowded for decency, and sickness
+spares them. Presently the officers are drafted away, four only
+remaining,--and the congestion at the mud-built Barracks is somewhat
+relieved. But Hunger, Overcrowding and Dirt have bred Dysentery,
+septic skin-eruptions and Typhus Fever, and these claim their victims
+by the score.
+
+The Hospital near the new Turkish Barracks by the Arsenal, staffed by
+the German Red Cross and the nurses and orderlies of the Red
+Crescent,--being crowded with Turkish and German wounded--cannot
+admit more than a few of the gravest cases of dysentery. The typhus
+patients are removed to the Hospital under the auspices of the
+Established Church of England Missionary Society, and
+another,--devotedly tended by the Catholic Sisters of the Cross.
+Helpers come from the Mission House of the Latin Patriarchate, who
+unweariedly give their services wherever there is need.... But
+desperate indeed would be the plight of the War prisoners--save that
+through the blizzard of misery raging through the mud Barracks--the
+courage and charity of one man shine like a steadfast star....
+
+The man is a Catholic chaplain who has served with the Expeditionary
+Forces at Gallipoli; has been taken prisoner and kept for awhile in
+Hospital at Constantinople; has been drafted to Smyrna, and later, by
+such haphazard chance as governs the lives of prisoners, has been
+shifted to Beersheba, and thence to Shechem.
+
+Unweariedly he alleviates, whilst sharing, the common misery.
+Shaking with fever, hunger-bitten to the bone, ragged as any
+scarecrow, red-eyed with sleeplessness, he moves from room to room
+distributing such poor comforts as are obtainable. Helping the
+convalescent, ministering to the sick, dispensing the Sacraments of
+the Mother Church to the Catholic dying--cheering those of other
+creeds with the words that are of God....
+
+
+On a day in November, half-an-hour later than the morning prayer-call
+from the minaret of the Great Mosque that was once a Church of the
+Canons of the Holy Sepulchre--you are to see Father Julian Forbis
+going his daily round.... The mud-walled courtyard is closed in on
+three sides by the mud-built Barracks, and on the fourth by a high
+wall topped by rusty iron spikes--a wall in which there is an archway
+closed by a double gate, flanked on either side by guard-rooms. Over
+the gateway is the office of the Turkish Commandant.
+
+To-day the courtyard of the mud-built Barracks is full of sunshine
+and packed with prisoners. Lying, squatting or standing, the
+majority are squalid spectres on whose gaunt frames their foul and
+tattered clothing hangs baggily, though some are bloated like the
+corpses of men who have been long drowned. Though the assemblage is
+sprinkled with Roumanians, Syrians, Jews, Armenians and Arabs,--these
+last having a dungeon to themselves, of unutterable filthiness, the
+bulk are of the rank and file of Britain's Crusading Forces.
+Australians, Indians, New Zealanders, and British Territorials....
+Actors, clerks, printers, shopwalkers and jockeys; farm-labourers,
+electricians, gardeners, photographers, bakers, University
+students,--representatives of every class and calling. One and all
+strung to endurance by the spirit that makes heroes of ordinary
+men....
+
+The shadows of Ebal and Gerizim as yet fall westward. Their towering
+summits and those of the lesser mountains, and the minarets of the
+Great and the two smaller mosques look down into the dirty mud-walled
+court, baking in the rays of the early sun, though the November
+nights are chilly. Every stench the prison fosters seems intensified
+by the heat. The loud buzzing of millions of flies mingles in a
+bagpipe-drone with the noise of many voices, Eastern and
+European,--talking in half-a-dozen languages and a hundred
+dialects--and the hubbub has for its accompaniment the thudding of
+distant guns. From the southwest, where the 54th British Division is
+engaged with the enemy between the sea and Gaza. Nearer South, where
+a bitter struggle is being waged by British Cavalry, armoured cars,
+and the bombers and machine-gunners of the Royal Flying Corps, for
+the possession of Junction Station--the next point after the fall of
+Gaza, of tactical importance in Palestine. From the hills towards
+Hebron those enemy forces, who have previously retreated to this
+vantage, have descended into the Coastal Plain, to relieve the
+pressure and stiffen the resistance of their comrades by
+demonstrating a counter-attack. For if Junction Station, the key of
+the northern railway-system, with its vast dumps of rolling-stock,
+supplies, War-material and its camps of prisoners, shall fall into
+the hands of the British--Jerusalem will be cut off from
+communication save by Wireless with Turkey and Germany....
+
+
+Day wears apace.... The winged hordes of Baal Zebub, like the humans
+whom they feast on, are making the most of the sunshine. Fat white
+maggots that will be flies presently,--and vermin still more
+loathsome--crawl in the dirty straw on which the prisoners are
+squatting or lying. Deep in the well the clear water shines like a
+huge blue eye, reflecting the shadowless heavens above.
+
+A man hanging over, seems to stare in the water, apparently
+sheltering his eyes with both hands from the glare. He has the
+crowned wings of the R.F.C. on the shoulder of his ragged shirt of
+khaki flannel, and the clear water of the brimming well reflects the
+three chevrons and crown of a Flight Sergeant, tacked upon its
+tattered sleeve. Also the glittering lenses of a small pair of
+folding binoculars, cunningly concealed by the curve of their owner's
+hands.
+
+"What be 'ee lookin' vor, Tom?" cautiously whispers a freckled
+trooper of Devon Yeomanry, digging a painfully sharp elbow in the
+airman's lean ribs.
+
+Barney Mossam takes it on himself to answer,--being the accredited
+wit and jester of the knot gathered about the well. He is a little,
+broad-shouldered, bow-legged London Territorial, with a nose that has
+suffered in bouts of fisticuffs; a carroty head, a broad humorous
+grin, and a squint that points a joke. He speaks with the thick
+catarrhal snuffle of the East End. Even in khaki his type proclaims
+him of the Race of Costermongers.... Covent Garden Market is thick
+with Barneys, all alike as peas from the pod....
+
+"Ticklebats, my flash top," says Barney winking, "kind you used to
+ketch a while back, wiv' a bottle tied on a string." He adds in a
+thick whisper directed at the ear of the absorbed Flight Sergeant,
+"Wot d'yer pipe, old Sky-gazer? Thinkin' it's abaht time we 'ad
+another look-in from ours affectionately the Two-Faced Nightingale?"
+
+"Ay. Unless he happened to come in the night!" The cautious whisper
+of the reply only just reaches the ears for which it is intended....
+
+"I 'eard a 'plane go singin' over 'ere 'bout twelve-thirty by my gold
+ticker," says Barney. "But she was one of them there seaplanes wiv'
+little canoes instid o' wheels. There ain't so many 'Un 'planes
+abaht as there used to!--an' Turkey 'planes is gittin' as rare as--as
+glass in the Strand an' Covent Garden Market--after the bloomin'
+Zepps and Super Goths 'as paid the usual mornin' call...." His thick
+whisper is barely audible even to the other: "Reckon that's why it
+pays Old Two-Face to play the double game. Wiv' a patent trick
+lever-switch--Gorblime 'im!--but 'e's clever! to cover the Union
+Jacks on 'is under-wings with Red Crescents when 'e tips the stud....
+'Wish _I_ 'ad a Turk face to pull over my reel one! Wouldn't take me
+long to 'op out of 'ere! Wonder if 'e 'as the syme dodge fitted on
+'is top wings? Give one o' my last three fags--I would!--to find out
+'oo 'e is!"
+
+"He's not an Englishman, thank God! He's pretty nearly a black one.
+Dark as a Gyppo--or a Hindu. The other was white. Inside as well as
+out. _That's_ why he was murdered!" returns the Flight Sergeant in
+his wary whisper, without lowering his hands....
+
+"Some blokes gits all the fun. 'Ow come you to see it, Sergeant?"
+
+For once the Cockney's jest provokes no appreciative smile. The thin
+hands sheltering the prized binoculars shake.... The whispering
+voice shakes also--and its hurried sentences are punctuated by the
+thudding of those distant guns....
+
+"I've told you.... It's just a week since.... I was up in our room
+there," the speaker contemptuously jerks his ear towards an upper
+window of one of the Barrack buildings--"looking through this little
+Zeiss glass that magnifies by 20. (I've told you how I took it off a
+dead German airman at Huy.) ... And the Two-Faced
+Nightingale--hovering not more than four hundred feet above the
+Square in front of the big Khan,--was picking the place, damn him!
+where he'd settled to drop his despatch-bag. He switched his Red
+Crescents on over the Union Jacks--and the stunt brought the usual
+roar of laughter from the people. Every one was out to stare,--the
+streets as far as I could see, were packed, as well as the roofs....
+Then he dropped his bag, plumb for the square,--swung round and
+steered Southward. And,--keeping the glasses focussed on them, I saw
+his white observer stand up, lean forward and touch him on the back.
+He looked round and his white teeth flashed in his face sort of
+spitefully.... The other fellow was handing him out cold truth in
+ladlefuls, shaking his fist and raving like mad. Then--it happened
+before you could wipe an eye! He--the pilot--cut out his
+engine--turned round, and I caught the glitter of a revolver in his
+hand. Then came the flash and the crack. And the white man buckled
+up in the bottom of his cockpit--and the Two-Faced Nightingale
+switched on and flew away South. And nothing was left on the blue
+sky but a puff of brown cordite."
+
+"The murderin' dawg!" Barney carefully moves from the coping-stone
+of the well a burnt match, and a wisp of straw, that some eddying
+draught of the hot breeze might carry into the water. "No fear of
+'im gittin' copped. This 'ere queer go wot we calls Life's more on
+the lines of a Drury Lyne Autumn Show than I twigged when I rallied
+up 'long o' my pals on Fust Nights outside the good old Gallery
+Entrance. On'y it's turned the wrong w'y raound. Vice gits all the
+limes from both wings, an' all the clappin' from the Pit an' Gallery.
+An' Virtue kips on the bare boards of a stinkin' Turkish
+barrack-room, or 'unkers in the stinkin' mud, and 'unts things wot
+'ops and crawls." He goes on, talking to himself, for the airman,
+staring in the reflected patch of sky is suddenly absorbed to
+deafness. "S'trewth! Wherever it does pay--off of the boards of a
+Theayter--the 'Eroic Line don't go for nuts--not 'ere in Palestine!"
+
+"Ye are richt! It pays nae better than it paid twa thousan' years
+agone. But which is it better to be on--the de'il's side--or the
+Lord's? I wuss to Him some voice frae Heaven wad speyk an' answer
+me! ..."
+
+The utterance--unmistakably Scotch--breaks in several feet above the
+level of Barney's monologue. He looks up at a tall, gaunt,
+red-haired Scot in the Border bonnet and ragged khaki kilt, and
+badges of the Tweedburgh Regiment, and says with his characteristic
+wink:
+
+"'Ullo, Corp'ral Govan! Thet you? ..."
+
+"Nae ither that I ken...." He is quite young, but he moves like an
+old man, as he lets his long length slowly down on the mud beside the
+Cockney, unheeding the invitation to take a straw, and hugs his hairy
+knees. "Man! I wad gie the twa dirrty Turkish notes in ma pooch,
+an' a guid British florin to the back o' them, to be anither chap
+than Alec Govan the day. For I have seen what a man may scarce see,
+an' keep his brain frae madness--ay! an' his tongue from cryin' oot
+on God!" He rocks himself in silence, then says with a stifled
+groan: "Man! dinna gawp at me. Do ye no' ken I hae been wi'
+Ullathorne? ..."
+
+"Ullathorne. That's your chum, ain't 'e? Wot abaht 'im?"
+
+"Hae ye no' heird?" The long Scot stares at the Cockney wonderingly.
+
+"Nuffin' but that 'e didn't come back last night wiv the
+workin'-party. 'As 'e turned up?"
+
+"Ay. They pitched him back intil oor room last nicht--a' the green
+rods had left o' him. Weel I kenned they would do their warst once
+they got their chance." There is foam on the livid lips. "They
+drove him oot wi' the rest o' us to the Defence Warks yesterday
+mornin', though he had the fever on him sair, an' couldna' stand
+alane.... Weel, weel I wat why!" He is shaking as though with ague.
+"An' he staggered an' reeled, an' knocked up against ane o' the
+sentries--an' Hamid Bey was standing by wi' some of his gang o'
+police.... By the grin on the pasty face of him, ye could tell he
+was oot for murder. An' he ordered Ullathorne a hundred strokes for
+brutally attackin' the man. They held us up an' made us watch whiles
+they laid on to him. O Christ Jesus! ... First on the feet,
+twenty-five strokes--then the back an' belly an' breist.... An' when
+he fainted an' lay for dead, they drove us oot wi' their whips an'
+left him lyin'; an' when we came back for the nicht-shift he was gane
+awa' from there.... In the mirk o' the nicht, as I hae said, they
+flung him in amang us,--nakit as a new-born wean--an' his raw flesh
+hangin' in strips. As though the butcher had stairted to collop
+him--an' changed his min' aboot it. A braw sicht for the mither that
+bore him, an' the lass he should hae wed!"
+
+"Gorblime the bloody beasts!" says Barney, gulping. His coarse hand
+touches the thin arm in the tattered sleeve with the Corporal's
+stripes, and does it gently too. "Will Ullathorne live? They don't
+often live--our own chaps--do 'em?--though Turks seems some'ow
+diff'rent."
+
+"He was deein' when they broucht him back, puir lad! I hae left him
+barely breathin'.... Father Forbis is wi' him noo.... Ullathorne is
+nae no Catholic, but the Father has the Gift o' the Word. Sune--sune
+he will be dead, my chum that I made at Gallipoli, the last o' the
+auld company left aiblins mysel'!"
+
+
+No tears come to the burning grey eyes that stare into vacancy.
+
+"A' nicht I held him i' my airms! His bluid is wet upo' me. An' I
+made a sang to sooth to him--we Govans aye had the bard's gift, they
+say, in the braw auld days. And when he is dead--for I promised
+him!--the haill Barracks shall hear't. The bonny sang o' the
+Christian men killed by the Turkish hound!"
+
+"Look wide O! One o' them Mo'ammedan guards 'as got 'is ugly eye on
+you," urges Barney, apprehensive that the recklessness of grief may
+bring Govan the fate of his friend. "While there's life there's
+'ope! ... Pre'aps Ullathorne might git round yit!"
+
+But Govan shakes his haggard head:
+
+"I doot--I doot it sairly. But what can be done Father Forbis will
+dae. He promised me he wouldna leave him as lang as there was breith
+i' him. An' Forbis aye keeps his word. Here he comes! Luik at's
+face..... Ullathorne has passed to his Maker!"
+
+The Scot starts to his naked feet, and Barney Mossam sits up and
+salutes, as through an archway on the ground-floor of the sordid
+block of buildings opposite comes the figure of a tall, emaciated
+man, followed by a burly, slovenly Turkish soldier and a grotesque,
+hunchbacked shape,--recognisable only by the voluminous folds of the
+coarse biscuit-coloured veil that covers its head, and falls to the
+hem of its soiled blue cotton robe--as a Syrian peasant woman.
+
+"Good morning, Mossam!" The intonations of the priest's voice, and
+the smile that curves the mouth hidden by the reddish-golden beard,
+and lights the sunken blue eyes, are very like Katharine's.... "You
+are up and about again! ..."
+
+"Couldn't lay up in the lap o' luxury no longer, Father!" drolls the
+indomitable jester. "A man in my condition 'as to 'ave exercise to
+sweat the suet off 'is bones."
+
+The bones show as though the tattered uniform hung on clothes-props.
+The priest glances at them compassionately, and then with gentle
+friendliness at the haggard faces that turn to him, as he picks his
+way delicately between the prone and squatting men.
+
+"Move!" says the Turkish military guard in the greenish-yellow khaki
+served out to the Ottoman forces in the War with Serbia, a huge
+_posta_ whose fez sits on the extreme summit of his pointed head like
+the red-paper-cap on a bottle of liquorice-powder,--who wears good
+boots stripped from a British prisoner: and who speaks a bastard
+mixture of bad Turkish and worse Arabic: "_Haide git_! Make way for
+the _kassis_ and the woman! _Imshi_! Must ye be as the beasts?"
+
+For a hyæna-like yell of joy has greeted the discovery that there are
+oranges in one, and almonds and walnuts in the other, of two heavy
+palm-fibre baskets carried by the misshapen, limping being who
+follows behind the priest. The wretched creature is one of those
+nondescript hangers-on that in the negligent East haunt such places
+of misery as the mud Barrack-prison,--gaining a meagre subsistence by
+washing the prisoners' tattered linen, running errands to the
+_bâzâr_,--boiling broth or carrying water for the sick and
+convalescent, and, when the guards can be bribed into
+acquiescence--washing and laying out the bodies of the dead.
+
+Bundled in her soiled rags--shrouded in the voluminous veil that
+hides a face so disfigured by accident or disease, that no European
+who has glimpsed can think of it without a shudder, and Orientals
+express their abhorrence by spitting on the ground--the Mother of
+Ugliness--thus nicknamed by some coarse wit among her
+countrymen--passes without insult, ill-usage or outrage, where no
+other of her sex, unprotected by deformity and hideousness, could
+have escaped....
+
+"Orangees. Glory be to God!--an' where did yer Reverence git thim?"
+asks the owner of the unmistakably Irish voice, stretching gaunt
+hands, shaking with fever, for one of the luscious golden globes.
+
+"A friend brought them," briefly answers the priest, as he
+distributes the fruit and nuts generously on all sides.
+
+"God bless the friend! ... An' that's yourself, I'm thinkin'," grunts
+the Irishman, driving his teeth deep into the juicy fruit.
+
+"No, Sullivan, it was not I. You see the giver...."
+
+"The Mother av' Ugliness, bedad! More power to her!" splutters
+Sullivan, as the priest points to the crooked shape swathed in its
+sordid veils.
+
+"She has earned a prettier name here among us," says Father Forbis,
+looking round at the faces,--pinched and white, or livid, or
+fever-flushed, that crowd about him, and speaking with mild
+authority. "She shall be called henceforth The Mother of
+Kindness...."
+
+He turns to the shrinking creature at his heels and repeats it in
+Arabic.
+
+"Sidi!" the woman implores in muffled tones, trembling so that the
+folds of her coarse veils wave as though some vagrant breeze were
+stirring amongst them:
+
+"I have spoken! By you and other British in this place--" He looks
+round sternly at the men, "the old name is forgotten. She is the
+Mother of Kindness.... Let all of you remember that!"
+
+"We'll not forgit, yer Reverence! ..."
+
+"Verra weel, Sirr! ..."
+
+"Sure we'll remember, Boss! ..."
+
+"A' right, Sir!
+..."
+
+"_Han, Hâzrât!_ ..."
+
+"Right O Father! ..."
+
+"A'ay, Zur, for sure! ..."
+
+"Yea, verily, it shall be as the Sahib orders!"
+
+They answer him in a hundred voices, resonant bass, or cheery tenor,
+coarse and refined, illiterate or educated,--flavoured with the
+accent and in the dialect of every shire or county in the United
+Kingdom--every country of the Dominions Overseas. And standing in
+his ragged clothes, with a battered enamelled can of broth and
+another of barley-water dangling from one lean hand, while the other
+eases the heavy weight of a wallet of canvas, broad, slung about his
+thin shoulders, and containing such medicines and dressings as may be
+had--the Father surveys them smilingly--but with the spark in his
+blue eyes that they know can leap to flame....
+
+You are to see him as a tall, emaciated man of twenty-nine or thirty,
+chalky-pale with famine and worn with lack of sleep. Eagle-featured,
+broad-browed, blue-eyed; with long, untrimmed hair and tangled beard
+of ruddy yellow-brown. Without the eight-pointed black metal star on
+the lapel of his tattered khaki jacket, or the wisp of Roman collar
+that still hangs about his neck, or the bartered Breviary and Office
+book that bulges a front tunic-pocket--a ragged strip of purple stole
+between its well-thumbed pages--you could not fail to recognise the
+Religious by vocation; the cultured priest, the man born to dominate,
+sway and rule.
+
+"_Haide_! Let us go!" growls the Turkish guard, thrusting two
+oranges and a handful of nuts in a pocket of his soiled tunic, and
+kicking a man squatting in his path less viciously than as a matter
+of form.
+
+And the little procession of the tall priest, the red-fezzed guard,
+and the bundle of soiled feminine clothing--brought up in the rear by
+Corporal Alec Govan, moves towards the ground-floor archway on the
+other side of the courtyard.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+"Sirr!"
+
+"You, Govan? ..." The priest glances back as he passes out of the
+sunshine and smells of the courtyard into the squalor and reek of the
+fetid passage, and the guard, kicking out a palm-wood stool from
+behind the heavy wooden-locked door, squats down upon it to crack and
+eat nuts....
+
+"Ay, Sirr.... It is a' ower? ..."
+
+The priest gravely bends his head, and the red light in Govan's eyes
+is momentarily quenched in bitter waters, as he goes on, gulping his
+agony down:
+
+"I weel kent that was sae, or ye wad no' have left him. Did he no'
+speyk ane worr'd o' his mither, puir cratur!--or o' the lass he bude
+to marry--or o' me, his frien'--before he passed?"
+
+"He spoke of one Friend--just at the last--even a better one than you
+were," says Father Forbis, gently touching the man's clenched hand.
+"He Who was scourged by Roman rods for poor Ullathorne and you, and
+all of us. Who died that we might live with Him for all eternity.
+Where Death cannot come--or cruelty--or suffering...."
+
+"Ay, Sirr.... Ye are verra gude. We a' ken that o' ye!"
+
+"And God is good," says the priest, "though Man may make men doubt
+it. Where are you going? ..."
+
+"I am ganging back to Ullathorne. He maun be washed an' straikit an'
+berrit dacently. He maunna be pitched intil a hole like a doug!"
+
+The priest shudders and his face contracts painfully.
+
+"Very well. You shall have what little linen I can find, and all the
+help I can spare.... I must finish my rounds among the sick men
+now.... But, Govan! ..."
+
+"Ay! ..."
+
+"In the name of the old friendly days--" The thin but powerful white
+hand goes out and rests on the other's shoulder,--"when you and
+I--two long-legged lads--tickled trout in the Rushet and went
+rabbiting on the high moors--and made toffee over the stove in the
+harness-room at Kerr's Arbour--and for your own sake and the sakes of
+all here!--let me beg you not to provoke the evil man who has us in
+his power, by a rash display of the wrath and scorn that can do no
+good--to him!"
+
+"Meanin' Ullathorne! I hear ye, Sirr." A strange smile shows on the
+grimly-set mouth, and the dour grey eyes sullenly shun the appeal of
+the blue ones. "Wi' your leave I will be ganging back to him the
+now.... He aye likit me to make queer sangs to sooth to him in the
+lang hoors when we lay in the trenches at Gallipoli. An' I hae a
+sang--the queerest ane o' a'--he wad fell like to hear! Guid day to
+ye, Sirr!"
+
+He salutes, with the strange smile fixed upon his face, wheels about,
+and strides out of the fetid passage-way back into the sunshine, and
+the priest's heart sinks within him as he goes. Fresh furrows line
+his high, white brow, and anxiety deepens the caves about his eyes,
+as he says--speaking in Arabic to the bowed figure waiting humbly as
+a dog at the bottom of the broken staircase:
+
+"He is mad with grief. God pity him! ... Follow, and give what aid
+thou canst, O Mother of Kindness!"
+
+"If the Sidi would graciously--not call me by that name...."
+
+The timid whisper barely reaches the ear it was meant for. They have
+moved farther down the murky, fetid passage-way, blocked at its
+entrance by the burly body of the nut-cracking Turkish guard. Father
+Forbis asks in surprise:
+
+"Why not, when thou dost merit it? ..." And she answers:
+
+"Sidi, in ugliness there is Protection! Could a woman--with two eyes
+and a whole face--instead of a half-one--dwell in this evil place one
+hour--and fare forth unharmed? ..." She makes as though to pull
+aside her veil with her dusky, slender fingers, but does not, and
+goes on in the same swift cautious undertone:
+
+"True, there are British soldiers here, and nearly all that I have
+met were respecters of decent women! But when even the British
+soldiers are beaten and tortured--made the sport of devils in forms
+of men!--what can avail a woman better than to be hideous? Sidi,--if
+a Turk thrust forth a hand to pluck aside my veil, he--he!" she
+chuckles with a dry, clacking, mirthlessness, "see you--he retches
+and spits and curses--and does not do it again! _Shâf--Shâf!_ ...
+See, O see!"
+
+She pulls the veil ruthlessly from the left side of her hidden face
+and shows to the priest's pitying eyes the ruin it has concealed.
+The scar of an old burn puckers the olive-tinted temple and cheek
+that have caved where the bone has been shattered--the blinded eye
+has vanished under ridged folds of skin. The bridge of the
+nose--enough left of it to show that the feature has been of the
+curved Semitic type--has been ruthlessly shattered;--the upper lip,
+torn partly away, has healed into shapelessness.... He does not see
+the other side of the face--and the woman evinces no desire to show
+it. But the little ear, daintily formed and shaded by hair that is
+yet jet-black and silken--shows that the Mother of Ugliness may once
+have been beautiful....
+
+"A gunshot wound--and a terrible one." He says it to himself
+ponderingly.
+
+"Nay, Sidi. The weapon was a revolver."
+
+"What say you? ..."
+
+The priest starts. He has spoken his thought in his English tongue,
+and this Syrian woman has answered in her own. And it is the Arabic
+of the cultured classes, not the peasants' primitive speech. He
+looks at her, and she draws her veil over the poor ruined face that
+may once have been lovely and goes on speaking in her cultured Arabic:
+
+"Verily, Sidi! A revolver-shot, fired so near that the muzzle
+touched the skin. There was little time--" She gives her dry,
+rustling chuckle. "Little time, and he wished to make sure. He did
+not mean to miss! ..."
+
+"A heartless crime, O woman! But thou dost forgive the doer?"
+
+"He was not mine enemy!" she says with her mirthless laugh.
+
+"Thy lover.... And jealous.... Forgive him all the more for that
+having loved--he hurt thee in his frenzy. This was" (of course, the
+woman is old) "done many years ago?"
+
+"Ay, Sidi! When I was young." Her laugh is like the crackling of
+burning brush.... "Three years ago--no longer! And he who did the
+thing was my brother, not my lover," says the flat, toneless voice
+from within the folds of the veil. "And jealous truly--but for his
+sister's honour. He dared not slay mine enemy--a _Zabit_ of the
+_Osmanli_,--for that would have brought sword and fire and
+destruction upon our house. My lord understands? ..."
+
+"Surely!"
+
+"Therefore he gave me the wound thou seest--and thinking he had
+killed me,--he shot himself to escape death by torture and
+degradation. May God reward him a thousand-fold in the bosom of
+Abraham! ..."
+
+The priest starts slightly:
+
+"Thou art a Jewess?"
+
+She is silent....
+
+"Or perhaps a Samaritaness, like that woman of this city, who near
+two thousand years ago held drink to the parched lips of a Traveller
+beside Jacob's Well?"
+
+"What I once was does not matter, but I am no Samaritaness!" There
+is something like resentment in the faded, toneless voice.
+
+"Thou art Charity's very daughter to the sick ones in this prison.
+For one para that they give thee, they get ten piastres back. Dost
+thou think that I am blind?" Smiling, he shakes his finger at the
+Mother of Ugliness. She bows her head and answers, trembling like a
+reed in the wind:
+
+"Nay, Sidi.... I have feared not! ... But for the love of Him Whom
+thou dost serve--seem to be blind a little longer! There is"
+(another spasm of trembling passes through her)--"There is no
+medicine for the wretched like helping Wretchedness! Here I am
+somewhat.... They do not shrink from me. Me whom the children in
+the streets hoot and run from!--at whose hidden face the women in the
+doorways spit and point their amulets, lest its influence blight
+before birth the unborn babe in the womb! And--were I driven from
+this place--" The faint voice is silent:
+
+"Be it so, O Mother of Ugliness! Henceforth I am dumb as to thy
+virtues, and blind to the beauty of--thy deeds! Come--and I will
+give thee some linen for the swathing of that poor broken body that
+was a live man yesterday. What ails Thee, O woman? What dost thou
+fear? ..."
+
+For the bowed figure crouches down, shaking as though with ague, a
+mere heap of sordid clothes on the filthy floor at his feet. A
+stifled voice falters out:
+
+"Didst thou not hear the bugle? ... The gates--the gates are opening!
+..."
+
+They are, indeed, with a clanking of rusty iron bolts in stone
+groovings; with a turning out of the slovenly guard from the bare
+rooms flanking the high archway of the gate. With a stiff uprising
+of the lolling, nut-cracking _posta_ at the doorway--a susurrous of
+fierce whispers--a nameless commotion of hate and fear and loathing
+unutterable--amongst the packed bodies of the prisoners squatting,
+standing, or lying on the beaten mud pavement of the prison
+courtyard....
+
+"The Bey!" The thick whisper reaches the priest and the woman, flung
+over the shoulder of the Turk as he stands at attention in the
+doorway: "Hamid Bey Mutasarrif comes, bringing a Mushir of the
+Almanis to inspect the prisoners...." He adds, under his hurried
+breath: "Allah and the Prophet of Allah be with me, Hasan Ali--and
+deliver me from smitings this unpropitious day!"
+
+The guard have turned out. They raggedly present arms, and Hasan
+Ali, and such others of his fellows as are on duty in the
+courtyard--or posted at the portals of the mud
+Barrack-buildings--shoulder their Sniders or more modern Remingtons
+with the smartness engendered of fear; as a squat, sandy officer of
+Turkish gendarmerie--topped with the ugly khaki compromise between
+the turban and the helmet--patented by Envey Bey in 1912--and adorned
+as to the epaulettes with the two stars, and as to the cuffs with the
+four longitudinal gold lace bands and the three diagonal gold bars of
+a Turkish Lieutenant General--walks with a tall, brick-faced--very
+much decorated German Staff officer, in amongst the stenches of the
+crowded prison-yard.
+
+Several persons succeed these. Two German Staff officers of inferior
+rank to the first, evidently his _aide_, and a secretary, come
+swaggering and chatting behind their Chief. A bearded Turkish
+Surgeon Major, fat and apoplectic, in black gauze spectacles, waddles
+after--with a nondescript Greek person, evidently of the
+interpreter-class. And a half-company of Turkish mounted gendarmerie
+troop after, rather stragglingly. The big bushy-bearded, red-fezzed
+men, uniformed in old-time dark blue Hussar tunics, with orange and
+black facings, braided pantaloons and long shiny thigh-boots, are all
+well-armed with Winchester repeating-rifles, and carry big German
+Service revolvers in holsters at their belts.
+
+There is a dull shuffling sound, mingled with thuds and stifled
+swearing, as the Turkish guards, with assiduous kicks, and blows of
+the rifle-butt, assist sitting or lying War prisoners to assume a
+perpendicular position; and herd their charges into rank right and
+left, leaving a central avenue down which the Bey and the visitors
+may pass. Holding his breath in an agony of suspense as he peers
+into the crowded courtyard over the broad shoulder of the soldier
+blocking the passage, the priest scans the faces that he knows for
+signs of coming storm. As the squat, pale-eyed, bow-legged Asiatic,
+uniformed in greenish khaki-drill, wearing with clownish awkwardness
+the wide-thighed riding-breeches, the belts, pouches, and gauntlets
+of russet leather, and the polished riding boots with silver spurs,
+that set off the tall soldierly figures of the Germans, steps with
+them across the threshold of the prison courtyard it seems to every
+prisoner that the very sunshine fails of its warmth, and the faint
+hot breeze blows cold....
+
+The Bey looks about him with a pale oblique slyness, his cigarette
+elaborately poised between his thick gloved fingers, and says,
+speaking in Turkish, (which language the priest, held for months in
+durance vile at Constantinople and at Smyrna, has relieved the tedium
+of prison-life by studying, and fairly understands):
+
+"Good-morning, my children!"
+
+"Good-morning, O Bey! ... May Allah favour your Excellency," lustily
+chorus the _postas_. But at the sound of the hated voice the faces
+of the prisoners have darkened threateningly, and the silence that
+falls on the tainted enclosure is heavy as a pall.
+
+"Your Excellency wished to inspect the British men before seeing the
+British officers. These guests of our Empire"--Hamid's leering smile
+and the glitter in his pale flat eyes show the Bey's enjoyment of his
+own sarcasm, and the stiff faces of the German general and his
+_aides-de-camp_ and secretary exhibit a faint grin as he continues:
+"--these guests of our Empire are not at work to-day.... It is a
+holiday for them. They sit and chat and eat fruit," (his sharp
+glance has lighted on the scattered nutshells and orange-peel), "and
+smoke tobacco about the well in their courtyard. Your Excellency
+sees!--a capital well! ... Praise be to Allah for the blessing of
+pure water! Show the well to his Excellency.... Make room, O you
+there! ..."
+
+A gap being made in the ragged ranks by _postas_ with the rifle-butt,
+the brick-faced German general stalks to the low parapet of the
+sky-reflecting eye of clear water, and pronounces it in Turkish of
+the Prussian brand, to be an exceedingly good well. The Bey,
+pretending to look at it too, enriches the water with his chewed
+cigarette-end; and spits in it slyly behind the back of the German
+general--to the chuckling delight of his immediate following--and the
+more controlled amusement of the German _aide-de-camp_ and secretary.
+As for the Greek interpreter and the fat be-goggled Surgeon Major,
+whose pharmacopæia is limited to Epsom Salts, pills of a rending
+nature, sulphur and iodine; who knows no disinfectant beyond chloride
+of lime, and never heard of sterilisation; whose surgical equipment
+is limited to a saw or two, some needles, a scalpel--all beyond words
+unclean!--lint made by Turkish ladies in secluded harems;
+sticking-plaster of the most adhesive kind, splints and First Aid
+bandages, these two parasites fairly wallow in enjoyment.
+
+The dirty bit of buffoonery is such a success that Hamid Bey is about
+to repeat it, when a heavy blow upon some dense, non-reverberating
+surface arrests him in the act. He starts, and looks round for the
+offender. So do the German officers, though their hard eyes are
+expressionless, and their sunburned faces as blank as brown tiles.
+So do the parasites, so do the military police of the Bey's escort,
+and the _postas_ of the guard. Then as the dull, pounding blow is
+repeated on the sill of a second-floor window of the mud wing facing
+the entrance-gates of the courtyard, every eye rolls up to there
+expectantly and men hold their breath.
+
+Crash! ... The weapon falls again.... It is the leg of a wooden
+stool, gripped in a fist that is strong and hairy ... and a
+face--unmistakably a madman's now!--appears at the window above. And
+in the hush that falls upon the parched courtyard, a crazy voice
+begins to sing--the leg of the stool coming down with a terrific
+crash at the end of every line:
+
+ "Say, ye Deid that hae gane before us!
+ (Mithers too, that conceived an' bore us,
+ Prayin' at hame an' greetin' for us--)
+ _What for the Hound wi' the jaws that tore us?--
+ What for the Turkish Hound?_
+
+ What for the beast that killed Tom Warren?
+ Nichols, Greenbough, Smith and Beeching,
+ Austin, Frenchard, Lark and Mansur--
+ _Hear ye no their voices answer--
+ 'Hell to the Turkish Hound!'_"
+
+
+The storm has broken with a vengeance. But even the white-faced
+priest, peering over the unsteady shoulder of the scared Turkish
+soldier, is carried away by the tingling excitement of the thing.
+Knowing that the gates of Terror are burst open--and that Vengeance
+shall issue forth....
+
+Upon the wild, discoloured face with the glaring eyes, all other eyes
+are glued expectantly, as through the rictus of a dreadful laugh that
+is stamped upon it by Insanity, it sings to the wild droning tune--to
+the accompaniment of the wooden club upon the crumbling
+window-sill--its rhymeless hymn of hate. Faces nearly as ghastly as
+the singer's appear at and crowd the windows of the Barracks. And in
+time to the crazy chant; the crazy buildings, the mud-walled and
+paved courtyard begin to shake with the measured stamping of the
+prisoners naked feet:
+
+ "What for the Man that made of Arthur,
+ Thomas, Chauncey, Dee, O'Brien;
+ Brown and Somers, Davys, Brenon,
+ Custance, Trevor, Ricketts, Blanchard;
+ Foltringham, Bellayse and Bidmead;
+ Jones and Kirby, Evans, Foljambe--
+ _Meat for a Turkish Hound?_"
+
+
+The place is thick with dust now; men's lungs are choked and
+oppressed by it.... They stamp--nothing can stop them stamping in
+time to the blows of the stool-leg on the window-sill of the room
+where lies the shapeless body of the comrade whom the _asâyisi_ have
+beaten into pulp.
+
+ "What for the deil that killed Ted Ullathorne--"
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+The wild song breaks off here, as the madman ducks below the level of
+the window-sill--and a cry of rage goes up from a hundred throats as
+he rises again, with the disfigured body in his arms, its head
+lolling helplessly beneath his own.... Then--a German Army revolver
+cracks--and with blood pouring over the face that is still laughing
+dreadfully, Govan, with his awful burden, reels back into the room....
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+The voice of a German officer breaks in, giving a sharp order in
+Prussian-flavoured Turkish. There is a rush of _zabtiehs_ and
+_postas_ to the door of the building where the madman is.... As they
+jostle in the filthy entry, the boots of those who have got in first,
+thunder on its crazy stairs; and savage shouts and the tumult of a
+desperate struggle break out in the sordid room where Govan--bleeding
+from a bullet-wound in the head--but equal to a dozen men in the
+strength of his insanity--stands over the disfigured corpse laid out
+upon a dirty sack.
+
+In the mud courtyard below, as Hamid Bey, with the German officers;
+his following and escort of police are retreating discreetly
+backwards to the vantage of the courtyard gate--a prisoner with a
+savage curse, dashes a handful of muddy orange-peel full in the livid
+face of Hamid. The Bey, smothered with filth and choking with rage,
+jerks his revolver from its holster, and promptly scatters the
+offender's brains.
+
+Were the Bey unaccompanied, a volley from the Winchesters of his
+escort would silence for all time the rioters about him. But the
+German commander has previously informed him that on the morrow the
+War prisoners under his jurisdiction at Shechem will be deported for
+purposes of exchange....
+
+Wild shouts, and British cheers break out.... Old War-slogans are
+heard again.... There is a furious rush of naked feet, but the
+Military Police and the _postas_ of the guard beat back the unarmed
+mutineers with rifle-butts, and drive them back on either side,
+clubbing and kicking them. But less because of this the tumult is
+quelled than because a tall, ragged man with long tawny hair and
+beard has rushed from the archway of one of the Barrack buildings;
+and bringing, in this desperate hour, the authority of the priest to
+reinforce the influence of the friend and helper, exhorts, implores,
+commands the maddened prisoners to submit to the brutal authority
+they have no power to resist.
+
+They are not cowed, but they obey. The clenched hands drop whatever
+missiles they have chanced to seize on,--their owners, in a storm of
+kicks, curses and blows with the rifle-butt, are herded back into the
+Barracks by their guards.
+
+Barney, the jester, for once at a loss for a gag, huddles on a sack
+half-filled with straw on one of the wooden platforms,--six feet wide
+and two above the floor--a couple of which, running parallel,
+longitudinally divide each room. Divided into sections by upright
+planks, each section of platform accommodates or discommodes six War
+Prisoners. Perhaps Barney's room, and others on the upper floors are
+a thought less vile in flavour than these on the lower storeys. He
+smokes his last remaining fag, then whistles a dreary ragtime,
+staring through the barred window in front of him at the unbarred
+window of a room that is over the courtyard gate....
+
+It is the window of the Commandant's office: the bare, seldom-used
+room where, on Sundays, as a signal favour,--the priest has been
+allowed to celebrate Mass and hold a Bible-class, and on rare
+occasions an impromptu smoking-concert has been given. It is full of
+Turkish _postas_ in khaki, and the braided blue of the Osmanli
+gendarmerie. It is at first not possible to get a glimpse of what is
+going on inside, but in obedience to some order the window is cleared
+of the bodies blocking it.... Now it can be made out that the
+officers are Hamid Bey and the German general, seated with the
+secretary and _aide_ at a table, before which--with two troopers of
+Mounted Police behind him, stands a tall, pale, emaciated man with
+long red-gold hair and beard.
+
+The man seems to be answering a series of interrogations. He
+asserts, he denies emphatically, he pleads, but he does not cringe.
+Driven to silent frenzy by the difficulty of seeing, and the
+doubtfulness of the trend of the events that are taking place in the
+room over the gateway, Barney looks at his neighbour, the Sergeant of
+the R.F.C.
+
+"Sergeant!"
+
+"Eh?"
+
+The Flight Sergeant's broad hands are sheltering his eyes as he lies
+on his stomach on the platform. The little folding binoculars that
+magnify by 20 are solving for their owner the problem of the
+Commandant's Room.
+
+"D'yer pipe wot's goin' on? In the office over the gytew'y? Where
+'Amid, blarst 'im! an' the two German orficers is settin' at the
+table and the Father standin' up in front? ..."
+
+"Ay. They're playin' a scene out o' the Old Testament!" says the
+Flight Sergeant, with a sarcastic twitch of a muscle in his thin
+cheek.
+
+"Wod'jer call it? ..." Barney breathes hard....
+
+"The Scapegoat!"
+
+"The 'ow much? ..."
+
+"The Scapegoat. The beast the ancient Jews burdened with the sins of
+the congregation--and drove into the Wilderness every year.
+Only--the Padre's the Scapegoat--in this case."
+
+"'Oo? ... Not Father Forbis?"
+
+"Father Forbis right enough! 'Left--turn. Quick--march.
+Party--shon!'" mimics the Sergeant, as the high fair head and stern
+aquiline profile of the priest, with a _zabtieh's_ fezzed head
+before, and another behind him,--passes across the field of vision
+limited by the frame of the window, and by the opening of a door an
+angle of light is thrown on the whitewashed office wall. "Now the
+_sira-châwush_ is ordering out the Prison Guard escort.... It's all
+over.... They're taking him away! ..."
+
+"Dismissed after interrygation.... That's all.... Cheero! In a
+minnit 'e'll come back through the yard-gyte an' go to 'is quarters
+as gay as a bloomin' bird...."
+
+Barney defends his opinion with desperate optimism. But his heart is
+sinking leadenly and a lump is in his throat.
+
+"All serene! Have it your own way. You'll see which is right of
+us!" The Sergeant cautiously raises himself up. "Do you hear the
+escort's looted British boots trampin' down the stairs? Now they'll
+either turn in here or march out at the Main Entrance. And if they
+do that, there'll be no Mass for the Catholics on Sunday morning--and
+no Prayers for the rest of us when Mass is through. And no one to
+get us the allowance from the Consul. And a dog's death for the
+sick, ay! and a dog's burial. There! ... Do you hear? ... That's the
+outside gate shutting..."
+
+"Yus. O my Gawd! Shall we ever see 'im agyne?"
+
+The inner gate of the Barrack courtyard has not opened. The sentries
+posted right and left of it maintain their position unmoved. But the
+groaning of rusty bolts in stone grooves, and the sound of the
+ponderous outer gate of the Main Entrance opening and slamming,
+falls, heavy as a clod of churchyard clay, on the hearts of many men.
+
+For their priest, their helper, their counsellor and friend has gone
+from his place among them, and the blank he leaves is beyond mere
+words to express. And even worse than the sense of loss is the cruel
+uncertainty. Wondering, conjecturing, they lie on their verminous
+benches as the long hot Palestine day creeps to the sunset hour. The
+prayer-call from the mosques heralds no supper. Prisoners who resent
+massacre and villainous usage must, in the opinion of the Bey, have
+been too lavishly fed. The soldiers of the guard divide the beans in
+oil; and Barney Mossam, tightening his belt, is more than ever
+certain that Virtue, outside the walls of the T.R. Drury Lane--is not
+a game that pays....
+
+The breeze freshens, the great bats come out to steal fruit, and the
+lesser ones to hunt moths and mosquitoes. Night suddenly unfolds her
+wings--and down comes the Dark. The jackals howl on the confines of
+the town, and the pariah dogs bay hideously. The Turkish equivalent
+for Lights Out! is sounded by the prison _boruzan_. Silver clear,
+the trumpets and bugles of the German-Turkish garrison challenge the
+echoes of Ebal and Gerizim. The radiant Hosts of Heaven come forth,
+and the moon, in her last quarter, hangs over the Hills of Gilead.
+
+Sleep has come to the prisoners. The mud walls shake with their
+snoring. Only a few are wakeful. The Flight Sergeant is one of
+these. Towards the middle of the night a 'plane goes over Shechem:
+
+"A raiding or reconnoitring hydro from some carrier in the
+Mediterranean? No! There's no rattling from the floats. It is a
+land machine...."
+
+The airman leaves the crowded bench, and steals to the window. In
+the white effulgence of the moon all objects stand out clear. The
+German look-out with the telescope on the minaret of the Great Mosque
+of el Kebir.... The hooded searchlight with its dozing and waking
+guardians, on the balcony lower down.... A little figure moving on
+the ragged shoulder of Ebal.... A child? ... No! a woman--scrambling
+up from limestone terrace to terrace.... He forgets her, for, with
+the deep, vibrating song that he remembers--into the field of his
+vision swims The Two-Faced Nightingale....
+
+At about a thousand feet up, she circles smoothly above Shechem. The
+search-ray from the balcony of the Great Mosque slashes at her
+viciously. Its fellow from the flank of Gerizim, leaps out, but
+sinks down again. Her pilot fires an orange light--and the scimitars
+of radiance from the Mosque and the Mount return to their scabbards;
+no strings of green rockets explore for the range of her--and no
+shells from the anti-aircraft guns in the Square of the Khan scream
+up at her winged shape....
+
+As the biplane hovers against the jewel-bright blue of the Eastern
+night, the little Zeiss glasses tell their owner that her pilot has a
+native observer. A big Arab in a striped mantle, and headcloth bound
+by a rope.... Now her pilot fires a second orange light, drops his
+weighted despatch-bag, banks and climbs, launching at a dizzy height
+into a descent of sweeping spirals.... Evidently he is going to land
+somewhere in the neighbourhood of Shechem....
+
+There is silence as the engine is cut out.... The big 'plane dives
+out of sight behind the shoulder of Ebal, where the lowest tiers of
+greyish-yellow limestone terraces are merged in the sandy, rolling
+plain....
+
+The Flight Sergeant holds his breath and waits, his eyes glued to the
+binoculars. In a wonderfully short space of time the aëroplane, a
+powerful tractor biplane of D.H.6 type, climbs into his field of
+vision,--rises in wide, masterly spirals, banks, turns and flies away
+Westwards,--leaving the Flight Sergeant wondering with his chin upon
+the window-sill....
+
+For the Two-Faced Nightingale has shed her observer, the big man in
+the striped Arab _abâyi_ and roped _kuffiyeh_. Puzzled, the Flight
+Sergeant creeps noiselessly back to his place on the wooden platform,
+and lies awake, chewing the cud of mystery, for the rest of the long
+miserable night.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+Dawn brings surprise to him, and the other War prisoners of the
+Barracks. After the distribution of the morning half-brick of gritty
+black bread, they are given a second ration, and told to get ready,
+as they are all going away.
+
+To this end they are presently mustered in the courtyard, carrying
+their various packs and bundles. Sick and well, unwashed, haggard,
+unshorn; on naked feet, or feet that are bandaged with the remnants
+of puttees. Some in tattered khaki tunics, others in cast-off German
+or Turkish jackets; many bareheaded, others covered with German
+military caps or broken sun-helmets,--as sorry a collection of
+scarecrows as Turco-German neglect and brutality can make of two
+hundred and twenty brave men.... A Turkish bimbashi of infantry,
+attended by a châwush, gravely pretends to inspect the French and
+British prisoners. In the name of his Empire he bids them farewell.
+Some try to raise a feeble cheer when both sets of big wooden gates
+are thrown open,--and they see a string of some half-dozen German
+motor-lorries waiting in the sunny road. Sick and well, they are
+marched forth under guard and packed into these vehicles,--those
+unable to stand being carried out by _postas_. Then, followed by
+some weeping wives, the Arabs, Jews and Armenians, chained neck to
+neck in double file,--are led away--a disconsolate procession, bound
+for no man knows where....
+
+Even as they leave the foul place of their captivity, the Barracks is
+filled from wall to wall by an entering battalion of Turkish
+Reservist Rifles, part of a Brigade hastily summoned by Von
+Kressenstein from the Caucasus, to be launched on the journey to
+Mespot, and now brought down here. Swarthy, hairy men, armed with
+the old long Martini, some covered with the fez, others with the
+drill _enverieh_, some shod with sandals and leggings, others with
+German Army boots.
+
+Thus, the Railway-line from Shechem not being available--it was
+extensively damaged a little while back by British bombing
+aircraft--and on the repair of it many of these War prisoners have
+bitterly toiled!--they are bumped over villainously bad roads to
+railhead at Nakr--en route for the fierce red city of Aleppo, where
+as they are now aware and Heaven knows how they have got the
+knowledge!--the sick and disabled are to be picked out for Exchange
+to England, _via_ Smyrna--and the able-bodied (such as they are!)
+sent north to Belemkh, a station in the Taurus Mountains,
+headquarters for gangs of War prisoners working on the rails....
+
+The villainous road that buckjumps through the tumbled Palestine
+landscape is crowded with Turkish Field, Horse, and Mountain
+Artillery, conjured back from Mesopotamia by Von Kressenstein, and
+rushing forward to the defence of Junction Station South. Battery
+after battery rolls by in the blinding dust; guns and waggons pulled,
+and riders carried by tough Anatolian horses, bitterly ill-used and
+evidently poorly fed. But not the roll of iron-shod wheels and the
+clatter of iron-shod hoofs, nor the roar of human voices talking in
+many Oriental dialects, nor the curses and jeers and viler things
+that are hurled at the prisoners in the jolting lorries, can shut out
+the savage, irregular thudding of Turkish Krupp 75 mms., Turkish
+Mountain Artillery, and machine-guns; and the steady, dogged slogging
+of British Royal Garrison Artillery motor-howitzers; British Field
+Artillery eighteen-pounders; and the clat-clat-clatter of Lewis
+machine-guns, waging bitter battle in the west and south....
+
+At Nakr, where there is to be a delay of several hours, owing to the
+detrainment of forces from Mespot, they find a composite train of
+second and third-class compartments full of Turkish War Prisoner
+guards and their commanders, and horse-trucks, packed with British
+officers, waiting under steam for a German Staff Deputy Director of
+War Prisoners,--and a Controller of Transport,--who are going to
+Aleppo and thence to Smyrna to arrange the conditions of their
+exchange. The British officers are the recent captives of the
+stone-prison and the wired enclosure at Shechem. Very sunburnt are
+they:--very haggard, weary, thirsty, shabby and ill-shaven, and
+burdened with tattered valises and heterogeneous odds and ends of
+personal property, but bright of eye, elastic of bearing--full of the
+indomitable spirit that from the days of Agincourt and long before
+them--has been the birthright of their warlike race.
+
+Crowding like schoolboys at the half-doors of the padlocked and
+guarded horse-trucks, they shout cheery greetings, salutations and
+scraps of information to the rank-and-file, clustered like swarming
+bees on the grilling stretch of platform beside the iron track....
+
+"Hear the guns, W. and S.? Putting the wind up Djemal, aren't we?"
+
+"Halloa! Mossam of B---- Company, my late Platoon! I've not seen
+you since I launched you with a note to the O.C. the water-camels at
+Rashid.... Have you got hold of a new song, or are you still denying
+relationship with Potsdam?"
+
+"Aren't you Jollife, you chap with the Turkish fez and your eye in a
+sling? My Orderly in front of Gaza! What price that leg of roast
+goat with the skin and hair on? I'll bet you'd tuck into it quick
+enough now--if you got the chance!"
+
+A graver, older officer leans out and calls to the soldiers:
+
+"Can any of you men give us news of Father Forbis? We've been on the
+look-out for him since we heard we were to be moved."
+
+"The Padre! ... Where's the Padre? ... What are you shaking your
+heads about? Damn you, you hairy brute! Why do you savage the man?
+... What the hell has he done to you? ..."
+
+Thus the ringing British voice, sharp and acrid with indignation.
+For Barney Mossam, screwing himself up to answer, has been clubbed by
+a _posta's_ rifle-butt full in the mouth. He spits out blood and
+broken teeth, and grins pitiably; and for his sake and his comrades',
+the officers address them no more. Now the Turkish Station-Master
+and the German R.T.O. who is his master, appear on the platform, as
+the Deputy Director of War Prisoners and the Controller of Imperial
+Transport and their escorts arrive on the scene in German Army
+motor-cars. They board the dirty first-class compartment specially
+reserved for them. Their orderlies and servants stow away their
+luggage, the signal falls--and the train--with a non-commissioned
+officer on the platform of the corridor-car conveying the German
+officials--armed with binoculars and sharply on the look-out for
+British bomb-carrying aircraft, jolts over the warped, unevenly-laid
+metals for El Fuda Junction and Deraa, the first stages of its
+journey North....
+
+
+An Arab horseman, stationary beside the track with two mounted
+companions, controlling his fiery dapple-grey mare with a master-hand
+upon her jingling bridle--resplendent with the gold and silver
+jewellery lavished on horse-furniture by the wealthier Bedwân,
+gravely salutes with his long lance tufted with sable ostrich
+feathers, as the composite train jolts out of Nakr. And the Deputy
+Director of War Prisoners and the Controller of Imperial Transport,
+sitting opposite one another in their dusty first-class compartment,
+with tall tumblers of Munich beer, (iced, in this land of dust and
+drouth) on a table fitted between them ... smoking the fat cigars of
+Hamburg and discussing German Military Supremacy and German
+World-politics--gravely finger the brims of their sun-helmets in
+recognition of the salute....
+
+"_Wer ist es!_ Who now, is that Arab? ..." asks the Controller,
+whose bulging, light-grey eyes are sharp-sighted behind their tinted
+glasses. "A personage of some consequence, by the gold embroidery on
+his _burnus_ judging; the gold twist in his head-rope, the
+gold-hilted sword in his waist-cloth--and the
+also-with-precious-metal-enriched trappings of his Blauschimmel mare."
+
+"He," the Deputy Director replies, "is one of the lesser Emirs of the
+Irregular Cavalry of the King of the Hedjaz, who--as the Herr General
+Controller knows,--secretly under British leadership--upon the City
+of Mecca seized in June and annexed Akaba in July."
+
+"And is now wrecking trains on the Hedjaz Rail, containing German
+Ottoman forces, under the very noses of our Allied patrols,--blowing
+Turkish Railway-bridges with charges of nitro-glycerine sky-high--and
+in the North and East our rearguards harassing. _Donnerwetter!_ Why
+is this rogue of an Arab not in fetters? What makes he, hanging
+about trains containing military officials of the Fatherland?"
+
+"Because, Herr General, the Emir Fadl Anga and his followers are of
+those who the solid worth and philanthropic aims of Germany
+recognise, and scorn the windy emptiness and rapacious greed of
+England, the Great Swashbuckler.... They what we Germans have done
+for the Turkish Army also see--and are convinced that under similar
+auspices, Arabia, hand in hand with Egypt and India, might become a
+powerful and war-capable State. Emir Fadl Anga estimates the number
+of his party--headed by a nephew of the Mecca Sherif--as very
+considerable. 'They are many,' he in his Oriental hyperbole, says,
+'as the stars of Heaven, or the Desert sands!' Also, information has
+by him been supplied, which, had the difference between German and
+Arabic clock-time at our Shechem Headquarters been better
+understood--might have resulted in a _Handstreich_ very gratifying to
+Imperial Majesty at Berlin. The officer guilty of this so gross
+ignorance was brought to a drumhead Court Martial and degraded, the
+Herr General will be pleased to hear! However, the Emir's intentions
+were agreed to be excellent, and he has now brought us a basket of
+carrier-pigeons from his Chief, the nephew of the Sherif--and the
+Emir is to convey back with him of these birds a similar basket,
+trained at the Nazareth Headquarters of the Herr General-in-Chief,
+Liman von Sanders--as soon as the pigeon-master-Sergeant with them
+arrives.... Also, this is good beer! What does the Herr General say
+to another bottle?"
+
+"_Ja, ja_. _Mit Vergnügen_. It is hellishly hot! ..."
+
+The Emir Fadl Anga, ingenious purveyor of genuine but post-dated
+intelligence--salutes gravely, and wheels his dapple-grey about as
+the composite train bumps out of Nakr. A muscle in his lean, dark
+cheek jerks, and his thin lips under the Arab beard smile
+scornfully--as his glance falls on the rank-and-file of the War
+Prisoners--clustered on the platform beside the iron way....
+
+They are hot, faint and weary under the bite of the sun, amidst this
+jumble of naked hills, on whose chalk and limestone knees they have
+driven elaborate systems of trenches for the enemy, under the lash of
+the loaded hide-whips. But Barney Mossam, with a split top-lip and a
+scarlet gap where several front teeth are missing, is making a
+gallant effort to buck the others. In the middle of a spirited
+rendering of "I HAVEN'T seen the Kaiser for a VERY long time. He's
+the leader of a German Band, an' he AIN'T no cousin of mine!"--breaks
+in the fierce interruption of an Arab voice, bitterly abusive:
+
+"You--O you! Sons of _farrâshes_ prostitute concubines!--silence
+that brother of howling apes!"
+
+Thrusting his lance-butt in the embroidered leathern bucket, Fadl
+Anga leans low from his saddle--appears to pick up something, no
+doubt a pebble--rises erect, and hurls the missile savagely into the
+brown of the crowd of men. It hits Barney, who picks it up, and
+white teeth flash in the black beards of the other mounted Arabs, and
+a laugh goes up from the Turkish guards, who are smoking and chatting
+and eating water-melons, as the supposed emissary of the traitorous
+nephew of the Sherif of Mecca touches his mare with the sharp edge of
+the broad copper stirrup--and with a ringing shout of _"Allah ho
+Akbar!_" gallops down the rocky road towards Shechem, followed by his
+two companions, and leaving Barney Mossam gaping--with an embroidered
+Arab purse--heavy with Turkish silver coins, clutched in his hand....
+
+Long before the composite train went jolting out of Nakr the keen
+grey eyes under the _kuffiyeh_ of Fadl Anga--eyes less miserable now
+that by day and night sharp danger gives a spice to life, so empty
+void of Katharine--have assured their owner, Edward Yaill,--that
+Julian Forbis is not with the officers in the cattle-trucks any more
+than he is with the men clustered like swarming bees upon the
+grilling platform, beside the iron track.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+The weather changes before dawn. Soggy clouds roll inland from the
+sea, hide the sky of Eastern azure, blot out the shining faces of the
+stars and invest the pale beauty of the Queen Planet of Night with
+the flowing sable veil of a recent War Widow. It has come on to
+rain--a slashing downpour of Palestinian intensity, under which the
+wadis speedily become shallow cataracts of khaki water--the trenches
+slashed in the terraced Judæan Hills, and manned by Turks, Germans,
+or British Crusaders--mere troughs of sandy or chalky mud.
+
+Sangars ramparted with boulders may offer some practical assurance
+against shell-splinters or bullets, but against rain like this they
+offer no security. Bivouacs built of stones, and roofed with
+ground-sheets may in some degree keep out the rain, but they freely
+admit the cold. A Scotch mist, clammy, freezing and blinding in its
+damp opaqueness blankets the Hills of Ephraim, and broods over the
+Maritime Plain, as on the edge of one of the limestone terraces that
+fringe the robe of Mount Ebal,--a big, brawny Arab sits--nursing a
+badly-ricked ankle, and swearing in the fruitiest vernacular of his
+adopted land.
+
+It is lucky for the Arab in the brown camel-hair shirt, striped
+_abâyi_ and roped white linen head-cloth, that he has no audience but
+the scorpions and lizards sheltering from the slashing downpour under
+the grey-white boulders--as he rocks himself and nurses his ricked
+ankle--and curses his luck. Presently, as the Scotch mist lifts, and
+the plain is irradiated by the watery moonlight, he sets his teeth
+for an effort and crawls to where a bundle tied in native cloth, and
+a long, metal-tipped Arab walking-staff lie on the chalky, puddled
+plain where they fell when he dropped them from the machine at the
+beginning of the volplane, and screwed himself as the plain rushed
+up, to wait the throttling down of the engine--the long, smooth final
+glide--the flattening out following the pilot's raising of the
+lever--and the slight jarring impact of the thick-tyred wheels with
+the ground....
+
+"_Now_ jump!" the sharp, strident voice of the Egyptian called when
+the expected shock seemed imminent, and John Hazel set his teeth and
+jumped promptly. Aware even before he crashed to ground that the
+word had been given too soon. Even as he sprawled on the chalky
+plain, with all the wind knocked out of his body--the machine just
+missed landing on top of him. How he rolled out of the way of the
+thick squat wheels, and the steel framework of the under-carriage of
+the biplane, a powerful and heavy machine of D.H.6 type--he does not
+know now....
+
+Sick, faint and shaken, he picked himself up, but not before
+Essenian, lithe as an acrobat, freed himself from the safety-belt,
+jumped out, adjusted the controls, and swung the big propeller. As
+the engine started he leaped back to his seat, looked round at Hazel,
+shouted "Good-bye!" and opening the throttle, raced over the plain,
+and rushed up into the air as though pursued by a fusillade of
+machine-gun bullets.
+
+
+"Damn and blast the Egyptian beast!" John snarls, and, as the ricked
+joint rapidly swells to cricket-ball size, swears again, and thinks
+as he rubs it, "Might have guessed he was out for some treachery or
+other. Though how could I?--until he signalled to the enemy over
+Shechem by firing the Verey light, and gave away the whole show by
+dropping a message-bag! Making me swear before the start by all we
+Hazels hold most holy, never by word or sign to let out anything I
+might see him do. Consequently I'm his confederate--tarred with the
+same brush. And now I know he murdered Captain Usborn! It was his
+own revolver-bullet I showed him at the Club. If ever I get out of
+here I stand some chance of getting shot myself for being back at the
+Front on the quiet when I'm supposed to be on leave in Alex. But
+anyhow I hope I'll see Essenian Pasha get his dose of British lead
+before I do. Unless I get a chance to settle him myself. Wouldn't I
+let the beggar have it! Right in the neck--where Winnie wore the
+beads. But what a flier! Holy Smoke! what an A1. flier! Unless
+he's a devil, which I trend to believe!--there's not a man his match."
+
+The rain that began at two a.m. by his wrist-watch (hidden under a
+broad band of untanned sheep-leather, laced on John's big wrist by a
+slender thong) shows no sign of abating. Fitfully and at intervals
+through the night, those guns in the west and south have held debate.
+Now they begin again with redoubled energy. John has seen as the
+D.H.6 travelled through the clear azure Palestine night, how the
+enemy's line has been thrust back from Gaza towards Jaffa. Now with
+a great blowing-up of Turco German ammunition-dumps, Junction
+Station,--key of the northern railway system--announces to the
+echoing hills the success of British arms.
+
+"Good for us!" John chuckles, rather drearily--as the sullen sky in
+the south is illuminated by Aurora Borealis-like effects of orange,
+green and crimson--and Brock-like sheaves of flame spurt from the
+horizon to descend in gold and silver showers. "Djemal Pasha's
+Fourth Army Corps seems to be getting it rather badly. We're putting
+the breeze up Von Kressenstein, unless I much mistake...."
+
+
+Even as John Hazel hugs the thought, the train containing Djemal
+Pasha's German Corps Commander is rushing towards Jerusalem. The
+Turco-German Army, broken in two, is retiring eastwards upon the Holy
+City and north-west through Ramleh towards Tul Keram. The brigades
+that rolled into Shechem overnight--rested and fed, are rolling out
+again. Fresh batteries from the Caucasus, diverted from Mesopotamia,
+new battalions of infantry of the Redif and Mustafiz, and brigades of
+irregular Cavalry from Kurdistan and Northern Albania, are swarming
+down to reinforce the Nizam and its Ikhtiât.
+
+Dawn comes with cessation of the freezing, pelting rain and the sun
+glows fiery red through the curtain of leaden-coloured mists that yet
+hang over the Mediterranean. Wounded and stragglers on foot, German
+Army motor-lorries laden with escaping Teuton officers, begin to
+arrive at the Holy City. It is whispered in Jerusalem the Weary that
+the days of Ottoman rule in Palestine are numbered, that the German,
+Turkish and Austrian officials and residents are even now preparing
+to quit the town. And indeed German depots are hurriedly emptied;
+sugar sold as cheap as the dirt that is in it--long held-up flour and
+cereals disposed of in haste. From the high towers of the City and
+from the Mount of Olives one can see the roads that are muddy
+now--and will be dusty presently, crowded with lorries, carts and
+pack-animals carrying fugitives with their baggage, munitions and
+essential stores, north to Shechem or east to Jericho....
+
+John, unaware of this, yet senses great happenings, as he stands
+propped on his Arab staff, cursing the temporary uselessness of a man
+with a sprained ankle-joint. He must lie up somewhere until the
+anguish abates and the cricket-ball reduces. A hut--there are
+clusters of drab-white specks, indicating a village on the northern
+fringes of the stretch of plain--boulder-strewn, bush-dotted, thinly
+grassed, thick with tufts of mandrake and tall blue Campanulas, and
+knee-deep in growth of late-blooming, white and yellow asphodel--on
+which Essenian elected to come down.... Westwards towards the sea
+there are other, larger villages. South there is a broad defile,
+curving east between humpy limestone hills, leading, John knows, to
+the town of Shechem. Over him rises the huge and bulky Shape of
+Ebal, three thousand six hundred and ninety feet above sea-level.
+From terrace to terrace, a path winds up to her towering rounded
+crest between hedges of tamarisk, broad-leaved grey-green cactus, and
+prickly pear plentifully laden with knobby red fruit. On her summit
+the map has shown John the ruins of an ancient fortress. Near the
+top, on this, the west side--stands a little whitewashed cupola
+surmounting a wall of mud and stone encircling a Moslem well.
+
+Water is there; and hidden away with his revolver and cartridges on
+John's big person, is a case of First Aid necessaries, a small flask
+of brandy and some meat-lozenges in case of need like this. He
+determines to crawl up to the place of the well, hide, and doctor
+himself for a day, or even two days until the sprain is reduced, and
+he can get about.
+
+"Hard luck," he mutters to himself, "but there's no good in
+grousing.... Now buck up and help me--O all you Big Old Men!"
+
+But the Big Old Men give no sign, and their descendant, shouldering
+his bundle (to bear out his role of Arab there ought to be a donkey
+or a woman to carry it), limps, leaning on his staff and sweating
+with pain, up the narrow pathway leading between the hedges of cactus
+and prickly pear.
+
+Blood-red, the Sun rises over the distant horizon, the glittering
+drops upon the leaves, the drying puddles under John's naked,
+slippered feet are reddened by the reflection. From the broad,
+prickly leaves the wet begins to steam; the tufts of snapdragon, pink
+and crimson, white and yellow and orange; and the blue campanulas,
+growing in the tissues of the rock, stand gallantly upright,
+refreshed by the dampness; the lily-like asphodel exhales its
+delicate, characteristic smell.
+
+There are goats on the Mount, John notices, presently. Their
+droppings are thick upon the path he climbs. He hears them bleating,
+and sees them, feeding under the ruins of the Fortress. Indeed, the
+next wind of the path brings him out upon a ledge where a
+heavy-uddered female is cropping the thyme that grows there, with a
+jet-black kid nuzzling at her side. If one could catch the mother,
+thinks John, the question of subsisting here for days would be easily
+settled. Prickly pears are eatable.... Goat's milk is good....
+There were lots of milch-goats in the caves of Sheria, and modern
+Crusaders, dry with the drouth of battle, and as yet uncertain
+whether the enemy had not poisoned the wells--milked the goats into
+their tin hats and other receptacles, and drank and were mightily
+refreshed. If only--even as John licks his lips, the too-nimble
+dairy, skipping from ledge to ledge, recedes from view. Bleating,
+the little black kid scrambles after her--and the Moslem well near
+the summit of Ebal seems farther off than it did before.
+
+John sees now a path, branching off to his right hand, which may lead
+to the hut or cave of the goatherd. He strikes out upon it, and
+makes some progress, until the curve of it, trending southwards,
+suddenly shows him a narrow road, deeply rutted with broad-tyred
+wheels, and pitted with hoof-prints, leading up the Mount from its
+base on the south-eastern side. The erect brown figure of a
+sentry--reduced by distance to the size of a doll--stands out against
+the background. A Turkish Artillery waggon is jolting up the steep
+roadway.... John hears the panting of the toiling horses, the creak
+of the straining rope traces, the jingle of chains and the cracking
+of the drivers' thick-lashed whips....
+
+From behind a bush he now looks down into a sangar built of boulders,
+sheltered at one end with green tarpaulin and full of Turkish
+machine-guns. The tarpaulin quivers with the snores of sleeping
+gunners, whose legs project beyond it, and from a nest of camouflage
+lower down the mountain, the blunt nose of a howitzer snuffs at the
+sky.
+
+Still farther south a Field battery of Krupps has been posted on the
+flank of Ebal; the whinnying of horses eager for their morning barley
+and forage comes from a hollow where the Turks have stabled their
+teams, the smell of some aromatic burning wood spices the air with
+sweetness. Blue smoke columns up from fires of hidden bivouacs.
+There are picquets along the foothills, and on the plain are
+outposts. The Mount--except on the west and north whence danger is
+not apprehended--has been converted into a veritable wasps' nest.
+
+Holding his breath, John Hazel turns, and noiselessly retraces his
+footsteps between the cactus hedges and along the path to where it
+first branched off. As he sets his lame foot gingerly upon it, he
+encounters a veiled native woman, toiling upwards, who carries--not
+an excessive burden in this land of laden women--a bundle of canes,
+and an empty gourd, and has a coarse jar of red earthenware balanced
+on her head.
+
+Perhaps the earthen Jar contains water, or milk, or _laban_, that
+mixture of excessively sour milk with finely-chopped mint, peculiar
+to Syria. The bare idea intensifies John's thirst.
+
+"O my mother!" he begins in quite passable Arabic: "In the name of
+Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate--"
+
+"_Ai--e!_" The woman has started and dropped the gourd, and stands
+before him trembling, "What--what wouldst thou?"
+
+"Somewhat to wet my throat. Thou lookest on a thirsty man. Hast
+thou, by any lucky chance, drink in the vessel?"
+
+"The vessel is empty. See you, I have spoken truth!" She takes the
+jar from her veiled head and turns it upside down, and John's heart
+sinks to the bottom of his famished stomach. "May God relieve your
+need! ..."
+
+"Allah favour thee! Black is my fortune. Thou seest," he thrusts
+out the swollen foot with the bulge at the side of the ankle-joint,
+"what evil has befallen me through a slip upon the Mountain side."
+
+"It hurts thee? ..." He cannot see the hidden face, but in the faint
+voice there is a note of pity....
+
+"_Wallah_! It hurts like very hell! Worse than the hurt is the
+lameness. Now hear! By the life of my head I say: If thou, being a
+woman, couldst help it somewhat! ... If thou knewest a place of
+shelter where I could lie and tend the hurt, and--and--have somewhat
+to eat and drink while it was mending, for this I would pay thee. By
+Allah! I am no beggar, I!"
+
+The Fellaha thinks, while a little dusky hand holds the edges of her
+veil together. Then she says faintly:
+
+"_Ala râsi_. I have--I know of a place of shelter. It is not very
+far from here. There thou couldst lie, it is a cave between two
+boulders and I would bring thee food and drink."
+
+"Allah requite thee, O my sister! ..."
+
+"Come, then, Sidi!" She returns her empty vessel to its place upon
+her head, with the deft, accustomed swing of the Eastern woman, and
+moves on before him, striking into another lateral path, a mere
+goat-track to the unpractised eye, that scores the mountain-side,
+running north. For perhaps a quarter of a mile her little bending
+figure hurries along and the tall Arab, leaning on his staff, hobbles
+painfully after. Where the cave between two boulders is--and less a
+cave than a hollow under a projecting ledge of nummulite
+limestone--he finds her waiting him....
+
+"In here, Sidi!"
+
+"Call me not Sidi! I am no person of degree." John thinks it well
+to try on the woman the story he has invented. "No person of degree
+am I. Only Ali Zaybak the Bedawi, a man who once had three camels,
+and ten sheep, and five goats, and a father and two brothers, and a
+wife also; and now has none; my brothers, my wife and two camels
+being killed and all the rest lost...."
+
+"May the Dispenser of Mercies atone to thee, O Ali Zaybak!" says the
+thin faded voice from under the woman's veil. "How came about thy
+loss? From whom dost thou claim the blood-wreaks?"
+
+"From the Inglizi, (English) the thrice-accursed ones! who came
+flying over our village--we dwelling in the Shadow of Allah in the
+caves of the Wadi Sheria--I and my brothers having bought exemption
+from service with the Army of the Osmanli (Turks) with the savings of
+all our lives."
+
+"Ay, ay," the thin voice assents, bitterly. "Few and small were the
+gold and silver coins remaining on thy wife's head-tire, when the
+Dispensers of Exemption had signed thy card."
+
+"Verily, Allah be my witness! and it is a black shame to take the
+money that was the woman's marriage-gift. We were then very
+poor--but we had the three camels and the sheep and the goats
+also--though the beasts were little and thin. Then came the War,
+rolling all about us--with marchings and counter-marchings of hosts
+of men--and we sent my brothers south so that they might sell to the
+Inglizi soldiers before Gaza, all the olives stored in old oil-tins,
+and all the oranges, and tobacco, and grape-treacle, and figs of last
+year, that the Almani and Osmanli had not taken away...." John
+cannot for the life of him restrain this vitriolic touch. "And they
+went, and made much money--the Inglizi being fools and wealthy,
+moreover--as all these sons of Sheitan are. This was in the month
+Shbât; and coming home my two brothers encountered Fate, in the
+person of a Commander of the Almani (Germans), who seized upon the
+young men--they being far from their native village and not having
+their _warakas_ of Exemption on them--and sent them to dig trenches
+at the Bir-es Saba Works."
+
+"A bitter tyranny the Most High beheld, and will avenge upon the
+doer!"
+
+"Then there was fighting at the Wady Sheria--because having taken the
+strong place of Bir-es Saba, ay! and the ridges down to the sea, the
+British desired the Place of Good Wells." John is beginning to
+believe in Ali Zaybak, the Bedawi farmer, to the point of getting hot
+over that individual's fictitious woes.... "Came they--they came,
+and were as hornets about us, their _killis_ bursting with stench,
+and smoke, and ruin--and their Devil-Birds fighting the Devil-Birds
+of the Almani, and driving them down out of the air. One dropped an
+egg of Eblis that killed two of our camels, and broke the leg of the
+third. My father cried out on Allah and fell face downwards.... So
+my wife cried out and fell, and when I went to lift them, lo!--they
+were dead.... Yet was there no wound on either.... _Wallah_! Upon
+neither was there a wound! ..."
+
+"Well do I believe thee. I have seen Death come after that fashion
+many times since the beginning of this War. What more, O Ali Zaybak?
+..."
+
+"This,--that my goats and sheep being gone from me--for the _Osmanli_
+took them when they retired before the Inglizi--I have come to
+Shechem to seek my brothers, if haply they be alive and there! ..."
+
+"Ay, but why seek them on the Mount of Cursing, and not within the
+town? ..."
+
+Woman-like, she has put her little wasted, dusky finger on the weak
+spot in John's trumped-up story. Having done it, she goes on, as he
+racks his brain for a sufficiently-convincing figment:
+
+"Thou wilt do this to-morrow, O Ali Zaybak the Bedawi, when the
+swelling of thy joint hath abated and thou art rested and fed. So
+creep in here between the stones--there is a sheepskin thou canst lie
+on--and in somewhat less than an hour I will come back to thee with
+food and drink."
+
+"May Allah prolong thy years, O woman!" says John with the
+extravagant hyperbole and the sing-song inflection proper to Oriental
+gratitude. "May thy fortune be doubled upon thee, and, fair as thou
+art already, may the radiance of thy beauty out-dazzle the full moon!"
+
+She gives a queer little rustling laugh behind the folds of her
+coarse, yellowish head-cloth.
+
+"Sweet words, sweet words from a widower bereaved in Shbât! Belike,"
+she cackles again, "thou hast come to the Mount of Cursing in search
+of another bride? Dost thou lust for the Unrevealed? See, then, O
+Ali Zaybak! what beauty hides behind this screen! ..."
+
+And accompanying the words with a swift revealing movement, she
+whisks back the heavy veil from that mutilated left side....
+
+"My God!" John very nearly exclaims, bleaching under his natural
+mahogany-colour, for a man old in War and hardened to the sight of
+wounded men may yet sicken at the sight of a woman mutilated like
+this. But he swallows the exclamation, and substitutes:
+
+"I--am sorry! May Allah pity thee, poor soul! ..."
+
+"And increase the wisdom of the Sidi! ..."
+
+The Fellaha is re-veiled and between the pendent linen folds comes
+her little rustling whisper; chilling the blood of the pretended Ali
+Zaybak, under the now nearly vertical rays of the blazing Syrian
+sun....
+
+"_Who, desiring Secret Intelligence for his War-Chiefs of the British
+Army, ventures into the midst of the enemy, disguised as an Arab and
+alone! ..._"
+
+
+The words drop, coldly as lumps of hail, on the adventurous heart of
+the man. Discovered, and in the first hour by a Syrian peasant
+woman.... He forgets his pain, and drawn to his full height, fixes
+his black eyes threateningly upon her hidden face.
+
+"What sayest thou? Hast thou no fear?"
+
+"None--of a British officer, nor of a British soldier!"
+
+The words, spoken in English with a Syrian-French accent, are such an
+unexpected shock, that John jolts temporarily back into his own
+adopted tongue:
+
+"How the hell--ahem! How did you know--I'm--what you say I am?"
+
+"Because" the voice is soft and refined, though it is thin and
+toneless: "Because--sir!--when I showed you my face--you did
+not--spit like a Mohammedan, or laugh like a German! And who"--the
+voice suggests the shadow of a mocking smile--"who but an Englishman
+would venture here--so ill-disguised and speaking such bad Arabic,
+and carry himself so confidently as almost to deceive me--in spite of
+the testimony of my two good ears--and my one very good eye."
+
+The poor face she has shown to John is blind on that shattered left
+side. He knows a thrill of pity even as he asks:
+
+"You won't give me away? ..."
+
+"If 'give away' means to betray--no, I will not betray you!"
+
+"Thanks. You're out Scouting on your own," says John, "unless I'm
+very much mistaken?" He adds still in English, as she lets this broad
+hint pass.... "Since we're to be pals of sorts, do you mind telling
+me your name? ..."
+
+She gives her faint little whispering laugh.
+
+"Ay, surely. It is Ummshni.... 'Mother Ugly' in your English
+tongue. In Arabic, 'Mother of Ugliness.' ...!"
+
+"But--but I can't call you that! ..."
+
+"You must. It is my name here. For you I have no other."
+
+"Then shake hands, little Ummshni," John says promptly, and thrusts
+out his own huge, brown right hand.
+
+"Need we?" She hesitates....
+
+He says, encouragingly:
+
+"Just once. To seal the bargain and show we're pals!"
+
+"Once then...."
+
+She hesitates an instant more. Now from enveloping folds, a small,
+shrunken, dusky hand steals out, and is engulfed in John's. And then
+a breathless cry, not loud, nor shrill, but terrible in its dire,
+agonised intensity bursts from the mouth of the distorted face that
+is mercifully hidden by the veil....
+
+"God of my fathers! Who art thou?" The gasped-out words are once
+more Arabic. "From whence didst thou get the Ring of the House of
+Hazaël? ... Thy face, too.... It is the face of Eli! Thy voice....
+Do not deny it! ... Thou art of the Blood! ..."
+
+"Since you know it already I'll tip you the garden truth. I'm John
+Benn Hazel, old Eli's grandson from London. But who in the name
+of--wonder--are you? ..."
+
+"Thy--thy unhappy Cousin Esther!" The words come stumblingly,
+between terrible, dry sobs.... "Oh, do not check me. Let me weep!
+I have not for so long! ..."
+
+"Now by--the whole blooming, blessed row of Big Old Men, back to the
+Very Biggest!" John says between his teeth, as leaning on his heavy
+staff he stands staring blankly down at a little heaving bundle of
+coarse and common feminine drapery that crouches at his big sandalled
+feet amidst the short thyme-scented grass, "This is--this is the
+cherry in the cocktail! Just when I'd begun to think I wouldn't
+carry through--comes along the very sort of little woman to help me!
+This isn't Coincidence or anything like it. This is--just--Fate! ..."
+
+"Help thee?" Her sobs have abated, she lifts up her bowed, head.
+"In what manner can I help thee? I can feed thee, tend thy hurt and
+hide thee. But there is something more than these.... Tell me what
+thou wouldst do? ..."
+
+"Save a man!" No one is near, but he whispers it, stooping over the
+little figure. "A War Prisoner they've got here. Get him out--and
+get him away! ..."
+
+"Yes--yes! Willingly will I help thee. Hath an Hazaël ever failed
+to answer to the Call of the Blood?" The little dusky hand clutches
+at his brawny wrist. She rises, and her eager breath mingles with
+his, and an eye diamond-bright, black as his own, flashes between her
+veils.... "What strength I have--what cunning and courage--are
+thine, to the threshold of Death and beyond it. But--but, John, my
+cousin! If I help thee to free thy man--thou must needs deliver
+mine."
+
+"I'm not sweet on conditions--they're things that handicap. Who's
+your man?" The tone is decidedly gruff.
+
+"He is an English officer.... There is no other in Shechem since the
+big German petrol lorries rolled out this morning. For the Turks
+have sent them all away ... I heard, to Aleppo."
+
+"The hell you say! Forgive me, little Esther, but this is--pretty
+rough! For I'm here--bad Arabic and all--on the track of a British
+War Prisoner."
+
+"Tell me his name," says the thin rustling voice, shaken still with
+emotion....
+
+"Julian Forbis.... Father Julian Forbis," John answers, and she
+falters:
+
+"O my cousin! in thine hour of need and mine the Most High, Blessed
+be He! hath verily sent thee. For--for--thy man and my man--are one!
+Come now to the secret place where I dwell alone with my sorrow.
+There we can talk freely--it is safer than here. Thy hand on my
+shoulder--what a big hand, like that of our grandfather Eli! ... Lean
+on thy staff, but on me too. I am stronger than thou wouldst
+dream...."
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+The line held yesterday by the Turco-German forces has bent
+northwards at its western extremity, and southwards at its eastern
+end. Jaffa, the ancient Port of Jerusalem, has been occupied by
+Allenby's forces. Junction Station, the key of the north, now being
+in British hands, the enemy's Army, cut in two, has retired partly
+east into the mountains towards Jerusalem, and partly northwards
+along the Coastal Plain. The nearest line upon which its several
+portions can re-unite is the line Tul-Keram, Shechem. Reports from
+the Royal Flying Corps indicate the intention of Djemal Pasha and the
+other Corps Commanders to evacuate Jerusalem and withdraw to organise
+on the line Tul-Keram, Shechem.
+
+It being vital to obtain a hold of this invaluable artery of
+thoroughfare, which traverses the Judæan range from north to south
+from Shechem to Jerusalem,--our Advance has wheeled to the right, and
+struck into the Hills with the object of wresting from the enemy the
+Jerusalem-Shechem Road.
+
+At the eastern end of the long fish-shaped valley, whose sides are
+shagged with olive-woods and running with springs, and in which lies
+Shechem, is a grassy, level expanse in the shape of an isosceles
+triangle--one of its longer sides being the road that runs east and
+west past the new Turkish Barracks, the Arsenal and the Hospital--and
+the other the road that--north of this--passing the Mohammedan
+Cemetery and the ancient Tombs that are upon the fringe of the
+limestone robe of Ebal, runs into an ancient Roman road, that
+completing the shape of the isosceles, goes north along the eastern
+flank of Mount Ebal to the little hamlet of Sichar, and south to the
+Holy City,--leaving on the left a Mohammedan well that has been built
+over the Tomb of Joseph, and some quarter of a mile farther on, a
+hillock shaded by mulberries and figs, and covered with ruins,
+enclosing _Bir Samariyeh_, or the Samaritan Woman's Well.
+
+The top of the triangular patch of waste ground ends at the very gate
+of Shechem, being lost in the great mounds of immemorial ashes,
+brought down in ancient days from the Temple on Mount Gerizim. Wild
+fig and mulberry, olive and tamarisk--and thickets of the _zizyphus_
+set with formidable thorns, that give the tree its name of Spina
+Christi--make a shabby jungle of the Ash Heaps, haunted by kites,
+crows and owls, pariah-dogs and jackals, who come to feast where the
+offal and refuse of the town are thrown. Here, too, lepers
+congregate; sick animals are thrust to die, dead ones are thrown to
+bleach and putrefy; and sometimes--even before the War--bodies of
+people robbed and murdered, or too destitute of friends to be given
+burial--huddle amongst the rank weeds and tangled undergrowth, or lie
+stark and dreadful, with blind eyes beaten by the lashing rains of
+Palestine, or staring at its pitiless sun.
+
+
+When Allied War Prisoners first came to the town of Shechem, the
+isosceles triangle of waste ground--its shortest side indicated by
+the road that runs by the Tomb of Joseph towards the Well of the
+Samaritaness--was enclosed within a twelve-foot double fence of
+German barbed-wire, for the keeping of certain French and British
+officers, who declined to give parole. These lived in Turkish Army
+tents and messed in a ramshackle wooden hut near the eastern end of
+the enclosure; their rations, such as they were, being brought from
+the Turkish Barracks twice a day. Those officers who gave parole,
+causing less trouble to the authorities--were somewhat better
+treated, it may be allowed. The old stone prison near the Suk was
+alloted as their quarters. They were permitted to take exercise
+within certain bounds, even to visit the Latin Fathers, and the
+headquarters of the Protestant Mission, and better their diet by
+making purchases in the town bazar. To-day, Shechem, with her
+numerous mosques and her flat-brown roofs embowered in orange and
+pomegranate-trees--is bursting full of Turkish troops, and their
+German military masters; and destined ere long to rival Tul Keram as
+an Army H.Q. No British War Prisoners are left in her since the
+exodus of early morning, save four Berkshire and Devon Yeomen lying
+desperately sick at the Turkish Hospital--two London Territorials,
+and three Indian troopers in the charitable care of the Sœurs de
+la Sainte Croix....
+
+Ah, and the solitary captive of the leaky wooden shanty in the Wired
+Enclosure, from which the Turkish Army tents have been removed,
+leaving round yellow patches of parched and trampled grass. Saving
+the Bey, certain of his German friends, several Mounted Police, and a
+guard of infantry from the mud Barracks--no other persons in Shechem
+suspect that Father Julian Forbis did not leave yesterday for Aleppo
+with the other British officers,--though possibly that dust-like one,
+the Mother of Ugliness, may have a certain inkling of the truth.
+
+Upon a native _anghareb_, a short-legged, palm-wood bed-frame with
+coarse sacking laced upon it, he lies within the hut that used to be
+the Mess. Although it leaks in the winter rains, its timbers are of
+solid oak, and its door is heavy, and secured on the outside by a
+huge wooden lock. A padlocked iron fetter on the priest's ankle is
+linked to a chain finishing in a ring, running on an iron bar,--the
+ends of which, being bent, have been driven into the corner-posts at
+the end of the hut that is farthest from the door. Having thus
+secured the prisoner, the _bash-châwush_ of Mounted Police went away
+with his troopers and the escort. That was yesterday morning,
+possibly in the neighbourhood of nine o'clock. The common watch of
+gun-metal on the priest's wrist has stopped--as the result of brutal
+usage.... He can only calculate Time by the prayer-call from the
+mosques of the town....
+
+No hint of the possible length of his confinement has been given, the
+_bash-châwush_ being an old hand and quite thoroughly understanding
+the torture of Uncertainty. No food was brought the prisoner
+yesterday or to-day; they have not even given him water.... Nothing
+has passed the man's lips--since on that morning of the Bey's visit
+he broke fast with the thin boiled wheat-porridge and the black bread
+on which War Prisoners are fed.
+
+Mere hunger he can endure.... As a Religious of a strict Order he is
+well inured to fasting. But the thirst, aggravated by mental
+distress, sleeplessness and anxiety, is torture. His lips are
+cracked, and his throat and tongue so dried and leathery, that the
+effort to speak above a whisper would be positive pain.
+
+The two narrow apertures that serve as windows are some eight feet
+above the floor-level. It is not possible to see out of them.
+Through chinks and knot-holes in the walls of stout though ancient
+timbers--it might be possible to get a glimpse through the
+twelve-foot fence of barbed-wire--out upon the road running east from
+the gates of the city, and the road running north and east by the
+Wadi Farab to the Jordan Valley, and southwards from Shechem to
+Jerusalem.... But the man chained to the iron bar lies in a feverish
+stupor on the sacking of the _anghareb_. There are strange noises in
+his ears like the clamour of voices in many tongues--like the clatter
+of innumerable hoofs, the rattle of wooden wheels and the vibrating
+grind and din of heavy motor-traffic; but he is too faint and weary
+to be curious as to their cause.
+
+We know, that even as reinforcements of Turkish troops of the Redif
+and Mustaphiz are being rushed from the Caucasus to form reserves
+upon the fissured Plain of Ephraim--has begun the exodus of such
+inhabitants of Jerusalem as are not strict Mohammedans--or known to
+be Turco-German in views and sympathies.... Since the noon
+prayer-call, vehicles of every type, loaded with fugitives of the
+better class, have been rolling into Shechem, the roads leading to
+the town are blocked--a haze of dust envelops everything since the
+sun dried up the torrents of rain that fell at break of day....
+
+Came yesterday, Von Geierstein, the once famous War Minister--now
+Field Marshal and Commander-in-Chief on Germany's Battle Front in
+Asia--post haste from his Great Headquarters at the red city of
+Aleppo. To meet Enver Pasha, Djemal, and the other Turkish
+Commanders at Jerusalem, harangue the defeated generals, and
+reorganise the Turco-German War Plan on more successful lines....
+
+Fallen into eclipse at the Court of Berlin as the result of his
+military failures at Verdun, horribly disconcerted by the disaster of
+the Vulkan Pass, inexpressibly sickened by the taking of Beersheba,
+the fall of Gaza and the loss of Junction Station,--the brilliant
+ex-favourite of Imperial Majesty (whose ambition has had more to do
+with the kindling of the brand of War than that of any other man in
+Germany--saving Von Tirpitz)--after warning Enver and Djemal of the
+uselessness of endeavouring to hold Jerusalem now the Gaza Line has
+been broken--left the Holy City this morning for Shechem, in his
+Œstler-Daimler, another with his Staff Officers, following, half
+his escort of armoured Scheff cars preceding him--the remainder, with
+his servants, bringing up the rear.
+
+Even as the Governor, Izzet Bey, and Ali Fuad Pasha, Commander of
+Turkish Forces in the Holy City--issue the proclamations of their
+masters to the people, our troops are pushing up the passes into the
+Judæan Highlands; the sound of British guns comes even from the Vale
+of Sorek, thenceforward the din of battle grows louder hour by
+hour....
+
+Already in Shechem, in Samaria and in Jericho--whither the Latin,
+Greek, Armenian and Coptic Patriarchs have been forcibly deported,
+with other ecclesiastics and notables, and wealthy Zionist
+Hebrews--the reign of terror that has prevailed in Jerusalem since
+Turkey joined issues with Germany--has begun. Ten Turkish pounds are
+asked, and got, by Mohammedan drivers for a seat in a carriage.
+Large numbers of the wealthier inhabitants, with the remaining chiefs
+of religious communities, have been warned by the Turkish Police to
+be in readiness for exile. No more vehicles being available for the
+transport of the victims, Djemal Pasha--venomous always, seasons the
+order with the intimation that the deported population will be
+compelled to travel on foot....
+
+Spies swarm everywhere. Fear presses like a heavy hand upon the
+public mouth. Arrests, confiscations and requisitions
+redouble--populations quail under the lash of tyranny. Gallows are
+set up at the Jaffa Gate--there are hangings and shootings daily.
+The bodies of the victims of the last battue are left exposed for
+hours, to impress upon the population that, after four centuries of
+oppression, the Tartar is not disposed to surrender one of the Holy
+Cities of the Turkish Caliphate without a final orgie of extortion,
+brow-beating and blood.
+
+
+The day wears on, no succour comes, and the priest's stupor of
+exhaustion deepens. Towards sunset there is a heavy knock upon the
+door of the hut.
+
+"Come in!"
+
+The captive's first effort to speak aloud results in a croaking
+whisper. The heavy Turkish lock scroops in its wooden mortice, and
+something like a smile twitches the lips of Julian Forbis. Is it not
+the very brutality of irony to knock upon a starving prisoner's door?
+
+Now the door swings inwards, letting in a wedge of noon-tide
+brightness, but the visitors delay a moment on the threshold. And a
+strange voice says, as though in answer to a question, speaking in
+cultured Arabic, softly and melodiously:
+
+"No! Nothing may be done in the Holy City; the influences there are
+too adverse. But at Banias!--and here on Mount Gerizim--"
+
+Even as the utterance strikes with a strange, premonitory shock and
+thrill upon the consciousness of the prisoner, the door is pushed
+open to admit three men.
+
+Two German Staff officers, tall, burly and swaggering, and a slight
+man, dark-hued as smoke, bearded, and of forbiddingly handsome
+countenance, arrayed in a dazzlingly white brocaded silk _kaftan_,
+girt with a gold embroidered crimson cincture, and a flowing
+_kuffiyeh_ or head-drapery of the same fierce sanguinary colour,
+bound with a thick twist of silver and gold cords.
+
+Two German officers of inferior rank, with a lieutenant and
+sergeant-major of Turkish Mounted Police and several troopers, are
+seen beyond the threshold. Now the heavy door shuts the four men in
+together.... The priest lowers his feet to the stamped earth floor
+and rises to receive the visitors. But so weak is he that he
+totters, and sways as though about to fall.
+
+
+His giddiness passing with the dimness of his sight, he discerns that
+one of his visitors is the tall, sunburned, trap-mouthed German
+general who visited the Barracks yesterday in company of the Bey, and
+whose order put the period of a shot from a gendarme's repeating
+Winchester, to Govan's crazy song.
+
+His companion is a handsome person, as yet in the early fifties,
+superbly built and of heroic size and stature. The grey-green Field
+Service dress suits him to admiration; not a button or buckle is out
+of its true alignment; his gloves, belts, revolver-holsters and boots
+are of immaculate earthy-brown. His spurs are of steel and gold; his
+single-breasted Norfolk-shaped Service jacket shows, as does the
+other man's, the narrow silver lace, the crimson collar-edging and
+shoulder-cords of the Great General Staff--the Iron Cross dangling at
+the buttonholes of both by its ribbon of black and white. Both wear
+the ribbons and brochettes of many decorations. But the taller man
+displays, in addition to these, the Order of the Prussian Black Eagle
+with diamond swords, hanging by a swivel under his collar-hook. And
+noting this distinction, together with the wearer's physical
+beauty--for he is yellow-haired, blue-eyed, straight-featured,
+handsome still, as the Viking hero of some old Teutonic Saga--it
+flashes on the priest as his own blue eyes, set in hollow caves of
+exhaustion and hunger, encounter the visitor's--that the man can be
+no other than the fallen favourite of the Emperor of Germany, now
+Commander-in-Chief of his army in Palestine....
+
+Nor is the priest's conjecture wrong. It is the man, weary and
+disgruntled, sick with conscious failure, savage at the fancied
+triumph of old rivals and ancient enemies--wounded in the one
+vulnerable spot of his hard, vain, shallow heart by the death of his
+son, a brave young Flying Officer--killed in a duel with a British
+airman in January, 1915.
+
+He spent last night at the old Army Headquarters, the Kaiserin
+Augusta Victoria Hospital on the Mount of Olives. Ah, with what
+heartiness has Von Geierstein cursed the Turks as he turned his back
+upon the Holy City; as his fleet of cars ate distance upon the road
+to Shechem--where he is to dine, and sleep, if he can. He is keenly
+alive to their military blunders. For there are good Teutonic brains
+behind the brilliant eyes that light the handsome face to which he
+owes his rescue from bankruptcy--and his subsequent promotion from
+the rank of Chief of the General Staff of the 4th Army Corps,
+Magdeburg, to the dignity of Prussian War Minister--and the more
+dubious position of alter ego to William of Hohenzollern.
+
+Over, over, the meteoric and splendid career. Fallen, beaten,
+ruined. Rich in the world's goods still, but bankrupt in the world's
+envying admiration. Left by the tide of Success on which he has
+floated so buoyantly,--he sees himself once more high and dry on the
+mudbank of Failure--not by the utmost expenditure of cleverness to be
+floated off again. His magnificent blue eyes are dark with wrath.
+He grinds his teeth, eminently white, and all his own--as he devotes
+the Ottoman Allies of Imperial Germany to the uttermost depths of
+Hell.
+
+Unlucky favourite! never again to draw all eyes in the White Hall of
+the Imperial Palace at Berlin, while morning sunshine, streaming
+through the tall windows, shines upon the opening Session of the
+Reichstag--makes glittering play with the silver livery of Prussian
+State flunkeys, and strikes multi-coloured sparks of fire from the
+decorations and military orders of the members of the Federal
+Council, ranged on the left of the Throne. Never again to stand, the
+dazzling centre of a blazing constellation of Generals, by the daïs
+under the black, red and white Canopy--topped with the blazon of that
+Bird of ill-odour, whose greedy claws and rapacious beak, and
+insatiate maw are not yet glutted--though twenty millions of men and
+women have perished to slake its quenchless thirst for human blood.
+
+
+"The Herr General Von Krafft, that you speak good German has informed
+me, Reverend Father? ..."
+
+His own English is guttural, but passably decent. The priest, master
+of several dead, and some half dozen modern tongues, replies as well
+as his parched throat and palate will allow. His German, the
+distinguished visitor concedes, is very good for an Englishman....
+
+"Though you belong to a Scotch family, I am given to understand by
+the Herr General.... I am deeply grieved that your much-desired
+reunion with your relatives has been farther delayed by your own
+unfortunate lack of tact. I refer to your regrettably-insolent
+treatment of the Bey, Our Ottoman Ally, who should command respect."
+
+He is sick to nausea of Germany's Ottoman Ally even as he says it.
+His handsome lips twist with hatred of all things of the Turk
+Turkish, under his glittering up-brushed moustache. He is revolted
+by the fetid, stifling hut, by the pallid prisoner chained to the
+dirty native bed, but most by the sense of Failure dominating
+everything....
+
+"_Over, over, over!_" says the voice that is always in his ears,
+sounding above the roar of moving Divisions and the crashing of
+artillery from the workshops of Krupp and Skoda, keeping time with
+the throbbing of the blood in his temples and the irregular beating
+of his wearied heart. "_Beaten, beaten, beaten! ... Fallen, fallen!
+... Total Kaput! ..._"
+
+"Sir--"
+
+Not "Your Excellency" or other flattering title. Under his lowered
+lids, set thickly with dark lashes,--they accused him of using
+cosmetics, in his younger, more effeminate days,--he looks at the
+wasted, high-bred face, and meets its pure glance. His dead son,
+killed at twenty-two in the air battle with the English aviator, had
+eyes like this man's.
+
+"Sir, an accusation similar to this was brought against me yesterday
+in the presence of," the blue eyes go dauntlessly to the other
+German's face, "General Von Krafft. I said then, as I reiterate
+now--that the charge is without foundation! As a man of honour and a
+Catholic priest, I deny it absolutely. I can bring creditable
+witnesses to refute it whenever there is need."
+
+"Kindly name your witnesses. Where are they to be found, sir?"
+
+They have all left for Aleppo, the priest remembers with a shock. He
+says, with a sinking heart:
+
+"The guards of the Barracks would give evidence in my favour."
+
+"It is they who accuse you! and I myself heard
+you-with-words-encourage, and saw you by gestures stimulate the
+mutineers to fresh acts of violence!"
+
+The harsh voice of the Bey's friend, the tall brick-faced General,
+says this with a rasp of something like ill-will. The priest draws
+himself proudly up and meets the glance of the false accuser.
+
+"Sir, I can only say that you--are mistaken."
+
+"Prisoner, though you be a priest, you shelter yourself behind a lie!"
+
+The white face flushes scarlet, and the blue eyes blaze indignantly.
+He draws from his tattered tunic-breast a small wooden Crucifix,
+touches the Feet of the Victim with his pale lips, and lifts the
+Crucifix high. As he does this the dark bearded man in the white
+silk _kaftan_ and crimson kuffiyeh glides hurriedly towards the door.
+
+"So help me God, I have spoken the truth!"
+
+Very quietly the words have been uttered. Thrusting the sacred
+symbol back within his breast, he confronts his enemies, awaiting
+what may come. The momentary silence past, the highest in military
+rank addresses the priest grandiloquently:
+
+"Prisoner, as the Military Representative in the East of His Imperial
+Majesty the Emperor of Germany, I assure you that investigation will
+be made into this affair. But as the testimony against you is
+absolutely unshakable," the tall and splendid personage who speaks
+gracefully salutes the brick-faced general, "it is equally my duty to
+tell you that the decision of your judges will go against your oath.
+As a guest of the Turkish Empire you will naturally be considerately
+treated--"
+
+The blue eyes meet his again.... _Gott im Himmel!_ how like the dead
+boy's.... The white lips smile ironically.... The weak voice rings
+strong:
+
+"Your words sound like sarcasm, sir, to the guest of the Turkish
+Empire, who has been confined without food or even water since early
+yesterday...."
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+The stuffy interior of the prison hut swims about the priest as he
+speaks. He sees a look of something like irritable compassion cross
+the handsome face on which his eyes are fixed. Its owner regrets the
+oversight, and will give orders that it shall not be repeated. Even
+as the prisoner voices thanks, he has a fleeting glimpse of an ugly,
+mocking grin on the flat brown features of the brick-faced German
+General. He hears a little, hateful, malicious laugh from the dark,
+bearded, white-robed personage who stands in the background.... He
+sees him approach the brick-faced man, and whisper in his ear.
+
+And his ordinary senses, wrought to preternatural acuteness by
+suspense, hunger and sleeplessness, and that sixth sense which
+belongs to some anointed Servants of Heaven, warn Julian Forbis--have
+warned him since the mysterious shock and thrill that accompanied the
+stranger's entrance--of something more than sinister--more than
+terrible or dangerous, in connection with this white-robed, bearded
+man. He feels, emanating from his personality, an aura of sheer
+Evil--poisonous to the soul's health, paralysing to the will....
+
+"I--"
+
+His voice dies away. He is dizzy with weakness. Lights flash before
+his eyes, the hut spins round, and the two tall German officers and
+the man in the red head-drapery seem to join in the giddy whirl. Now
+he staggers, and sinks down fainting, his head and shoulders resting
+against the framework of the bed:
+
+"It is damnable!" impatiently says the wearer of the Order of the
+Black Eagle, pulling out a gold pocket-flask, and finding it to be
+empty. "The man is dying--useless! See if there be not water
+somewhere. Tell somebody to bring some here! ..."
+
+"Immediately, Excellency."
+
+The flat-faced general is going to the hut door when the wearer of
+the red head-drapery gracefully interposes:
+
+"What says the Shaykh? ..."
+
+"Excellency, that wine will be better than water!--and that if you
+will observe a moment's silence, I will undertake that some shall be
+brought...."
+
+"Indeed. Most exceedingly interesting, my very dear friend Sadân!
+..."
+
+A meaning look is exchanged between the two German officers.
+Smiling, the smoke-dark, bearded man steps into the middle of the
+floor-space, faces to the East, and looks back at his companions,
+saying in a sharp, clear tone:
+
+"_Uskut!_ ... By your Excellency's leave, I must strictly enjoin
+respect--and silence...."
+
+He lifts the long, wide ends of his gold-embroidered girdle, with
+them covering his dark, slender, joined hands, and turns to the East
+again, saying: "_Dastûr!_ By Your Permission, O Ye Blessed Ones!
+..." Their spurred heels aligned, their hands rigidly at the salute,
+the two officers standing behind him, erect, unwinking and stiff,
+might be mistaken for coloured statues--save that their broad chests
+heave slightly with their noiseless breathing, and the glittering
+hairs of the Commander-in-Chief's moustache bristle like the whiskers
+of a watchful cat. There is a sobbing gasp or two from the fainting
+man lying propped against the _anghareb_; from the man in the red
+head-drapery, whose joined, covered hands are lifted--comes a
+sibilant low murmuring, but in the hut there is no other sound....
+
+Until with a sharp, hissing final utterance, that might be the close
+of an invocation, the covered hands of the Shaykh are lowered. He
+bows his red-veiled, gold-crowned head over them, and turns round
+with a flashing smile:
+
+"_Kolossal! Wunderbild!_" the Germans mutter, relaxing their
+attitudes of stiff respect, and exchanging glances of awe and
+astonishment....
+
+For whereas the dark hands beneath the girdle-flaps were empty, their
+slender fingers, now uncovered, are seen to be enlaced about the stem
+of a glittering beaker of delicate, iridescent glass or crystal,
+brimming with pinkish-tinted liquor that diffuses an exquisite
+bouquet upon the mouldy atmosphere of the hut.
+
+"It is nothing, O my lords! The Messengers are swift-winged and
+duteous," he says with his glittering smile....
+
+Both Germans hugely admire the marvellous glass vessel, but neither
+is over-eager to handle and examine it. Or, when pressed, to taste
+the fragrant wine, which the Shaykh Sadân proceeds to pour down the
+throat of the swooning prisoner, lifting his head and shoulders with
+an ease that shows the great strength latent in his own small-boned
+Asiatic frame and delicate extremities....
+
+The glass is nearly empty now, and between gulps of strange,
+poignant, reviving sweetness, Julian Forbis is coming to the use of
+his wits again.... As he sits up, then staggers to his feet by the
+help of a hand--he knows not whose!--except that it is small and
+strong, and that its strength is as unexpected as its deadly,
+stinging coldness--the Shaykh Sadân turns away and empties the
+remainder of the wine upon the beaten floor. A light flame flickers
+unperceived upon the spot as the earth drinks the liquor.... The
+Shaykh, smiling, offers the empty goblet to the German
+Commander-in-Chief.
+
+"Beautiful indeed. And of immense antiquity. The value of this must
+be great, very great! ..."
+
+Somewhat reluctantly the Chief has taken the thing, but its strange
+beauty and evident rarity tickle the _connoisseur_. It is thin as a
+soap-bubble, and as light. It might be blown of melted jewels--so
+dazzling are its minglings of ruby and topaz and jacinth,--of
+sapphire and emerald and dusky amethyst. Flawless, it rings like a
+bell as he taps it with his finger-nail. Now, wearying of the
+inanimate toy, he looks about for a shelf or table, but finds none;
+the hut being innocent of furniture other than the bed, a battered
+metal bowl lying in a corner, and a bottomless palm-wood stool....
+
+"Permit me, O Excellent Lord!"
+
+Seeing the Chief's evident difficulty, the Shaykh Sadân relieves him
+of the fragile goblet, and with supple ease and a graceful
+carelessness, sets it down upon the unsubstantial air. Where it
+stands a moment--under the surprised observation of the
+Commander-in-Chief and his satellite--until, with a slight yet
+perceptible shrinking of its outlines, and dulling of its
+jewel-bright colours--such as might have been observed in the
+soap-bubble to which it has been likened--it delicately vanishes
+away....
+
+"_Himmelkreuzbombenelement!_" sputters the brick-faced general. His
+dull eyes protrude with genuine alarm, and his morale having deserted
+him, he makes a hasty movement in the direction of the door.
+
+"See now, you have scared Von Krafft," says the Chief with a laugh
+that is not quite natural. "A hundred years ago, in England or in
+Germany, they would have burned you for that, O Shaykh Sadân!"
+
+"It may be, O Excellent Lord!" he answers with the smile that is so
+ingratiating and yet so sinister. "But not in Egypt--nor in Arabia,
+where--when the Lands of the North were girt with ice, and inhabited
+by savages, the Divine Art of Magic had for cycles of centuries been
+known.... Lo! the good Shiraz wine hath worked its own witchcraft.
+Speak to the priest now--and he will hear and understand...."
+
+"Prisoner, listen to me and prove yourself worthy of the
+consideration I have shown you. Admit frankly, that as a Catholic
+ecclesiastic, you have so far forgotten your cloth, and misconceived
+your duty, as to egg on the Allied War Prisoners of Germany and
+Turkey to insult their conquerors.... Append your signature to a
+confession of your offence, and in return take my assurance that what
+mercy it is possible to show you shall be extended forthwith...."
+
+The priest's thin face is suffused with crimson as he listens. He is
+bewildered; that wine was strangely potent in its effects. But his
+candid eyes rest quietly on the Chief's angry face and he answers
+without passion:
+
+"Sir, you have already heard me declare most solemnly, that I am
+guiltless of inciting the prisoners to rebel. Against their torture,
+and outrage at the hands of the Bey, I have protested strenuously,
+and will continue to do so as long as I have voice."
+
+"You persist in accusing the Bey of crime and violence?"
+
+"Most certainly and most truthfully I do!"
+
+"Das ist nicht wahr! Have I not already the testimony of my Staff
+Officer? Added to that of Hamid Bey, who is an honourable man.
+Consider, if you exhaust my intolerance, what fate awaits you! Admit
+your guilt, sign the paper, and you shall immediately be released
+from this vile place, and admitted to parole."
+
+"Sir, as a priest I refuse to accept your offered conditions! My
+body is your prisoner--my soul is not in your hands. Beware what you
+do! ... I refer my case to my Bishop--to the Latin Patriarch, and the
+other high Catholic dignitaries in Jerusalem...."
+
+"Were you in Jerusalem at this moment, my good sir!--they would be
+equally impotent to assist you." As the priest does not know that
+these ecclesiastics to whom he refers have been forcibly deported
+from the Holy City, the barbed point of the jest is lost on his
+ignorance. "For even if your protest reached them--which is
+unlikely!--after what fashion would these persons enforce their
+authority? ..."
+
+"I do not know! ..." The voice breaks upon a note of anguish, and
+the priest's head droops for a moment on his breast. He lifts it,
+and his hoarse, faint voice gathers power and rings out bravely.
+"But one thing I do know, that He Whom I serve and trust in, will not
+desert His poor servant in this extremity."
+
+"Your faith is more admirable than your wisdom, sir. But I will
+waste no more words upon your obstinacy. Understand, that if when I
+leave you," for he has lent his ear to a soft whisper on the part of
+the dark man in the red _kuffiyeh_, "the Shaykh Sadân will, of his
+goodness, endeavour to bring you to reason. If he does not
+succeed--I wash my hands of you! The Prison Commandant Hamid
+Bey,--whom you have so vilely slandered,--may deal with you as he
+will! ..."
+
+A terrible shudder convulses the priest's thin frame. As the heavy
+tread of the spurred boots shakes the crazy floor, words rush to his
+lips that--were they uttered--would be a cry of surrender. The
+footsteps reach the door, the door opens, but still his teeth are
+clenched and his lips firmly shut. His soul, beaten upon by gusts of
+terror, striving in blackness jagged with infernal lightnings, is
+like a ship in the fury of a cyclone. Of all the great and noble
+things--that are jewels in the crown of classic Literature, of all
+the texts of Holy Writ--of all the liturgies of the Mother Church,
+with which he has stored and enriched his memory--only six words come
+to him in his dire necessity:
+
+"_Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine!_"
+
+The door opens. Red sunset dyes the floor. The long shadows of the
+two German officers appear to stretch across a pool of blood. Now
+the door is shut, and Julian Forbis is alone with him from whom his
+spirit and flesh shrink in an agony of terror and loathing--all the
+more that his person is superbly handsome, that his smooth, cultured
+voice is exquisitely melodious--that from him radiates a power that
+allures, and persuades and charms.... He does not mock or gibe now.
+He is all delicate sympathy. But the priest traces the outline of
+the sneer through the smile of the Shaykh Sadân, and the mockery that
+grins behind the compassionate mask.
+
+
+"O Darweesh of the Inglizi, listen to the words of the Shaykh Sadân
+of the Beni Abba, a poor recluse of the Desert of Igidi! For believe
+me--I speak as a friend, and not as an enemy!" murmurs the smooth
+caressing voice,
+
+"Unhappy man, be not bigoted! ... This obduracy works to your own
+undoing. The great pity I--Sadân the Shaykh--feel for you--compels
+me to speak thus! Surely the garment of a priest is cut of the cloth
+of _tasalidn_--the rendering of obedience to superiors--and
+_tahammul_, endurance of injury.... And is not the heritage of the
+Prophets, Wisdom? And to prefer life to Death--is not that wise? ...
+And who gains Wisdom but at the cost of Sacrifice--ever since in the
+Spring-tide of the World, Isis--the Sister-Queen of King Osiris of
+Egypt, yielded her beauty to the Angel Amnaël, one of the Fallen Sons
+of Radiance,--in return for the secrets of Magic and Chemistry....
+Consider, also, that by this great Chief, on whose breath hangs thy
+life, but little is required of thee? Nothing injurious to thine
+honour, or inimical to British interests in the East. Yield, as
+under the death-threat!--for verily the mercies of a furious
+elephant--or a hungry lion--were preferable to those of Hamid Bey....
+Bear thy share! ... Do as thou art bidden--and solace thy soul by
+saying: '_This would I not have borne!--that would I not have
+done.... But He Who ruleth all things willed--and it was so? ..._'"
+
+Smiling, the speaker ceases, receiving answer:
+
+"Sir, I have no need for sugared sophisms, nor specious
+consolations.... I know too well the source from which they come.
+Set my hand to a lie will I never!--nor shield the crimes that a
+tyrant has committed--to save my body at the cost of my soul!"
+
+"'Your soul!...'"
+
+The last two words are re-echoed by the Shaykh with delicate
+contemptuousness.
+
+"Who barters in souls in these days, O priest?" he asks with terrible
+contempt, shrugging his supple shoulders. "For verily in the market
+they are as a worthless drug! ... Come! ... Decide, for I waste my
+kindness on you. What is your answer? Yes, or No? Here are paper,
+pen and ink." He draws an Arab writing-case from the folds of his
+girdle. "Write now, and sign...."
+
+"No!"
+
+Julian Forbis adds in a hoarse whisper--for the strength of the
+strange liquor he has drunk is ebbing out of him, as his numbing hand
+gropes blindly for something in his breast: "Tempt as you may, I
+shall not yield!--He Whom I serve being my helper! 'VADE RETRO
+SATANA! RECEDE A ME, MALEDICTE DIABOLI! IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII,
+ET SPIRITUS SANCTI. AMEN....'"
+
+In faith and courage he rises above his bodily weakness. He plucks
+from its concealment the hidden Symbol, and lifts it high as he
+utters the terrible words. And as they vibrate upon the sultry
+atmosphere, there goes forth a terrible, ear-splitting cry upon it,
+and a gust of air icy as the breath of the Polar frost, and dry as
+the wind of the Sahara--moans through the darkling place. He is
+alone, the Enemy has left him, and as Night falls, he sinks down
+senseless on the crazy floor of the hut.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+On the summit of Ebal, a little east of the ruined fortress, is the
+wreckage of _Khirbet Kuneisch_--in Syrian Arabic, "The Little
+Church." Some twelve feet distant from the skeleton of its tiny
+sanctuary there is a tomb hollowed in the living rock.
+
+And in this place the Mother of Ugliness dwells alone with her
+sorrow. Secured against the intrusion of the curious or thievish
+(did either discover the jealously-guarded secret) by the belief
+common to Syria and the East generally, that Afrits, ghouls, and
+vampires inhabit such ancient tombs.
+
+Goats are cropping the short, sweet herbage. They are Ummshni's and
+come--like the willow-wren and chiffchaff, the robin and the
+yellow-and-white European wagtail--at her low, twittering call.
+Others, feeding lower down on the wild gum-cistus and the thyme that
+clothe the crumbling limestone terraces, have recognised their
+mistress, and follow her footsteps, as, with the big hand of the lame
+Arab leaning on her frail shoulder, she toils up the path upon Ebal's
+northern side.
+
+"See, here is my little house, O Ali Zaybak, Bedawi...." Panting,
+she shows him a broken flight of limestone steps descending to the
+eastward-facing entrance of the tomb.
+
+Supported in deep-cut grooves, on either side the low square aperture
+that serves as the entrance, is the circular stone employed of old
+times as the door of such a burial place; a block of the shape and
+size of a millstone--having no central hole to admit the shaft. A
+knob that projects from the surface of the stone some three or four
+inches below its upper rim, and another at an equal distance above
+its lower rim, can be used as the fulcrums of the human lever, that
+when necessary, rolls back the stone. From within, the tomb can be
+opened or closed in the same way.
+
+"Canst thou roll away the stone, cousin?" asks Ummshni-Esther, "for
+'tis a task that tries me sorely. Yet must I ever close my little
+house in this fashion when I leave it,--more need than ever now since
+Turks came to the Mount!"
+
+"But if they came when thou wert here, and found the door open?" asks
+John Hazel, from midway down the steps.
+
+She nods her head, and from between the folds of the Syrian veil
+comes her dry, rustling chuckle.
+
+"Knowest thou what I would but need to do to send them down the
+Mountain quicker than they came up it? Even step boldly into the
+doorway, and--by the sunlight if 'twere day,--or by the flare of a
+brand from my fire if it were night--unveil and show them!
+This--that makes the Turk spit, and the German show his teeth in a
+grin, and the Englishman say, 'Poor devil!' or 'Poor thing!'--and all
+three hurry away from the sight. My one-eyed, crumpled face, that
+save thyself, O John my cousin! and one other!--is the best friend I
+own. What, dost thou hold back at the threshold until thy hostess
+bids thee enter?" For as the great stone rolls groaning into the
+opposite groove, leaving a narrow irregularly-shaped entrance, John
+has turned towards her, reaching up a long mahogany-coloured arm and
+huge hand to help her: "Verily then, in the name of Him Who sent
+thee, be thou welcome under this roof!"
+
+So the two, so strangely met, so far apart and yet so nearly
+related--pass into Ummshni's strange, desolate home--out of the early
+morning sunshine, for it is barely seven o'clock. Three milch-goats
+with their kids troop after, their little split hoofs making a soft
+pattering; and at a sign from his cousin, John Hazel closes the
+entrance with the stone....
+
+It is not dark within the tomb, nor is there any closeness in the
+atmosphere. This has a pleasant, dry coolness that is soothing, like
+the tempered light. Both the air and the light come through long
+cracks and chinks in the roof of limestone slabs, dressed with the
+hammer in bygone centuries, and intersected by glittering streaks of
+crystalline carbonate; and the sloping sides that, like the roof,
+Nature has thickly clothed with bracken and bramble. The place may
+be about ten feet in height--and owns three rooms or mortuary
+chambers--in whose sides are shelves, hollowed in the limestone
+rock--to receive the embalmed and swaddled bodies--of which (if any
+have ever rested there), the passing ages have left no trace.... The
+third chamber is some thirty feet in length and reaches under the
+ruins of The Little Church. Here, within a hearth of mud and stones,
+a wood fire smoulders; its smoke escaping unnoticed through a hole in
+the roof above it into the nave of the ruined building overhead, that
+is thickly mantled with tamarisk, and choked with cactus,
+prickly-pear, and the spina-Christi thorn. Various cooking-pots and
+vessels hang from pegs driven into chinks in the walls of limestone.
+Here are a stool or so, and a small folding-table. Here, too, a
+native bed--brought up here piece by piece--stands on one side, with
+some coarse woollen coverings folded on it. Some clean, but ragged
+draperies of blue cotton-print, and veils of coarse towelling such as
+Ummshni wears,--hang on a cord stretched from wall to wall, with a
+thick overgarment for use in winter, an Arab _abâyi_ of woven camel's
+hair.
+
+And that is all. No anchorite could own less than little Ummshni,
+but the poor soul makes John welcome with what she has.
+
+She makes him lie down on the _anghareb_--folds the camel's hair
+mantle into a pillow for his head--milks the goats, and brings him a
+bowl of the thick, frothing-white, pleasant beverage. He empties it
+and says, setting down the bowl:
+
+"Thanks, O my hostess! May milk never be wanting in thy house! ..."
+
+"May God bestow upon thee long life and prosperity!" returns the
+thin, shadowy voice, in the set terms of the response to the formal
+expression of gratitude: "You have honoured me! ..."
+
+"By your life, O lady! I have honoured myself! ..."
+
+"By your eyes, O my guest! I am the distinguished one!" She laughs
+her queer little dry laugh, and says, kneeling by the hearth, and
+rousing the embers into a glow by puffs of breath from between her
+veils, and bits of dry fuel discreetly thrust into the reddest
+places: "Yet why should thou and I talk as Mohammedans? Are we not
+Jews?"
+
+"Well, I dunno! ..."
+
+"Thou dost not know? Not even that this is New Moon? Wouldst thou
+not be in Shool this morning, if 'twere possible?"
+
+"Well, I can't say for sure. That is, about myself. Of course, I'm
+certain about you and your mother! ..."
+
+"Ah'h!" She winces as at a sudden knife-thrust and sinks back on her
+heels, trembling visibly. "The beloved one--is--is alive?"
+
+"Alive and well, that is--as well as she can be! ... You didn't
+know?" John asks in surprise.
+
+"How should I know within a year? ... News filters in but very
+rarely." She masters herself, rises to her knees, and goes on
+coaxing the fire, but the reddening embers hiss as her tears keep
+dropping on them from underneath her veils. "And it is best she
+should believe that--that I am--that I died when Jacob! ... O, my
+cousin, have pity! ... Let us speak of her no more! ..."
+
+"All right. Count on me! ..."
+
+He watches as the little flitting shape glides about the dusky
+chamber, and in and out of the narrow door,--bringing to feed the
+fire,--more dry fuel, of which she has a heap in the outer chamber,
+that serves as a store-room. From whence, presently conjuring ripe
+figs and olives; fresh eggs, green coffee-beans, salt and rough
+sugar, and a little stone mortar and pestle; some flaps of unbaked
+native bread and a wooden dish of goat's-milk butter, she boils the
+eggs; roasts and pounds the coffee; bakes the bread upon a metal cone
+placed amongst the embers; and assembling the constituents of a
+decent meal--including a jug of fragrant coffee, and another of
+boiling goat's milk, upon a little battered metal tray--sets it upon
+the little table at his side, and brings him a bowl of water, a bit
+of soap and a coarse, clean cloth.
+
+"Washing and--benediction, Cousin John."
+
+He washes and mumbles something, reddening under his head-cloth.
+
+"Now eat and drink, mingling the coffee with milk in the good French
+fashion." She gives a small sigh. "Would I had better to offer
+thee! But than this there is nothing else."
+
+"The tucker's A-1. But you--"
+
+"Trouble not for me. I am a Syrian woman.... I eat my food after
+the man has fed...."
+
+Intuitively perceiving that she shelters behind this excuse her
+sensitive horror of her own disfiguring mutilation, John protests no
+further, but applies himself to the eggs, coffee, bread and butter
+and fresh fruit, with hearty good will.
+
+When he is satisfied she clears away; pours boiling water into a big
+earthen bowl; fetches lint, bandaging and arnica from a burial-shelf
+where she seems to have some store of things like these, and tying
+back her long sleeves in true Fellaha style, by knotting the ends and
+slipping them over her head, addresses herself to the fomenting and
+bandaging of the sprained ankle, saying:
+
+"If thou hast tobacco with thee, smoke, O my Cousin John!"
+
+And so he brings out a packet of maize-leaf paper, and a bag of good
+Arabian tobacco, stowed away with divers other requisites upon his
+large person, and rolls himself a thick cigarette. She gives him a
+light with a flaming stick from the fire, as he is feeling for his
+matches; and at his:
+
+"Thank you, little Esther!"
+
+--bends her poor face low over the damaged ankle, to hide the tears
+that will break forth anew. For thus did old Eli Hazaël speak to his
+daughter's child, and this deep voice is very like his: and the
+familiar words re-open deep, unhealed scars in her wounded and
+suffering heart. Thus there is deep silence in the tomb, broken only
+by their breathing; by the flitting sound of Esther's movements
+within the cool, dusky place--and by the soft munching of the three
+goats and their kids in the outermost chamber--where a heap of grass
+and herbage has been heaped to meet their needs. Indeed, this
+newly-found friend who has come into the desolate creature's life, as
+though dropped from the skies--which in fact he has been!--is so
+silent that Ummshni looks up in wonderment. John is smoking his
+strong Arab cigarette with deep, regular inhalations of enjoyment,
+and staring at a piece of ancient sculpture that catches the
+sunshine--still that of early morning, that falls through an aperture
+overhead more strongly as the Day-Lord climbs higher in the eastern
+sky. It is the bust of a man, nearly life-sized; carved in the
+shallowest relief, and bearing remains of colouring; surrounded by a
+half-circle of reddish rays, from which, possibly, the gold has
+centuries ago faded. His head is noble, haggard and mild--the long
+tresses of waving, reddish-yellow hair mingle with the beard, which
+is slightly pointed--the splendid forehead is deeply scored with
+lines, there are premature markings of care about the eyes. These
+are blue, and austere under dark, widely arching eyebrows, though the
+stern lips smile sorrowfully. Under this ray-crowned
+half-length--which is bounded by a line of blackish colour--is
+roughly chiselled the Sacred Monogram. Below the letters of the Holy
+Name is the date of the Year 400 of the Christian Era. As the
+lengthening ray reaches this, the soft voice asks from between
+Esther's veiling draperies:
+
+"At what art thou looking, my Cousin John? ..."
+
+"Just at--that." He points to the stern and gentle Face rather
+awkwardly.
+
+"It is the Messiah of the Christians. Didst thou not know?"
+
+"Well, of course I'm aware of that. Only, as you're a strict Jewess,
+it struck me as somehow curious to see it here."
+
+"It is of great ancientness. It was here when this grey, evil world
+was young and golden-haired, and perhaps even more evil than it is
+now."
+
+"Then it was pretty rotten! But, in fact, I was thinking as I looked
+at that sculpture, that the man who did it must have seen the ah--the
+Original. Though unless he happened to have a dream or a vision, the
+date quite puts the lid on that idea."
+
+"If by chance it should be really like the Founder of Christianity,
+He hath a servant who resembles Him. For--that is the very face of
+the man whom thou and I would deliver! He lies in the hut of the
+Prisoners' Field, with the high fence of barbed-wire about its
+edges--that is beyond the gate of the city, opposite the Mohammedan
+Tombs. And--and," there is a quavering break in the faded voice,
+"since yesterday before the Prayer-Call they have not given him food
+or water--obeying the strict orders of--one whom I dare not name!"
+Quick panting breaths heave the wasted bosom under the old blue
+cotton garment, the little dusky fingers clutch nervously at her
+coarse veil. "All day I waited near the gates--thinking by some
+cunning wile, some secret bribe, such as hath often served before
+now--to win over the Turks on guard to give me entrance. But, though
+they licked their lips at the promise of wine and tobacco, and
+sweetmeats, and love-messages to be carried to the women of the Suk
+and the Bazâr--they did not dare to let me in. O, my cousin, I fear
+for the life of the Master!--I fear! ... And all night I lurked near,
+hiding whenever they changed the guard, in some covert of the Waste
+Places where they throw the city refuse--and jackals and owls and
+pariahs and lepers and malignant spirits dwell. And when the
+day-brow lifted I left one to keep watch--even a poor leper woman who
+is faithful. And I bought meat, and wine, and came back here to boil
+soup and milk for him. For to-night I shall try again," her glance
+goes to the bundle of canes she has leaned up in a corner, "and this
+time, by the help of the Most High!--this time I shall not fail!"
+
+"Look here, aren't you ever afraid?" John asks, in mingled pity and
+admiration.
+
+"Oh, yes, I am always terrified!" Her veils are shaken with her
+trembling and he can hear the chattering of her teeth. "Ever since I
+took upon me this work of helping the miserable and those who suffer,
+I have been frightened, John my cousin,--to the very core of me....
+But I go on! ... There is no choice!" She wrings the little,
+shaking, dusky hands, and now once more quick sobbing shakes her.
+"Were there not things to do--sick folks to serve--dangers to evade
+or face--what were life worth to The Mother of Ugliness? Think, O
+think! ..."
+
+Looking at the little quivering thing crouching down beside the now
+faintly glowing embers, John thinks, and comprehends, though not
+quite all.
+
+"When I recovered sense and partial sight--after the horrors of which
+thou knowest!--it was to find myself in the house of a good, poor Jew
+of Nazareth, whither--may the Holy One reward his charity! he had
+bribed the soldiers to carry me under cover of night. They, who were
+bidden--I being as one dead and covered with blood--to dig a pit and
+cast me in with quicklime--were glad to be saved the trouble at gain
+of certain moneys. Later, by the secret sale to another man,--a
+Hebrew jeweller,--of an emerald necklace I had worn on the day when
+the _sabtiehs_ arrested me--and which I had stitched into my clothing
+in the first hours of captivity--I know not whether it was overlooked
+or whether they did not dare to seize it--because!--" she does not
+finish the sentence--"I repaid the good Jew, though I found it hard
+to thank him. Hard as I find it even now...."
+
+There is such tragedy in the low, whispering voice, such blistering
+truth in its plain, naked utterances, that John Hazel shudders as he
+listens to her....
+
+"For I desired to die, when I did not remember Jacob! When I thought
+of him--what I wanted more than Death was--" A coal-black
+diamond-bright eye, sends a shaft from between the veils straight
+into the man's eyes. "Thou knowest. Three little words will hold it
+all:"
+
+"_Revenge on Hamid...._"
+
+Her veiled head nods at each slowly-uttered word.
+
+"Verily, ay! but I did not want to say it. For that it was possible
+to endure this ordeal of Life. To kill him in some slow, strange,
+unimagined way, I would have given"--she laughs dryly. "What had I
+left to give, my soul being dead in me,--my body the foul thing his
+touch hath left it!--and the face my mother used to kiss, a mask to
+scare babes and men? Then I said,--I will wait and hate! ...
+Patience and hatred may bring me that I crave for. Meanwhile,
+keeping near him--I will succour those whom he hath wronged, feeding
+my hungry hatred with their curses--until the day comes when I shall
+hunger no more! ..."
+
+"And surely the day of reckoning will come. Only be patient a little
+longer!" says the deep, stern voice that Katharine Forbis knows.
+
+"How like thy voice is to our grandfather's. Almost I could believe
+that Eli spoke then! How strange, that he and thou, so greatly
+resembling, should never have met," sighs the woman beside the fire.
+"Of Hebrew hast thou any?"
+
+"None but a word or so."
+
+"Well, well, it matters not! Go on speaking in Arabic, or in the
+English that is thy home-speech--or in French if it pleases
+thee--thou art Hazaël in any tongue."
+
+"It pleases me best to listen to thee. Tell me now, after what
+fashion wouldst thou have thy vengeance? ..." The man's voice sinks
+lower, and his face is very grim.
+
+"My cousin, let us not speak of it!" she entreats in a whisper. He
+sees a wave of trembling pass over the fragile creature, huddled in
+her coarse disguise beside the rude stone hearth.
+
+"Yet when a man bitten by a mad dog, goes to a Pasteur Institute for
+inoculation, he must--if it be possible--take the head of the dog."
+The fierce black eyes are upon her, and their strength seems a
+palpable weight bearing upon her frailness. "Since the beginning of
+this War, surgeons have attained wonderful skill in building up the
+bodies and faces of men, that other men have broken. When thou shalt
+go to the greatest of these, saying: '_Give me back my beauty!_' I
+promise thee, little Esther, thou shalt carry the head of the dog!"
+
+The big teeth gleam in the dark face, and she answers with her
+chuckle, the thin derisive cachinnation that is so far removed from
+mirth:
+
+"And if such a miracle might be wrought, could thy great surgeon's
+scalpel cut from my woman's soul the scars that make it hideous?
+Could he burn from my memory with his electric wire, the things that
+I have borne? Could he set my feet amongst the flowers on the hills
+near Kir Saba, with Jacob's and Reuben's, and Leah's, and little
+Benjamin's--and brim my heart with the happiness that was Life's
+golden wine? Could he give me back my father and our grandfather,
+the good old man who so loved me? How strange it is to remember that
+if I had not vexed my mother--and worn the chain of emeralds that
+were old Eli Hazaël's birthday gift, that day the _zabtiehs_ seized
+me, walking in the olive-groves near my father's house at Haffêd--I
+should have had nothing of value to sell for the wherewithal to live."
+
+"It was Fate! Tell me, my little Esther, how old art thou?"
+
+She laughs in her strange way.
+
+"On that day--the thirtieth of Ab, in the Year of the World
+5674,--the 8th of August, 1914--as thou wouldst write it--I was
+eighteen, my cousin John...."
+
+Sickened to the very core, the man can barely keep back a groan.
+Twenty-one last August, and "beautiful as a rose of Sharon," to quote
+Old Mendel, and aged, withered, warped, body and soul, into the
+Mother of Ugliness. Words escape him, born of a sudden thought:
+
+"Jacob and thy Cousin Eli are dead, like thy father, and our uncles,
+and our grandfather and thy little brother Benjamin. But--but Reuben
+the son of Ephraim lives. Has no one told thee?"
+
+"Verily, I knew it. But"--her head is bowed and the words come faint
+between her veils--"the young girl whom Reuben loved lives no more.
+Even though thy surgeons might work the bodily miracle. Even if the
+herb Forgetfulness sprang from these stones, I would not gather it,
+and lose the memory of certain things that have lightened my labours,
+and sweetened my sufferings in this cruel place. As for my
+vengeance--more than once I have been very near it! Wilt thou
+believe?--I have opened mine hand and let the thing go!" The little
+dusky hand quivers into sight, shuts, opens and vanishes. "So--and
+so--the sharpness of desire for Hamid's blood having abated,
+since--since I came--to the knowledge of him!"
+
+The little hand waves from the covert of her veils towards the
+ray-encircled head, past which the illuminating beam of sunshine has
+travelled. John, seeing this, says with something of astonishment:
+
+"Knowledge of--the Christ? ... And thou a Jewess?"
+
+"I speak of the servant, not of the Master, good Cousin John. For
+that stern, beautiful face is strangely like his whom thou didst come
+here to seek."
+
+"I'll make a note of that. It may be useful." John Hazel's strong
+black eyes glue themselves upon the Face upon the wall, as the Mother
+of Ugliness goes on, whisperingly:
+
+"This I have thought, seeing the life of the Sidi who is His servant.
+Thou art listening? ..."
+
+"Verily, my little Esther. For it is needful for me to hear these
+things concerning the man."
+
+So, with a full heart trembling on her timid lips, sometimes speaking
+in her swift, cultured Arabic, sometimes in her English that is
+tinctured with a Parisian accent--always speaking of the priest as
+the Sidi, or the Master, she tells John all she knows, up to the
+moment of Father Julian's arrest.
+
+"And what happened then?" John asks.
+
+"They took the Master to the--the Bey's room, over the gateway.
+The--the Bey accused him of pricking on the prisoners to rebellion.
+A German officer who was there bore testimony that the Master had so
+acted. He boldly--for he is as a lion, without fear--denied this, in
+the face of his enemies. All this I heard from a Turk, a _posta_ of
+the guard at the Barracks. The man loves a shameless woman of the
+Bazâr--and--and I carry messages between them, no office being too
+low for Ummshni, the Mother of Ugliness. Can dirt defile dirt?"
+
+In her faint voice she asks the bitter question. John says, grinding
+his teeth:
+
+"Damn it, Esther, drop that! I can't bear it!"
+
+"Swear not, my Cousin John, but hear. _He_--" John knows she is
+speaking of Hamid--"He says to the Master: 'You tell me this, that
+and the other thing I do, gives offence to your Christian Messiah. I
+pay no heed, and, He lets me alone, because He has no power to punish
+me. For it is Allah and Allah only who rebukes the evil and rewards
+the virtuous. And to prove this, I shall put you under guard--in the
+barbed-wire enclosure where we kept the British War-prisoner
+officers. There is plenty of room to walk about, and a wooden hut
+where you may sleep. You will have grass, and clean air, but nothing
+to eat or drink--unless you sign this paper that I have here--saying
+that you repent of the slanders you have spoken against me before my
+face. Sign it now in the presence of witnesses, and you will be sent
+down to join the other War Prisoners at Smyrna. Do not sign it--and
+you will be taken to the wired enclosure, and any one found giving
+you food or water, will be beaten to death with _asayisi_. This will
+give your Nazarene Prophet, Whom we Turks and the Kaiser of the
+Alamani and his officers--who are all good Mohammedans--esteem very
+highly!--a chance to prove how great He is, and how He values you--by
+keeping you alive....'"
+
+John licks lips that have suddenly grown dry.
+
+"And what did Father Forbis say to this--not particularly original
+devil?"
+
+"He told Hamid he was an ordinary priest, with no pretence to extra
+sanctity, and that if this was a challenge to the Christ, he as His
+servant refused to take it up...."
+
+"And then?--"
+
+"'Deprived of food,' the _posta_ says the Master said, 'I perish like
+any other miserable mortal. Yet if it were my Maker's Will that I
+should live through such an ordeal--I should live! ...'"
+
+"Some priest that!" John imagines a voice like Katharine's saying 'I
+should live!' and a thrill goes through him. "And Hamid?--"
+
+"Hamid said: '_We will wait and see!_' and all the Germans laughed.
+It is a phrase well known in England? ..."
+
+"And dam' well hated too! But your Father Forbis is a peach....
+Worthy to be his sister's brother...."
+
+"She is so beautiful and noble? ..."
+
+"All that," says loyal John, "and more! ..."
+
+"Ah! I am glad. For I have thought much since I have known the
+Sidi, and learned in watching, somewhat. This amongst other things:
+that to be abject, ill-used, poor and despised, even as a lame
+sparrow in the sight of men--and to go about doing good, with one
+hate in the nest of the heart that chirps for vengeance, that is
+human, human enough! But to be all this, without hate or
+bitterness--to be wronged and pity the wronger!--being sinned
+against, to pardon and love the sinner, this is Divine! ..."
+
+The softly-breathed words fall upon the air like scattered
+rose-petals, diffusing sweetness as they fall.
+
+"If Jesus of Nazareth were not the Son of the Most High, O John, my
+cousin! after no other fashion will He come when He comes. Taking
+nothing from the world but a crust, and a garment to cover Him.
+Seeking the things that are held despicable by men. His Gospel Love,
+Forgiveness, Sacrifice. His only diadem the Shekinah. His path
+beset by thorns-- His triumph Failure.... His end a gibbet! ...
+What other could it have been?" ...
+
+John admits....
+
+"No other. For if there's one thing more prejudicial to a man than
+sheer Disinterestedness--I'm at a loss to name it! The world must
+have a motive--and it likes a mean one best. I don't pretend I've
+ever gone particularly deep into the subject, but I've sometimes
+thought--that if it were possible to see Jesus of Nazareth clearly
+for the Christians--we Jews might find Him to be very much a Jew!"
+
+"Perhaps we shall see Him so, one day! ..."
+
+She rises with noiseless, supple ease, and takes her bundle of sticks
+from the corner.
+
+"Thou art weary. Deny it not, thy jaws ache with yawning, and
+already I have seen thee nod.... Take off thine upper garment and
+head-cloth, for it is warm here. Lie down and sleep, though the bed
+be somewhat short for legs as long as thine. For I have things to
+do--for the Master! '_What things?_' Oh! the man! ever asking
+questions! ... Broth to make, milk to scald, these pipe-stems," she
+shows her bundle of new, clean canes, five feet long, bound by a
+generous length of red India-rubber tubing, "to fit together after a
+plan. The Master shall not die of hunger to-night, the Most High
+being my helper. For I shall be helped!" She nods her small, veiled
+head. "It is borne in upon me, since I have found thee, the Bedawi
+who did not spit when I let him see my face. There is another Arab
+here," she gives her dry little rustling chuckle, "an Emir with his
+following. He did not spit or curse, either, and his grey eyes said,
+'_Poor thing!_'"
+
+"The hell you say! ..." John, who has been horizontal, sits up
+suddenly and blurts out in English. "Forgive me, little Esther, but
+I happen to be on the track of an Arab with grey eyes. Where does
+the bloke hang out?"
+
+"If thou speakest of the Emir Fadl Anga, he who lodges at the Khan
+et-Talab under that title--having with him two Bedu of the Beni Asir,
+and the horses of all three--"
+
+"Good egg!" John sits up on the string bed in his brown camel's hair
+_kumbas_, grinning joyfully, and hugging his knees: "Does one of 'em
+carry a reed-cage chock-full of pigeons, strapped back of his saddle?
+Think!"
+
+"Ay, verily, the Emir Fadl Anga being pigeon-master to one of the
+Princes of Mecca. Or such is the story that is told in the Bazâr."
+There is incredulity in the weary voice. "He hath brought the birds
+as a gift to the German General commanding at Nazareth, for use, so
+they say, in the Intelligence Department there. When the
+pigeon-master Sergeant Major comes from Nazareth, he will take
+them--and leave a cage of birds that have been trained by himself.
+All this I had in the Bazâr.... Where art thou going? ..."
+
+John, lowering his feet to the stone floor, and reaching for his Arab
+head-cloth, very decidedly replies:
+
+"To the Khan et-Talab, to dig out my man. For he's my man, this Fadl
+Anga."
+
+"And how wilt thou get to the Khan, lame as thou art?"
+
+"_I_ dunno!" John gingerly tests his bandaged leg: "You've handed me
+a poser. What's to be done?"
+
+"What wouldst thou do, if it were possible for thee to go? Think now
+and say! ..."
+
+He rests his brawny arms upon his knees, and says, slowly, as the
+fierce light in his black eyes dies out and leaves their surface dim
+and lustreless:
+
+"I'd find out which was Fadl Anga's room--loaf into the courtyard
+among the horses, camels, goats, Arabs and Fellah grooms--squat down
+under his window, and sing--not out loud, but just between my teeth--"
+
+Sagely she nods her little veiled head:
+
+"_Bouche fermée_,--some English song that is a sign agreed upon
+between you. Sing it me now, for I will go, and carry thy disguised
+Englishman the message, while thou remainest here--watching the soup
+that it be not burned or boil over."
+
+For all unnoticed while they talked, she has set a covered earthen
+pot containing water, and some kind of meat that she brought up with
+her, and has chopped fine and mixed with herbs, amongst the glowing
+ashes; and a faint steam, not unsavoury, is already beginning to
+spiral through the hole in the knobbed lid.
+
+"Is it agreed upon? ..."
+
+"I should smile! ..."
+
+She understands the odd utterance as assent and says with a diamond
+sparkle between her veils:
+
+"Now sing me thy song. And give me thy message, but otherwise advise
+me in nothing of how I am to do. For, verily, I am the Mother of
+Cunning as well as the Mother of Ugliness, and have carried the lives
+of many men between these hands of mine!" Laughing softly, she
+stretches them out. "And they are not as big as thy hands, my giant
+Cousin John."
+
+"You blessed little brick!"
+
+He reaches out and captures in his own, one of the little dusky
+hands, gently squeezes it, lets it go, and takes from his neck a
+square of parchment that hangs there, suspended by a slender green
+silk cord. On one side are two interlaced triangles outlined in
+thick black ink. On the other a square containing Arabic letters of
+the Sacred Name--within a double circle in which have been traced and
+thickly inked--the Signs of the Zodiac.
+
+"That's that! ... Makes some Arab amulet, doesn't it? ... I cribbed
+the figures from the title-page of Pittaker's Almanac, and the Name
+off an inscribed tile. Two letters are stitched inside this--I've
+another letter hidden away inside my _tarbûsh_, but that I'll deliver
+myself to Father Forbis. Meanwhile, you're to get this somehow into
+Fadl Anga's hands. If--but mind you not _unless_ he tumbles to the
+first bars of 'Loch Lomond.'"
+
+"Is it 'Loch Lomond'? That was one of the English songs we learnt to
+sing at my Paris boarding-school," says the Mother of Ugliness.
+"Hear now, O my cousin, if I remember it aright? ..."
+
+She has a little faded voice, sweet but thin, and in this she sings
+to him the familiar refrain of the ballad that--hummed by a battered
+private of London Territorials--sitting on a captured bag of Turkish
+Army biscuits after Sheria--conjured up the chintz drawing-room at
+Kerr's Arbour, and Katharine Forbis singing at her piano in the
+twilight--before the stern, absorbed eyes of an Arab who knelt at
+prayer....
+
+So it follows that, having taken a sparing meal of bread and fruit,
+and milk, the amulet containing the letters being hidden upon her
+person, and the song stowed away in her head, Ummshni-Esther sets
+forth, under the blaze of the sun of twelve o'clock midday (going by
+the watch under Ali Zaybuk's sheepskin wristlet, which is set at
+European time). He limps to the entrance of the tomb to let her out,
+and stands watching until the little slender, veiled figure--wrapped
+in the ample outer garment of coarse yellow-white sheeting, worn by
+Syrian women, passes from his sight.
+
+"Good luck to you, you regular little Maccabee!" he mutters. "Now
+all You Big Old Men, butt in and help her! ... It's up to you to help
+her.... For she's thoroughbred to the backbone, if ever a woman
+was...."
+
+
+"_Thud, thud--thud! Thud thud thud--thud! THUD!_"
+
+The guns are still arguing heavily and persistently--in the hills
+west of Jerusalem, and in the vicinity of Hebron.... South, over
+Junction Station, the inflated grey bulks of three observation
+balloons wallow against the cloud-piled horizon, over the huge
+ark-like hangars that kennel them, as the experts in the dangling
+baskets read off, and transmit to their Headquarters by Wireless, the
+silvery flashes of helios from the hills. A Fokker biplane of pusher
+type with a Falk machine-gun mounted in her bows, is trying to drive
+down one of the observers; the rattle of the aviator's weapon
+sounding like the clickett of a typewriter. While a single-seater
+monoplane _Taube_ with a "Roland" bomb-dropping device, is
+endeavouring to deal in a similar manner with the other O.B.'s, and a
+British Anti-Aircraft gun mounted on a motor is spraying vicious
+little shells of H.E. and shrapnel at the Germans, from
+rapidly-changing vantages upon the ground below.
+
+Even as John gets interested in the battle, the Fokker, hit in her
+petrol tank by a projectile, suddenly vomits flame, and drops like a
+singed moth, downwards. The Taube departs in haste for
+Hebron--seeing a half-squadron of D.H.6's coming over from the
+aërodrome near G.H.Q. further down south.... Germany has few eyes in
+the air in these days, and the Turk is well-nigh wingless. But
+difficulties of transport threaten to hold the British up at Nebi
+Samwil; and knowing this, the enemy's resistance stiffens. The sun
+will not sink on Ottoman dominion in Palestine, while the
+Turco-German forces hold the Jerusalem-Shechem road.
+
+There is a glorious view from the summit of the Mount of Cursing,
+silvered with streams on her lower slopes, clothed with her groves of
+olive and almond, fig and apricot, orange and pomegranate, as high as
+there is soil enough to hold their roots. Through a gap in the Hills
+of Galilee, snow-crowned Hermon stands out in splendid relief against
+the deep blue sky. East, across the Jordan, are the Mountains of
+Gilead, Osha's summit conspicuously capped with a streaming panache
+of cirro-stratus; the coastal Plain of Sharon rolls emerald to the
+turquoise lip of the Mediterranean, and the huge bulk of Carmel
+thrusts out into the glittering distance a fortress defying the
+uttermost assaults of Time.
+
+"Some view!" John comments, baldly, in his acquired idiom, narrowing
+his eyes under the hand that shields them from the sun. Yet in his
+heart he is drunken with the beauty--captive forever to the spell of
+this land of Palestine....
+
+"_Thud, thud!_ ... BOOM! ..."
+
+A colossal tree-shaped column of woolly brown vapour rises in the
+west where lies Jaffa. "We" are blowing up Turkish ammunition-dumps
+and provision stores.
+
+"_Rat, tatt, tatt--tatt 't tat!_" go the machine-guns in the hills to
+the south....
+
+"_Thud, hud, thud 'd 'd! ..._"
+
+Great happenings are in the air. Trained as John Hazel is in the
+unimaginative school of London's Stock Exchange and the City, his
+keen Oriental brain is quickened to this consciousness. Time, after
+many ripening centuries, is giving birth to The Event foretold by and
+foreshadowed in prophecies, dreamed of by vision-seers. Can it be
+that after all these centuries of exile, Christianity is to give back
+Palestine to the Jews? ...
+
+The onyx ring attracts the man's black eyes as he brings down the
+hand that shaded them. He tells himself that, after all, he wasn't
+quite such a blooming mug as little Esther thought. He remembers
+binding a cotton rag about the finger that wears the ancient
+heirloom, on the eve of the start from Ismailia. Somehow, the rag
+must have come off, either before, or when, he jumped from the
+aëroplane, at the signal of Essenian.
+
+"The treacherous Egyptian brute! One of these days--" There is a
+promise in the hiatus that bodes ill for Essenian. There is also a
+token, adhering to the ring, that bodes not over-well for John. Only
+a speck of bright green sealing-wax, sticking in a fold of the
+lion-skin of Hercules, that was not there when its wearer left the
+house in the Rue el Farad, to dine with the Pasha at the Aviators'
+Club.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+The Khan of et Talab, or The Fox, is a thoroughly Oriental
+caravanserai; flat-roofed, two-storeyed, and built upon three sides
+of a square courtyard. The ground-floor rooms are deposits for
+travellers' baggage and stores, the windows of the guest-rooms look
+out upon the courtyard, the fourth side of which is a row of stables,
+with small rooms above them for Arab and Fellah camel-drivers and
+horse-keepers, cooks and scullions, and the tag-rag-and-bobtail of
+the Khan.
+
+The rooms occupied by the Emir Fadl Anga, pigeon-master to the nephew
+of the King of the Hedjaz--purveyor of Intelligence to German
+Headquarters at Shechem, and owner of the dapple grey Arab mare, are
+upon the top floor, and possess the exclusive monopoly of the roof.
+Thus the smells which rise from the area of the courtyard and the
+harsh cries of itinerant fruit and sweetmeat sellers, pedlars of
+fish, hawkers of bread and vegetables; with the wrangling of servants
+and horse-boys, camel-drivers and muleteers, washermen and scullions,
+are somewhat tempered before they ascend to the nostrils and ears of
+the Emir.
+
+The room is large, whitewashed and fairly lofty, with a cool tiled
+floor, on which are spread a few mats and Damascus carpets. Some
+stools, a few cushions, a low table; a carved chest with a huge,
+wooden lock, and the inevitable divan, are all its furniture.
+Opening on a broad balcony communicating by a staircase at each end
+with the housetop and the courtyard, the high, wide window is also
+the door.
+
+On the right-hand side of the divan nearest the window, the Emir lies
+outstretched; pillowed on the embroidered saddlebags which contain
+his travelling-gear, and smoking his water-pipe. Its flexible tube
+snakes over the smoker's body, down across the dark red tiling; the
+roseleaves dance in the water that fills the glass vessel, the
+blue-brown incense of the good Persian tobacco spirals up from the
+burnt clay bowl. The carrier-pigeons in their reed cage upon the
+shaded balcony outside coo slumberously. The _argili_ gurgles as is
+its wont--the flies that blacken the remnants of the midday breakfast
+of soup, chicken stewed in rice, pancakes fried in fat and honey,
+melon and figs--maintain a steady, persistent buzzing, and the rapid,
+minute tap-tap-tap of small hard objects hitting the clean starched
+cover of the divan never ceases. For, if the King of the Fleas of
+Palestine reigns--as is reported, at Tiberias--Abu Brârit, the Father
+of Fleas, lives at Shechem.
+
+Of the Emir's companions, a tall, grizzled, elderly Bedawi in a
+purple and black _jelabia_ with an ample white _jerd_ swathed over an
+orange silk _kuffiyeh_, and a short, broad-faced young man,
+dark-skinned as a roasted coffee-berry, with a fine mouthful of
+dazzling white teeth, and flashing black eyes, in a thin _kaftan_ of
+black camel's hair over an under-robe striped red and white, with a
+_kuffiyeh_ of white, bound with a green head-rope--the junior squats
+on his heels beside a little stove of burned clay in which glows
+charcoal, which is placed on the broad balcony outside the
+window-door. On the stove boils a coffee-kettle of _repoussé_ metal,
+whose fragrant vapours mingle with the smells of the Desert, and the
+smoke of the Persian weed. Meanwhile the little porcelain
+coffee-cups in their _repoussé_ metal holders, the coffee-pot, the
+mortar in which the berries have been crushed, the brass pestle
+belonging to it, and a lime-bark box of broken candy-sugar, sit
+naïvely on the floor. That the son of the Shaykh Gôhar, a noted
+leader in the guerilla war between the King of the Hedjaz and the
+Sultan of Turkey, should preside over the coffee-pot, is in strict
+accordance with Bedwân etiquette. For to drink coffee that has been
+prepared by a woman, is a thing derogatory to masculine dignity.
+Hence Namrûd, his striped mantle doffed, squats on his slipperless
+brown heels beside the burning charcoal, and watches the bubbling pot.
+
+
+The coffee boils, the smoke spirals up from the thin, well-cut lips,
+closed on the amber mouthpiece of Fadl Anga's _argili_.
+
+Of what is Fadl Anga thinking, as the roseleaves dance in the bowl?
+Some ancient Arab palace with palm-gardens and apricot-groves
+sheltered from the sandstorms of the Dehna by forests of cedar and
+oak-trees, shielded from the burning winds that blow from the Gulf of
+Aden, by the mountain-ranges of Hadramaut? Of his horses and hawks,
+pigeons and hunting-leopards, or of some slender bride, with
+gazelle-eyes and henna-reddened fingers, and the rounded oval face
+that Eastern Asiatics liken to the full-orbed moon....
+
+Actually, Fadl Anga is watching a man in a shabby grey tweed
+shooting-suit, burying the Service uniform of a British field-officer
+of infantry, in a fox-earth in a wood. A plantation of snowy Scotch
+firs knee-deep in wintry bracken. He has rolled the things in a
+trench-coat, strapped with a sword-belt. Now he savagely jams them
+down, and rises from the burial of Edward Yaill, panting and with a
+streaming face, though the wind has the nip of February.... He rubs
+the dry dust from his hands--crashes to the stile through the frosty
+covert--leaps out on the high-road. And goes his lonely way,
+oblivious that the end of the lanyard attached to the silver whistle
+sticks out among the briars for Meggy Proodfoot's wee laddie to
+pounce on by and by....
+
+
+The flies buzz, the pigeons coo, the roseleaves dance in the
+water-bowl.... Now through the smoke comes the low command in the
+Bedwân dialect of the ancient Semitic language that is even more
+archaic than the Babylonian Semitic of 6000 years ago:
+
+"O Gôhar, Shaykh of the Beni Asir! and thou, Namrûd, son of Gôhar!
+hearken to my word! ..."
+
+"We hear, O Emir! ..."
+
+"Friends, I have taken tracings of the despatch that was in the bag,
+dropped by the airman who came at dawn yesterday, and before sunrise
+I launched near Mount Gerizim, a pigeon carrying one of these for
+British Intelligence Headquarters at Lydd. The wise old blue _dîk_
+with the crumpled foot, who has served us well before, is my
+messenger. Now, here for safety's sake, is a duplicate tracing for
+each of you."
+
+White teeth gleam in Namrûd's brown face as he takes the filmy square
+of tissue paper, touches it to his forehead, and says:
+
+"O Fadl Anga! by thy favour, there is no place like the inner whorl
+of the ear-rim, for hiding a paper rolled up within a lump of
+bees-wax."
+
+"O Fadl Anga!" the Shaykh's mimicry of his junior's self-important
+tone is really creditable, "by thy favour, since the clipping of the
+ears of spies hath not gone out of fashion, I will hide the tracing
+thou hast given me, in a place that is of all the safest, even
+beneath the eyelid of this my left eye."
+
+"I will remember, O Gôhar! Yet a little pride is permitted when a
+young man hath carried out a stroke so cleverly." Namrûd's black
+eyes glow gratitude as the Emir continues: "Yesterday there was
+consternation at the Shechem Headquarters of General von Krafft,
+Chief of the German Secret Intelligence Department on this front,
+when the bag dropped from the aëroplane was opened, and found to hold
+a dummy message. And last night there was a smart young orderly
+Staff Sergeant-Major of the Department--who was exceedingly sorry for
+himself."
+
+"Thou shouldst have seen, O Emir! to taste the jest of it. By Allah!
+'twas like a monkey trying to carry two watermelons in one hand.
+Under the archway of the Street of Mabortha, looking on the Square
+yonder," the dark hand of Namrûd waves towards the rearward wall, "by
+the fifth hour after sunset I fell upon my prey."
+
+"Had I not known, I had been gulled even as the German." The tone of
+the Shaykh is not untinged with fatherly pride. "When the old woman
+passed, and squalled like a peahen at the gleam of the white face
+under the archway--and then took courage because she found it fair!
+..."
+
+"Thou hast the wrong end of the stick, O my father! She dropped in
+the mud a letter she was carrying from her mistress, the wealthy
+young widow of Abu Husain the jeweller, to the handsome soldier of
+Germany, who waited under the arch."
+
+"So, so, that was it! And was there a letter? ..."
+
+"Nay, she could not find it, having trodden it into the mud.
+
+"True, it rained heavily yesterday morning. And what kind of a tale
+didst thou spin to tangle the dupe?"
+
+"But this, that having seen him thrice, close upon the blink of dawn,
+standing at his post under the archway, the jeweller's widow had
+fallen into the very rage of love. '_Her eyes, that were like
+torches, are extinguished with weeping. Verily thou wouldst have
+pity on her, O Sidi! if thou couldst see. Woe's me! this letter!_'
+(Thus I, the go-between,) '_May the mercy of Allah defend me if I
+have lost it! for truly she knew no better, poor demented creature!
+than to wrap up in it a costly ruby ring!_ ..."
+
+"Ha, ha! ... That was well thought of!"
+
+"It made my gull begin to hunt about in good earnest, and, under
+pretence of the ring's having rolled, I lured him farther down the
+street. While with his little electric torch he was groping amid the
+stenches of the gutter, I heard the song of the Bird while yet afar
+off.... But cackling of lust and vanity, and greed, now in one of
+his fat red ears--now in the other, I deafened him,--else at a move,
+my grip had fastened round his throat.... Then the signal pistol
+cracked, and the orange light flared, and he grunted an oath:
+'_Boppis_'--what tongue is '_boppis_'? ..."
+
+Fadl Anga laughs.
+
+"'_Potzblitz_,' it may have been...."
+
+"And, like the pig he is, he charged for the archway, knocking all
+the breath out of the old woman, who had got in his way. And while
+we twain rolled among the garbage on the pavement, I, dealing him
+scratches and cuffs, and squealing,--but not too loud! the second
+cartridge cracked out, and the bag dropped into the Square...."
+
+The Shaykh takes up:
+
+"And I ran out from my lurking-place and changed it for the dummy,
+ere the German floundered, snorting, from under the archway.... He
+will be wiser in future,--if they ever trust him further." Gôhar
+lights another powerful cigarette. "He will lend his ear to no
+sugared tales told by old women--when next he is waiting for
+despatches to drop out of the sky...."
+
+"It may be so. But once a fool, twice a fool. That is my
+experience," says the quiet voice of the Emir. "Now, friends of
+mine, be it understood! Our work here is done, with the capture of
+the despatch, and the proof that Essenian Pasha is a traitor to
+England. To-night we throw the salaam to Shechem, taking with us the
+English priest."
+
+"_Wallah!_--but that is good hearing!" The Shaykh Gôhar nods
+beamingly. "My blood warms to the word of a raid. Look at the boy!"
+
+Namrûd is wreathed in grins as he squats on his heels--clearing the
+boiling coffee with a dash of cold water, splashed in at the critical
+time.
+
+"He is thy very son. Now, tell me once more, O Shaykh Gôhar! what
+the War Prisoner officer told thee yesterday. Secretly, at the
+_Mahatté_ (Station) of Nakr, before the German _Mudîr_ came."
+
+"_Masha'llah_! At thy behest, O Emir! ..."
+
+And the lean-faced Shaykh, sitting on a carpet beside the divan, in
+his purple and black silk _jelabia_ and silver-corded orange
+head-drapery, smoking innumerable cigarettes of strong Arab tobacco,
+re-commences the low-voiced tale:
+
+"Thus, as I made pretence to bargain with him for a silver
+cigarette-roller he had, that I said had caught my fancy, he stoutly
+maintaining that he did not wish to sell--the English officer said to
+me secretly at Nakr: 'The furrow watered with our sweat shall yield
+us no harvest--yet are we not losers but gainers thereby. Since,
+refusing to give our parole to the Turks, they shut us up in the
+barbed-wire enclosure without the eastern gate of Shechem, we have
+taken it by turns to scrape out a tunnel--working in shifts
+throughout the nights, and taking it in turns to keep watch. From
+the wooden hut on the east side of the enclosure to the wire-fence is
+seven paces of a man. Inside the hut we began our tunnel, covering
+the hole with planks nailed together--scattering earth upon these,
+and setting the _anghareb_ over the top, the better to hide the
+place. Two days ago we tunnelled under the wire. Now we are well
+under the road that runs by the Tomb of Yûsuf to the Well of Yakub,
+and so passes into the Shechem-Jerusalem Road. We are three paces
+south from the Turkish sentry-box that is outside the wire there. We
+should have broken through to-night!"
+
+"That would be the night of yesterday," Fadl Anga murmurs, loosening
+his lips from the long amber mouthpiece.
+
+"_Masha'llah_! 'But,' saith the English officer, 'that we heard we
+were going to Aleppo for Exchange. Now, finding thee a friend in
+disguise, we would have thee know of the tunnel, lest haply other
+War-prisoners--British or of the Allies--be put in the Wired Place.
+_Remember, the hole begins under the earth-strewn planks that are
+beneath the _anghareb_ in the wooden hut that used to be the Mess,
+The tunnel passes three paces south of the Turkish sentry-box that
+stands outside the wire. Four paces from the wire, where the
+broken-down Turkish grain-cart stands upon the road_--it hath stood
+there ever since the Taking of Beersheba and no man sets hand to
+it!--under the grain-cart is where we should have broken through.'
+_Wallah_! And they would have thrown the _salaam_ to the Turks and
+departed, but for the news of the Exchange."
+
+"Praise be to God for men of good wit! Did the officer say no more
+to thee?"
+
+"This, O Emir! that they had scratched the story with a nail on the
+inside of a metal bowl and left it lying in the hut for the next
+British prisoner. In the bowl are written the times when the Turks
+go the rounds by day and night; and the hours for relieving-guard,
+and divers other things time served him not to tell."
+
+"But which," interrupts the younger man, proudly, "I, thy son Namrûd
+have since found out...."
+
+"Hence, to thee we owe it that we can make the essay to-night, O
+Namrûd, rightly named 'The Hunter'! Is the coffee ready, thou
+cleverest of spies?"
+
+"O Haji," Namrûd answers, tingling with the praises of his hero, "the
+coffee is ready even now!"
+
+The Emir wears a flowing _kuffiyeh_ of vivid green silk secured by
+the octagonal gold and silver head-rope, over his black felt
+_tarbûsh_, so the title bestowed by the Shaykh's son is no empty
+compliment. The long Arab _jubba_ under his loose, open _jelabia_ is
+of white silk, delicately stitched, the _jelabia_ is of heavy black
+brocaded silk, tagged with gold at the seams, his red Arab slippers
+are gold-embroidered, there are diamonds in the hilt of the curved,
+gold-sheathed dagger his girdle supports. It must pay uncommonly
+well to breed carrier-pigeons for the nephew of the ex-Sherif of
+Mecca, now by the right of descent from the Prophet; by the strength
+of the sword (and the brilliant brains of an Oxford graduate)
+Commander of the Armies of Arabia and of the Hedjaz, King....
+
+Now Fadl Anga lifts his slender, muscular frame, tense and wiry even
+in repose, higher against the saddle-bags and takes from the dark
+hand of Namrûd the little half-filled cup. The young man serves the
+Shaykh, his father; then, but not until formally invited, fills his
+own cup, and they drink ceremonially. Twice the cups are
+replenished; then Fadl Anga says, as Namrûd refills the clay bowl of
+the _argili_ and puts, with his tough-skinned fingers, a bit of
+glowing charcoal on the top:
+
+"Didst thou go to the _mashásheh_ in the Bazâr, as I bade thee, O
+Namrûd?"
+
+"_Wallah_! As thou didst bid me, I went to the _mashásheh_ in the
+Bazâr."
+
+"And didst thou buy the drug--the sweet conserve of hashish? And of
+the tobacco-seller, giving him the discreet wink, the cigarettes that
+are drugged with opium?"
+
+"Verily, O Fadl Anga, these things I got, after the _magúngi_ and the
+tobacco-seller had denied for a long time that they had any.
+And--_Wallah!_--the cost of both was as though I had bought jewels."
+
+"It may well be, O Namrûd, yet I grudge not the money."
+
+The Emir puts by the mouthpiece of his water-pipe, and takes from the
+young Arab chief a stout package of thick, rank-smelling cigarettes,
+with a Turkish label on it, and a little sticky cardboard box of
+square, dull greenish jujubes, saying with the smile that curves his
+finely-cut mouth under the short henna-dyed beard, but never reaches
+his grey eyes:
+
+"For, to a man who would pump a spy, or stupefy a sharp-witted
+jailer, either of these were worth a handful of jewels."
+
+"_Masha'llah!_" grunted the Shaykh, sending out a volume of
+cigarette-smoke. "Have I not proved that true?"
+
+"Many times, O Shaykh Gôhar, and I also. Now, son of my friend and
+ally, go thou to the bath, which as thou hast found out, the Turkish
+_Yuzbashi_ (Captain) who will be in command of the guard at the Wired
+Enclosure to-night, uses to-day,--his duty commencing after the hour
+of sunset,--and challenge him to a bout of wine and tobacco and salt
+stories to-night in his tent. His tent is on the left-hand side of
+the Enclosure and serves by day as his office. He smokes opium, and
+his sergeant, who is his crony, is a drunkard, and they leave the
+_onbashi_ (corporal) to take roll-call and go the rounds, whenever
+the two are minded for a fuddle"--
+
+"All Turks are dogs and sots!" the Shaykh says succinctly. "Thou
+dost not forget the number of the guard at the Enclosure, and the
+places where they are posted, O Emir?"
+
+"They are inscribed in the register wherein I set down such things."
+Smiling, the Emir lightly touches his forehead. "But if thou wilt
+hear--"
+
+"_Masha'llah_! Let it not be said that I doubted thee." The Shaykh
+holds up a lean, protesting hand. "I, who am as a suckling compared
+to thee in wit-craft, and the science of hiving knowledge in the
+brain."
+
+"Yet will I rehearse to thee here in the room, what Namrûd learned,
+and thou didst tell me last night on the housetop. Listen. On guard
+at the Wired Enclosure, all told, thirty-four men. By daylight at
+any hour, eight Turkish _postas_ on sentry."
+
+"By Allah! Plenty to guard one Englishman."
+
+"As follows: One outside the Wired Enclosure at each corner. One in
+the middle of each long side, north and south, and two at the
+entrance.... The guard-tent is opposite that of the Yusbashi....
+Roll-call is in English time, 7.30 a.m. and 8 p.m. The rounds of
+inspection are 9 p.m., 12 midnight, 5 a.m.... Three times between
+sunset and sunrise. The _châwush_ (sergeant) makes them, if he is
+sober. At other times the _onbashi_ (corporal) is left to carry-on.
+The guard is relieved every seventh hour, counting from sunset to
+sunset."
+
+"Good! But there was no need to repeat it all. I am humiliated by
+thy grace and courtesy. Now, boy, thy lesson!"
+
+"Hear then, O my father!"
+
+Smiling, the dark-skinned Namrûd begins:
+
+"There are eight _postas_ continually on guard-duty at the Wired
+Enclosure. One at each corner outside, and one in the middle of each
+long side, where there are sentry-boxes." His dazzling teeth flash,
+and his black eyes twinkle as he adds demurely: "I have not heard the
+Emir tell that! There are two more _postas_ on duty at the entrance.
+Of the eight men all told--who will be on sentry from sunset to
+daybreak--seven smoke tobacco and drink wine, but one does neither.
+He is the priest of his platoon, and a Darweesh of the sect of
+El-Hoseyn, the Prophet's grandson, and neither eats, drinks, chews
+nor smokes, any of the Forbidden Things."
+
+The Shaykh rolls his eyes cynically and spits:
+
+"Wallah! By the life of thy head! A Darweesh and an abstainer! ..."
+
+Fadl Anga asks, narrowing his eyes to a grey, glittering line:
+
+"Thou art sure? ..."
+
+"I have the testimony of the seven who are his comrades. Not all of
+them love him, but notwithstanding, not one can pick a hole in his
+coat."
+
+"It needs a woman's little fingers for work like that!" suggests the
+Shaykh, hopefully. He pitches his last cigarette-stump backwards
+over his shoulder, muttering: "_Dastûr_. By your permission, Ye
+Blessed!" in case of offending some Afrit of the house, and rises
+from his carpet saying: "O Namrûd! it is time for sleep. Leave we
+the Excellent One to rest. Fresh talk will come after. And there
+are yet two hours to pass before thou goest to the bath...."
+
+And so, with formal exchange of courtesies, and high protests against
+the Emir's uprising, the Shaykh Gôhar and his son assume their
+slippers and depart; leaving behind them the perfume of sandal and
+musk and myrrh, mingled with the wild chamomile and wormwood of the
+Desert, and the odour of dressed gazelle-leather. And Edward Yaill
+is free--for an hour--to sleep and dream of Katharine....
+
+It is grilling hot in the upper room of the Khan of the Fox, and the
+mingled stenches of the courtyard intensify as it approaches high
+noon. The fleas hop, the flies buzz over the unremoved _débris_ of
+the midday breakfast.... Sleep still delays, though Yaill has
+trained himself to summon the Healer at will. In his brain the
+memory of a familiar refrain thrums in insistent, maddening
+repetition. He must yield, or sleep will never come. So under his
+breath he hums "Loch Lomond" so softly that the hairs of his
+henna-dyed moustache scarcely flutter to the measure. And then, for
+a few moments, he appears to doze. Until wakening, he stretches out
+a slim sun-browned hand, as one who wistfully beckons, and whispers,
+yielding to the craving of body and soul:
+
+"Katharine, Katharine, where are you hiding? ... All night and all
+day I have felt you near me. Come out and show yourself, my Sweet,
+my Sweet! ..."
+
+But Katharine delays to reveal her bodily presence, though that
+strange haunting sense of her nearness does not abate.
+
+Yielding to the divine spell, Yaill holds out his hand, palm upwards.
+A pause, and he feels the light pressure of fine, smooth fingers.
+Hers! ... He shuts his eyes, and her breath is cool upon the
+quivering eyelids. Now she bends over him, and for one rapturous
+instant, her mouth is upon his. Now the illusion passes, but it
+leaves his heart hungering. He cannot thrust the thought of
+Katharine from him. He abandons the idea of the noonday siesta. He
+will write to his lost love.
+
+And so Fadl Anga, otherwise Edward Yaill--takes from his girdle his
+Arab pen-case, feels in a pocket within his _kaftan_ for a roll of
+coarse yellowish paper, tears off a suitable square, and begins to
+write, using in correct if uncomfortable Oriental fashion the palm of
+his hand for a desk.
+
+
+"DEAREST OF WOMEN,
+
+Here in this Samaritan Khan of The Fox at Shechem, I write to you--my
+two Arabs--Namrûd, the Hunter, and his father the Shaykh Gôhar, of
+the Beni Asir, having gone about their business, and left their
+supposed Chief in the state of '_kef_!' _Kef_ proper, meaning a full
+stomach, a divan, coffee and tobacco--incidentally everything else
+that affords gratification, notably wine--and the Daughters of Eve.
+I have eaten a greasy Syrian midday breakfast, I lie on a divan
+apparently stuffed with radishes, and evidently populous! I smoke
+excellent tobacco, and Namrûd's coffee corresponds in quality, but
+there is no wine, and the One Woman earth carries for me, her lonely
+lover, is some three hundred miles away.
+
+"Beloved, these scrawled lines may never reach you! But there is
+news and I must write.... Yesterday, the War Prisoners in this
+place, with the exception of some few too sick to be moved, have been
+deported _via_ Aleppo to Smyrna, for purposes of Exchange. Your
+brother's name has again been excluded from the list. Hamid Bey
+accuses him--I heard last night--of instigating certain of the
+rank-and-file to mutiny, and the slander is supported by witnesses
+suborned by him.
+
+"Julian has been secretly removed from the Barracks prison, where up
+to the present he has been confined. We could not trace his
+whereabouts at first, but lighting on the fact that 34 Turkish
+rank-and-file were still assiduously guarding a wooden hut at the
+eastern end of the rectangle of wired-in ground outside the east gate
+of the city where War Prisoner officers are no longer--we came to the
+conclusion, now proved correct--that our man would be found there!
+Pressure so monstrous has been brought to bear, to compel him to sign
+a paper, exonerating Hamid Bey from certain charges at the expense of
+his own integrity, that our attempt at rescue will be carried out
+to-night....
+
+"Shall we succeed or fail? What has Fate in store for us? The
+answer to the question lies upon the knees of the gods. You would
+scold me well if you were here, for so Pagan an utterance--"
+
+
+The moving pen is arrested. The keen ears of Fadl Anga have heard
+the soft padding of naked feet upon the balcony. The paper on which
+he writes vanishes, and with magic celerity a half-written Arabic
+poem takes its place upon the palm of the Emir's slender hand. The
+pen moves from right to left, as a shadow falls upon the paper. The
+voice of a Fellah servant breaks in upon the poet's reverie:
+
+"O Saiyid! O Emir, this slave craves permission to remove the
+dishes! Also there is a woman below in the court-yard...."
+
+The flies rise with a roar from the rinds of the melons and the
+greasy remains of the dishes, as the blue-shirted Fellah waiter
+deftly lifts the tray, and poises it upon his head.
+
+"A presumptuous one, who knowing that at this hour thou wouldst be in
+the state of _Kef_, or under the influence of the Healer, yet
+clamours to be brought before the Presence. Wilt thou that I bid her
+begone?"
+
+"A woman, sayest thou? Who is the woman, and what is her business
+with me?"
+
+The question is put with low-voiced indifference, the Emir's
+half-closed eyes surveying the ceiling, now blackened with a moving
+pattern of flies.
+
+"O Emir, it is the Mother of Ugliness! ..."
+
+"'Ummshni,' sayest thou? ... And who is Ummshni? ..."
+
+"O Prince, Ummshni is known to every one. Ummshni is--Ummshni.
+Touching her message, which greatly presuming, she dared to send
+thee--"
+
+"Out with thy message, O father of fools unborn!"
+
+"O Master and lord, the message was this, thy slave kissing the dust
+beneath thy feet for the sender's presumption: '_Tell the Emir Fadl
+Anga that his greatness takes the high-road and my humbleness treads
+the low. But, in the matter of the lost carrier-pigeon of whose
+whereabouts my lord deigned to question Yuhanna Nakli, the Samaritan
+divineress in the Bazâr_--"
+
+"I remember. Bid the messenger of the Samaritan divineress come
+hither!" The long lashes veil the Emir's grey eyes, and as he speaks
+with languid pauses between the words, he hears the measure of that
+well-known refrain in the throbbing of his arteries and the beating
+of his heart: "Take away the dishes and send her up here. Or--"
+There is a whiff of myrrh and sandal as the tall slight figure in,
+its rustling silken garments rises from the divan: "Here, from the
+window, point her out to me!"
+
+"O Prince, behold the daughter of Sheitan! dancing and singing to the
+camel-men and horse-boys in the _haush_ below."
+
+The tall figure of the Emir steps out on the balcony as a guffaw of
+coarse merriment comes up from the courtyard borne on a stronger wave
+of stinks.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+A circle of Fellah grooms and Arab camel-men, coarse-mouthed,
+evil-eyed, old in the ways of vice--are gathered about a little
+creature in the dingy blue print robe, yellow-white outer-robe of
+sheeting and coarse double veil of the Fellaha. To the majority of
+these Ummshni is known, not so to the others; who crowd round, eager
+to taste the joy of baiting the veiled woman who has ventured alone
+into the crowded court of the Khan.
+
+"Hail, O Beauty, in search of a lover!" jests a squint-eyed Arab.
+"Couldst thou not pay an old woman to tout for thy customers? Has
+business been so bad that thou art driven forth under the eye of
+daylight? Nay then, show thy face for a foretaste of pleasure.
+_Insh'allah!_--unless thou art ugly as a daughter of the Jinniyeh,
+here is Abu Mulâd the Tuareg camel-man, ready and willing to take
+thee on!"
+
+"The Daughters of the Jinniyeh have legs shaggy with hair, and not
+seldom one eye in the middle of the forehead," squeals a scullion, as
+Abu Mulâd, a huge and hideous Tuareg from Central Sahara, whose face,
+arms and legs are dyed with indigo, whose back hair is plaited in
+tails with straw, and whose top locks are hogged like a cob's mane
+under the black tribal head-cloth, is thrust into the forefront of
+the circle by a dozen officious hands. "While this moon's husband
+fell down dead for sheer joy when his bride was first unveiled to
+him. Is it not the sheer truth, O Bestower of Delights?"
+
+"Verily thou dost not lie, for once, O Kasib the scullion!" says a
+thin but audible voice from behind the close-drawn veil. "Wilt thou
+risk the same fate, O Abu Mulâd the Tuareg? Then--then put forth
+thine hand! ... Or--shall I save thee the trouble? See then the face
+that killed a man upon his wedding-night!"
+
+With a thin, shrill cackle of derisive laughter, she draws the screen
+of coarse towelling. Abu Mulâd stares, grimaces behind the strip of
+black cloth covering his mouth, curses and spits copiously.... While
+the little active figure, galvanised into sudden activity, revolves
+before him in an impish dance, chanting to a weird, unholy tune,
+words in a strange, unknown tongue:--
+
+ "_O, you rode the Desert and he flew the Air!--
+ And now he has sent me to find you;
+ A message from him, and a letter I bear--
+ From the bonny bonny Maid of Kerr's Arbour!_"
+
+
+There is something so gnome-like about the little capering figure,
+revolving lightly as a withered leaf, or an eddy of Desert sand, upon
+the unclean litter of the courtyard of the Khan, that--and there is
+not one man of all the throng who does not believe in
+witchcraft--even those who know Ummshni best, quail at the
+possibility of falling under some evil spell, blasting in its effect
+upon the body as upon the soul.
+
+Kasib the scullion claps his hand before his mouth, as do a dozen
+others, invoking the Protection. But Abu Mulâd is of the type of man
+that, ordinarily slow, dilatory and lumpish as a buffalo, is rendered
+tigerish by fear. He shakes in his hide sandals and bleaches under
+his indigo mask as he splutters through the V-shaped gap between his
+filed front teeth:
+
+"Be thou accursed, thou one-eyed sorceress! abominable ghoul,
+conceiver by the seed of devils! _Insha'llah!_ this good blade of
+mine shall purge thee of thine evil blood!"
+
+Not a man puts out his hand to save the woman, as the Tuareg leaps
+upon her, grasps her frail shoulder, and the curved iron knife
+flashes out, when a sharp clear voice, with the unmistakable ring of
+authority in it, arrests the lifted hand.
+
+"_Shwai!_"
+
+The whites of eager eyes roll, as the dark, excited faces are lifted
+to the balcony where stands the Emir Fadl Anga. Now his sharp,
+authoritative voice rings out again:
+
+"Release the woman and bid her come up hither. Who shows her
+violence will reckon with me!"
+
+The Tuareg's heavy blue fingers fall from the slender, bruised
+shoulder. Ummshni mutely salaams to the imperious Presence above,
+and moves with her customary, artificial limp to the outer staircase
+leading to the balcony, as the crowd of idlers, frustrated of the
+pleasant thrill that is born of the sight of bloodshed, disperse to
+their various quarters.
+
+Imperiously beckoning the woman to make haste, the Emir moves back
+into the room, and presently the shadow of the little feminine figure
+is cast across the balcony and the three-inch high window-sill, that
+is grooved to receive the heavy shutter that closes the room at
+night....
+
+With a strange premonitory thrill, Yaill speaks to the little
+creature:
+
+"Enter without fear, O Mother of Ugliness!" He goes on as her
+fragile, dusky arms curve out, the hands touch the veiled brow in the
+Eastern salutation from an inferior, and noiselessly as a moth she
+flits into the room: "And without fear--for here we are in
+privacy--tell me who taught thee that song?"
+
+"O Saiyid!" How faint and whispering a voice is hers.... "I learned
+the song from a big man---a soldier of the Army of Ingiltarra--who
+sat on a sack of biscuits after Sheria, and hummed while the Sons of
+the Desert made the Prayer of Afternoon."
+
+"Where is the man to be found?"
+
+"Saiyid, he lies in hiding in a tomb upon Mount Ebal, having been
+lamed in leaping from a landing aëroplane. His liver is charred with
+anger at so untoward an accident. Strong is his brain to help thee
+plan, and strong as iron are his hands--that could choke the life out
+of an enemy's throat--even as a child twists a rotten cucumber. But
+he is lame!" Yaill marks the falling note of anguished pity in the
+voice. "He can but limp upon a stick, he cannot leap or run...."
+
+"Tell him from me.... Stay! ... Tell me first how thou didst
+encounter him?"
+
+"Sir," Ah, the woman knows too much, she is actually speaking
+English, "Sir, to me, a woman of many sorrows, secretly dwelling in
+that desolate place of which I speak, he came as a stranger seeking
+succour. Then, by the Will of the Most High, was discovered between
+us kinship: the bond of religion, the call of race, and the
+unbreakable tie of blood."
+
+"Madam--"
+
+"Give me not that title. I am no man's wife!"
+
+"Then, Miss Hazel--"
+
+"_Chut_! Call me only Ummshni." A black eye sparkles at Yaill from
+between her veils and a little finger, slender and supple as a
+lizard's tail, signs to him to beware. "I heard a footstep overhead,
+but now!" the thin voice whispers, reverting to Arabic, "And it did
+not pass on, and see there--that hole!"
+
+With an upward gesture of her supple hand she barely indicates the
+whitewashed ceiling, in which there is certainly a hole, rat-gnawed,
+or made by human hands for spying purposes--and reaching to the
+surface of the flat mud roof above.
+
+"O Ummshni, there is a hole indeed, cleverly made for eavesdropping,
+but the man who keeps guard above it is a follower of mine.
+Stay--thou shalt prove it so!" Fadl Anga whistles, shrill and sharp,
+the call of the pigeon-master; and there is a rap on the roof above,
+and an answering, echoing call. "Now take a message for thy man.
+Tell him from me, that since by Fate he is doomed to be out of the
+adventure--"
+
+
+"Give me a message worded in some other way. I will not wound him
+so!" There is sensitive pride in the thin, whispering voice. "And
+first let me discharge mine errand. Here are the letters I spoke of
+in the song."
+
+"Give, then," says the Emir briefly....
+
+She draws from beneath her coarse white outer robe John's square of
+sewn parchment-paper, inked with the signs of the Zodiac, touches
+with it her veiled forehead, and offers it in both her outstretched
+palms.
+
+"The letters are stitched within, I was to tell thee. And that one
+of them comes from the hand of her--who is dearest to thee of all!"
+
+A great wave of emotion goes through Yaill, as he takes the inky
+double square of soiled parchment-paper. His hand trembles for a
+moment, and there is a dimness before his eyes.
+
+"Thank--"
+
+"Do not thank me, sir," the little creature quietly says in her
+Paris-learned English, "I acted in obedience. Shall I not carry out
+the orders of him who is Head of my House? Now give me the message
+to carry to John Hazaël in the Mountain, for at dark I have business
+that brings me back to this town."
+
+"Shall I write, Miss Hazel, or shall you remember?"
+
+"It will be safest not to write, and I shall not forget. Tell me in
+English, time and all.... It will be clearer for John Hazaël, I
+being commanded to repeat your very words."
+
+"Then tell John Hazel from Edward Yaill that I have received the
+packet, and that as earnestly as ever man thanked man, I thank him
+for what he has done! To-night, between twelve-thirty and two
+o'clock--European time--we break into the Wired Enclosure. We have
+learned of an easy way to get in; and except for one man, who cannot
+be dealt with, I think we can dispose of the guards."
+
+"To-night between half-past twelve--no! ... Twelve-thirty and two
+o'clock you break into the Wired Enclosure, having learned of an easy
+way to get in...." The tone is studiously calm, but the throbbing of
+her heart shakes her. "Is that all, or is there more to tell? ..."
+
+"There is a tunnel running from the wooden hut that was used as a
+mess-room by the English officers. Do you follow? It begins under
+the bed that is in the hut, and running eastward, passes under the
+broken cart that stands near the side of the road. Five paces from
+the sentry-box of the man we cannot deal with--the Darweesh who
+neither drinks wine nor smokes."
+
+"Nay. But it may be--" The talk has swung back to Arabic, and the
+voice that is thin and soft as a trickling rivulet of hill-water,
+sounds as though Ummshni's hidden mouth were smiling behind her veil.
+"It may be that Ishak Baba the Darweesh, who drinks no wine nor
+tobacco, and cannot be drugged into blindness--hath no strength to
+refrain his lips from the offered goblet of love?"
+
+"Ah! So there is a weak place in his priestly garment, that," Yaill
+remembers something the Shaykh Gôhar has said, "that the little
+fingers of a woman might widen to a hole?"
+
+"Verily, O Emir! To-night when the Dark comes, Ishak Baba going on
+guard at sunset--it is a pact twixt him and me, that I, Ummshni, may
+feed the--the English prisoner, if--if a shameless woman of the
+Bazâr, a gipsy whom Ishak Baba loves--visits the Baba in his
+sentry-box. I, Ummshni, keeping watch the while."
+
+"_Isht_! (Bravo!) O woman of a thousand! Hast thou carried the
+assignation to the gipsy courtesan?"
+
+"Nay, not yet."
+
+"Then, do not carry it!" The Emir's grey eyes gleam, under the green
+silk _kuffiyeh_ that drapes his _tarbûsh_, and the thin lips under
+the henna-dyed beard curve into a smile that shows his white, rather
+irregular teeth. "One of my men will keep the love-tryst, walking
+with a mincing, womanly carriage--and swathed in the white _izar_.
+Was the gipsy not to pass the Baba on his beat, dropping an almond or
+a flower, and before he wheeled about, slip into the sentry-box?
+Dost thou nod? Ay, I well thought thou didst, it is an ancient game!"
+
+The Emir's white teeth gleam in his red-dyed beard, and Ummshni gives
+her little mirthless titter.
+
+"As my lord says, the game is old, but while Earth spins between the
+Poles it will not lack for players. One thing there is to ask...."
+The voice falters and the little figure trembles. "Thy man ... He
+will not kill the _posta_?"
+
+"Nay. Do not tremble. He will only gag him well, and bind."
+
+She gives a small sigh of relief.
+
+"There will be the green rods for him, the luckless one! when the
+prisoner's escape is discovered."
+
+The Emir's thin eyebrows mount in his bronzed forehead. He says in
+his languid, high-bred tones:
+
+"So there be an escape to find out, I am even content that he should
+taste the _asayisi_. I do not love Turks."
+
+"Nor I, Saiyid! But--" and another wave of shuddering goes over the
+little shrouded figure: "since the ninefold curse of War fell upon
+this my unhappy country, I have seen such rivers of blood flow--"
+
+"O lady, the whole world bleeds; nor shall its wounds know stanching
+until the enemies of Peace are brought low. They are the Turk and
+the German, and yet another who wears the skin of many races, and
+plots evil in many tongues. He works underground, and flies by
+night, and does not show his face in sunshine; but when his hour
+comes, he will be revealed! Russia has the disease of him--and
+Ireland is rotten with him!--and in India and the Far East the papers
+that bear his teachings are cast abroad, and carried on the winds,
+and shower down like the falling leaves."
+
+"And here. Even in this town--"
+
+The black eye sparkles between the folds of coarse towelling, and the
+grey eyes lighten in an answering look.
+
+"So! ... Thou couldst tell a tale--"
+
+"Saiyid." The eye-gleam is hidden in the folds, the tone is humbly
+deprecating. "I am only Ummshni. Who looks over his shoulder when a
+thing so despicable limps by with her basket or _sharbi_?"
+
+"I understand. Now, attend. Tell your John Hazel that we four
+men--I with my two Bedwân and Father Forbis, ride out of Shechem
+before dawn, having the password and making the pretext, that a
+carrier-pigeon being to fly for Mecca at daybreak, we mean to launch
+her from the Mount. There is a good chance that--Shechem being full
+of strangers--the fourth mounted man of us shall pass unobserved.
+But, in any event, for us there is no turning. Dost thou understand?"
+
+The lean sunburned hand touches the butt of one of the Emir's silver
+and ivory-mounted revolvers.
+
+"O Saiyid, I understand!"
+
+"Good. Tell John Hazel to wait for us a mile west of Shechem, where
+the Road of the Wady Azzun--going to Jaffa, turns southward through a
+deep defile among the hills. Is that clearly understood, or shall I
+repeat it?"
+
+"It is understood, and John Hazaël will meet thee, where the road of
+the Wady Azzun, going to Jaffa, turns southward through the defile
+among the hills."
+
+"Can he, being so lame? ..."
+
+"He can if _I_ say he can. I will see to it!"
+
+"Then we will leave it so. Near the mouth of the defile, is a
+Turkish Army Service motor-lorry. It broke down there yesterday and
+it is there to-day. Let Hazel wait in the shadow of it, for the
+sound of our horses. If we can get a spare horse we will bring it.
+If not, one of those we ride will have to carry two men. For Hazel
+is our partner in the adventure. We are not going to leave him in a
+hole!"
+
+"I hear, O Saiyid! and I shall not forget. By the broken Turkish
+lorry where the road turns south, running between the walls of the
+defile.... It is for Jaffa that you ride?"
+
+"For Jaffa, where the British are.... Naturally."
+
+Nationality unconsciously asserts itself in the tone. She answers in
+her whispering accents.
+
+"There are British, five miles nearer here than Jaffa, striking north
+from the Cross-Roads of Gilgal--over the levels, and again west at
+Nebi Karen.... For there is the Tower of Kir Saba, and Kir Saba is
+the Headquarters of--what you call--a Mounted Brigade.... Not of
+soldiers from England--but British of the Dominions--and yet not
+Australians, though looking like them.... Dark, stern-faced men with
+crimson bands and little green tufts on their soft brown hats--riding
+little, thick-necked, active horses, sitting not loosely as does the
+Arab, but close, as though horse and rider were one."
+
+"They are New Zealand Mounted Rifles. You have certainly a gift for
+detail, Miss Hazel."
+
+The grey eyes of the Emir lighten appreciatively under the Hajj's
+green turban. The little veiled creature, as unmoved by his praise
+as she was by the Tuareg's insult, goes on with what she has to say:
+
+"'Anzacs,' that is their name. And since yesterday their
+Headquarters is Kir Saba, whose Tower stands north from the
+Cross-Roads two miles upon the slope of the hills. The Turks and
+Germans drove their trenches through the vineyards and gardens, but,
+though they emptied the vaults, and wine-cellars, and broke the
+refrigerating plant, they did not cut down the orchards and
+olive-groves that stretch for miles over the Hills. They were
+wire-fenced and gated in the time of Eli Hazaël. Lest the wire
+should not have been cut, or the locks of the gates broken,--I will
+place in thy charge this key that I have here."
+
+She is holding out to Yaill a clumsy metal spatula, evidently the
+work of an Eastern hand.
+
+"There are other keys upon the ring," she shows the slip-ring of
+copper wire on which some smaller metal spatulas are strung. "They
+are the keys of the habitable rooms that are on the Tower
+ground-floor. We lived there part of every year, during the Spring
+and vintage. Turks having been there--" the slight inflection given
+to the word conveys a contempt that is boundless; "the rooms may
+contain nothing that is fit for usage; yet were it otherwise, all is
+at the service of my lord."
+
+"You are very kind!" Yaill says, more than a little awkwardly, for
+one to whom the sonorous speech and stately bearing of the Bedwân are
+second nature by now.
+
+"By the Saiyid's leave," again Yaill has the impression that the
+hidden mouth smiles coldly, "I speak of another--to whom the Tower
+belongs."
+
+"Ah, yes, of course."
+
+Yaill is suddenly switched on to a fact he has forgotten:
+
+"Of course, the Tower of Kir Saba and the land about it, have been
+for many generations the property of the Forbis family. And Father
+Julian is the only living male heir. But how do you know?"
+
+There is pride in the low voice that answers:
+
+"Saiyid, though but a woman, I am of the race of Hazaël. For sixteen
+hundred years and more our men have been Keepers of the Tower and
+Guardians of the Shrine. Thou wilt deliver the keys to my lord? It
+is a promise?"
+
+"It is a sacred promise. Pardon that I forgot!"
+
+"Now I go back to carry thy words to John Hazaël on Mount Ebal. Then
+I return to Shechem. At sunset Abu Ishak goes on guard, at the end
+of the Wired Enclosure where the wooden hut is, and when it is dark,
+I feed the prisoner."
+
+"Is it wise to risk so much for that?"
+
+"Being a man," the little voice is very cold, "the Saiyid speaks
+man-fashion. Being a woman, descended from Her who is the Mother of
+all men save Adam, I speak after the manner of my sex. How shall the
+lord of Kir Saba ride for life--and over the hill-roads--if he be
+fainting? Will he not sit the saddle better if he be strengthened
+with broth and wine?"
+
+"O daughter of our Mother Eve, wise art thou, and full of
+forethought! One thing before we part. What time shall the
+gipsy-woman come to the sentry? It shall be for thee to say!"
+
+She thinks an instant, then says:
+
+"When the _boruzan_ of the guard sounds his bugle, and the lights of
+the camp are darkened, let her come, stepping softly, and pass the
+Darweesh on his beat--dropping a white flower, or a piece of white
+paper--and then slip swiftly as a snake, or a lizard, into the
+sentry-box. When the Baba returns--"
+
+"In the hope of finding waiting--the only one of the Forbidden Things
+he hath not power to forego--he will kiss a gag of oiled camel-hide,
+smooth and tight-fitting and greasy, instead of his gipsy's hot,
+painted mouth. She will come when they sound 'Lights Out' at the
+camp of the Wired Enclosure.... And so, good-bye, Miss Hazel," says
+the Emir Fadl Anga, and his sorrowful grey eyes are kindly as they
+rest on the little shape. "Forgive me for asking the question, but
+under the circumstances--seeing that we clear out of here
+to-night--what is to become of you? ..."
+
+"Of me? ..."
+
+She gives her queer, rustling laugh, and by the sound of it he knows
+himself in the presence of a despair that is greater, because more
+hopeless than his own.
+
+"What becomes of the Dust when the puff of wind hath passed over?
+Does it not settle down again--to be trodden underfoot by men?"
+
+"But," Yaill feels something like awe of her, so small, so desolate,
+so set apart, enfolded in her tragic sorrow, "at least, in case of
+trouble at the gates to-night, you had better let me give you the
+pass."
+
+"I am Ummshni.... I need no pass! ... Again I am like the Dust in
+this--that when men tread me underfoot I am carried on their sandals,
+wherever I would go. Farewell, O Saiyid! May the Most High preserve
+you and your companions--and grant my lord deliverance by your brave
+hands, to-night!"
+
+And she is gone, and Edward Yaill takes a dagger from his girdle, and
+rips open the inky, stitched-up double square of tough parchment note.
+
+Two letters tumble out of it into his eager fingers. One is in the
+familiar, beloved script of Katharine Forbis, the other--the buff
+envelope, blurred with postmarks, patched with stamps and scrawled
+with re-addresses he thrusts carelessly into a pocket within his silk
+_kaftan_.
+
+One shivers, contemplating the loss of that wonderful buff envelope,
+and the consequent slip between the cup and the lip. But Yaill has
+no thought but this! To him, on the eve of the Great Adventure, has
+come a God-speed message from his love....
+
+"My Man of all the Men that walk this world!" she cries to him. "My
+full heart lies between your darling hands to-night. And your dear,
+dear letter--O Edward! I have it close to me. It lies where my own
+love's head rested when we said 'Good-bye.' You remember that sweet,
+sad parting in the chapel at Kerr's Arbour? ... I shall never smell
+violets again, or put on my mother's black lace veil to wear to
+Communion, without going back in memory to that day ..."
+
+It is a long letter, written all over eight pages, and running along
+the edges of the filled sheets. Love and solicitude and anxious
+wistful yearning, overflow into the smallest corners, curling and
+flourishing like tendrils of the vine. It is not a high-browed
+letter, nor even a passionate one, though pure womanly passion throbs
+through it from beginning to end. It is Katharine in her fullest
+expression--and than Katharine, Edward Yaill, her lover,--asks
+nothing better for this world and for the next.
+
+"Dearest," it ends, "John Hazel has promised to get this letter
+through to you, and the other that I have written for Julian,--and
+yet another that was sent to Kerr's Arbour for you. How strange that
+at the parting of our ways, so true a friend should have risen up to
+help us. With you I feel--more strongly than I can say here--that
+this man is linked with my Fate! With 'our' fate, I would once have
+said--but must not now, Edward. Ah, though I do not speak or write
+thus, I always think in the plural, dear! ...
+
+"My own, though you make so little of it, you are in danger. An
+accent misplaced, an unguarded gesture--a twitch of a muscle--might
+bring you Death. If it add to your peril to give you this--John
+Hazel has my authority to destroy it, this letter that I have kissed
+where your dear, dear hands should touch! Julian's Rosary and your
+bit of asphodel I keep where I can feel them, as I go about my
+business of driving cars in Egypt for our Red Cross. Thank God, I
+have lots to do! And I do it, as well as I can, with both of you
+tugging at my heartstrings,--lie down to sleep with a prayer for you
+on my lips--wake in the night, crying for joy, because I have dreamed
+that you are safe, and we are happy as we used to be. And rise to
+another day of anxiety and loneliness....
+
+Oh, well! it can't go on for ever! Even suspense like this must come
+to an end. God keep you both, my Precious Ones! and bring you back
+safely to--
+
+ "Your loving, faithful, anxious,
+ "KATHARINE."
+
+
+Yaill reads the letter three times and kisses it lingeringly. Then
+he puts it carefully away. With certain other documents, maps and
+diagrams of fortified places, tracings on silk tissue-paper, and two
+or three other letters in Sanscrit and Arabic, in a small flat case
+of tough glass, double, and metal-jointed; covered with green
+gazelle-leather, stamped with an Eastern design. The flat paper-case
+closes hermetically; and a twirl of a stop-screw liberates the acid
+contained in a reservoir at the top. Thus, its contents may be
+destroyed,--or rendered completely illegible, at the will of the
+agent who carries the case....
+
+At the last moment Yaill remembers the buff envelope, brings it out,
+turns it over and sniffs at it.... It exhales no cheap and violent
+perfume, displays no gaudy monogram.... The handwriting, large,
+flourishing and square, is quite unknown to him, and yet--as it lies
+under his incurious eyes, the image of his wife, Lucy Yaill--once
+Burtonshaw--is flashed upon his brain.
+
+He will not open the buff envelope just now.... The thing with its
+English superscription, being dangerous to carry, he puts it away
+with the other papers in the glass-lined case, one twirl of whose
+lever-screw can blot out words, penned in the sprawling hand, that
+mean Hope renewed, Happiness restored, Union with the woman so
+faithfully loved, a blessed possibility--granted that Katharine's
+tender prayers for her beloved's protection and safety are heard, and
+answered soon....
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+A huge Arab, mounted on a very little ass, ambling along the stony
+roads while a woman trudges in the dust behind him, is so common a
+spectacle in Palestine as to occasion no remark. Were the positions
+reversed,--did the woman ride the donkey and the man tramp after,
+then by so unprecedented a breach of etiquette, popular comment would
+naturally be provoked.
+
+After the fashion indicated above, Ummshni, conjuring the little
+beast from some source unknown, has conveyed her man to Fadl Anga's
+appointed meeting-place, a mile west of Shechem, where the road of
+the Wady Azzun, switchbacking down to Jaffa--or more properly
+Gilgal--turns southward, running down a steep-sided defile among the
+hills. There, where the broken-down Turkish motor-lorry stands by
+the roadside, she has left him, taking with her a cherished asset he
+has carried hidden about him, in the shape of a pair of insulated
+wire-cutters. Her parting words still sound in his ears:
+
+"Thou art the Head of our House, my cousin. Bless me before I go!
+..."
+
+Now John tingles with a scalding sense of her worth, and his own
+unworthiness, as he remembers how he put his heavy hand on the small
+veiled head, and muttered some incoherent words. Then she turned,
+and went from him so quietly that he has barely realised the risk
+that she is taking. Now that she has gone, it comes sharply home to
+him, and salt stinging moisture gathers under his eyelids, and a lump
+is in his throat.
+
+The little donkey, hobbled by Ummshni before she went, to prevent its
+straying, grazes contentedly by the roadside, where rich green weeds,
+and grass and brake, and clumps of late-flowering asphodel betray the
+presence of moisture in the soil....
+
+The sides of the hill-pass opening here, are chocolate-brown where
+the soil shows bare, as those of any cliff at home in Devon or
+Somerset, and trickling with little streams, thick-fringed with
+maidenhair.... Snapdragons of many hues, cyclamen white, and violet,
+and pink, spring in the crannies of the rocks, with the purple
+amaryllis, and a smell suggesting violets is sweet upon the air.
+
+It is close upon the hour of sunset now. There is a great view here,
+from the top of the stiff up-gradient that climbs up from Shechem to
+plunge in a long series of downward curves, westward towards Jaffa,
+until, Gilgal reached--it turns at an acute southward angle and leaps
+the Cana Road. Nobody comes, though Turkish cavalry patrol the wadys
+at irregular intervals, and there are outposts with machine guns
+among the hills. Save for the thudding of those restless guns
+south-west and east, it would be even sweet and peaceful. For the
+air is divinely spiced with that rare perfume that is so like the
+smell of violets; the orange-winged Syrian blackbird pipes out his
+good-night song; and every thorn, or wild-olive, or mulberry-tree of
+all that mantle the sides of the defile, seems to accommodate its
+pair of bulbuls, warbling and jug-jugging in the very rage of
+ecstasy--sometimes breaking off to mew--after the provoking habit of
+nightingales. And John Hazel lights another strong Arab cigarette,
+swings himself to the driver's seat of the broken-down Turkish
+motor-lorry, and for a brief space, listens and smokes, and thinks....
+
+He recalls the great experiences of War, forgetting War's miseries
+and discomforts. The social joys of the camp-fire, the long,
+confidential talks of the bivouac, the short, hard hand-grip pals
+exchange before going into action; the parting kiss that a soldier
+may set on the lips of a dead or dying friend. Men have seen men's
+souls face to face in the midst of hideous slaughter--in the pauses
+between horrible explosions--and until the heavens are rolled up as a
+scroll, and the sea is dry from shore to shore--and the Earth stops
+spinning between her poles, they will not forget these things....
+Perhaps not even then....
+
+And then John's thought goes back, as it has not done for long, to
+the thriving Firm of Dannahill, Lee-Levyson and Hazel, Insurance
+Brokers, of London City; and Beryl Lee-Levyson, John's former
+love--Muriel, Beryl's sister, and his brother Maurice--now piloting a
+Handley-Page bombing 'plane on the Western Front, Old Mendel, and
+Miss Birdie Bright, pass in imagined rotation over a stage, oddly
+backed by a composite drop, in part representing the Underwriting
+Room at Lloyds, the Office in Cornhill, and John's bedroom at Campden
+Hill....
+
+Dannahill, still haggard from the shock of his grandson's death, (the
+wire had only come from the War Office that September morning) and
+Lee-Levyson and Copples the Senior Clerk, are shaking the Junior
+Partner's hands, as he comes out of his stuffy little office with his
+working coat in a brown paper parcel, containing a lot of odds and
+ends, some pipes, and Beryl's tinted photograph in a flamboyant
+silver frame. John is in a full suit of pink-striped silk pyjamas,
+and there too is Mrs. Hazel, John's mother, handsome in her pale blue
+_crêpe_ dressing-gown, with her still abundant auburn hair in a thick
+plait down her back. To her John hears himself saying in his
+acquired British accent:
+
+"Anyway, if the Pater was a Syrian Jew, your governor was British
+enough, anyway! Symes sounds like a good old English name."
+
+And the answer comes like a douche of cold water on his secret
+hopes--like a crunch on the pill deftly concealed in the middle of a
+spoonful of jelly:
+
+"That was why your grandmother adopted it. After your grandfather's
+death, of course. His name was Simonoff.... A Russian Jew from
+Moscow...."
+
+The chill of the cold water, the bitterness of the pill. How John
+Hazel has shivered at the one and grimaced over the other. Some
+shock! to learn that between the Jew of Palestine and the Jew of
+Greater Russia he has been wrought all Jewish. That not one globule
+of British blood mingles with the strong Semitic tide that gallops
+through his veins....
+
+And now--though his big body sits still and smokes, his spirit is
+abroad to-night on these hills of Samaria. He snuffs the sweet wild
+November breeze with wide, distended nostrils, and shows his big
+white teeth in a silent laugh.
+
+This Hither Asian land of Syria.... How he has despised and
+belittled it--this Garden of Miracles from whose teeming
+soil--burrowed by a nation of cave-dwellers and idol-worshippers, and
+tracked by the footprints of nomadic shepherds--prophets, sages,
+seers, philosophers, poets, musicians, artists, architects--leaped
+into birth at the Divine Bidding, while as yet the world was a jungle
+of ferocious human beasts.... This Palestine, no bigger than the
+County of Middlesex, in Religion, History, Science, Law, hygiene and
+moral teaching--has she not ever led the way and pointed to the
+zenith? What if her star, after long eclipse, should now be in the
+ascendant? Strange, strange, if after all the centuries of war,
+exile and oppression, Christian hands are to give back Palestine to
+the Jews! ...
+
+He hugs himself, muttering:
+
+"A hell of a country to get hold of you, and no mistake about it.
+But she is IT, this little old Palestine! She's got it in her to
+whack the globe--given the men and the money. I'm one of her men....
+I've got some money. And it's going to be spent with lots more to
+set her going again. Golden blood pumped into her veins to set her
+heart beating--and make her buried splendours, her Temple with its
+golden dome, her matchless Holy City--her towns, and gardens, and
+hippodromes and palaces jump out of her yellow soil as quick as
+mustard-and-cress." He chuckles. "I'm a bit potty! ... 'Fey,' a
+Scotchman'd call it.... I feel as if all my Big Old Men--those dead
+old Hazaëls--right away down from the Kings of Damascus who laid
+siege to Ahab, King of Israel, and afterwards joined up with him
+against the Assyrians!--were alive and swarming over these hills of
+Samaria to-night...."
+
+Perhaps the man, in his normal state, is oblivious of the postscript
+he supplied to the story of the inscription on the tablet. He may
+not know the blood of the Hazaëls is tinctured with the Israelite
+blood of Istâr the Princess, daughter of Jezebel of Tyre and Ahab of
+Samaria. Half a mile north of where he sits on the lorry,--parallel
+with the road to Gilgal, runs the great seaward-going road of the
+Wady-es Sha'ir, forking off at Anebta, past the Watch Tower hill of
+Omri, to Carmel and the sea.
+
+From her nest of purple cushions in the high balcony-window of her
+ivory palace at Samaria, Jezebel, Ahab's Queen, daughter of King
+Ethbal of Sidon, looked--when her people's god, red as though dyed
+with the blood of the murdered prophets--was blotted out of sight by
+the rising curve of the earth.... Famine withered the rainless land,
+and beasts and men were perishing, as the Prophet of the Most High
+lay prostrate on the summit of Mount Carmel, pressing his face
+against the sod....
+
+"_And while he turned himself this way and that,_" as a worm might
+writhe in anguish, the little cloud rose out of the sea. And the
+troubler of Israel rose up and sent word to King Ahab:
+
+"_Prepare thy chariot and go down, lest the rain prevent thee!_"
+
+Over this broad Road of the Wady-es Sha'ir, the fleet horses of
+Ahab's jewelled ivory chariot thundered, as "the heavens grew dark
+with clouds and wind, and there fell a great rain." And the King
+raced down to Samaria before the pelting storm, while the lean
+prophet, the swift Hound of God, scoured fleetly on before....
+
+And Elias, being threatened with the vengeance of Jezebel, because he
+had killed the priests of her golden temple of Baal Zebub, fled south
+to Beersheba, and being miraculously fed, journeyed to Horeb, and
+lived in a cave. And after the Vision on the Mountain, returned by
+the Divine Command through the desert to Damascus, and anointed
+Hazaël of Damascus to be King of Syria....
+
+Now John, lineal descendant of the race,--inhales the rank smoke of
+his Arab cigarette, and pursues his train of thought. Sitting on the
+broken-down Turkish motor-lorry, with knees drawn up to his long
+chin, and his long arms hugging them; with his Arab head-cloth pushed
+awry, and prickly burrs tangled in his coarse black hair, that is
+powdered with limestone-dust like his mahogany skin--the huge man
+with the great nose and the fierce black eyes that blaze under their
+bushy, knotted eyebrows, is an awesome spectacle--having much more in
+common with the lean and dusty Prophet than with his own remote
+ancestor the Baal-worshipping King.
+
+He is engaged, as he sits there, in a death-struggle with the
+strongest and most ruthlessly selfish of all human passions. That
+smell of violets brings Katharine back--dwarfing as great artists
+will--every other player on the stage of his mental theatre. He sees
+her on a certain February day, standing in the chintz-hung
+drawing-room looking on the terrace at Kerr's Arbour, with a bunch of
+greenhouse violets in her beloved hand....
+
+"I was going to take him these.... Perhaps you would like to?" she
+had said, giving the violets to John.... Then he followed her up the
+little aisle of the chapel, and stood with her beside the General's
+long coffin, looking down at the grand old face, and the rigid
+clasped hands....
+
+"Father, dear, this is a friend of ours, whom you have wished to see!"
+
+
+Again he hears her, speaking as though the old man were not dead but
+in a quiet slumber. She touched his hand in showing him how to place
+the violets under the rigid fingers, that held a Crucifix and had a
+Rosary threaded between....
+
+On that first day she seemed to John, older, graver, sterner than
+afterwards, when Edward Yaill came upon the scene. He remembers how
+their eyes met, and she kindled into beauty. He recalls his brief,
+stern interview with Yaill, and that parting "Carry on...."
+
+He conjures up the Funeral, and Katharine veiled and draped in
+black--offering him in a silver shell some earth from Palestine to
+sprinkle on the coffin. He recalls her summoning telegram, and the
+finding of the khaki kit of the "Missing British Officer" hidden away
+in the fox-earth in the wood. He glows again with joy as she comes
+to greet him at the Hospital, beautiful, strong and womanly, in her
+uniform of cool white drill. He welcomes her to the cradle-house of
+her Roman race, the House of Philoremus Fabius, on the ancient Street
+of the Four Winds, now lost in the Rue el Farad. Again he waits for
+her outside the Chapel of the Shrine, again they sit on the granite
+seat under the moss-cup oak. And once more he thrills exquisitely at
+the velvet touch of her warm, sweet mouth upon his clumsy hand.
+
+It was a cruel thing to do, but she had no thought of coquetry. He
+knows that the kiss was a belated tribute from a woman of her race,
+to the last male Hazaël but one. That she looked past the recipient
+of the kiss to the huge, swart, bearded ancestor, who first held the
+onyx ring in trust, guarded the Title Deeds, and preserved the house
+at Alexandria--and the Tower of Kir Saba in Palestine, to be handed
+down, a sacred charge--by his children's children, and their
+children, down to the present day.... A tribute of gratitude and
+respect, that kiss, and nothing further. But it was set by a woman's
+mouth upon the hand of a man....
+
+He knows that there is no hope for him, this ungainly worshipper of
+Katharine, even though her lover should never be free to marry
+her--though the tie that binds Yaill to Lucy Burtonshaw should endure
+for both their lives. He, John, has hated Yaill with the virile
+strength of jealousy. He has conquered that baseness in himself....
+He hates the man no more.... He has risked and borne much to carry
+Yaill her letter. He has been even warmed and heartened by his
+enemy's gratitude:
+
+"Tell him that I have received the packet, and that as earnestly as
+man ever thanked man, I thank him for what he has done! ..."
+
+But even with Yaill's message fresh in mind, John is not cured of
+hoping. He hopes--and sets his huge foot upon the neck of his
+hope--while yearning over it as a man may yearn over his first-born.
+For this that has come to him is the knowledge of true Love, and even
+as Jacob in old days wrestled with the Angel,--John Hazel strives
+with his masterful, bright-winged passion--not trying to detain Love,
+but rather to compel Love, by force of thews, to go....
+
+The blood-red sunset glorifies the West, fills the defile from cliff
+to cliff, and now smoulders out in amber and jade-green, peacock blue
+and rose-madder. Grey twilight comes--and the birds are still, as a
+giant owl flies over, and sinks, as a shadow sinks, amongst the
+shadowy trees.... No one draws near. The cavalry patrols of the
+Turk are oddly infrequent on this particular Shechem end of the
+Jaffa-going road....
+
+John gets up and shakes his dreams and hopes and memories from him,
+as a swimmer emerging from a sluggish stream might shake off clinging
+weeds. His hopes are scarcely weeds. Rather are they trails of
+blossoming lotus or water-lily. But lilies or weeds, they hamper.
+And there is work to do.
+
+He stretches himself, shakes his giant frame, pitches away the stump
+of his cigarette--gets down from the driver's seat, climbs into the
+body of the lorry and proceeds to inspect the boxes that form its
+load. They are heavy wooden cases roughly dovetailed together,
+painted a dirty stone-blue and grossly daubed with the Crescent and
+Star in bright vermilion paint. They are branded with the initials
+of the Turkish A.S.C., carry the stamp of the shell-factory at
+Makrikeui, and belong to the 2nd battalion of the 4th Infantry
+Regiment, (Headquarters Salonika) of the IIIrd Ottoman Ordu.
+
+John thinks it would be as well to have a look inside a few of those
+blue boxes, with the assistance of a spanner, and his pocket electric
+torch. He looks about for a spanner and presently finds one in the
+tool-box aft of the driver's seat. It is a large spanner of good
+steel, and--in the hands of John Hazel--makes a most efficient
+substitute for the key of the Turkish lock. The nails draw, the wood
+splinters, the lid is lifted.... The box--instead of being full of
+packets of Mauser cartridges, proves to be packed with metal spheres
+the size of biggish cricket-balls, painted a bilious brown....
+
+"Bombs ..." With a thrill of pleasurable recognition John picks up
+one of the cricket-balls and weighs it in his hand. "Our make too.
+Some find!" he thinks. "Now, where did they get these? ... Snapped
+up a string of mules at the tail of an ammunition-convoy, or found
+'em in some abandoned dump on the Peninsula, when the Expeditionary
+Army evacuated Gallipoli! ... Anyhow they come in handy. Damned
+handy! ... Let's look in another box...."
+
+He breaks open four more, with the assistance of the spanner. Two
+out of the lot hold bombs, British-made, pitched in
+higgledy-piggledy, with the recklessness that may be born of
+Mohammedan fatalism. The others prove to contain paper clips of
+cartridges, marked for use in the 1890 pattern Mauser magazine-rifle
+of 7.56. mm.
+
+Two boxes of British bombs, at this especial juncture, come to John
+Hazel as manna from the skies. If there is a weapon the ex-insurance
+broker of Cornhill prefers before all known devices for killing other
+men--that weapon is the bomb, of the cricket-ball, hand-pitched
+variety, that makes of one long-armed man, the equal of many men
+armed....
+
+At Rondes Poix in the March of 1915, a party of Fenchurch Street
+Fusiliers being hemmed in at an advanced post by the enemy, Private
+Hazel and Private Spurge--a rival star-artist in the line of
+effective bomb-throwing--kept the Hun at bay for eleven hours by
+pitching cricket-ball bombs.
+
+Again, in the April of that year, east of "that mad place called
+Ypres," John, possibly urged to derring-do by the urgent spirit of
+Sergeant Harris, and armed with a bag of bombs of this
+variety--crawled through a hole in the enemy's barbed-wire, and
+single-handed--argued in such wise with the Germans established at a
+certain machine-gun position, that the Fenchurch Streets--charging
+over the front-line parapet at the critical moment, were able to
+clear three hundred yards of the trench in question, and held the
+same triumphantly for the rest of the fighting day. The D.C.M., that
+silver disc bearing his Sovereign's bust, which he calls his "bit of
+tin" and is secretly vain of,--was subsequently bestowed on Private
+Hazel when a patient at the Auxiliary Military War Hospital, of
+Colthill, Middlesex, in recognition of this feat.
+
+"Given they're not duds," he murmurs now, lovingly toying with the
+spring-pin of one of the cricket-balls, "I could hold up a
+half-battalion of Turks with these, until the cows come home! ..."
+
+He looks up to his left and right, roughly estimating the height of
+the defile, the perpendicular walls of which are somewhat lower on
+his left than on his right-hand--and calculates the width of the road
+here at under twenty feet. More like eighteen-and-a-half. Well,
+given that to-night's attempt at the rescue of Father Julian Forbis
+does not prove a washout--here is the wherewithal to keep the road,
+in case of a pursuit....
+
+Twilight creeps on. The crickets chirp, and noiseless as a shadow,
+the great owl slips from the thicket and takes his soundless flight.
+The little owls hunt in the grass for frogs, lizards and beetles, and
+the great bats come out of the crannies in the rocks to gorge
+themselves with fruit.
+
+For a while the guns have ceased to argue, and the night is still and
+breathless; not the clear violet night of Syria, radiant with
+dazzling silver light of moon and starshine, but a moonless night of
+semi-obscurity, and diffuse and formless shadows, with menacing
+rumbles of thunder in the east, where sheet-lightning flickers now
+and then. Venus suspends her sapphire lamp above the hills of Judæa,
+and the Pleiades shine almost directly overhead. Bright-armed Orion
+rises in splendour over the ramparts of blue-black cumuli that brood
+in the east over the Mountains of Gilead. Low down, through a jagged
+cleft in these, twinkles the star Y Crucis, that forms the summit of
+the Southern Cross....
+
+No trot of hoofs on the stony road draws nearer from the eastward; no
+clink of spur on scabbard, or bit against chain-bridle, tells of the
+approach of a cavalry patrol along the Jaffa Road. There are yet
+three hours and more to wait for the sound of hoof-beats coming from
+Shechem, that may signify the escape of the prisoner from the Bey's
+wire cage.
+
+Does all go well? Has Esther Hazaël carried out her stratagem? She
+has shown John how--when the Dark comes down--she will feed the
+prisoner. By a device almost absurd in its direct simplicity--used,
+in this Eastern land, millions of times ere now. Women are cunning
+in such tricks, and full of subtle resources.... Well for men that
+it is so!--especially in time of War....
+
+Ummshni is at her business now. John feels certain. He nods to
+himself, solemnly, and sitting on the lid of one of the broken
+bomb-boxes, folds his great arms, narrows his eyelids and sends his
+Thought ranging abroad in search of her.
+
+Perhaps he sleeps and dreams, sitting there. Who knows whether he
+does or does not. But after some moments of silent concentration, he
+sees his messenger go forth. A tiny thing--human in form, light as a
+puff of thistledown, no bigger than a locust--it leaps down to the
+big Jew's knees, and thence to the bottom of the lorry; drops from it
+into the dust and scours down the road. Swift as the wind, it passes
+over the highway--reaches the west gate of Shechem and slips through
+a crevice in the ponderous iron-studded timbers, lodging between the
+sandalled feet of the Mustahfiz infantry guard.... Now it goes by
+the Khan of the Fox, darts through the square where the archway is
+(under which the Orderly Staff Sergeant Major of the German
+Intelligence Department waited for the dropping of the despatch-bag
+from the Two Faced Nightingale), traverses the town, thronged
+to-night with variously attired strangers of many nations,
+and--lightly as a withered leaf, and inconspicuous as a
+dust-swirl--traverses the main thoroughfare of the ancient town.
+
+Shechem is packed to the walls to-night with the exiles from
+Jerusalem. And in addition to these, with strangers in foreign
+clothing, diverse in type, sinister-faced and stern-eyed, speaking
+unknown languages.... There are many Turkish officers, young and
+old, in uniform and out of it, and German officers of many ranks and
+decorations, accompanied by women, painted and overdressed.
+
+
+So many strange feet, bringing strange dust from strange lands. Yet
+the little thing no bigger than a leaf finds a way between them all.
+Now it spins out at the east gate and rolls down the rutted road
+towards the Wired Enclosure.... Here storm-lamps hang outside the
+guard-tent and on either side of the entrance. The officer's tent is
+lighted within, but unlike the tent of the _postas_, it is furnished
+with a door-flap. From inside comes the sound of laughter, the
+clinking of glasses, and unmistakably, the rattle of shaken dice.
+Near the gate, in conversation with the _bash-châwush_ of the guard,
+stands a tall, thin, elderly Bedawi, known to the reader as the
+Shaykh Gôhar.
+
+"Nay, nay! Do not trouble the _Yuzbashi_." He waves a hand in the
+direction of the tent whence comes the convivial clink. "The affairs
+of the humble must wait upon the leisure of the great ones. Yet if
+thy dignity were not lowered by the mention of a hundred
+piastres--one _lira_ Osmanli--" Gôhar carelessly displays the coin.
+
+"O my friend! O my soul!" hiccups the _bash-châwush_, who at this
+early stage of the evening is only amiably drunk. "I will do thine
+errand with gladness for friendship's sake only!" Having duly
+received and pouched the coin, he adds: "Now tell thy business to me."
+
+"Briefly, it was but to ask thy _Yuzbashi_ to accord me the
+watchword, the Emir Fadl Anga having cause to pass the gates
+to-night. In thine ear, O friend! he hath a pigeon to fly at dawn
+for Mecca, and he is minded to loose the bird from the Mount."
+
+The _bash-châwush_ nods and disappears into the tent, whence, sung in
+a high nasal tenor voice to lute-accompaniment, issue the unblushing
+erotics of an Arab love-song. The Shaykh turns to one of the
+_postas_ lounging near the guard-tent, and smilingly offers him a
+handful of thick Arab cigarettes.
+
+"Dost thou use the Consoler? ... Take, then!"
+
+"May Allah make it 'take' upon thee, O generous hearted one! ..."
+
+As the handful changes owners, and other soldiers look out of the
+corners of their eyes and sidle nearer, the Shaykh plunges both hands
+into deep pockets beneath his mantle, and draws them forth generously
+filled with the thick, strong cigarettes.
+
+Upon the return of the _bash-châwush_ with the information--willingly
+placed at the service of the Emir--that the pass-word of the night is
+"Baal Zebub," he, too, accepts a handful of the cigarettes that are
+so heavily drugged with opium. And then the Shaykh Gôhar, with
+ceremonious farewells, stalks away from the Wired Enclosure, knowing
+his work begun.
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+Since the departure of the Shaykh Sadân, the man who sank fainting to
+the floor of the wooden hut has moved once only. It was when he
+revived, dragged himself to his knees, and while his strength
+sufficed--lifting his clasped hands above his head--sent forth his
+soul in prayer.... Exhausted then, he collapsed once more, and
+dropped forwards, falling with outflung arms across the palm-wood
+bed-frame, and for how long he does not know, was lost in
+unconsciousness.
+
+When sight and hearing return to him, thick darkness presses on his
+burning eyeballs, and the "Lights Out" of the Turkish _boruzan_ is
+ringing in his ears. Half kneeling by the _anghareb_, half lying
+across it, his face is turned towards the east wall of the hut.
+Through a biggish knot-hole in the planks, he has found it possible
+to see--given sufficient light outside--beyond the barbed wire fence
+a circumscribed patch of the south-going road, the tumbled hills in
+the distance and the dome of the Tomb of Joseph in the foreground....
+These intermittently blotted out by the figure of the Turkish sentry,
+passing to the end of his beat at the south angle of the Enclosure,
+or passing back to the angle at the junction of the road that leads
+to the town's east gate, with the Jerusalem-Shechem Road.
+
+Even in darkness, the edges of the knot-hole are outlined by a fitful
+glimmer. The flash of an electric torch, the twinkle of a firefly,
+the ray of a shooting-star--there are many in this month of
+November--find their way through the knot-hole in the wall.
+
+But the knot-hole is no longer there. They have stopped it up from
+outside! he thinks, and a groan breaks from him. He has borne so
+much that this little thing--fresh evidence of studied malice on the
+part of his jailers--hurts, like the brutal tearing of a bandage from
+a stiffened wound.... He shudders, hearing a curious, scratching,
+rasping sound, mingled with low whispering:
+
+"_Sidi, Sidi! ... Sidi, Sidi!_"
+
+His blood freezes in his veins. What is that strange, soft voice,
+and where does it come from? Can this be another essay on the part
+of the Shaykh Sadân? He waits for the next move--setting his teeth,
+steeling his soul with faith in his Master. Now, now, the whispering
+comes again:
+
+"_Sidi, Sidi!_ Do you hear me? O _Sidi_, are you there? ..."
+
+It is the thin, rustling voice of the little Mother of Ugliness. He
+utters a stifled cry of joy, and dragging his chain with him, rolls
+off the _anghareb_, and in his weakness, sinks down close to the
+hut's east wall. Passing his thin hands over the wall in the
+darkness, he encounters a projection. The end of a long
+rubber-covered cane, from which the whispering comes:
+
+"If the Sidi hears my voice, let him be pleased to answer! It is
+Ummshni! ..."
+
+"I hear," he calls back through the improvised speaking-tube. "May
+God reward thee, gentle heart! How didst thou find me out? ..."
+
+"How, is a long story meet for telling elsewhere. Has the Sidi a
+bowl, or other vessel? If not let him set mouth to the end of this,"
+the speaker taps on the tube gently with a fingernail, "and I will
+pour milk through the canes. Tap thrice when I am to pour! ..."
+
+He does so, and the tube is slowly tilted, and a cautious trickle of
+boiled goat's milk flows over his parched tongue. He sucks for life,
+and when he has drunk:
+
+"Rest now," says the whispering voice. "It is ill to take overmuch
+at the beginning. Next time I will give thee broth, and afterwards
+good wine. For the Sidi must be strengthened against the hour when
+for the prisoner comes Rescue. Let him tap thrice on the pipe if he
+has heard...."
+
+He taps on the cane-lined length of rubber tubing.... The little
+voice goes on:
+
+"Listen, my lord! ... At midnight thy friends will come to deliver
+thee. So, when thou hast well taken the soup and wine, lie down on
+the bed and rest.... Sleep if thou canst, but not too sound. When
+there comes a scraping in the earth under the bedstead, rise up and
+move aside the _anghareb_. My lord has clearly heard? ..."
+
+He signifies assent, and the voice goes on whispering, sending a
+reviving stream of Hope into his empty, sapless heart, that is
+invigorating to his drooping spirit, as the milk to his famished body.
+
+"Lift up the _anghareb_, and thou wilt find a hole in the earth under
+it. Planks covered with earth hide the hole. The hole is the Gate
+of Hope for thee!--the Way that leads to Freedom! Does the Sidi
+understand?"
+
+"I do, and thank thee from my soul! ... Who are the friends, Ummshni?
+I only have known of one beside thyself. But no word has reached me
+from that man, since the War Prisoners were shifted from camp at
+Beersheba to the Barracks here at Shechem!"
+
+"Thou hast four friends here besides myself!"
+
+He did not know he was so rich, and a thrill of joy goes through him.
+
+"The chief of them is Edward Yaill. Thou dost recall that name? Ay!
+Then comes John Hazaël...."
+
+That the prisoner has no knowledge of John Hazaël, his silence seems
+to testify.
+
+"It does not matter!" The little voice is dry. "The friends to whom
+we owe the most are often strangers to us. Now it is time to give
+thee the broth!"
+
+He sucks the life-giving stuff through the tube. With her womanly,
+maternal solicitude, she checks him after a little:
+
+"Stay, now.... The Sidi feels his strength increased? ..."
+
+He does, and says so gratefully.
+
+"Then--lest it make the Master sleep too heavily, I will not give him
+the wine yet. Now let him lie down awhile on the bed that is in
+there. I remain outside, watching. What says my lord?"
+
+"The sentry.... How is it he does not see thee? ..."
+
+Something like Ummshni's little rustling laugh comes through the
+rubber-covered pipe-stems.
+
+"Love hath no eyes, it is often said. Since a white flower fell on
+the dust in the dusk, and a light foot went past him, is Baba Ishak,
+the Darweesh, blind--and dumb as well, ah-hah! Now he is at the
+other end of his beat, his face set to Ebal, and the Tombs of the
+Sons of Mohammed. He is waiting Opportunity, as a dog near the
+butcher's shop.... When the butcher looks the other way--or goes
+into the house to speak to his wife, the dog sneaks round the
+doorpost and--his head is in the scrap-box! Sweet,--the first greedy
+crunch, and gulp.... But then comes the butcher's chopper--down on
+the dog's skull! Now lie thou down and try to sleep. I have said I
+will keep watch here! ..."
+
+Holding his chain so that it may not clank, Father Julian creeps back
+to the verminous bed, and tries to do her bidding. But the throbbing
+of his anxious heart and the roaring of the blood in his ears make
+sleep impossible. The cheap gun-metal wrist-watch that he wears has
+not been taken from him, and it has been kept wound up--it is ticking
+companionably now. Four matches are left in his box. Sheltering the
+flame within the coat that serves him as a bed-covering, he strikes a
+match, and looks at the watch. It is twenty minutes past ten
+o'clock, and Deliverance comes at midnight. How wait through the
+long hours, for that knocking under the floor?
+
+
+The Darweesh who is _imâm_ of his platoon, and can resist all the
+Forbidden Things except the Cup of Beauty, stands at the north angle
+of the Wired Place, looking towards the Tombs. In his hot thick hand
+is a white rose, sweet and musky-smelling, in his nostrils a whiff of
+sandal and some pungent Bazâr perfume. The Baba is a little man, and
+his inamorata a tallish woman, but she looked a strapping wench
+to-night, as she passed him at the other end of his beat, with a
+whispered word and a dropped flower, and a provocative flash of her
+gipsy-eyes from the folds of her white _izar_.
+
+He wheels, smacks the butt of his Mauser rifle with the flat of his
+broad hand, and licks his thick lips longingly. Turning out his
+sandalled toes--for the second-line troops of the Redif stick to the
+old-fashioned _chariks_, with bandages wound round the leg from the
+calf down--he marches towards the sentry-box where Delilah waits for
+him.
+
+There is little breeze on this muggy night of scant starshine and
+blotted shadows, but a south-going waft sends a withered leaf or a
+torn scrap of paper scurrying at Baba Ishak's heels along the dusty
+road.
+
+"_Tr'rp--tr'rp--tr'rp!_" ...
+
+A tiny sound, and yet it irks and fidgets.
+
+"_Trrp--tr'rp ...!_"
+
+Whatever it is, it scurries past, as the Darweesh halts before the
+sentry-box. Snuffing the clamorous perfume of the Bazâr with an
+anticipative smile on his thick lips, he stands on the threshold and
+peers into the darkness.
+
+"Inaini!" he coos, amorously to the odorous obscurity. "My soul! My
+eyes! Thou hast come to me! Tell me that thou art there? ..."
+
+Undoubtedly Inaini is there, he can see her white figure plainly
+against the shadowy background. It is late in the day for Inaini to
+be coy, but too early not to humour her. He stretches out a greedy,
+perspiring hand. It touches the folds of her _izar_. Stung to
+enterprise, prodded by propinquity, the Baba puts down his Mauser,
+carefully leaning it against the side of the sentry-box, and blunders
+forwards. Aha! At last he has her, the willing prisoner of his
+eager arms.
+
+_Mashâllah!_ how the gipsy hugs. All the breath is squeezed out of
+the Baba. What is this that coils about him, binding down his arms?
+Not a rope? _Chok_! _chok_! He opens his jaws to expostulate--and a
+gag of oiled camel-hide is deftly slipped between them--and strapped
+uncomfortably tight at the back of his bull-neck. Swiftly his knees
+are bound, and then his ankles, and he is tenderly lowered to the
+bottom of the sentry-box.
+
+
+The love affair of the Baba and the gipsy has ended with dramatic
+swiftness. Now the dark figure of a man steps out of the sentry-box,
+picks up the Mauser and resumes the beat of galloping hoofs coming
+along the Shechem road, and gleam glints on the bandolier taken from
+the victim, it shows the face of Namrûd under the khaki _enverieh_.
+And caught in some stray backwash of the sickly breeze that carried
+it, the tiny thing like a withered leaf, flits down the road again.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+Whether John Hazel dreamed or not, things have happened as he has
+seen them. Conscious thought returns to him, sitting on the box of
+bombs. His lungs fill with a deep breath. He yawns hugely, blinks
+his eyes, squares his shoulders and looks about him. The
+constellation Orion blazes over Gilead, the Pleiades are hidden from
+sight by sombre clouds. There is a strange glare in the sky over the
+crest of Gerizim.
+
+In mid-song the bulbuls have fallen silent. Even the pariah-dogs and
+the jackals are still. There is something abroad upon the air
+to-night, that weighs upon the spirit of humanity, and daunts the
+creatures, soulless as we imagine, with the sense of evil, nameless
+and unseen, but dominant and powerful to harm....
+
+And now the man who listens at his post hears the quick beat of
+galloping hoofs coming along the Shechem road, and thrills with
+expectation:
+
+
+"That's them!" In moments of keen excitement John's grammar is apt
+to fail. "Them, for a quid! Or the Colonel hasn't pulled off the
+snatch, and has had--"
+
+He breaks off as the horsemen round a curve of the road. Where a
+patch of the grudging moonlight whitens the ground, he makes out that
+there are only three of them. No! Four--! Three riders in ample,
+flowing Arab dress, and a fourth in the close-fitting kit of a
+European--who reels and sways unsteadily in his saddle, and would
+fall--but for the help that another gives--with a hand that is
+sometimes at his back, and sometimes at his bridle.
+
+"By God!--"
+
+With a great exultant throb, John swings himself down from the lorry
+upon the road, as the riders check the gallop of their eager,
+snorting horses.... And the hot, white limestone dust of Samaria
+rises in pungent clouds.
+
+Now through the dust an immense hand finds, grips and wrings the
+priest's, and a deep resonant voice, not like any he has heard
+before, and yet not strange, says rapidly:
+
+"Thanks be to the Most High, my lord is delivered! Now, from the
+servant of his house, let him take this. It comes from the Sister of
+my lord" (a crumpled envelope is thrust into Julian Forbis's palm),
+"by the hand of John Hazel!"
+
+"A letter from my sister.... Sir, may God reward you! You must be
+John Hazaël, I think! Though I never heard that name until to-night,
+while I live I shall always bless it!"
+
+The voice sends an electric shock volting through John. It is like
+the voice he loves, as a man's may resemble a woman's, deeper,
+stronger, and hollow with fatigue. He returns:
+
+"My lord is right. I am the man John. Youngest and last of all
+Hazaëls of the line save one only.... But all the Hazaëls, from the
+first to the last, do battle for my lord this night in Samaria. Now
+let my lord ride hard for Kir Saba. Though his enemies pursue they
+shall not pass here! For, God so willing, I, thy servant, will keep
+this road barred!"
+
+"My cousin John! ..."
+
+He hears a timid call he knows, and turning towards the quarter
+whence it comes, traces it to its source in a small rebellious
+bundle, held on the front of an Arab's saddle.
+
+"O John my cousin, dost thou hear me! Entreat the Most Excellent One
+to set me on the ground!"
+
+"Mr. Hazel, with your good leave, I mean to take this lady to Kir
+Saba." It is the voice that spoke to him last in the chintz
+drawing-room at Kerr's Arbour. Dimly seen in the hazy moonlight, the
+eyes shaded by the silken _kuffiyeh_ meet John's, and although they
+are blazing with the fierce joy of the successful raider, he
+recognises the eyes of Edward Yaill.
+
+"Nay, nay! I would remain here with John Hazaël," the little
+creature pleads in her distress.
+
+"Thou wilt go with my lord and be his handmaid. When he needs thee
+no longer, then return to me. Hearest thou, woman?" the deep voice
+says, and Ummshni, bowing her veiled head, humbly answers:
+
+"O Head of our House, I hear! ..."
+
+"Farewell then, little Brave One!"
+
+In the dark John reaches out, and pats her small cold hand.
+
+"Not in this world, nor in the next will this that thou hast lone go
+unrewarded. What is that? ... Cavalry on the road!" His hearing, in
+this strange exalted mood of his, being even keener than Namrûd the
+Hunter's,--has warned him that a body of mounted men, coming from the
+direction of Shechem, are pushing along the road. He relapses into
+his ordinary, natural tone, as he says with a slap of his heavy hand
+on the flank of Fadl Anga's thoroughbred: "Ride for Kir Saba, Colonel
+Yaill, and all good luck to you!"
+
+"Thanks, Mr. Hazel, and good-bye. Though I would prefer your coming
+with us. You could take Namrûd's horse--and he and I would ride and
+run by turns. Not the first time we've covered distance that way!"
+
+There is an unalterable decision in the answer:
+
+"Much obliged, Colonel, but I've arranged to stay."
+
+"Good luck, then, and good-bye. You will shake hands at parting? ..."
+
+The huge hand of the big Jew, and Yaill's leaner, slenderer, smaller
+hand, meet and grip hard, then John steps backwards.
+
+"Ride like old hell, the lot of you. I stop--to carry on!"
+
+A clatter of hoofs and they are away, in a cloud of the dust of
+Samaria, flavoured with the chamomile and wormwood of the desert, the
+acrid sweat of man and horse, tobacco, attar of roses, and leather
+tanned by Bedwân with bitter laurel-bark. John Hazel looks about
+him, fills his lungs with deep breaths and calculates his powers.
+How if one man were able to move the lorry across the road!
+
+He frees himself from his Arab head-cloth and mantle, ties the ends
+of the long sleeves of his _kumbas_ together, slips the knot
+Fellah-wise over his head, and pulls up the camel-hair shirt to
+mid-thigh. Even as the lean, tanned Prophet girded himself for the
+long race from Carmel up to Samaria, before the King in his ivory
+chariot--and the rainstorm hurtling on the heels of the King....
+
+Now he swings himself to the driver's seat, manipulates the steering
+wheel, and lifts the starting-lever. Now he gets down, spins the
+crank, and heaves at the near fore-wheel. The lorry shakes, the
+ponderous armoured wheel moves--and the sweat pours off John Hazel.
+He sets his teeth, and braces himself again, using the sound,
+uninjured leg as fulcrum of the lever. With a sound like the dumping
+of a load of ancient iron on the scrap-heap--the Turkish
+ammunition-lorry moves across the road....
+
+Just in time, for the clink of cavalry chain-bridles and scabbards,
+and the clatter of hoofs come nearer with every instant.... John
+fills the breast of his Arab shirt with bombs, and stands up on the
+lorry, in the straddling but purposeful attitude attributed to the
+Colossus of Rhodes.
+
+"Old Harris and the chaps of my platoon used to call me a dirty
+fighter," he thinks, reverting to the vernacular of his adoptive
+land. "Well, this is going to be the dirtiest fight I ever put up.
+O all you old Hazaël men, back to the very oldest, help me to keep
+the road that leads to Kir Saba, for to-night! ..."
+
+Rattle and clink. The creak and wheeze of straining leather. Half a
+squadron of Turkish Mounted Police spur round the bend in the road.
+
+Well armed, well mounted, big and bearded Turks, the pick of the
+Bey's squadrons of mounted gendarmerie. The darkness hides the
+crimson fez and the smart Hussar uniform of dark blue with red and
+orange braiding. But what light there is is caught and given back by
+long shiny jack-boots--and the barrels of Winchester
+repeating-rifles--and eyes that glitter in swarthy faces that are
+ablaze with the hope of a reward.
+
+Crash! ...
+
+A bomb falls in the middle of the road in front of the
+squadron-leader, and explodes with a shattering detonation that calls
+loud echoes from the hills. The squadron-leader's jaw is torn away.
+He and his horse go down, the poor brute screaming in a pool of his
+own innocent blood and vainly struggling to rise upon his shattered
+forelegs.... Two of the other riders are wounded by flying
+splinters. Crash!--another bomb falls and detonates in the road....
+
+"A Forbis! A Forbis! May Forbis foes fall! A Forbis! A Forbis!
+..."
+
+With this strange foreign slogan the Hills of Samaria ring, and a
+volley from the Winchesters of the Bey's men rattles back in answer.
+Bullets flatten on the rocks--pass through the sides of the lorry,
+shiver the lamps, rip the front hood, and dent the engine-bonnet. A
+second Winchester-volley clatters amongst the rocks--when a bomb,
+hurled by a phenomenally long arm, falls in the midst of the
+squadron. And the Bey's Mounted Policemen scatter and retreat in
+confusion, leaving dead men and horses behind them on the road....
+
+John draws breath. A revolver cracks behind him--a bullet sings past
+his right cheek--and another, whistling through his hair, burns as it
+scores a furrow in the scalp at the top of his head....
+
+"Bloody close! And fired from behind!"
+
+He looks round, and is shot at from the original quarter to intimate
+that the retreat was only a feint. The baffled force of
+gendarmerie--trained scouts for the most part--mountaineers and
+hunters, has split into two parties; the hardier spirits--as the
+breaking of branches and the fluttering of birds scared from the
+coverts testifies--are scrambling down the steep face of the defile,
+from the northern side of the road.
+
+Again a revolver-shot cracks out behind John. He slews his head and
+catches a glimpse of the man who fired, crouching behind a boulder,
+on the Jaffa side of the lorry.
+
+_Crash! crash!_ ...
+
+Two bombs greet the renewal of the attack upon the Shechem side....
+Three, hurled one after the other with dazzling rapidity, explode in
+the covert that clothes the cliff-face. Another hits the boulder by
+the road, and lessens its proportions. But the sharp brain behind it
+has foreseen that it would come.
+
+Lying on his stomach, the Bey's man crawls to the opposite side of
+the highway. Crouching in the shadows, he waits unseen. The scene
+is handsomely illuminated now by bonfires among the brushwood. Bombs
+explode east and west, the arms of the giant on the lorry whirl like
+the sails of a windmill. It is at this juncture that John begins to
+sing....
+
+Never did light of moon and stars shine on a grimmer spectacle. Foul
+with grime, whitened with dust, smeared and raddled with blood from
+his scalp-wound, the leaping fires on either hand show him black as a
+fiend from hell. The Bey's gendarme is a plucky child of Islam, but
+he shudders. What if no human, killable man, but one of the demon
+Sons of Iblis be he who is capering and dealing Death on the
+Jaffa-Shechem road to-night? Streaming with sweat, stricken with
+deadly fear, he gasps:
+
+"_Mashallah_! I invoke the Protection of the Most High against Satan
+the Stoned! ..."
+
+And springing up, sets a foot on the wheel, and leaps into the lorry.
+Next moment, locked in a wrestling-hug, two black shapes strive
+together, while the _zabtiehs_ hold their fire for fear of hitting
+their own man.
+
+The struggle is over in less than half a minute. The Turk is strong,
+but in those great and ruthless hands, he is dealt with easily. His
+foot slips in his opponent's blood, for the giant is bleeding freely
+from chips in various places. He yells as he is bent back.... Then
+his spurred feet are lifted. He is tossed out of the lorry, landing
+on his head--and as John continues bomb-throwing--loses temporarily,
+all interest in the fight....
+
+Now comes from the Shechem side, a charge of mounted _zabtiehs_.
+John sings as he pulls pins,--pitches and proves the impotence of
+flesh and blood, human and equine, pitted against H.E. The police
+are shooting freely but wildly from behind and before him. Right and
+left he gives them the last sigh of No. 1 box--and is diving into the
+other--to rise up armed, when a bomb, that has fallen in the roadway
+without the customary explosion--is picked up by a plucky _zabtieh_
+and hurled back into the lorry....
+
+John realises as the projectile falls amongst the boxed explosives
+that the fight is over. He leaps from the lorry on the Jaffa side,
+and knows no more. Miles away southward, as the huge detonation
+shakes the hills, and avalanches of _débris_ tumble from the cliffs,
+a Gunner Officer of a Field Battery of the 52nd Division, holding the
+mud village of Mughar, says to his colleague indifferently, shutting
+his night-glasses:
+
+"The Huns are having the time of their lives to-night in Samaria.
+Regular posh firework-display to-night on the Shechem-Jaffa road.
+Now they've exploded an ammunition-dump, or something uncommonly like
+it! Hope it's wiped out a few more Turks!--there are plenty of 'em
+to spare!"
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+For Katharine Forbis those two days of suspense, so fraught with fate
+for the two she held dearest, were ordeals of anguish only made
+bearable by the work that filled the daylight hours and the sleep,
+begotten of the work--that came to her at night. On the morning
+following the bomb-fight on the Shechem-Jaffa Road, the Base was
+ringing with the seizure of Junction Station; the sensational escape
+of Von Kressenstein's train, and the taking, by cavalry charges from
+the north, of the strong place of Mughar--a mud village on a hill,
+converted into a veritable wasp's nest by Turkish mountain-howitzers,
+Turkish machine gunners and Turkish riflemen.
+
+The temper of the enemy stiffened. Resistance still was
+stubborn--difficulties of transport still held up the Expeditionary
+Army in full sight of the Jerusalem-Shechem Road. Yet it was the Day
+of the White Arm.... Three Captains' Crusaders of the Bucks Hussars
+and Dorset Yeomanry led the dazzling charges that cleared the way for
+the 52nd Division, and made of Mughar "not a sweet place to look at,"
+as an English War Correspondent put it pithily--for many Turkish
+heads being cleft in twain after the approved mediæval method--the
+place wanted a lot of cleaning up. One of the glorious Three--son of
+a great English Statesman, himself an Under Secretary for Foreign
+Affairs and one of the Chief Whips of the 1915 Ministry--was shot
+barely twelve hours after the victory. And before sunset on this
+day, a distinguished Jew; financier, soldier, sportsman,
+philanthropist--met death almost within sight of the Colonies founded
+by his family on the Plains of Sharon, and south of Jaffa the
+Beautiful....
+
+On this same date Maurice Hazel, piloting a Handley-Page bomber on a
+raid over the Hindenburg Line, was killed by a hit from German
+shrapnel.... And Lady Wastwood, reading the War News in the late
+edition of the _Alexandrian Courier_ and crying over men who had been
+ancient flames, and boys who had been her dead boy's
+School-chums--came on this undistinguished item among the casualties,
+and recognised the name.
+
+"'Maurice Benn Hazel' ... Kathy's huge Jew friend mentioned having a
+brother Maurice in the R.F.C. As I really want an excuse for a word
+with Kathy, I'll look her up and mention the thing. Though it seems
+rather like making use of the poor dear boy! How callous we're all
+getting. But I suppose we have to be, to carry on at all!"
+
+With which conclusion, the day's work being over, Trixie removed the
+traces of emotion with powder, and betook herself in search of
+Katharine.
+
+She found Miss Forbis in the rose-garden pavilion, reading letters
+from England that had come by the afternoon's mail. Time had not
+served until now to open them, and the first envelope had contained a
+type-written enclosure within, a communication from Sir Arthur Ely,
+appended here below:
+
+
+ HOLBORN COURT,
+ _November_ 3_rd_, 1917.
+
+"MY DEAR MISS FORBIS,
+
+Knowing you to be working with the Red Cross at Montana Convalescent
+Hospital near Alexandria, and in the hope that Colonel Yaill--from
+whom I have not heard since he left England last February, may have
+communicated to you his present address--I have thought it best to
+send you the enclosed copy of a letter recently delivered at his
+Club, and opened by me as his solicitor--having authority from him,
+in his absence, to deal with his correspondence, and administer his
+business affairs. I am sufficiently old a friend of his and yours
+also, to add my heartiest congratulations to you both.
+
+ "Very sincerely yours,
+ "ARTHUR CAMERON ELY."
+
+
+Here is the enclosure:
+
+
+ "PARK AUXILIARY MILITARY HOSPITAL,
+ "HOODING,
+ "SUSSEX.
+
+"_November_ 2, 1917
+
+"DEAR SIR:
+
+"A friend of mine who you met under the name of Nurse Lucy Burtonshaw
+at the Convalescent Officers Camp, B---- Base in November 1915 has
+asked me to write you her hands being full at present and feeling
+herself unequal to the task.
+
+"The fact is that while finishing her three years service as a
+Probationer at the County General Hospital Leam Somerset in 1913 she
+was married on the strict Q.T. at the Registrar's Office Leam to
+Private J. Didlick of the 5th Lancers a young man known from
+childhood and objected to by Lucy's parents on the grounds of his
+being the son of the local baker and too much given to drink. In
+August 1914 Private Didlick went to the Front with the First
+Expeditionary Army and his name duly appeared upon the list of Killed
+after the Battle of Mons. Nurse Burtonshaw regrets that she omitted
+to mention this at the time of your marriage her hands being so full
+just then.
+
+"I will not detain you further except by saying that in April last on
+the eve of the Battle of Arras Private now Lance-Corporal Didlick
+with several other British prisoners escaped from the zone of fire
+where they had been kept by the Germans at forced work and very badly
+used Corporal Didlick particularly being covered with boils and
+weighing only 8st. 31bs. when drafted Home and later on sent to this
+Hospital I could hardly recognise him. Later I communicated with his
+wife and advised her to break the news to you her proper place
+undoubtedly being by her poor husband's side. Her hands being full
+she has put off writing up to the present. Now at her request us
+being old friends I have taken up the pen.
+
+"Mrs. Didlick earnestly hopes you will regard bygones as bygones and
+requests me herewith to enclose your cheque received for her last
+quarter's allowance regularly forwarded since February by your
+Solicitor, Sir Arthur Ely to whose care this communication is
+addressed. In case of loss in the post things being so uncertain in
+War Time I have sent another letter similarly worded care of Miss
+Forbis, Kerr's Arbour, Nr Cauldstanes Tweedshire, N.B.
+
+ "I remain, Dear Sir,
+ "Truly yours
+ "DOROTHY PIDGE,
+ "_Certified Nurse ----th Nursing Unit R.R.C._"
+
+"P.S. Excuse the liberty but I do hope you won't be hard on Lucy!
+She means well but hasn't a particle of moral backbone."
+
+
+If Katharine perused this queer letter with mingled sensations,
+amazed joy and unutterable relief ruled predominant above all.
+
+For it was over, the haunting day and nightmare of loss and
+separation. Her bosom rose upon a long breath of relief, as the
+burden passed away. The barrier dividing Katharine from all she held
+dearest, had vanished at the wholesome touch of loyal Nurse Dorothy
+Pidge.
+
+"Thank God! and thank you--you honest-hearted woman! Now to tell
+Edward--if I knew where to reach him!" was her thought. And the
+claws of suspense fastened in her soul anew, and that moment's joyful
+lightening of her heart made the weight that burdened it even more
+intolerable to bear.
+
+Not the cool sea-breeze that stole through the fretted sides of the
+Khedive's marble pavilion, the beloved haunt of her leisure, nor the
+fragrance of the November-blooming roses that climbed its walls, and
+wreathed the balustrade of its terrace with trails of pink and
+orange, cream and white and crimson; not the nightingales that sang
+in the moss-cup oaks, nor the orioles that built amongst the
+vine-trellises--where the fireflies would twinkle and gleam at dusk
+when the nightingales sang their sweetest--could bring soothing to
+her tortured mind, or rest to her overwrought nerves.
+
+"I can't--stand--much more!" she said slowly, speaking aloud of
+purpose, for the sheer relief of speech. "We have all got a point
+beyond which we break, and this is my breaking-point. Oh! for some
+news of those three men of mine!"
+
+Edward Yaill, Julian and John Hazel.... She saw them individually,
+each reduced to the size of a gnat, at the end of a long vista,
+striving, and striving desperately, yet unable to meet and touch.
+She saw them in the midst of a cloud of other human gnats, buzzing
+and stinging.... She saw them borne down by numbers--she saw them
+emerge triumphant. She saw--
+
+"Darling Kathy, do unclench your hands and iron out your forehead,"
+said the welcome voice of Trixie at this juncture: "Even a woman with
+your appearance cannot afford to go on, looking like Lady Macbeth,
+Clytemnestra and Antigone, rolled into one, for long!"
+
+"Did I ... Do I?" Katharine asked absently....
+
+"You both did and do," Trixie returned. She came and sat on the
+balcony near Katharine and touched her lightly on the shoulder with a
+long, thin but sympathetic hand. "You're rather a terrifying person
+when you look like this, but I have a reason for being venturesome.
+May I broach a subject I've avoided for ages? I need hardly explain,
+I fancy, that the subject is Edward Yaill?"
+
+Such burning colour flooded the face now turned to hers, that Trixie
+experienced relief from forebodings that had haunted her. The
+colossal coffee-coloured Jew with the coarse black hair, Cockney
+accent and huge nose was nothing to Kathy! She always had had that
+wonderful look when you mentioned Edward Yaill. She was unchanged...
+It upset you to imagine that women like Kathy altered. It did you
+good to find out that she stuck to the old love....
+
+The subject broached, Trixie told her tale. Faithful to the motto of
+the Liberal Ladies War Service League, "Do Anything, Go Anywhere,
+Stick at Nothing and Never Grouse!" she had, pending her return to
+active usefulness, been "rummaging out" cases in the General
+Hospitals who wanted extra visiting, letter-writing and bucking. And
+at No. 11 she had come across a Nice Man, newly convalescent from a
+collection of intestinal symptoms prevalent among the Expeditionary
+Forces,--assembled by the C.M.O. under the heading "Bilharziosis,"
+and simplified to "Bill Harris," in the mouths of sufferers
+therefrom....
+
+"A Sergeant of the 'Tweedburgh Regiment' transferred-- Don't ask me
+how! to a Lowland Territorial Battalion, and perfectly devoted to
+Colonel Yaill. Nearly cried when he talked of him. Desperately keen
+to get a letter written and smuggled Home--for of course the Censor
+wouldn't dream of passing it!--to Yaill's sisters at his place in
+Cumberland, and another to Miss Forbis, 'her that the Colonel ought
+to have been married on--saying the Colonel is alive and serving with
+the Secret Intelligence Corps in the Front in Palestine.'"
+
+"Dear Lady Wastwood--"
+
+"My child, don't put me off with interruptions! Of course I
+explained to my poor sick man that the letter couldn't be properly
+engineered, and might do Colonel Yaill harm if the contents got out.
+But I told him you were out here, and should have his information.
+The man swears Edward to be an intrepid Scout, famous for making his
+way through the Turkish Lines, on foot or mounted on a swift horse,
+sometimes alone!--sometimes with two companions.... He has been seen
+in Cairo dressed as a French Staff Officer--we know he speaks the
+language perfectly!--and in Constantinople as a Greek Interpreter to
+one of the Embassies. And here in Alex, he has gone about disguised
+as an Arab--or a Gippy of the Labour Corps--"
+
+"I know it, dear Lady Wastwood, I was almost sure of it before!--I
+have been certain since John Hazel came back from the Front four days
+ago, to tell me--"
+
+Trixie's green eyes enlarged under their arched black eyebrows, that
+so much resembled musical slurs.
+
+"Of course! I might have known. Do go on, like a Precious Person!
+If a sieve about my own affairs, I'm a tomb for the secrets of
+others!"
+
+So Katharine, knowing this to be true, told Trixie the reason of her
+anxiety. Characteristically the long thin finger pointed to the
+doubtful spot:
+
+"It's thrilling in the extreme. No wonder you're in tatters with
+anxiety. But I can't help seeing that it's rather fatal to have two
+different people plotting to save one man. Almost like a brace of
+dentists tugging at a single tooth, isn't it? Why couldn't they have
+Joined forces and worked it as a Syndicate? That's what your John
+Hazel will try for, I feel it in my bones. One thing I must say! I
+do wish the Basilisk hadn't anything to do with it! That
+oily-tongued little Egyptian Flying Pasha gives me the creeps! But
+the main thing just now is to buck up, and believe that everything
+will come off rippingly. And I have a feeling in my bones it will!"
+
+"And if it doesn't--if the news is the worst that can be told, I hope
+that I shall be brave enough to bear it!" said Katharine. "I hope
+that I shall never swerve from the belief that Love--as it exists
+between clean-souled men and women--isn't only for this world! And
+that the pain of frustrated earthly passion may be so mingled with
+the Faith that looks forward,--forward and Heavenward!--that parting
+for this little life may be robbed of its bitterest sting!"
+
+"My dear, I can't climb up to your level," said Trixie, blinking her
+green eyes and pursing her V-shaped, Pierrot mouth. "This
+world--when my husband and boys were in it--was good enough, I'm
+ashamed to say! And if they were back, I'm not going to pretend I
+should bother much about Heaven, and I do hope you've too much sense
+to believe that I should! But this business of yours will be pulled
+off all right. I feel it in my bones, and they never deceive me.
+Your brother Julian and your friend the Jew, and poor Edward
+Yaill--whom I treated so frightfully out of pure championship for you
+when he fell over my feet into the Express for Carlisle--that he fell
+out again!--All three will get safe out of the place with the name
+that reminds me of Sunday School examinations. And you and I will be
+standing here, like the heroine and her bosom-friend in the scene
+that comes just before the return of the hero in what American people
+call a four-mile-reel-scream, when a letter or a wire will bring the
+glad news. And you will read out the letter to me as they say the
+film people do it, keeping your features intelligently in play, and
+saying anything that comes into your head. Like this: 'Pepper,
+mustard, Cerebos, olive-oil and salad dressing! Piccalilli and
+catsup. O, Harrods! ... After all these months of beastly
+eating--tinned brawn for lunch again!'"
+
+Trixie's well-meant nonsense served its end, for Katharine could
+resist no more and burst out laughing.
+
+"You dear!" Miss Forbis's laughing eyes were soft as she passed an
+arm round the long narrow waist and warmly kissed the thin white
+cheek. She added, as Trixie returned the caress: "You're priceless
+to me, Commandant! When I feel down, or get the blues--with reason
+or without them--you're a better pick-me-up than all the Worcester
+sauce in the world."
+
+"Horrible stuff!" Trixie made a grimace, "I've always loathed it.
+Once I had a dear old friend who drank herself to death on that. Her
+husband--lucky man! never suspected until she died--and they found
+the chimney in her dressing-room simply blocked with empty shilling
+bottles. Who's that? _Di ê di_? Have you a message there? ..."
+
+A cautious footstep on the gravel path, badly neglected since the
+War, and overgrown with patches of rafia, had first reached Lady
+Wastwood's ears. Now a man--recognised by Katharine and her friend
+as the dapper French-speaking Italian chauffeur who had driven them
+from Alexandria three days previously, in the Daimler car belonging
+to Essenian, stepped from the trellised shade of a path into the
+light of the rose-wreathed doorway, and saluting the ladies without
+speaking, held out a letter to Katharine.
+
+News....
+
+Something in Katharine's bosom leaped.... She felt stifled, as
+though the fretted, sun-flecked walls of the Khedive's rose-pavilion
+were those of a brick-built prison, impervious to light and air. But
+with an effort she mastered herself, and took the offered
+letter--hoping the Italian did not note the trembling of her hand.
+
+It was a square heliotrope envelope, violently scented with some
+clinging Eastern perfume that revolted Katharine. The address to
+"Miss Forbis, Convalescent Hospital, The Palace, Montana," was typed
+in vivid violet ink. Unwilling to open the letter in the presence of
+a stranger, Katharine hesitated, looking at the Italian:
+
+"Is there any reply to this? ..."
+
+Lady Wastwood had spoken. The Italian answered in his nasal French,
+looking at Katharine:
+
+"The car is waiting.... If Mademoiselle would read!"
+
+Katharine, conscious of the unsteadiness of her hands, opened the
+type-addressed envelope. The sheet of paper it contained bore this
+message:
+
+
+"Come at once. Urgent! J. H."
+
+
+The four-word message and the initials beneath were typed in violet
+ink. Underneath was an impression in coarse green sealing-wax of the
+onyx signet-ring....
+
+Katharine was silent, mastering her deep excitement. That green seal
+seemed to burn through her eyes and sear her brain as she stared at
+it. Again she heard John Hazel saying:
+
+"Suppose I were ever to send a line saying '_Come at once!_' ...
+Well, don't come!--unless the paper bears an impression of this, in
+sealing-wax, or clay, or bread or mud.... And test it by the ring
+you wear, before you accept it...."
+
+The test could be made at once. She glanced at the signet on her
+left hand and then at the Italian chauffeur. His round, black eyes
+were fixed on her, watching her eagerly. She spoke to the man in
+quiet, level tones:
+
+"I will come in a few minutes. Be good enough to wait for me...."
+
+"As Mademoiselle desires." The Italian's bird-bright eyes snapped
+excitedly. "I will go back and wait for her. But--" he shrugged and
+spread his olive hands, "we have a long way to go. Mademoiselle
+understands that, naturally...."
+
+"I understand, and I will come in five minutes," Katharine said, with
+her tone of calm authority.
+
+"My dear--" Lady Wastwood asked anxiously, as the Italian saluted,
+wheeled and went out of the pavilion: "You've had news!--I see it in
+your face."
+
+"No news!" Katharine said. "But a summons, most certainly." Days
+previously, she had taken a careful impression in scarlet sealing-wax
+of the relievo head of Hercules upon her black onyx signet. Now she
+took from her cigarette-case the card bearing the impression, and
+laying the letter on the marble table the pavilion contained, placed
+the card face downwards over the green seal on the heliotrope paper.
+The surfaces of paper and card met and wedded, as the green relievo
+sank into the scarlet intaglio, and the two Hercules' heads became
+one.
+
+"I'm fearfully impressed." Trixie's eyes were circular with interest
+and curiosity. "But what on earth is that for? ..."
+
+"Just to make sure," Katharine said, turning away, "that the message
+that says, '_Come At Once. Urgent!_' is really from John Hazel. Now
+I must go. I've a suit-case ready packed in our sleeping-tent, and
+the Commandant has been prepared against my being called suddenly
+away. As for the duty, Molly Lyne-Soames carries on instead of me.
+She's prepared--a regular brick of a girl!--and so--this until you
+next hear from me!" She caught the astonished Trixie in a warm
+embrace, kissed her thin cheeks and left a tear on one of them. "God
+bless you, you kindest of women!" she called, turning on the
+threshold of the rose-pavilion to wave her hand. "And so good-bye,
+until we meet again!"
+
+And flushed and radiant, Katharine was gone, taking with her in her
+haste a trail of a thorny climbing rose that had clung to her as
+though to keep her, and leaving its crimson petals scattered on the
+stone. As her light hurried footsteps died away--a little puff of
+the westerly breeze swept the card and the heliotrope letter, with
+their green and red seals, off the marble table to the floor--and
+hurried them into a corner as though their work were done.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+Near where Ismailia sits amidst her flowery gardens and tasselled
+avenues, on the edge of the scorching Desert of el Jifar, is an arid
+rectangle of sand east of the Canal, above Lake Timsah, used at the
+time I write of as an Air Base. Beyond Essenian, there were no
+native officers serving at the Air Base, though the indomitable
+Gyppos of the Labour Corps were employed at the aërodrome in building
+hangars, and cleaning the machines. Here rows of 'buses, both B.C.'s
+and D.H.6's--used for reconnaissance on the Canal, along the shores
+of the Red Sea as far as Aden--and over the Front in Palestine--were
+ranged in readiness in front of their great hangars, and observers in
+double-breasted tunics of drill or serge, with shorts and
+forage-caps--or yet more simply and economically attired in flannel
+shirts, canvas shoes and sun-helmets--stood on the summits of wooden
+towers, combing the blue with high-powered binoculars for enemy
+aircraft, in watches, relieved at three-hour intervals....
+
+
+Not without reason had the Pasha boasted of the beauty of his villa,
+a white marble palace of Arabian-Turkish architecture, standing well
+back from an avenue of casuarinas, embowered in trailing roses,
+clothed with imperial Bougainvillea and shaded with trees, rising
+from the green velvet lawns that carpet what was a rectangle of
+barrenness wrested from the Desert twenty-three years ago.
+
+Within the palace, suites of rooms--used in the Oriental style as
+reception saloons or bedrooms--according to the needs of the
+moment--were furnished in luxury rivalling the most modern of
+Parisian hotels. Soft-footed, low-voiced servants, chiefly
+Mohammedans, dressed in speckless white, and moving like automata,
+waited upon the master's guests and did the master's will.
+
+Here Nasr Ullah, the Pasha's elderly body-servant and confidential
+messenger, ruled with rigidity, taking it out of his subordinates
+when the Presence dealt hardly with him. In two rooms of the vast
+warren of rooms opening on a rearward court, his "house" and a small
+brood of sturdy boys were accommodated. A little dark Moslemah the
+wife of Nasr Ullah, well dressed and laden with solid silver
+jewellery. Plain, with projecting rabbit teeth, and shallow
+forehead; meek, dutiful, pious and greatly given to prayer. A grave
+for the secrets of her husband Nasr, who was occasionally burdened
+with a conscience, whose smarting called for soothing feminine balms.
+
+He stood on the threshold of his outer room, in the mild, pale hour
+when the stars were flowering through the last glow of the sunset,
+and his tall white turban was pushed awry, and his high forehead was
+ridged with care.
+
+"'Tis a tyranny to force a man of kindly heart towards God's
+creatures, to scatter poisoned barley for the birds," he said
+uneasily. "And the carrier-dove is the Bird of Nun, that went forth
+from the Ark and brought back the olive-leaf, and a dove was the bird
+that the Son of Mariam--when as yet but a babe of tender
+years--playing with others who knew not His holiness--wrought by the
+riverside of clay."
+
+"And the boys laughed and mocked Him, because He had made one bird
+instead of many. And He was not angry, but said, 'Do ye then as I
+do!' And then He clapped His hands and the dove flew away. Did it
+not so, O my father?" a thready voice piped.
+
+"Since when," asked Nasr Ullah with affected sternness, "have the
+babes permission to lift up voice when their elders take counsel?"
+His lined face softened into tenderness as the child clinging to the
+mother's skirts hid his head under her veil. "Remember, O woman!" he
+went on, "I have said the white powder is a deadly poison. If a
+speck, such as would lie safely hidden under the finger-nail--find a
+way into the child's milk-bowl, I were without a son."
+
+"It is all in there.... I boiled the barley until soft, and drained
+the water away carefully--emptied the paper-packet of powder in among
+the barley and stirred the barley well with a little stick. Then I
+burned both the paper and the stick, as thou didst order. Remains
+for thee to break the pot to sherds when--when thou hast finished. O
+my misfortune! What a task! My lord, Nasr Ullah, who hath the pride
+of princes!--to creep about under cover of night--from the courtyard
+of the Commandant-Sahib to the _haush_ where the _Ifrangis_ keep
+their swallow-boats, scattering poisoned barley for pigeons with
+messages--"
+
+"Hûs! ..."
+
+She had raised her usually quiet voice somewhat indiscreetly, and the
+toddler, youngest save one of Fatimeh's brood of four, scared by the
+unusualness of this demonstration, lifted up his own voice in a lusty
+howl.
+
+"_Hus--sus!_ No one is vexed with thee, my joy!--nobody is angry!
+Run out and play with the little grey goat awhile before thy
+sleep-time comes!" And as the boy with a shrill joyful chuckle
+toddled over the threshold to seek his playmate, Nasr Ullah promptly
+clapped the door to and shot the wooden door-bolt, and not content
+with this, pulled the heavy leather curtains that kept out chilly
+winds and June and February _samûms_, over the doorway and the
+latticed window-screens.
+
+"By the life of the Prophet--peace on him!--by thy head! speak lower.
+What Afrit hast thou vexed--throwing away the carrot-tops and the
+water that washed the dishes?" he demanded of his now
+hysterically-tearful wife. "Is this my house, whom I deemed discreet
+as Kadijah--peace be upon her! Raising the voice like a woman
+accustomed to go unveiled? Trumpeting secrets as it were on the very
+housetops! Wouldst be a widow? 'Nay?' Then shun the road to
+mourning! Wouldst die thyself, knowing thy four sons cast out--to
+whine for _faddahs_ and broken bread at the doors of the khans and
+mosques.... 'Nay' again? ... Then even hold thy tongue. And,
+Fatimeh my beloved--" Nasr Ullah's lean, dark, muscular hand
+caressed the woman's small head, adorned with a smart black silk
+kerchief with a brightly coloured border, and a forehead-string of
+coins--all gold ones, though their value was but small,--"vex not thy
+soul overmuch about the doves and pigeons. Are not their numbers
+countless as the numbers of the flies? And tell me, my olive-tree,
+fruitful in bearing--my Garment of Comfort," his tone had become
+wheedling, "whether any of the veiled women serving about this house
+be one-eyed? _Wallah_! I jest not! It is a new order of the
+Presence that all such are to be dismissed!"
+
+"How soon?" Another tempest seemed about to shake Nasr Ullah's
+fruitful olive. Her bosom under its many serried rows of solid
+silver necklaces began to heave again. Her heavy anklets clashed as
+her small, henna-stained feet shifted nervously on the whitened clay
+floor of the family living-room where the charcoal stove daily
+burned, and the cooking-pots stood against the wall. "How soon?"
+
+"By Allah! no later than an hour after sunrise, and that delay is
+granted as an especial grace."
+
+"And the mother of thy wife--the grandmother of thy children--the
+guardian of thy house's honour--what of her?" demanded Fatimeh; "Is
+she not one of the many decent ones upon whose eyes the flies have
+sat in childhood? Is--"
+
+"_Wallah_! I had forgotten her," exclaimed the man in dismay. For
+the mother of Fatimeh, at that moment congenially engaged in crooning
+the latest new baby to sleep, in the inner room dignified by the
+title of the _harîm_, had suffered in early youth, like many other
+Egyptian women of the lower classes, the loss, through ophthalmia, of
+one of her eyes.
+
+Now a faint grin showed on the face of her son-in-law, even in the
+midst of his perplexity, as he said:
+
+"Rebuke is justly mine, wife, that I did not remember it. But by the
+border of thine _usbêh_ I swear it! Thy mother sees more with her
+one eye than other women with two. Yet would I not part with her.
+She is wise in dealing with the teething-troubles of the lesser
+babes, and her slipper hath more sting in it than thine, for the
+ruling of the elder. We will send her away to thy brother at Kantara
+until this scare of one-eyed women is over and done. Meanwhile,--"
+he glanced over his shoulder at the door, and sitting on the
+hard-cushioned divan that ran round three sides of the whitewashed
+room, drew Fatimeh to sit beside him; "meanwhile I would speak to
+thee of Khalid thine eldest. Where is the boy to-night?"
+
+"He is gone with his brother Amru to lay snares for fig-birds in the
+orchard. They must be set at moon-dark, for the birds to enter them
+at dawn."
+
+"He is a born hunter. Seven years old this month of Safar, and
+witful as he is handsome--the praise be unto Allah Who makes them of
+all kinds! Wife, if I told thee that the Presence, seeing the boy so
+ripe for his tender years, and of goodly promise, had bidden--"
+
+Nasr Ullah's tone had been studiously commonplace, but the ridges in
+his high forehead had deepened, and his eyes had an anxious stare.
+He winced as his wife without a word slid from the divan, and next
+instant lay prostrate on the white-washed floor, with her forehead on
+his feet.
+
+"Nay, nay! ... My pearl, my joy! ... Take it not so hardly! ..."
+
+"O Everlasting, spare me this! O husband, in pity, hear me. Hast
+thou forgotten Nasi, our joy and my firstborn? He would have been
+nine years old, this Nile-Rise.... Hast thou forgotten? Ay, ay, it
+was the old cry; 'This boy was stupid--that one showed fear. This
+must have known sin,--for he could see nothing at all in the
+ink-pools or in the Eye of Radiance.' So the Presence takes my Nasi,
+and gives him gifts and praises his excellence, and one day he comes
+home, crying '_My head, my head!_' like the son of the woman who fed
+the Prophet El Jah, peace be upon him!--and three days later, thou,
+weeping bitter tears, dost hang my green-striped shawl over the
+shabid of his tiny bier."
+
+"Peace, wife!"
+
+Sweat broke forth and stood on Nasr Ullah's face. He wiped it with
+the sleeve of his white _kaftan_, repeating:
+
+"Peace, woman! ... It was a fever the boy had caught.... Dost thou
+not remember what the _hakim_ said? ..."
+
+"Ay! But I had watched by the bed of my sick child, and shuddered at
+the visions he told of in his ravings. O, Husband, I have sat in the
+house one year, and thou hast said in thine heart, '_She is
+forgetting_' ... Yet all the time--" She sat upright on the floor
+before him now, her strained eyes glued upon his worried face, and
+the swift words poured from her without his opposition.
+
+"Peace! thou sayest. How can there be peace in this house where
+soothsayers and necromancers come and go, and the sand-tables are
+forever cast, and fresh boys are brought each new day to peer into
+the ink-pools.... Lo! I will speak my mind. Ten years I have been
+thy wife, and a duteous and a silent, but a mother in fear for her
+flesh and blood hath the courage to defy Shaitan...."
+
+"Be not disturbed.... I will find some way. The boy shall be sent
+to El Kantara with thy mother."
+
+"And when my Agib is of likely age, will not the ink-pools claim him?
+Will the Presence have bowels to spare a child, who in all these
+years hath loved no woman?"
+
+"Nay," was the reply. "What need hath He of women, who is in love
+with Life? ..."
+
+"'Tis true. Save when the Inglizi ladies come with their menfolk to
+see the house and gardens, and eat fruit and drink iced sherbets, and
+say 'charmin'--charmin'' and 'rippin'--rippin','" thus the
+better-half of Nasr Ullah rendered the English slang, "no woman ever
+comes here. What now?" for the knee on which she rested her arm had
+jerked slightly.
+
+"I had forgotten. He hath said but now--that a woman comes here at
+midnight! No _râziye_ of the Bazâr, or other of the shameless, but a
+lady-Sahib from the Palace of Montana at Iskanderieh.... The car
+brings her by the fifth hour.... The gates are to be open. When the
+car has passed in, the gates are to be shut and locked...."
+
+"_Ya rabbi!_" The exclamation broke from the woman involuntarily.
+"After all these years--it may be that He changes.... How old is He,
+husband? Canst thou not even guess? ..."
+
+"Perhaps He is less old than He pretends, but He is many years older
+than folks believe Him. Of that there is no doubt at all...."
+
+"And it _is_ done by devilry? Witchcraft and spells--and philtres?"
+The woman breathed quickly. "Say, is't not?"
+
+"God knows! But from whomever the Presence buys his youth, He pays a
+heavy price for it. See how He lives! Even as one who carries in
+his breast a stolen jewel, and goes in fear lest it be snatched from
+him. The pleasures of the belly--He must shun them. The joys that
+are tasted on perfumed cushions--He must fly them one and all. It is
+tyranny. Yet He thinks He is envied. He is only wretched when Those
+I may not speak of, ask--too high a price for the magical drugs...."
+
+"The drugs. The devil-brews that keep Him youthful, who else would
+be as dry and wrinkled as the mummies of the ancient Kings?"
+
+"Verily. And--one thing I have seen of late--" Once launched upon
+the sea of Confidence, Nasr Ullah grew less fearful. "Whether
+Protection fails him, or the philtres lose their power, I know
+not--but--He grows old!"
+
+"I too!--" Her eyes grew large with awe. "I have fancied He is
+somewhat changed...."
+
+"_Chut_! Do not interrupt. It goes deeper than the skin--this
+change that I have seen in him. His moods vary like those of a
+pregnant woman; he frames designs and throws them aside as a monkey
+plucks, and bites, and casts bananas away. He does not even hate as
+He used to hate. Once--if an enemy rose up in the path, he removed
+that one with his own hand, and troubled no more about the affair.
+Or said to one he trusted, '_Kill!_'" the tone was studiously smooth,
+the speaker's face expressionless--"and that man or that woman
+died--more quietly than the _bowab's_ daughter who ate the nectarine.
+But now--since the killing of Usborn Sahib by a Turk in
+Palestine,--and the night he dined at Iskanderieh in the company of
+the big Jew Tomi--the Presence talks of nought but sprinkling
+poisoned grain for carrier-doves and dismissing of one-eyed
+females--and my heart is stricken with fear for my lord! Spells, and
+charms, and philtres bought from Those in the Distant Places will not
+avail forever against the day of Fate. Azrael will come behind my
+lord with a touch upon the shoulder. The Black Camel of Allah will
+tread upon his heel. Then--even at a breath--the House of Life will
+crumble!" Nasr Ullah started to his feet as a silvery sound,
+momentarily increasing in volume, rolled into the stuffy closed room,
+and hummed about their ears. "It is the gong from my lord's room.
+He calls, and I must go! ..."
+
+He added, slipping the earthen pot of soaked and poisoned barley
+within the bosom of his embroidered vest: "Sleep well, my wife, if I
+see thee not ere morning. And call in the children--it is time they
+went to rest! ..."
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+This was another moonless night, with Orion glorious in the East, and
+the Great Bear blazing on the northern horizon, as the headlights of
+the high-powered Daimler car, driven by the Italian chauffeur,
+flashed on a high, wide _porte cochère_ of white-painted wrought
+iron, and the horn sounded a well-known call.
+
+The massive gates were opened and shut by a hand-worked windlass,
+over which ran an endless chain. Two white-clad negro porters worked
+the winch, the gate slid smoothly back in its groovings. The car
+rolled in, and the gate was shut as it passed up the avenue.
+
+The Arabian-Turkish palace seemed to sleep under the starshine of the
+November night, wrapped in its royal mantle of roses and
+bougainvillea. Heavy drifts of perfume were carried on the languid
+air-waves that came from the south-west at intervals, swaying
+thick-foliaged branches and sighing amongst the leaves. Not a
+blue-white gleam of electric light or even the flame of a candle
+twinkled through the pierced lattices, as Katharine, alighting from
+the car, observed with some surprise.
+
+The wide-leaved doors of the house stood open. On the steps and in
+the vestibule were drawn up a double row of native servants; lean,
+dark Mohammedans in high starched turbans, _kaftans_ and baggy
+trousers of snowy muslin, displaying gorgeously gold-embroidered
+vests.
+
+One elderly man stepped forward, salaaming low to the visitor, with
+the words:
+
+"O lady, God give thee a happy night! His Presence awaits thee."
+
+"Carry thy lord salutations from me," Katharine answered in her
+laboured Arabic. "Say that--that I have come in answer to the
+message. Is the Saiyid Hazel here in the house?"
+
+The elderly man salaamed again and answered smoothly:
+
+"Surely, O lady, the desire of thine eyes and thine heart shall be
+granted! With your coming a blessing hath entered these doors...."
+
+The Italian chauffeur now appeared behind Katharine, carrying the
+suit-case. A servant stepped forward and took it, as Miss Forbis
+said to the chauffeur in French:
+
+"I don't yet know whether I shall need that case. Leave it in the
+car, please, and let the car be waiting. I may return to Alexandria
+to-night."
+
+"But, Mademoiselle!--" the Italian began, when a look from Nasr Ullah
+silenced him. He saluted, and muttering: "As Mademoiselle commands!"
+turned and went out and down the steps. But he left the suit-case in
+the servant's hands--and the hall-doors were shut and locked after
+him. And the fragrance of the jasmine and roses of the garden gave
+place to another perfume, heavy too, but sickly-sweet with sandal and
+henna, the fumes of burning pastilles, and all the strange suggestive
+odours of a shut-up Eastern house. And glancing at the now barred
+doors and the double row of gleaming eyes, and imperturbable dark
+faces, Katharine Forbis felt a little, chilly shudder creep over her
+and stir amongst the roots of her plentiful dark hair.
+
+"A goose walked over my grave, then," she told herself, smiling
+bravely, fighting back the sinister sensation, as the elderly
+major-domo addressed her again:
+
+"With permission, a message for the lady, from the Presence. The
+Presence took food, as is his wont, a little after sunset. It is now
+the fifth hour, and supper has been spread, Ifrangi-fashion, in
+readiness for the lady's coming. If the lady will deign to take of
+it, I pray her follow me...."
+
+"Thank you, but I need nothing," Katharine answered, as the man
+prepared to lead the way down an interminable-appearing hall.
+"And--I prefer to stay where I am." She moved to a carved ebony
+seat, and spoke to the man again, this time in English. "Please ask
+Essenian Pasha and Mr. Hazel to come to me here. Unless--" She
+started as the thought occurred to her, and ended: "Unless they
+should happen to be engaged with--some one who is ill...."
+
+"_Aiyân_...." The dark eyes under the much-ridged forehead were
+wonderfully observant. The nasal voice belonging to the eyes spoke
+in the English tongue: "Surely there is one here who is ill
+exceedingly. The Presence and the Saiyid Hazel have many fears for
+him," Nasr Ullah added as the colour ebbed from Katharine's cheeks
+and lips and her hand clenched involuntarily, "but by the Favour of
+Allah--he is not like to die...."
+
+"Take me to him.... Now, please! ..."
+
+Miss Forbis rose up, tall and impetuous, motioning to Nasr Ullah to
+lead the way, scattering her scruples and her fears to the winds like
+withered leaves. Which of her beloved Two lay in some darkened room
+of this strange house? Julian or Edward? Edward or Julian. Well,
+in another minute she would know....
+
+It occupied several minutes. The elderly Mohammedan produced an
+electric torch, and by its radiance led her through a vast suite of
+apartments on the ground-floor, their Arabesque Ottoman elegance
+grotesquely overlaid with fashions imported from the West. A curious
+jumble of furniture of many different styles and periods was revealed
+by the blue-white torch-flare--overcrowding the wide and lofty rooms.
+French Directoire and the First Empire shouldered the Georgian
+Regency, Early Victorian tables and Berlin wool-work settees were
+reflected in splendid Venetian mirrors, and electric bulbs depended
+from cut-glass chandeliers. Later Rococo--overlaid with Art Nouveau
+and camouflaged with Futurism; Cubist pictures, Cubist draperies and
+cushions of Cubist designs, gibbered mockingly in Katharine's face as
+the electric torch led the way.... And the stuffiness bred of
+Eastern neglect hung heavy on the atmosphere, and dust rose in
+wreaths from the velvety carpets under the lightest tread.
+
+The last door of the last suite led into a wide corridor paved with
+black and white marble. Midway down, the elderly servant stopped at
+the grille of a lift and switched on the electric light. He snapped
+off his torch, pushed back the sliding-door, followed Miss Forbis in,
+shut the grille and started the elevator--a costly thing in nickel
+and enamelled iron--conveying to Katharine the momentary impression
+that she was calling on a London friend in a Sloane Street or Mayfair
+flat.
+
+The lift stopped at the top floor after traversing three storeys.
+The Mohammedan showed Miss Forbis out, and opened a latticed door at
+the end of a short passage. She drew a breath of relief as the
+night-air flowed about her, and the rose-scents of the dew-drenched
+garden rose up in delicious clouds.
+
+She was passing over a slender bridge, connecting the roof of one of
+the wings of the Pasha's showy villa with that of another building,
+evidently much older, distant perhaps some forty feet from the ornate
+marble palace, and covering a considerable area of ground in its
+rear. Built in the old windowless Arabian way about an oblong
+courtyard, and crowned by an open court or pavilion of green and
+white marble, its outer walls were pressed upon by closely thronging
+trees. Casuarinas and moss-cup oaks, peppers and tamarisks and tall
+waving palms made coolth and greenness round it, and nightingales
+were singing from the trees that girt it round.
+
+The bridge, of latticed iron, painted to dazzling whiteness, ended
+under a pointed trefoil arch where heavy curtains hung. The
+Mohammedan servant who showed the way was beckoning to
+Katharine--lifting a gleaming, gold-embroidered fold, signing to her
+to pass. She drew in a deep breath of fragrance from the garden, and
+the song of the bulbuls rose in a crescendo of sweetness as she
+glanced at the starry sky. Then the dark hand signed to her--she
+passed under the archway, and the curtain fell behind her with a
+soft, thudding sound.
+
+She stood on the threshold of an oblong room, or rather, court, of
+pierced and latticed marble, covered and adorned with mosaic, running
+nearly the whole length of a side of the Arab house. Open to the sky
+overhead, and enclosed by curtains of thick gold-embroidered silk,
+hanging under trefoil arches between groups of slender pillars, it
+had a long divan of dark, rich brocade running along one side. Two
+silver lamps of antique design, swinging by chains from slender rods,
+mingled their mellow radiance with the starlight. At the farther
+end, closed curtains under a higher arch showed the entrance to
+another court--or possibly an enclosed apartment--beyond the pavilion
+that was canopied with the sky.
+
+The floor was of ancient Arab tiles, wonderful in colour. Rare and
+beautiful prayer-rugs were laid on it here and there. A pedestal of
+serpentine supported a great porcelain bowl in which a little
+fountain played, and goldfish were swimming. Clusters of lilies of
+Amaryllis type, thick-stemmed, fleshy, purple and white and crimson,
+exhaling a heavy, languorous fragrance, stood in jars of ancient
+_cloisonné_ upon inlaid ivory stools. In the centre of the room
+stood a broad divan, piled with great embroidered cushions. Beside
+the divan was a tripod of ebony, supporting something that looked
+like a green velvet jewel-case....
+
+A slight man in Eastern dress, his black _tarbûsh_ turbaned with
+snowy muslin folds, his long-sleeved _kaftan_ of orange-red opening
+to reveal a longer-sleeved garment of white, a jewelled pen-case
+glittering in the folds of his green silk girdle, rose up from the
+divan as the curtain fell--and advanced to Katharine....
+
+"Dear lady, my poor house is highly honoured--" he began:
+
+"Is Mr. Hazel here, Major Essenian?"
+
+In her surprise at finding the Pasha alone, Katharine's hurried query
+broke in upon the Pasha's formal welcome, scattering his elaborate
+sentences to the winds.
+
+"Mr. Hazel--" He affected for a moment to search his memory. "Dear
+lady, I am sorry, but--" His shrug said "No! ..."
+
+"Then why did your chauffeur bring me the letter from him?" Katharine
+demanded, looking down from her superb height upon the suave and
+smiling face.
+
+"From Mr. Hazel?" Essenian asked with maddening blandness. "Did he
+bring you a letter? ..."
+
+"You know he did! ..."
+
+"Ah yes, of course, I know!" admitted Essenian, his long eyes
+narrowing as they encountered Katharine's. She mastered her anger,
+knowing its display incautious, and said with rather a poor attempt
+to smile:
+
+"You must make allowances, Pasha, if I seem excited and nervy.
+But--I have been on tenterhooks since the day we met. The
+15th--and--isn't this the 18th of November? ..."
+
+"Certainly, going by your Western calendar. But in this house that
+lies hidden behind another that is full of barbarous Western
+inventions--Western customs do not prevail, and Western fashions are
+abhorred. You are in Egypt when you are here...."
+
+"The room is perfectly beautiful. But I can't spare time to enjoy
+it. I can think of nothing but the matter that brought me here
+to-night. Last night, rather"--Katherine glanced at her
+wrist-watch--"because it is getting perilously near one o'clock in
+the morning. Once for all, I ask you where you got the letter that
+your servant brought me at the Hospital, nearly five hours back? ..."
+
+"It was placed in my hands by Hazel, to be delivered in case of
+emergency."
+
+Katharine's clear eyes questioned the dark face. Its narrow eyes met
+hers, glittering imperturbably. She resumed, with a little sickening
+thrill of hatred of the man:
+
+"Then--the emergency has occurred? Be good enough to answer another
+question. Did you take Mr. Hazel to Shechem, as he told me you had
+arranged to do?"
+
+"Certainly. We made the trip in record time." The long beryl eyes
+shone green in the mingling of lamplight and starlight, the smooth
+dark lips curved as Essenian smiled. "Following the old Pilgrim's
+Route at first. Doing the journey--about 195 miles, as the crow
+flies--in something under three-and-a-half-hours, and reaching
+Shechem just before dawn."
+
+"And--when you got there--what went wrong? For something has gone
+wrong," Katharine said breathlessly--"I feel it in the air about me,
+though your face tells no tales."
+
+"'_The face that tells tales is a man's worst enemy. The face that
+hides secrets is a man's best friend._'" Essenian quoted the stale
+truism gently and suavely. "But will you not remove your outer wrap
+and take a seat on the divan?"
+
+He added, as Katharine unfastened a cloak she wore, an ample double
+cape of Navy blue serge, lined with dark crimson silk, and dropped it
+from her shoulders, and moving with her supple grace to the divan,
+sat down:
+
+"I returned here yesterday, arriving before sunrise. To remain in
+Palestine would have been useless. To be candid--"
+
+"Oh, my God!" said Katharine in her anguished soul. "Does this man
+ever speak candidly?" But she looked at him and waited--summoning up
+all her reserves of self-command and patience, seeming a calm-eyed,
+superbly-moulded goddess, attired in a well-cut uniform of white
+cotton-drill.
+
+"I had arranged to return to Shechem," he went on, "before sunrise on
+the 18th. There is still time to reach there while the day is yet
+young. But something unfortunate happened just before the landing.
+In fact, Mr. Hazel has had an accident--"
+
+"An accident. Of what nature? ..."
+
+Katharine's brows contracted and her colour faded. Essenian pursued
+in his suavest tones:
+
+"Let me explain. To repose a confidence in you, which I feel will
+not be misplaced." Would the man never get to the point? "I
+employed at Shechem, a device of my own invention--which has been
+approved at Headquarters by my Chief. By a simple mechanical
+appliance--merely a spring-switch and lock-clip--I can change the
+number and colour-plates on the main-planes and tail of my machine.
+You understand? The Red, White and Blue is replaced by the Red
+Crescent. Imagine the advantage to the aviator of a simple device
+like this!"
+
+"But the type of your machine. You can't change that!" Katharine
+spoke wearily.
+
+"I cannot, naturally. But our captured 'planes are generally brought
+into use. And--I do not remain sufficiently long over an enemy
+stronghold to give time--" the speaker shrugged and ended--"for
+exhaustive scrutiny. Let me be brief--"
+
+"I beg that you will! ..."
+
+He recognised in her voice an accent of entreaty. It was what he had
+waited for.
+
+"I dropped--in my strictly temporary role of Turkish aviator--a dummy
+despatch-bag into Shechem. Then I flew north, to a patch of level
+ground between Mount Ebal and Samata--where I had planned to drop my
+man. As I passed south of Mount Ebal, I saw"--he was telling the
+story plainly at last "there were enemy batteries upon it. Mountain
+Artillery of the Mustahfiz--machine-guns--a howitzer--the Mount had
+been converted into a fortress of defence! And, in my surprise at
+the discovery, I acted without due caution--or rather, I acted as I
+had arranged to act--without deviation from the first plan. I
+climbed, dived, and came down west of the Mountain--giving Hazel the
+agreed-on-word to jump, when I should touch the ground. But--as a
+result of the surprise, I suppose--I gave it prematurely--"
+
+"And Mr. Hazel jumped--before you touched the ground!" Her voice was
+very stern and deep. Her wide gaze held him. "Answer my question
+plainly. Has he been killed? ..."
+
+"No. But he has sustained some hurt. I do not know its nature. My
+military duty forbade me to remain."
+
+"I--understand. You flew away, leaving your passenger in
+difficulties! ..."
+
+The deadly contempt of the tone bit like frost at 15,000 feet, the
+splendid wrath of her cairngorm eyes told him that he, Essenian, was
+a creature infinitely mean....
+
+"I flew away. As you remark." The glittering eyes met hers at last,
+and the lips smiled cruelly.... "What would you have?" He folded
+his slender, dark hands within the shelter of his sleeves. "Can men
+fight against Destiny?"
+
+"Men can fight against the temptation to do base things, and
+sometimes fight and conquer. And now--" Anger and grief were in her
+tone, "what will become of him? ..."
+
+"Of your friend? ..." He stood imperturbably facing her, his dark
+hands hidden in the sleeves of his orange-crimson _kaftan_, and the
+delicate mingling of golden lamplight and silvery starlight threw his
+shadow over the rich, pale carpets, and the exquisite Arabesque
+mosaics, of green and blue, and amber, that covered with their
+tracery the exposed spaces of the floor. "How can I say what has or
+will become of him! ... If you choose, it is for you to tell me...."
+
+An almost insupportable sense of the speaker's insincerity went
+through Katharine's being like flame, and the agony of suspense long
+drawn-out, spurred her--as Essenian had calculated it would--to
+reckless utterance....
+
+"How can I tell you? You play with me, Major Essenian, knowing as
+you must, that if I could find out what has happened to my--to my
+friend and my brother I would do so at any sacrifice! ..."
+
+"Then," said the Egyptian, gently and mellifluously, "place yourself
+before the case that is on that tripod, open the case and look in the
+spherical beryl it contains. I will not touch it lest you should
+suspect me of some trickery. Indeed, I will remain at a distance
+while you look.... All I ask is--that you will tell me truthfully
+what you see--if Sight be vouchsafed to you! Judging by what I have
+witnessed I believe you will be favoured. No sacrifice is needed....
+You have only to look! ..."
+
+He lowered his voice almost to a whisper, yet every word came to
+Katharine's hearing with a distinctness that oppressed.
+
+"After our meeting in Mr. Hazel's house at Alexandria, where I had
+witnessed such a striking manifestation of his clairvoyant powers, he
+dined with me at my Club, and after dinner--in my eagerness to pursue
+further the investigations that absorb me--I persuaded Hazel to look
+in the beryl that case contains. He passed with ease into the
+condition inseparable from Vision--but to my questions I received no
+satisfactory replies. Now that you are here," the voice was hurried,
+"the hour and the conditions alike being favourable, stretch out your
+hand, open the case and--look in the crystal ball!"
+
+"Do you really think that I should see--things? Find out what is
+happening to--friends at Shechem?"
+
+Essenian's orange-red draperies rustled as he moved nearer, saying:
+
+"I do not 'think.' ... I know that you would! ..."
+
+Holding his breath, he saw her white figure shift its position on the
+divan. Now her white hands hovered like wistful doves about the
+velvet case on the tripod--now the moony brightness of the great
+spherical beryl shone forth as though some lesser star of the
+innumerable hosts of heaven had fallen upon the tripod in the Arabian
+room.... Now he heard her say--speaking to herself rather than to
+him--with a fluttered laugh of nervousness:
+
+"You know, I won't have anything to do with this if it's dabbling in
+magic. But--just to look in the beryl can't be much harm...."
+
+"No, no! What harm could there be? But wonderful things are
+seen--sometimes--by gifted people. And you--I would stake half that
+I own on the certainty that you have the gift! ..."
+
+He moved softly here and there in the background as Katharine,
+absorbed, bent over the beryl. Now he loosened a silken cord, and
+shades descended, covering the silver lamps. He moved his dark,
+supple hands among little brazen vases of Benares-work ranged upon a
+stand resembling a Hindu altar, and a slender column of incense,
+heavy and fragrant, rose up and climbed, spiralling and twisting,
+towards the great stars that looked down from Heaven's violet dome.
+Presently he heard Katharine whisper to herself as a woman speaks in
+dreaming:
+
+"The Church forbids dabbling in spiritism and magic. But just--once
+to look--can't be so very wrong! ..."
+
+And now Essenian spoke, seizing the appropriate moment, almost as he
+had spoken to Hazel at the Club:
+
+"Wrong.... How should it be wrong? Do not touch the beryl--that is
+imperative. Neither bend so close above it that your breathing dims
+its light. Sit comfortably, rest your hands lightly on either side
+of the tripod. You are not afraid? Why should you be? There is
+absolutely no reason.... Only look steadily in the beryl, do not
+remove your eyes...."
+
+If Katharine had seen Essenian's, as they narrowly observed her, she
+might have recalled a speech of Lady Wastwood's, made a few days
+previously. For they indubitably resembled the eyes of a cobra, and
+his soft noiseless movements were horribly tigerish. But she knew
+nothing but the cold, gleaming sphere upon its little cup-shaped
+metal pedestal--and the smooth twists and coiling folds, suggesting
+veil upon veil of mystery--that were beginning to reveal themselves
+beneath the pale-green, shining surface that at first had seemed
+opaque. There was a singing in her ears, and she heard her heart
+throbbing, but as though it were the heart of some one else beating a
+long way off. Edward's? ... Julian's? ... Neither of these, she
+thought.... The heart that called so far away was John Hazel's....
+What was he doing? Where was he? What had happened to him?
+Summoning all her strength, she willed herself to see....
+
+
+"Oh, oh! Take it away! ... Hide it from me! ..."
+
+Katharine was moaning, and begging not to see. And the Egyptian,
+ashen of hue, dabbled with sweat, vibrating like a wind-blown
+reed--was bending towards her, greedily drinking in the disconnected
+utterances that broke from her--when she sighed deeply, lifted her
+head, and fixed her eyes on him.
+
+"Go on! Go on! Look back to the beryl!" He lifted his slender
+clenched hand as though he would have struck her. "Do you want to
+ruin all? Why do you stop? ..."
+
+"Because it makes my eyes and my head ache so...." She opened and
+shut her eyes once or twice, and rubbed her forehead with her
+handkerchief. "And because what I saw was horrible--that was why I
+stopped!"
+
+"What did you see? ..."
+
+"The inside of a wooden hut. Dirty and sordid--with no furniture in
+it except a native bed. All seen as by daylight, through
+high-powered binoculars. And--on the bed--chained to it--" She
+shuddered--"Something shapeless--something bloody--something
+terrible--that once may have been a man--"
+
+"Was it your brother?"
+
+"No, thank--"
+
+"Hush! ..." He stopped her with an imperative gesture. "How do you
+know that it was not Father Forbis? ..."
+
+"Because Julian is very fair, with reddish hair and beard. The monks
+of his Order wear the beard like the Franciscans."
+
+"Was it John Hazel? Answer! ..."
+
+"I dare not say! ..."
+
+"You know it was!" He almost spat the words at her.
+
+"Perhaps. Oh! what have they done to him? ..." Katharine's nerves
+were thrilling--little intermittent shudders passed over her, cold
+damps stood upon her skin, and her heart shook her as she sat. She
+fought for composure, steadying her lips, drying her dewy temples
+with her handkerchief, "I have seen things in War," she panted, "but
+nothing worse than that! Pray order the car!--I must go back to
+Alexandria." She repeated, thinking he did not hear her. "Have the
+kindness to order the car! ..."
+
+He had moved round in front of her, and stood regarding her with his
+arms crossed upon his breast. Now he said in his velvet tones: "Not
+until you have looked again in the beryl, Miss Forbis. And for
+me--for me, this time!"
+
+"You threaten to detain me here against my will? I should not advise
+your trying it!" She rose up, dwarfing him by her superb stature,
+adding as she lifted her mantle from the divan: "You do not suppose
+that my friends at Montana are ignorant of my whereabouts? Besides,
+your car was challenged at all the guarded barriers, and more than
+once stopped upon the road here by patrols of Military Police. The
+chauffeur supplied your number and name, and I naturally took care to
+give my own, 'Sergeant-Motor-driver, K. Forbis, Number 61, --th Unit,
+V.A. Department, Red Cross....' This is the Twentieth Century, Major
+Essenian...."
+
+"I threaten nothing. I suggest nothing," the supple hands were
+extended towards her, palms uppermost, "I have no designs against
+your honour. I am of those who see the grinning skull behind the
+Face of Loveliness and the asp that conceals itself beneath the
+blossom of the rose." He spoke rapidly, illustrating his sentences
+with swift, expressive gestures: "I merely entreat of you, at this
+juncture in my fortunes--a man beset with dangers from sources all
+unknown!--look in the beryl! Ask of me what you choose--I am wealthy
+enough to give it you!--but first look in the beryl, and will to see
+my Fate."
+
+"Very well." The womanliness inherent in Katharine stirred her, in
+spite of her dislike, to pity the desperate anxiety patent in the
+Egyptian's twitching face, and nervous, appealing hands. "But your
+attempt at coercion was as misplaced as your suggestion of bribery.
+You will not repeat either, if you are wise. Since you entreat it, I
+consent to look once more in the beryl. But first--order the car...."
+
+"I am your slave, and all I possess is at your service!" He took a
+silver rod from a stand, and struck a small gong. It had a wonderful
+resonance, and the sonorous note evoked, spread in waves increasing
+in volume, until, the limit of its power reached, the sound ebbed
+away.
+
+"That was to summon the car. Now, look--" Essenian threw fresh
+incense on the burning embers in the censer on the altar, muttering
+an invocation in his own tongue: "O ye Influences, be propitious! O
+Tarshun, O Taryushun! Come down! Come down! Remove the veil from
+the woman's sight. Show her my Fate in the Eye of Radiance. Hear, O
+Arhmân! Great Prince--thy servant calls! ..."
+
+Bending over the beryl, resting her hands on the tripod, turning a
+deaf ear to the inward voice that warned her not to look, Katharine
+saw in the body of the stone, framed in silky, shining skeins of
+semi-opaque lustre, a little oval vignette of her own face, crowned
+by the slouched felt uniform hat, with its badge and ribbon banding,
+backed by the purple splendour of the jewelled Eastern sky. She put
+up a hand and removed her hat, and tossed it aside carelessly,
+without removing her gaze from the sinister, gleaming sphere....
+Then the pale face with the intent eyes faded from vision, a wider
+space began to clear between the silky folds....
+
+"Essenian Pasha--I will to see the Fate of Essenian!" she repeated
+mentally, concentrating her powers. The will to see became intense.
+She forgot her loathing of the man, muttering incoherent things,
+shivering with suspense behind her: "I will to see! ... I will to
+see!" she told herself over and over. And Seeing came as Katharine
+framed the words, with dazzling, illuminating clearness. As
+previously, she might have been looking through high-powered
+binoculars.
+
+She saw a whitewashed brick courtyard, clean and bare and sanded, in
+early daylight, with blank brick walls on three sides, and plain
+brick buildings on the fourth side, where two sentries with fixed
+bayonets guarded a door. Drawn up in the courtyard in two lines, a
+company of R.F.C. officers, N.C.O.'s and men, stood at attention.
+The door opened, the sentries presented arms, and a Sergeant-Major
+and party of Military Police, with fixed bayonets, led by an officer
+wearing a Staff brassard, and followed by four other Police, carrying
+a plain, wooden coffin--marched into the courtyard, escorting a
+prisoner.
+
+The prisoner was Essenian--in khaki as she had first seen him--save
+that his multi-coloured rows of ribbons, and the badges on his
+uniform, had been ruthlessly slashed away. The man himself was
+altered, shrunken, aged beyond believing. His grey face with its
+glittering eyes staring from caves that had been dug about them,
+lifted as the Sergeant-Major touched his shoulder--took off his cork
+helmet--bandaged his eyes carefully--opened his khaki tunic and hung
+a white-painted metal disc immediately above his heart....
+
+Now they were putting down the coffin before a blank wall. Now the
+little shrunken figure stood against the wall in tragic solitude--the
+Sergeant-Major was placing seven men in line confronting it, taking
+their rifles from them, and showing them, one at a time to the
+officer with the Staff brassard....
+
+"_Ready...! Present....!_"
+
+The rifles had been given back, and seven muzzles steadily pointed at
+the white disc hanging on the doomed man's breast. In another
+second--sharp stabs of greenish flame leaped beyond the shining
+bayonets, light puffs of brownish smoke rose against the dazzling
+blue sky seen above the wall....
+
+The shrunken body lay huddled up, in an odd unnatural attitude, in a
+dark red puddle that soaked away in the sand. The officer with the
+Staff brassard approached it, drawing his revolver.... He stooped
+down, straightened himself, glanced back at the Sergeant, and
+slipping the revolver back into its holster, gave an order, wheeled
+sharply and walked away. And as he did this the whole scene blurred
+and vanished. With a slight, sharp sound like the snapping of a
+crystal rod, a jagged fracture showed down the middle of the Eye of
+Radiance. The Beryl had become opaque as a lump of volcanic glass.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+"What have you seen? ..." A fierce breath beat on Katharine's cheek,
+and a steel-strong grip was on her arm, as Essenian's swift whisper
+assailed her ear: "Deny not that you saw!--the stone splits--that is
+enough!--it means the end for me! I am deceived--" the shrill voice
+cracked despairingly--"I to whom They promised Life--Life prolonged
+beyond the age of elephants--Youth that should keep its freshness
+like the flower in the block of ice. Speak, woman, say what you have
+seen, or by Eblis! I will make you! I am strong yet, and if
+Azrael's hand be at my throat, you shall feel mine at yours!"
+
+Even as he leaped, Katharine swung out a long arm, striking him
+across the body, breaking the force of his leap, as she remembered to
+have once done when a savage cat, crossed with the wild breed, had
+crept up behind, unnoticed, and sprung upon her to bite.
+
+"You native cad!" rang her clear disdainful voice. "Are you out for
+murder?"
+
+"I am out to make you tell me--" Breathing unevenly, he stood back
+from the divan, his supple body tense for a second spring, his
+glittering eyes watching her: "What have you seen in the beryl?
+Answer!--it is my right to hear!"
+
+"But not your right to lay hands upon an Englishwoman," Katharine
+retorted, tingling with insulted pride. "Do not attempt it again,
+because I carry a revolver, and like most women who have served in
+this War, I have learned to use it well!"
+
+Brave words, yet her head was swimming as she spoke, and her heart
+throbbed suffocatingly, and the hand that gripped the butt of the
+little Colt's revolver, shook with the rigor of fear. The strange
+and terrible experiences of the night--horror of Essenian's vicinity
+and touch, the strain of long anxiety and protracted fasting--were
+beginning to tell upon Katharine. She despised women who fainted at
+dreadful sights or in perilous situations, and yet--she realised
+herself not far from fainting now....
+
+Air--she was famishing for want of air! though the room was open to
+the stars and the night-winds--though the curtains behind that
+tigerish orange-red figure were bellying and parting, blown inwards
+under their pointed triple arches by a gale she could not feel. She
+could see the branches of the thronging trees--the lateral limb of a
+towering moss-cup oak swaying strangely under the weight of a
+climbing brown figure. She caught the flash of eyes and teeth in a
+shadowy face topped by a white sun-helmet--and ran towards the
+archway as a man leaped into the room....
+
+Others followed, dropping from the great elbowed tree-limb to the
+wall, and jumping through the archway.... Men in the well-known
+khaki drill, with sun-browned or pale European faces under their
+sun-helmets--and the red brassard of the Military Police....
+
+"Sorry, but I have to arrest you, Major Essenian, in the name of the
+King...."
+
+A young Lieutenant of M.P. with a tooth-brush moustache of undeniable
+ginger was pressing a folded paper on Essenian and mopping his own
+dripping face....
+
+"Warm work, shinning up trees in this muggy Egyptian climate. But I
+fancy we've dropped in just at the right time... Certainly for the
+lady. Sergeant Whitmore, look to the lady. Handcuff the prisoner,
+Corporal Rose. And, Major, remember that anything you say will be
+used against you in evidence."
+
+"There will be--there will be a formal Court Martial?" He raised his
+face, the grey face, pinched and sweat-dabbled, that Katharine had
+seen in the vision of the Stone: "I demand it!--I demand it!
+Whatever the charges on this warrant which I have not read,
+remember!--I can disprove them--I can confute them--establish my
+honour in the face of the world."
+
+"You'll be lucky if you do! No, you can't change into uniform. One
+of your servants can pack a kit-case, and leave it for you at the
+Military Clink. That's your address--while you require one. Hit
+that tin gong, will you, Corporal? It'll fetch some of these Gyppo
+fellows to show the way to the hall-door."
+
+"I can guide you, Mr. Martyn!"
+
+"Holy Smoke, it's Miss Forbis from Montana! How in the wide-- I beg
+your pardon!"
+
+The Lieutenant--not so long ago a convalescent patient at the
+Hospital, broke off the end of the question, reddening, but Katharine
+answered with her broad, sweet smile, looking in the boyish face with
+candid cairngorm eyes:
+
+"How in the wide did I come here? Well, I'll tell you strictly in
+confidence--in return for a lift back to Alexandria. Can do? ..."
+
+"Can do! Off duty--as soon as I've delivered the goods at the M.P."
+His glance at the goods was highly expressive: "_'Hê intē!
+Ya rajîl!_" This to an elderly Mohammedan servant with a much-ridged
+forehead of anxiety--Nasr Ullah, summoned in haste to the Pavilion by
+an alien stroke upon the Presence's gong. "Oh, you! Show us the way
+downstairs!"
+
+"I will go, I will go! Do not handle me roughly.... Remember that I
+am an old--a very old man! Miss Forbis, I knew your father once!
+Speak for me! Use your influence! Remember," the quavering voice
+broke in a fit of senile coughing, the manacled hands extended to
+Katharine in supplication, looked like those of a mummy, so
+discoloured and shrunken were they: "You do not answer? You triumph
+in my downfall?" The narrow eyes glimmered hatred out of their
+deep-dug caves. "Do not forget your brother, and your friend, Mr.
+Hazel--whose fate is practically in my hands!"
+
+"Their fate is in the Hands of God," Katharine answered gently,
+moving beyond the reach of the withered, trembling clutch. "Like
+yours and mine, and that of every other creature. Good-bye, Major
+Essenian...."
+
+He made no reply. He was muttering to himself, and looked, indeed,
+an old man. His head fell on his breast as the word to move was
+given--and the party of policemen, with the orange-robed figure
+tottering in their midst--tramped over the white bridge in the
+bluish-pale light of the small hours, and followed by Katharine and
+the Lieutenant, went down through the airless house....
+
+
+When the tail-light of the last of the string of the four Military
+Police cars had winked past the turn in the avenue, and the _porte
+cochère_ was closed, Nasr Ullah went back to his "house" and found
+her waking. She hastened out of the inner apartment and ran to him
+in alarm.
+
+"Oh, my eyes! Oh, my husband! _Alhamdolillah_ thou hast returned to
+us! Little sleep have we had this night. Strange scrapings at the
+back of the house, and whistles as of Afrits talking.... The
+children woke and wept, and I scarce had wits to lie to
+them--thinking the Servants of Eblis were carrying the Presence away!
+..."
+
+"The Presence hath gone, sure enough, but Inglizi soldiers took him.
+Always I have known," said Nasr Ullah, "that some day the soldiers
+would come. They followed the woman secretly, climbing the trees
+like monkeys, and leaped in upon the Presence when she cried out....
+Perhaps she was a spy--God knows! ..."
+
+"Praise be to Him the soldiers took thee not also! Tell me--in this
+matter of the pigeons.... Didst thou--"
+
+Nasr Ullah shook his head:
+
+"My heart was straitened when I left thee,--but Allah enlightening
+me--I dealt wisely. For at the compound of the Commandant--at the
+Headquarters of Intelligence and at Garrison Headquarters--one grain
+of barley threw I at each place,--and picked it up again! Then,
+burying the pot and the grain in a place where none will find them--I
+returned at the fourth hour, and said to the Presence--'Lo! I have
+done thy bidding, in the casting of poisoned barley.' And in this I
+spake the very truth, yet Nûh's birds are safe for me!"
+
+"It is well. The Compassionate shielded thee. Think you, my
+husband, the Presence will return?"
+
+"I think not, but if he does, he will not find Nasr Ullah. The Eye
+of Radiance is broken, so even did he look in it he could not find
+me. The Englishmen have opened his _maktabs_ and taken all his
+papers. Come, let us take the children, and thy jewels, and our
+money and the best of the clothing and go away from here!"
+
+"When the fleas leave the cat, he is dead!" said Fatimeh acutely.
+
+"No flea am I!" denied Nasr Ullah stoutly. "Forty-two years have I
+served The Presence, and by Allah! I have served him well and
+faithfully. Now, I shall serve Allah, Who is the better Master, and
+my sons shall grow up without knowledge of ink-pools and wizardry...."
+
+"And the bag that is buried under the bed hath enough in it to buy
+thee a homestead. Verily the Beneficent hath hearkened to my
+prayers. Go we by day, or now?"
+
+"Now. Make haste and dress the children--hide thy jewels about
+thee." He looked round for something to dig with, and picked up a
+big brass ladle. "Strange, how a man may feel like a thief in
+digging up his own hoard!"
+
+
+"Will there--is there likely to be a Court Martial?" Katharine asked
+the Lieutenant, as some hours later, a Police Ford Car, diverted from
+official use for the purposes of chivalry, ran between green fields
+of fodder on the road by the Canal, and the Lieutenant--having fed
+his charge with sandwiches of cold chicken, hard eggs, ripe figs and
+bananas, and hot coffee out of a thermos--was pressing Turkish
+cigarettes on her and offering a light.
+
+"Something in the nature of one, possibly. But precious short, and
+to the point. I'm not broaching official secrets!--but the evidence
+is solid. We've had quite a cloud of witnesses to prove that the
+Pasha has been playing the kind of trick with the British Government
+that he tried to play on you. There were two of our Secret
+Intelligence men, in Shechem, one of 'em a prisoner in the Barracks
+and the other in disguise. And he was twice seen by these chaps to
+shed despatches into the town-square...."
+
+"But weren't the despatches dummies?" Katharine asked.
+
+"That was the tale he fed 'em with at H.Q., but it won't wash!"--the
+owner of the ginger toothbrush shook his head: "We've got hold of the
+last lot and they're genuine enough. Seditious propaganda--from
+centres in the Far East--that's the sort of stuff he's been dropping
+in Palestine.... What's more--it has just come out that he murdered
+his observer--the S.I. man who was shut up with the other War
+Prisoners in the Barracks saw the thing done--in mid-air over
+Shechem--just as he'd focussed his binnics on Essenian's machine.
+'The Two-Faced Nightingale,' the War Prisoners used to call
+her--because of her transferable number and colour-plates--a clever
+invention of the Pasha's, you see...."
+
+"But I thought they'd approved of the invention at Headquarters? ..."
+
+Said the Lieutenant, with a shrewdness that went curiously with his
+youthful face:
+
+"Oh, right enough, the Brass Hats approved of the invention! But
+they didn't approve of its being approved of," he twinkled at the
+alliteration--"by the fellows on the other side. The man's a dud!
+And he's jolly well earned what's he's going"--he looked at his
+wrist-watch--"what he's bound to get--half-an-hour after morning gun."
+
+"_Boom!_"
+
+Even as the Lieutenant spoke, the radiant air vibrated, and flocks of
+swallows, newly arrived, scared by the detonation, rose and wheeled
+shrieking over the Fortress of Alexander's Town....
+
+
+The Hospital was already astir as Katharine passed in. She did not
+go at once to the sleeping-tent she shared with Lady Wastwood, but
+passed the white rows of canvas dwellings, and turned into the dewy,
+deserted gardens, where odours of Eden breathed from the newly opened
+roses, and all the thrushes and blackbirds and bulbuls were singing
+in chorus to greet the birth of another day.
+
+Her glance sought the table where she had left the card and the
+letter. They were not there. Lady Wastwood must have taken them.
+One could always count on Trixie for such kind, considerate acts.
+
+She threw down her hat and the serge uniform-cape on the table and
+stepped out upon the terrace to drink in the sweet coolness, resting
+her hands on the balustrade as she looked out over the gardens, and
+the Khedive's boasted tennis-lawns of rafia--beyond the belt of
+palms, evergreen oaks, tamarisks and stone pines and rustling
+casuarinas, that clothe the slopes of Montana, to the changing blues
+and beryls of the classic Western Sea.
+
+Among the cistus-blossoms at her feet, the early bees were humming;
+orioles were busy weaving their nest in the overhead vine. A light
+step sounded on the mosaic floor behind her. Trixie had come out to
+look for her. No--not Trixie! A sudden shock passed through her.
+Her heart leaped and seemed to stop, then went on beating furiously.
+She felt, without knowledge, that Edward Yaill was near....
+
+Waves of carnation swamped her creamy fairness. Great waves of joy
+surged in her heart. She held her breath and looked down at the
+white hands folded before her on the creamy stone of the balcony....
+
+The hand that lay uppermost wore the ancient gem of Hercules. Now a
+breath fanned upon her neck, the subtle scents of the Desert
+surrounded and enveloped her, an arm in a khaki sleeve gently stole
+round her, and a familiar hand covered the onyx ring.... Yaill's
+hand. Beautiful and strong, masculine and soldierly even in its
+slimness, scorched to the colour of lion-hide by savage Asian suns.
+
+"O! Edward.... O my man of men! God gives you back to me! ...."
+
+"Sweetheart! Dear woman! I had not hoped for this! ..."
+
+Wonderful, unexpected boon. Heaven's manna to the starving. His
+Katharine's heart upon his own, her lips as freely yielded as though
+the hateful barrier had never risen between.... Soon he would wake,
+Yaill told himself--to aching desolation. But for a little he would
+take what Katharine granted him.
+
+"Julian? ..." She started in his arms.
+
+"Julian is safe, my sweetheart, but not yet fit to travel. I left
+him in the best of care, at G.H.Q. at Lydd. The General got me a
+passage down by one of their coasting sea-planes. A Sopwith from the
+'Raquin'--and she did it in splendid time, too! Another kiss! ...
+For a fellow who has lived on memories of kisses--since that day we
+parted at Kerr's Arbour, Katharine! How your letter brought the
+whole thing back, when it came to me at the Khan at Shechem...."
+
+"By John Hazel? ..."
+
+"A woman brought it, certainly--but Hazel sent it me...."
+
+"Dear Edward, where is he? You do not answer! ..." She drew away
+from Yaill, looking in his troubled face. "Where is John Hazel? ..."
+
+"I would give much to tell you! ..."
+
+"You mean that he is dead? ..."
+
+"Frankly, we fear the worst. When we escaped from Shechem, Hazel was
+lame through an accident. He would not hamper us--he stayed behind
+to keep the road. The road to Kir Saba.... It runs through a defile
+among the mountains--just where a Turkish ammunition-lorry had broken
+down...."
+
+"Go on! ..."
+
+"For long after we had passed we heard bombs bursting. There seemed
+to be any amount of fighting going on at that point on the road.
+Then there was an explosion--the lorry had blown up sky-high. We
+learned that the day after, when a British scouting-'plane came back
+from reconnaissance in the neighbourhood. There were--human _débris_
+upon the road--and several dead horses. If Hazel is dead--and I fear
+he is--he died as a man should die...."
+
+"But if he is not dead?" Her great eyes held his: "If he were
+imprisoned in--a wooden hut, chained down upon a native bed--"
+
+"What do you mean?" Yaill started. "Have you dreamed you saw him
+so? There was a wooden hut in the War Prisoners' Wired Enclosure at
+Shechem. Julian was there when we found him--chained as you
+describe!"
+
+"It was not Julian whom I saw--somewhere between midnight and two
+o'clock this morning--but John Hazel...." She shuddered, "John
+Hazel, so brutally ill-used--so frightfully disfigured, that the
+thing chained to the _anghareb_ was like anything but a man.... Yet
+I knew him. You cannot mistake his eyes, once you have seen them.
+He is alive--and a prisoner. O Edward, it was no dream!--I tell you
+that I saw!--"
+
+"Since you feel like that," Yaill caught fire at the flame of her
+intense conviction, "I'll go back--in another skin--and fine-comb the
+Front for him."
+
+"Dear, dear Edward! That would be great of you!"
+
+"Not it. I am the man's debtor. He brought me word of you at
+Sheria, and afterwards at Shechem. Shall I ever forget the thrill it
+gave--the sight of that envelope with your handwriting!"
+
+"Ah, but there were two letters...." Remembrance flooded her.
+"Didn't you read the other? I don't believe you have!"
+
+"Frankly, there was no time. But I have it here upon me."
+
+He felt in a baggy side-pocket of his khaki Service jacket, pulled
+out a crumpled buff envelope, and held it out to her.
+
+"Read it now, Edward! O Edward, read it! ..."
+
+He looked at her whimsically, and opened Nurse Pidge's letter. When
+he began to read, Katharine was standing. When he looked round, she
+was seated in a chair. He crossed the floor and knelt by her, and
+her yearning arms went out to him, and drew him home from exile, to
+the shelter of her breast.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+Towards dawn, following the bomb-fight on the Jaffa Road, those
+masses of sulphurous cumulo-nimbus, piled over the Hills of Gilead,
+move without the push of a wind behind towards the damp rain-clouds
+rolling inland from the Mediterranean, and there is a great
+thunderstorm over Shechem. Forked lightning strikes and splits the
+rocks, the echoes of Nebo and Gerizim bellow in answer to the
+rattling volleys of cloud-artillery. Wadis and passes became foaming
+cataracts, field-bivouacs are flooded--men and guns are bogged in the
+foot-deep mud of the hill-roads--and supply-columns of British A.S.C.
+hopelessly held up in the vast cotton-soil morass that was yesterday
+the Maritime Plain.
+
+By noon of the next day the sun regains sway, and the smells of
+Shechem their wonted potency. Save for one Turkish sentry at the
+gate, the guard has been removed from the Wired Enclosure. In its
+littered desolation an offence to the eye--in its neglected filth an
+outrage to the adjacent organ, it lies and steams and festers under
+the baking rays; and all the winged legions of Baal Zebub seem there
+to be holding revel--especially in the neighbourhood of the wooden
+hut.
+
+A couple of hours after noon the Enclosure is visited by the Bey.
+The _posta_ at the gate stiffens to the salute as Hamid passes in
+with the gauze-spectacled Medical Officer and his bilious-looking
+secretary, his nondescript Greek interpreter, and his usual following
+of big-bearded, red-fezzed _zabtiehs_, armed with German Service
+revolvers, and repeating Winchesters.
+
+The fog of flies about the wooden hut thins a little as the visitors
+approach its entrance. The heavy door--broken now--stands as wide as
+though no prisoner were within worth keeping. The odour of
+corruption fills the place. The Bey spits, the Turkish Medical
+Officer in the black gauze spectacles furtively sucks a formamint
+lozenge, and conveys one to the interpreter--the Secretary holds his
+nose....
+
+The wooden bed has been dragged aside from the patch of ground it
+covered, where shows the mouth of the tunnel, which has been hastily
+filled up with brickbats, sand, and gravel. Flies rise in a roaring
+cloud from the bedstead as the visitors enter, and the Bey, with a
+pale twinkle in his oblique sandy eyes--the inevitable cigarette
+poised between his thick gloved fingers--perpetrates one of his
+inimitable jests:
+
+"Come, see a greedy dog we have in here--a Yahudi of the Yahud, who
+has eaten stick till his belly burst, and now can eat no more! ..."
+
+At which display of wit the fat, goggled surgeon squirms with
+laughter, the secretary and the interpreter, faint with mirth, retire
+to the threshold, and even the flies buzz as though they too
+appreciated the jest....
+
+The Thing that lies upon the bed looks as though it, too, joined in
+the merriment, for its teeth are set, and the swollen lips drawn
+back--the Medical Officer learnedly explains--in the rigor of the
+early stages of tetanus, so that it grins from ear to ear. A
+mountainous bulk of bloody flesh, clothed in a garment of feasting
+flies, and bound about with an iron chain that is padlocked under the
+_anghareb_--he is no more than the caricature of what was once a man.
+
+A man who has suffered the extremest punishment of the _falagy_. Who
+has been beaten by the lithe green rods on the feet and legs, on the
+belly and breast, on the loins and thighs and face.... Beaten to
+kill by relays of men, skilled in the use of the _asayisi_, and yet,
+for a wonder, is not dead....
+
+Labouring breaths issue from the bloated lips, and puff from the
+split nostrils. In the glazed eyes staring from their bleeding
+orbits, black fire smoulders still.... He is even capable of a
+croaking sound, which he reiterates at intervals, with his bleeding
+eyes begging at the faces of those beside his bed....
+
+"_So' ûk sû! ... So' ûk sû! ..._"
+
+All the Turkish the sufferer knows: "Cold Water!--cold water! ..."
+
+"O Jew! you will get no cold water between here and Hell. But
+stick--plenty more stick, if you are noisy." Thus the Bey,
+illustrating the humour of the words with eloquent pantomime.
+
+"Do not beat me any more!" the wretched being on the bed stutters in
+broken Arabic: "Do not call the soldiers--beg the Bey to be
+merciful!" Bright red blood jets between the clenched teeth--his
+cracked tongue being moistened with this, his utterance becomes
+clearer: "Tell Hamid Bey if he will let me go, I can pay--I can pay
+him well! ..."
+
+"Thou canst pay? That is speaking Osmanli sense." A flat pasty face
+with oblique, pale, lashless eyes, and sandy eyebrows, replaces the
+spectacled surgeon's. "How canst thou pay?"
+
+"By--telling--but I will tell no one but the Bey--where the money has
+been hidden away! ..."
+
+"Hidden money--and where!" Sharp greed wakens in the pale eyes.
+They dig in the smouldering black ones as if treasure lay behind
+them: "I who speak am Hamid Bey. Now, Jew--out with it!--where is
+the money?"
+
+"I will tell--I will tell, but only to the Bey," moans the voice
+between the clenched teeth. "Send away thy people.... Fasten the
+door lest they creep back and overhear. There was a whole bag of
+English gold! I brought it to buy the freedom of the Nazrâni
+priest--and coveting the money, buried it--where I will tell thee...."
+
+"_Peki_! Very good,--all right!" The Bey turns upon his men, and
+dismisses them with an injunction to keep well out of earshot, then
+kicks-to the broken door and returns to the side of the _anghareb_.
+
+The fear of desire thwarted grips him now, for the face is contorted
+in a ghastly grin, and the black eyes are rolling in their bloody
+sockets. He stoops over and shouts in the bloated ear, "Wake, dog!
+Tell now--or I call back the soldiers. Tell of the hidden gold! ..."
+
+"I will tell! ..." The mountainous body heaves, the flayed muscles
+stand out on the huge arms like thick blue cordage.... "Stoop lower!
+Bend thine ear close! I buried--I buried it--"
+
+"Where? ..." The thick yellow-pale ear approaches the grinning
+teeth. "Where didst thou bury it? _Ai--y!_ ..."
+
+The beginning of a shriek of pain is choked in the Turk's fat throat,
+even as the big, white teeth sink into a bulging fold of it--between
+the ear and the collar. Their owner growls as a savage dog might
+do--and with an effort that rends the tattered flesh, drags an arm
+from under the chain that binds him down--and with a second wrench,
+releases the other....
+
+Now both big hands are gripped round the Bey's throat, and his pale
+eyes bulge, and his pasty face is blackening. No sound escapes his
+gaping mouth, from which the saliva streams. And the blood from the
+great artery, bitten through; like a torrent of warm and sticky rain
+deluges the face and breast of his enemy.
+
+"I buried the gold," the voice croaks in the now discoloured ear, "in
+Esther's tomb. Dost thou hear me well, O Hamid? But I have brought
+thee a gift instead--the gift that many have had of thee. Even Death
+at these hands of mine--murderer, fornicator, lecher! Another twist
+yet for thy fat neck. For Jacob! ... This for Esther!--this for
+Julian Forbis! ... And this last of all for John Hazaël--who takes
+the head of the dog! ..."
+
+The strength is ebbing from the great hands.... The fingers relax
+their hold upon the throat of the dead body.... Now with the head
+bent under it at a suggestive, ugly angle, it drops with a dull,
+heavy thud, upon the blood-slimed floor.
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+The sun of a day in the second week of December, 1917, rose on the
+last day of Ottoman dominion in the City that, since fifteen hundred
+years before the Birth of the Saviour at Bethlehem, has been, at
+regular intervals, the storm-centre of the world.
+
+Panic followed on the arrival of some disintegrated units of a
+Turkish transport-column with the news that the British occupied
+Hebron; that their Advance held the Railway, and would soon be within
+sight. "No lie," as ancient Fuller says, for the London Division was
+at Lifta.
+
+Hence general stampede ensued, and Turkish _postas_ of infantry,
+indifferent alike to the loaded whips and the curses of their
+officers, shed packs, bandoliers and rifles, and fled incontinent.
+There was a running to and fro of Jewish and native Syrian citizens.
+Wives and daughters called to husbands and sons, and brothers--long
+hidden in underground vaults, or unsuspected attics, "The Turks are
+running! Deliverance has come! ..."
+
+By two o'clock noon Turkish troops, mounted and afoot, muddy, weary
+and thoroughly disgruntled,--Field batteries, machine-gun companies,
+baggage-lorries and ambulances of the Red Crescent--poured through
+the Jaffa Gate from the west and south-west.
+
+"_Gitmeya mejburûz_--we have to go!" the _postas_ called to wounded
+comrades leaning from the Hospital windows, and the muddy torrent
+rolled through the streets of the Holy City, and out at St. Stephen's
+Gate upon the eastern side.
+
+Towards dark, the Governor Izzet Bey went to the telegraph-office,
+discharged the staff of trembling Turks, smashed the Morse
+instruments with a hammer, and leaving in charge of the nervous Mayor
+a letter of surrender--borrowed the Cape cart and team of an American
+resident, and left for Jericho.... And by seven a.m. on the
+anniversary of the day of the recapture of the Temple from Pagan
+Seleucids by Judas Maccabæus in 165 B.C. the Ottoman inundation had
+drained away into the sombre depths of the Valley of Jehoshaphat,
+over the ancient Roman bridges of the Jordan--and cowed and bullied
+citizens who had been beaten, dragooned and plundered--were mustering
+courage to plunder in their turn.
+
+
+The eagles of the R.F.C. wheeled in the azure overhead, but no
+pageantry of any kind marred the entry of the Conqueror.
+
+For years the gathering of more than three persons together in one
+place had been punished by the Turkish police with fines,
+imprisonment and beatings. Now the Turk had been thrust out, but
+Fear lingered still. For, as the British
+Commander-in-Chief--preceded by his _aides_ and Staff, and
+accompanied by distinguished representatives of the Allied
+Nations,--passed through the Jaffa Gate on foot, the huge concourse
+of pale and hollow-eyed residents and townsfolk mustered on the roofs
+and gathered in the streets--witnessed the thing almost in silence.
+Dumb, for the most part, pallid, immobile, like people carved of
+stone. Only, when from the Gateway before the Tower whose
+foundations were laid by David--and whose walls were reared by
+Suleiman the Magnificent--the Proclamation of Religious Freedom was
+read in the Four Languages, a sob like the breaking of a great wave
+broke from innumerable breasts, and eyes that had been dry for years
+were wet with tears at last....
+
+The work was done. By strategical pressure, without the graze of a
+bullet on her sacred walls, the Holy City had surrendered. He did
+not linger after the reading of the Proclamation. He received in the
+square behind the Citadel the civil and religious notables of the
+City--the Mayor of Jerusalem, the Shaykhs in charge of the Mosque of
+Omar and Aksa, the Rabbis of the Spanish, German and Syrian
+Synagogues, the Fathers Representative of the Syrian, Greek,
+Abyssinian, Armenian and Latin Catholic Churches (their Patriarchs
+having by the Turks been forcibly deported)--the Anglican Bishop, the
+American Episcopalian--and Dissenting Ministers....
+
+The brief ceremony over, he passed away as he had come, with his
+following, through the Gate of Jaffa; his soldierly tread sounding
+over the deep-buried threshold crossed in past ages by the war-horses
+of David, the chariot-wheels of Solomon and Nebuchadnezzar--the
+slave-borne litters of the Pharaohs, the tyrant-Kings of old
+Assyria--as by the golden-studded white bull's hide sandals of
+Alexander of Macedon, and from thenceonward how many conquerors
+more....
+
+Freedom and Peace came to the War-ridden City of the Prince of Peace
+with the Wire Road and the Pipe-Line. To a mixed and
+breathlessly-waiting queue of strangely-variegated nationalities,
+(per medium of a standpipe, an A.S.C Sergeant and a turn-tap) the
+Nile waters--cool and pure, if strongly flavoured with chlorine, were
+dispensed, and sent flowing through Jerusalem.... Fulfilling the
+ancient Egyptian prophecy, that when the waters of the Nile should
+flow into Palestine--there should arise in the West a prophet, one
+Al-Nebi, who should capture the Holy City that sits on three
+limestone hilltops of old Judæa--and deliver the land from the
+loathed dominion of the Turk.
+
+This having yet to be done, he went away to do it! perhaps with a
+passing smile at the breach in the City Wall made for the theatrical
+entry of the German No-Emperor in 1898. His was the motive power
+behind the long lines of moving men toiling northward under their
+packs through the mud of Judæa, the long trains of groaning baggage-
+and water-camels, the processions of waggons drawn by complaining
+mules, the caterpillar-wheeled lorries, carrying tons upon tons of
+food and ammunition, the Staff cars carrying red-tabbed officers
+swiftly from point to point....
+
+He was consolidating his positions on the Jerusalem-Shechem Road, and
+thrusting his cavalry over the Jordan, while a Sergeant and file of
+Military Police combed Alexandria for a defaulting London
+Territorial, Acting Sergeant John Hazel, of the Fenchurch Street
+Regiment,--who had failed to return to the Front at the end of the
+fortnight's leave. He was moving on Bethlehem, while the defaulter
+lay delirious on a string-bed, swathed in sheets of wet boracic
+wadding--in the house of a Jew of Shechem. One Benjamin Sebastia, a
+small dealer in precious stones, and a loyal friend to Esther
+Hazaël--otherwise known to readers of this tale as the Mother of
+Ugliness.
+
+The cellar in Benjamin Sebastia's house had often served as a
+hiding-place, being clean and dry and fairly free from stinks.
+Through its thick stone walls no curious ear could catch the sick
+man's ravings--when he called on certain Big Old Men to come to the
+rescue--or poured mad love-words in the imaginary ear of a woman
+named Katharine....
+
+It seemed, he thought, poor crazed and suffering wretch! that he had
+kept back from a man named Yaill a certain letter and, carrying out a
+rescue by his own unaided hand, had claimed reward of this service
+from the aforesaid Katharine. Through the long days and the longer
+nights, when the scourge of self-reproach for this imaginary baseness
+bit deep into the tortured soul housed in the tortured body, the
+woman who sat beside him never once failed to answer:
+
+"But, John Hazaël, my cousin, thou didst not do the thing!"
+
+"Did I not? ... Is that true?" he would ask her over and over. "But
+I wished to, I desired to...."
+
+"And desiring, thou didst resist."
+
+"That is good--if it be true...."
+
+"It is true. Does Esther ever lie to thee?"
+
+"No!" he would groan, lying there in his helplessness. "Now tell me
+again how I was found, and brought to this place?"
+
+"When--" (she would lay fresh pieces of soaked lint on the huge,
+swollen body, or ease the perpetual, torturing thirst with some cool,
+refreshing drink.) "When I ran away from Kir Saba, back to Shechem, I
+found--"
+
+"That I," there is a smile on the shapeless mouth--"that I had kept
+my word to thee, and taken the head of the dog! I think the people
+did not weep? ..."
+
+"Nay. It was as the passing of a plague--the lifting of a
+shadow--and the soldiers who had guarded the Wired Place openly
+rejoiced. Many being set down for beating, and fines, and so
+forth--because of neglect in the matter of keeping watch, on the
+night of the Sidi's escape...."
+
+"They got good rest that night, I think? ..."
+
+"So good," she gives her little rustling laugh, "that all of them
+swear they were bewitched, or that some friend of the Sidi's drugged
+the rations sent from the Barracks--so that they slept like the
+Seven, and waked to find him gone. So they were glad the Bey was
+dead.... Especially the _sabtiehs_ of his command were glad, for
+their old _bimbashi_ is now Commandant--and his name hath favour
+among them--he being a merciful man."
+
+"A merciful Turk is a rare bird," the formless mouth says grimly.
+"And so--no suspicion attaching to her name--or thine--the Dervish
+remaining silent--thou didst bribe the Gipsy woman of the Bazâr to go
+with thee to the hut in the Wired Place, and take my body away...."
+
+"Paying a price to the soldiers in the name of certain Jewish
+townsfolk, who--it being known among them that thou wert a
+Jew!--would have buried thee decently. And when--thinking thee a
+corpse--I leaned over thee to cut away the knotted rag that hid the
+Signet of Hazaël, from the cord by which thou hadst hung it round thy
+neck--I saw, by the Mercy of the Most High!--that thou wert still
+breathing. And even as I myself was brought into this place of
+hiding, I and Inaini the Gipsy, carried thee here that night....
+Some help I gave in the sickness of her child, she hath never
+forgotten. May the Most High reward her! ... What had we done
+without her strong arms to lift thee, and her poultices of healing
+herbs.... Now sleep, for thou hast talked enough! See how thy poor
+heart shakes thee! ..."
+
+"One question more...." The puffy lips are blue, and he labours in
+his breathing: "When shall I be able to stand again on these
+elephant's feet of mine? ..."
+
+She swallows her tears and answers:
+
+"Soon, it may be.... Only be content, only wait a little longer!"
+
+And propped on high-piled pillows, he promises obediently, looking
+down his long misshapen bulk at his huge distorted feet.
+
+"Very well! I will wait a little longer. Thou hast money to meet
+the charges?"
+
+"Plenty as yet, my cousin--without touching the sum that was in the
+belt thou gavest me to keep. Tell me one thing.... If thou couldst
+be moved--whither wouldst thou be carried, we escaping under cover of
+night from this unhappy place? ..."
+
+"To somewhere near Jerusalem," says the thick voice, feebly.
+
+"To Jerusalem? ..."
+
+She starts and looks at him, but the black eyes under their calloused
+lids are fixed upon the opposite wall.
+
+"I said to somewhere near there. I may not go to the City until I
+get a message from One who is my Friend...."
+
+"He has come there with the British since the Turks were driven out
+of the City? ..."
+
+The black eyes slowly move to meet hers. He shakes his scarred head:
+
+"Nay. He has been waiting there for long--a very long time.... But
+when I get a Sign from Him, then I must go up...."
+
+"There is some great reason compelling thee?"
+
+"There is something waiting for me at Jerusalem. I was told it that
+night in the wooden hut. Tell me"--the voice is like a child's--"if
+I cannot move, how shall I obey the Sign when it comes to me? ..."
+
+She soothes him, thinking that his pain and weakness make him wander.
+
+"Leave all to me. To-morrow may find thee strong. Only rest and
+sleep now! ..."
+
+And he sleeps, with heavy broken breaths of utter exhaustion and
+weariness.
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+He is kept concealed--for though Turkish vigilance is somewhat
+relaxed in Shechem--there would be short shrift for the slayer of
+Hamid, were he known to be living still. Perhaps it may be because
+of this, that though his wounds slowly heal, John grows no stronger.
+A Jewish surgeon, related to Benjamin Sebastia, who is brought by
+stealth to see the patient, examines him, and goes away, shaking his
+head.
+
+"Too late! It would always have been too late, however soon you had
+called me," he says to Sebastia as he takes his leave. "The man must
+have had a giant's strength to live through such an ordeal. My
+brother was a powerful man, yet he died under the rods.... Heart a
+wreck! ... Lungs.... Pff! ... May die at any moment! ... _Shalôm!_
+To the Downfall of the Ottoman Power, and the Restoration of Jewry!"
+and he drains his glass of Palestine Tokay and refuses his fee, and
+goes. And his verdict is cautiously broken to John Hazel, who
+comforts weeping Esther, declaring the opinion of a Hebrew in a
+_kaftan_ and fur hat and side-curls, with a Paris Diploma--not worth
+a British damn! He is even a shade better next day, as though in
+sheer defiance of the owner of the Paris Diploma and the side-curls
+and _kaftan_....
+
+He has known how the months change by the flowers that Esther brings
+him, and others that Inaini, smiling, produces from the folds of her
+veil. Great clusters of crimson anemones, crocuses, purple and
+white; grape hyacinths, tulips and daffodils--and it is March. More
+anemones of varied, jewel-bright colours, purple, pink, and crimson;
+jonquils, and white and yellow Marguerites. Yellow, blue and lilac
+lupins--narcissus and violets, iris and cyclamen--and wealthy April's
+here.... He likes the anemones and looks at them for hours, drowsily
+turning them in his well-nigh helpless hands.... For the creamy ones
+are like Katherine's skin, and the rose-red are her blushes, and the
+brown-gold are--or so he thinks--the colour of her eyes.... The rows
+of velvety hairs that fringe the centre of the corolla are black as
+her eye-lashes--black as her hair.... But the scent of violets
+brings her back, complete in her sweet womanliness, with the Chapel
+and Kerr's Arbour for a background to it all....
+
+Now come great sheaves of lilies, phlox and gladioli, and it is May,
+the Month of the Rose. Masses of perfume, colour and fragrance are
+brought to the cellar in the jeweller's back-yard. And John plays
+with them, or stares at the whitewashed wall, or listens as Esther
+reads to him from a copy of the Jewish Scriptures, a volume belonging
+to their host, printed in Hebrew and Arabic. The Messianic
+Prophecies are what he hears most gladly, and oftenest asks for. One
+day as she closes the Book at the end of a passage from Isaiah:
+
+
+"_And He was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our
+iniquities, and the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and by
+His stripes we are healed._"
+
+
+"That--that is why it was said to me that night!--" she hears the
+slow voice whisper: "'Thou hast suffered for obedience to thy
+father's fathers, and for the keeping of the Oath, and for the love
+of one woman. But I, that I might do the Will of My Father--and thy
+Father--and for the love of all mankind.'"
+
+"O my Cousin!" Habitually now, the soft Arabic speech flows to and
+fro between them, "Who was it said those words to thee? ..."
+
+"It was on the night--" the scarred head turns on the high-propped
+pillow--"the night after the beating. My hands and feet were
+torture, and I had a great thirst. And there came a light on the
+wall of the hut, and Somebody spoke to me, and the blood cleared from
+my eyes, and I saw Him then...."
+
+"Who--who was He?" She draws an awed breath.
+
+"He said He was my Friend--and I believed Him. You could not see Him
+as I did--and doubt any more. Dost thou recall the fresco in the
+tomb on Ebal? It is not like--how could it be His likeness? But the
+man who made it had seen Him in a Vision, and caught the faintest
+shadow of His look."
+
+"I--do not understand...."
+
+"It does not matter. But that is why I was so sure I should not die
+just then.... I cannot yet enter Jerusalem, for there is blood upon
+my hands that has been shed in vengeance--but, I am to wait near the
+City until I get the Sign...."
+
+"Dearest, art thou quite sure--"
+
+"I doubt not, being certain. Now, having breath enough--I would
+speak of other things. When I am dead, thou wilt write and tell the
+things to my mother--and go to thine own mother at Alexandria. She
+is wealthy and so art thou, thou dost need no provision, so the
+Fortune of Eli Hazaël, our grandfather, will go to build and endow
+the Hebrew University."
+
+"But thy brother, Maurice, what of him?"
+
+"It is borne in on me," the black eyes are momentarily dimmed, "that
+Maurice is dead. I have felt it for a long time. My mother must be
+sorely grieved. He was her dearest son."
+
+"Art thou not dear to her also?" Esther asks sadly.
+
+"She will sorrow for me too--but not as she does for Maurice. And
+she has a good friend, an old flame,--a Dutchman in the City, Herman
+Van Ost his name is--and she will marry him now. She would have
+married him years ago, but Maurice did not wish it. There is another
+task for thee yet, my Sweet. Dost thou shrink from it, Little One?"
+
+"Nay. For thou art Hazaël, and the Head of our House. Surely I will
+obey thee. Have thou no doubt of me! ..."
+
+"Kind One! ... Brave One! Little Judith in Israel!-- Surely thou
+wilt be rewarded for thy courage and thy faith. Listen now! ... When
+I who am the littlest and least of all the Hazaëls shall be gathered
+to our fathers--thou shalt seek out Katharine Forbis--wherever thou
+shalt hear of her--and carry word from me." The voice deepens and
+grows strong: "Say--there is no longer an Hazaël left of the male
+line, to guard the Ashes. The Oath is fulfilled--the Debt is paid!
+Katharine and her children--and theirs following them--must take upon
+them to be Guardians of the Shrine."
+
+"What Oath was it?"
+
+"The Oath made sixteen hundred years ago and more, by Hazaël Aben
+Hazaël. Remember!--she is to take the Urn back to Kerr's Arbour, and
+house it under the altar in the Chapel there.... And her children
+will reverence it--knowing its sacredness. Perhaps," the black eyes
+are shining now with a light that is soft and gentle, "perhaps there
+will be a little boy--with eyes like his mother's--who will ask for
+the story oftener and love it more than the
+others--because--because--his name will be John ..."
+
+"Ah, dearest!--dearest! ..."
+
+"Do not cry. All this when I have departed.... Till then I would be
+forgotten by all I used to know."
+
+"Then thou wilt say I have done right when I tell thee that some two
+months back--when thou wert very feeble--diligent search was made for
+thee. Even under the eyes of the Turks and Germans--a man whom thou
+knowest ventured into this place."
+
+"One whom I know! ..." The black eyes flash, the scarred head turns
+towards her on the pillow: "Is his name Yaill?"
+
+"His name is Colonel Edward Yaill, though sometimes he calls himself
+the Emir Fadl Anga. He was garbed as a Moghrabi sugar-merchant--but
+I knew his eyes again. So I sought him out, and guessing at thy
+pleasure in the matter, I told him thou couldst not be moved--and he
+went away from here."
+
+"It is well. Now I talk no more, sweetheart, for breath is hard to
+come by. Do one thing that I ask before the daylight goes. Take off
+thy veil, little Judith, and let me see thee plainly. For once! I
+will not ask again, if my asking hurt thee so!"
+
+She falters a refusal, then yields at his entreaty.
+
+"Shut thine eyes for a little moment, and open when I call...."
+
+He shuts his eyes and opens them, to see Esther sitting at the
+bed-foot.... A figure girlish in its youth fulness, pathetic in its
+slender fragility, and veilless, save for the tresses of her rich
+black silken hair. She parts the hair with two little brown hands,
+then throws it back on either side, revealing the face it has
+covered--and a sob catches in the man's throat, and his eyes are wet
+with tears....
+
+For that side of Esther's face that is never shown is beautiful,
+strangely beautiful. The great dark eye under the arched black
+eyebrow, the little aquiline nose, with proud curved nostrils, the
+delicate mouth, the rounded chin, are of purest Hebrew type. She
+bears his scrutiny awhile, then lifts the discarded covering, adjusts
+it with quick, slender hands--and is Ummshni once again.
+
+"Will that do? Hast thou looked enough?" she asks with a touch of
+sharp regret for her lost heritage of Beauty.
+
+"I have looked.... And I have seen--as I knew I should!" says John
+placidly, "that thy face, my little Esther--is lovely as thy soul.
+Now I will rest, for I am done. Perhaps I shall walk to-morrow...."
+
+Comes the month of June, with ardent suns, and July with skies of
+fire. Esther reads to John in another Book--a copy of the Syriac
+Gospels picked up on a stall in the Bazâr--of One Whose teachings she
+has been reared to hold as rank blasphemy. But her Hazaël has
+commanded it, and she obeys Hazaël, and reads of Him Who raised the
+dead to life, and opened the eyes of those born blind, and made the
+lame to walk. Here in this land of Palestine nearly two thousand
+years ago. But time goes on and this lame man does not walk yet....
+
+It is October, the month of Asphodel, and Shechem is swept clean of
+Germans and Turks, as the brown line moves up north. The great
+Commander-in-Chief of the E.E.F. has carried out his leopard-pounce
+on Nazareth,--whence Von Sanders and his Headquarters Staff have
+fled--Tiberias and Amman have been occupied by British Forces, and
+the stronghold of Turkish Power at Damascus has fallen, before the
+colossal, tottering bulk can balance on its feet.
+
+No available garments of European make can be adapted to John's
+hugeness. Esther and the jewel-dealer's wife are in despair, then
+hit upon a brilliant idea. A vast pair of Turkish drawers of yellow
+and white striped-cotton are tucked into the baggy tops of immense
+soft yellow boots. Over an Arab _jubba_ of white cotton material
+goes a loose-sleeved Arab over-robe of brown camel-hair. They cover
+him with a black felt _tarbûsh_, and a white silk _kuffiyeh_ bound
+with a scarlet head-rope, and swathe him in the voluminous folds of a
+primrose-coloured _jerd_. Now, with the beard that he has grown in
+captivity at Shechem, the mother at home in London would not know her
+son again.
+
+The German Commander with his merry men departed in haste for Aleppo
+when the huge khaki torrent rolled upon Samaria from the South....
+The Turks of the garrison escaped over Jordan, the batteries on the
+flank of Ebal were taken by the British, and the Patriarchs and other
+notables deported from the Holy City are chartering vehicles to take
+them back again.
+
+Some of these are quaint enough. To witness, the ancient
+travelling-landau, piled with luggage of a heterogeneous description,
+packed with Armenian Fathers, and drawn by a tall camel and a small,
+rebellious mule. But the hooded bath-pony-chair of largest size, a
+venerable derelict of British make left by some wealthy traveller
+years ago to moulder in the courtyard of a Shechem hotel, to which a
+diminutive red-tasselled donkey has been harnessed, and in which is
+seated a prodigiously obese and bushy-bearded Arab, possibly takes
+the palm....
+
+Three women run beside the chair, drawn by the small donkey driven by
+an Arab urchin with a sharpened palm-wood stick. As the chair rolls
+through the east gate, and moves in the rolling dust-cloud with a
+column of other vehicles, past the Wired Place and the Mohammedan
+Tombs, the little donkey stops.
+
+"_Shalôm, Sidi_! Health and recovery be thine--and Happiness with
+the Blessing!" says the wife of the jewel-dealer, bidding John Hazel
+farewell.
+
+"Farewell, O woman of gentle heart.... Remember me to thy husband.
+And farewell, kind Inaini.... Sometimes remember us! ..."
+
+"Farewell, my lord.... My lord will not soon forget Shechem!" says
+Inaini, with a flash of brilliant eyes and teeth from between her
+flowered veils....
+
+"Nor thee. May the Most High reward thee for all thy charity! ..."
+
+"It was nothing!" says the woman, almost sullenly, but John can hear
+her sob....
+
+"O my friend! O my sister! Farewell, good-bye! Little Mother of
+Ugliness, my heart is sore to part! ..."
+
+The jewel-dealer's wife hugs the little white-robed figure. Esther
+embraces her, and then Inaini--and the honest woman and the courtesan
+go away together, both red-eyed with weeping behind their shrouding
+veils. And the big bath chair drawn by the little donkey--with the
+huge Arab in it and the little woman and the native boy running
+beside it--is lost in the stream of traffic on the Jerusalem-Shechem
+Road.
+
+It is a day of dust and sun, and the big man in the bath chair drawn
+by the little donkey is as feeble as he is heavy, and unfitted to
+bear fatigue. It is night by the time they have left the plain, and
+the road climbs amongst the hills, that are ridged and furrowed with
+the traces of War, as the face that is shaded by the white _jerd_,
+and the body that the sick heart's throbbing shakes, and the man's
+misshapen hands and feet are scarred by the Turkish _asayisi_....
+
+Sunset flames over the Western Sea and all the land is rosy-dyed when
+at last he looks on the ancient City, the bourne of his desires. Set
+between east and west upon three hills, of which the lesser, Ophel,
+has vanished--the limestone spurs of Sion and Moriah upholding her,
+she turns her back upon the ocean plain and the mild damp airs that
+blow from it, to fill her lungs with the burning winds and
+dust-storms of the Wilderness--where the Son of God and Saviour of
+mankind was tempted of Satan, and Jordan's yellow waters flow towards
+the abyss of the Dead Sea.
+
+They go no farther that night, for the sick man cannot bear it, but
+hire two rooms, almost clean, and newly whitewashed, at the Khân of a
+little mud-built Mohammedan village that sits on a hill beside the
+road.
+
+The left wing of the London Division were entrenched here before the
+Occupation, and the Advance that moved them north.... The whitewash
+of the Khân of Shafât has familiar names scribbled upon it, attached
+to caustic comments on the price of native eggs, dates, cheese,
+oranges and olives, as compared with their quality and their size.
+
+And here the little party stay. For the big man in the bath chair
+can travel no farther. Many days pass and he can move again; and the
+little donkey is harnessed to the chair by its tasselled traces, and
+the Arab boy with the palm-stick, and the little veiled woman run by
+it--and the queer _cortége_ halts by and by where the broad dusty
+track that leads south and a shade west to the Damascus Gate, forks
+off on the left to the less broad, better-kept carriage way
+that--following the line of the mountain-ridge, leads--south and a
+trifle east--to the Mount of Olives, passing the Tombs of the Kings.
+
+In the shadow of the south wall of the royal enclosure, the sick man
+signifies his wish to halt. All day he lingers there, content, and
+for the greater part in silence; shares with his meek nurse and the
+Arab boy such food as they have with them--and when the short dusk
+heralds Dark, is loth to leave the spot. Next day they are there
+again--and the next day and the next. It is here, he signifies to
+his patient nurse, that the Message he waits will reach him--and
+content that Hazaël should be content, she knows no other will.
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+Meanwhile, the period of stagnation past, the current of life begins
+to flow within and around Jerusalem. In the house of an English
+Protestant Missionary Society without the walls, a Division has its
+Headquarters. At the Sign of the Red Triangle, guides may be
+obtained for the reverent conduct of soldier-visitors to the Holy
+Places. Here also photographs for the folks at home, with lightning
+hair-cuts and shaves, can be supplied with light refreshments.
+Signboards along the Jaffa Road invite Crusaders from the Land of the
+Ifrangi to partake at their own peril of sweets, ices and cakes....
+And a Divisional Theatre flourishes in a tin-roofed shed, outside the
+Gate of Jaffa, and a Cinema established in a ramshackle booth is
+nightly packed to the walls.
+
+Though the trenches and gun-emplacements on the Mount of Olives and
+Mount Scopas yet speak of War, there are local tennis-parties on
+badly neglected lawns, and even small dances to the accompaniment of
+the gramophone. The donkey-boys and Cook's tourists are no more....
+But there are Military Races and Military Sports; and divers
+favourites, human and equine, are duly backed by the men of the
+Expeditionary Army....
+
+Within the City English soldiers guard the Church of the Holy
+Sepulchre and Mohammedans the Haram. The depot of the A.S.C. is
+lodged in the courtyard of a Jewish School.
+
+English Military Nursing Sisters are housed in the Abyssinian
+Patriarch's palace--the French Convent where the Turkish Army
+Officers were, now shelters French soldiers--though the Turkish
+Crescent and Star have not yet been obliterated from the Jaffa Gate;
+and the Arab police, in black sheepskin caps and dark blue drill
+uniforms, keep order as they used to under the Turkish _régime_....
+
+Though the solemn boom of heavy guns still wakens all the echoes of
+the Hills of Judæa, though Turkish batteries and Turkish troops move
+in the neighbourhood of Jericho, and British motor-launches churn the
+waters of the Dead Sea, the Holy City is wakening from her torpor of
+years.... Kinder-gartens and boys' and girls' schools, Christian and
+Jewish, Homes and Orphanages--the Teacher's University, the
+Missionary Colleges, and the seminaries supervised by Catholic
+Religious--revive like the withered blossoms of the so-called Jericho
+Rose....
+
+The Clothes-Market near the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,--where skin
+affections and fleas could be purchased at exorbitant
+prices--re-opens. In the labyrinth of _bâzârs_ under the shadowy
+arcades, the Jew and Arab pedlars set up their stalls of rosaries and
+medals, gaudy religious pictures, and common household wares.
+Sleek-haired Levantines and Syrians behind counters of modern shops,
+offer antiques and souvenirs in mother o' pearl and olive-wood;
+ostrich feathers, roses of Jericho, Syriac Gospels and Rolls of the
+Law. German stores miraculously become Dutch, offer for sale
+liqueurs, cigars, _sauer-kraut_ in barrels, tinned sausage, pickles
+and chocolates.
+
+
+And the People who Wait for Signs have come out of their various
+hiding-places. The haggard man who carries a heavy wooden Cross and
+wears a plaited Crown of Thorns, pants under his heavy burden from
+station to station along the Sorrowful Way.... And the other, long
+haired and wearing robes of white, waits again near the Jaffa Gate,
+carrying his brightly-polished lamp, well trimmed and filled with
+oil. He says he is one of the Virgins waiting for the Coming of the
+Bridegroom.... And again, there is another, a handsome, martial
+figure, in the panoply of a Knight of Malta, folded in a
+cross-embroidered mantle, girt with a Crusader's sword....
+
+Who knows what compact these and many more have made with One Whom
+they acknowledge Master. They are content, for their belief in Him,
+to be despised as fools. Calm, reasonable Christians shudder at, or
+ignore, while the Children of Islam respect them. To their number
+another is added with the passage of the days....
+
+December draws to its end again. Tea-parties and concerts are given,
+and the Representatives of the Three Great Faiths may be said to
+fraternise. The Red Cross and the Society of St. John of Jerusalem
+unite in splendid efforts for the good of War-ridden Humanity. The
+olives are grey-green, and the palms are yellowing, and the first
+pale mist of almond-bloom pinkens on the hillsides, above the hedges
+of tamarisk--and Christmas Eve is here....
+
+The portly Arab in the bath-chair drawn by the tiny donkey sits in
+his accustomed place, from which fierce gales and heavy Winter rains
+alone may drive him, in the shelter of the south wall of the
+Enclosure of the Tombs of the Kings....
+
+Two chaplains of the E.E.F. go by in their cross-badged khaki;
+accompanied by an elderly Armenian in flowing black _kaftan_ and high
+square head-dress.
+
+"There's the New Crank," says an Oxford voice. "And the little
+Syrian woman, and the bath chair and the donkey-boy--and the donkey
+possibly--all waiting as usual for the Sign that doesn't come!"
+
+"'The Sign.' What Sign? ..."
+
+The second khaki chaplain looks with interest at the Arab. The
+strong south wind has blown back the folds of his ample
+head-covering, and it is plainly seen what kind of man the drapery
+has concealed. His huge ears, swollen beyond all shape, hang down on
+the bulgy, turgid flesh of the neck-folds, his huge hooked nose, and
+long but shapeless upper-lip dominate an extraordinary acreage of
+countenance that is ridged and knobbed and crumpled like a new-dug
+potato-field. And his great hands and gigantic arms, wherever these
+are visible, present the same appearance, to the chaplain's curious
+eye.
+
+"Would that be some obscure form of elephantiasis, do you think,
+now?" he asks the Armenian ecclesiastic who walks by his side.
+
+"It is not disease of any kind," the Armenian answers in English.
+"The man has been beaten--nearly to death, and has lived--that is
+all! ... Many of my friends, condemned to the severest punishment of
+the Turkish _asâyisi_, have died under the infliction--as this man
+was meant to do...."
+
+"Speak lower!" It is the second chaplain in khaki who is speaking.
+"That Arab understands you.... I saw it in his eyes...."
+
+"Not he!" the first speaker returns. "He's an Arab pure and
+simple--and some of the Tommies have dubbed him 'The Father of
+Buffaloes.' The little woman with him has a nickname--somebody told
+me.... "_Sabâh-el-kheir_, Daddy Buffalo.... _Khud_!--and good luck
+to you! ..."
+
+And a couple of Turkish _beshliks_ clink into the Arab's lap.
+
+"Thy day be happy and blessed!" says a deep bass voice in answer.
+The three pedestrians pass on, and the beshliks fall amongst the
+straw in the bottom of the bath-chair. Unseen save by the sharp
+glance of the Arab donkey-boy, who squats in the shadow of the wall
+of the Enclosure, playing, with lines scratched upon the smooth
+limestone, a game that is scored upon the walls and flags of old
+Pompeii, as upon the recently excavated guard-room of the Herodian
+Mercenaries, eighteen feet under the level of the Sorrowful Way. A
+brace of coppers thrown to a sick man sitting by the wayside are
+surely given in charity. Yet when the sick one dies, the Fund
+amassed to build and endow the Hebrew University (the foundations of
+which are being even now blasted in the rock of Mount Scopas) will be
+enriched by a legacy of three hundred and eighty thousand pounds....
+
+"What does it matter, Essie? Sweet One, why dost thou tremble?
+Surely the gift was kindly meant!"
+
+The speaker thinks that his companion has been hurt by the bestowal
+of the coins. But she has not even seen the gift made, or heard the
+giver's words....
+
+A moment since, a grey Staff car, driven by a soldier-chauffeur with
+the Great Headquarters' brassard--coming from the direction of the
+station beyond the Montefiore Hospice, by the road that skirts the
+City wall, to debouch upon the Road of the Damascus Gate--has passed
+by the Tombs of the Kings. Driven at speed, it has flashed by,
+carrying strangers with it. But one face was not strange.... One
+voice; borne on the wind that blows from Samaria, has echoed in the
+ears of Esther-Ummshni, bringing memories that brim the heart....
+
+"I did not hear.... I thought I saw.... What is it, what is it,
+Mabruk?"
+
+For the Arab boy has run down the road to meet a messenger from the
+Khân.
+
+"What says he? ..." asks the deep, slow voice.
+
+"He says--Mabruk says--" Esther commences, shaking like a wind-blown
+reed of the Jordan behind her shrouding veils: "that strangers are at
+Shafât. He says--"
+
+"O Shaykh!--" Mabruk, a lanky crow-necked youngster, son of the
+Mohammedan landlord of the Shafât Khân, importantly steps forwards:
+"Great ones have arrived at my father's Khân. Two lords of the
+Inglizi, and a lady, tall and beautiful. They have sent me in the
+horseless carriage to bring back thee and the Sitti. This letter
+also they have sent thee by thy servant's hands.--Behold! ..."
+
+Mabrûk lifts the note to his eyes and forehead, and hands it over. A
+folded sheet of paper, sealed with an impression of a well-known onyx
+signet, and scrawled with some hastily pencilled lines in a beloved
+hand:
+
+
+"I am here, at the Khân at Shafât, with my brother and husband. Do
+not be angry that we have come! Your aunt is with us. Tell your
+Cousin Esther, whom I long to see and thank for my dear Julian, but
+not as I'm longing to see and thank you! Alone, dear, dear
+John!--because I'm jealous of the others. Your first word--your
+first look have got to be for me. Come back in the car or send it
+back to fetch--
+
+ Your loving, grateful
+ KATHARINE YAILL."
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+Married. For a long time John has felt that she was married. Well,
+well, it was to be. His sovereign lady, his dear Princess, a wife,
+and soon, perhaps, a mother. God bless her and her husband. He is
+glad, glad, because of their happiness.... Holding the pencilled
+scrawl with the seal of the Hercules, his shapeless hand drops
+heavily back upon his knees.
+
+"O John, my Cousin, answer me!"--Esther is eagerly speaking--"The
+Sign that thou hast waited for so long, was it not this? ..."
+
+"Nay, Sweet!" He shakes his head. "This is a token from a friend
+beloved, but not the Sign I look for.... Now undo the Ring of Hazaël
+from the cord about my neck. Carry it to her at the Khân where she
+waits with her brother. Render it back to them both from me. Giving
+with the Ring, the Message I have taught thee!--I need not to repeat
+the words, they are written in thy heart...."
+
+"But, dearest one--it was a message from the Dead, and thou art yet
+living...."
+
+She looks anxiously in the speaker's face. Save that the black eyes
+have a strange glaze, and the puffed lips are lead-colour--and the
+beating of his damaged heart shakes the flowing draperies that cover
+him--there is nothing to rouse her fears.
+
+"Take Katharine," there is a clang of masterful authority in the deep
+voice, "take Katharine the Message--from the departing Guardian of
+the Ashes. Return in an hour. Leave the child here to sit by me.
+One thing remains!--" He calls her back as she is turning meekly to
+obey him: "Kiss me, my Little Cousin, before thou dost depart."
+
+She goes, and presently the hoot of a car testifies to her
+departure.... It nears the hour of sunset on this Vigil of the
+Nativity. There was a tang of frost early in the morning. But the
+rosy air is warm and still, the sky serenely splendid, the
+orange-breasted blackbirds pipe and trill, and clouds of little
+ash-coloured, grasshopper-like insects rise at the brush of footsteps
+through the short dun-coloured grass....
+
+He sits there for a long time or a short time, he is not certain. To
+the soul upon the edge of Timelessness, many hours are as one....
+The tiny donkey, hobbled, grazes at a little distance. The Arab
+child who drives the beast, plays the game that the soldiers of the
+Roman Guard played in the days of Herod, and then, grown weary,
+steals off to play elsewhere....
+
+The sick man dozes heavily now, with jaw a little fallen, and black
+eyes that show glazed and dim between their parted lids.... The
+breaths that shake the puffed lips come slower and fainter. The Arab
+_jerd_ that swathes him ceases to tremble with the irregular beating
+of his heart....
+
+Suddenly, his eyes stare wide and a strange cold thrill goes through
+him. He has been touched.... By whose hand? ... No messenger stands
+near.... Can it be that so strange a shock heralds the Sign that he
+has waited? ...
+
+Midnight!--yet when he closed his eyes it was not yet sunset, the
+blind muezzin of the Mosque of the Throne of Solomon had not given
+the Call to Prayer.... And now, the Hosts of Heaven blaze from
+zenith to horizon. The full Moon stands over Bethlehem and the flood
+of radiant pale light makes Jerusalem a silver city, inlaid with jet
+and ebony....
+
+Solemn black clouds heap over Moab. The Valley of the Kedron and the
+Vale of Our Lady Mary are swallowed in a gulf of shade. But Olivet
+is glorious in the brilliance that pours down on her, making a prone
+black giant under every lonely cypress, and a black cat crouching
+under every bush and stone.
+
+Bells ring from all the convents, and churches in Jerusalem. All
+over Palestine bells ring for Christmas Day. From Bethlehem where He
+was born, comes the sound of joyful chiming. On the north wind the
+sound of bells is brought from Nazareth....
+
+"Peace on earth!" ... John Hazel stands and listens, as from north,
+east, west and south the bells of Christmas ring.... A great cry
+breaks from him, of wild despair and anguish:
+
+"O Christ, there is no peace for me while yet Thou art withholden. O
+Shepherd of all broken hearts! send me Thy promised Sign! Speak to
+me at least, you Big Old Men," he cries, "for I am lonely! ... Say to
+this John, the littlest and least of all the Hazaëls--that I have
+done my duty, and ye are content with me!"
+
+The shuddering cry dies on the breeze. And a terrible voice answers:
+
+"Not the least, but the greatest of all art thou.... For thou art
+our leader. Hear, now! The choice has fallen to thee. Worthy art
+thou to rule us, who canst so well obey! ..."
+
+Wonderful sight.... On his left hand, on his right and before him.
+From the skirts of the Mount of Olives, to the Mohammedan Cemetery,
+and across the road of the Damascus Gate, to the site of the Unknown
+Tombs.... Rank upon rank of Big Old Men--stately as Kings, in
+flowing robes and high jewelled tiaras, and others in less ancient
+garb, and others in more modern garments--even down to the style of
+the present day. He sees his grandfather, Eli, and his own father,
+and his brother Maurice, and stretches his hands to them, crying, as
+they smile and wave to him:
+
+"Tell me, is this the Sign that I was promised when I was chained to
+the bed in the Turkish hut and the Voice spoke to me? ..."
+
+And all the Hazaëls answer in deep, tremendous voices, and then the
+turmoil quietens down, and the Biggest of all the Big Old Men stands
+forth and gives reply:
+
+"We know not of any Sign, O John! Thou calledst, and we answered.
+Now hear Hazaël Aben Hazaël, who made the Oath of old.... Lead and
+we follow.... Command, and we obey thee. Speak, and deliver
+counsels--thou greatest of us all!"
+
+John hesitates a moment, and then words come to him:
+
+"O all ye Big Old Men, listen to me, the littlest! This is the lore
+I have gathered in the thirty-five years of my life. Human Love is a
+passing Breath--a rosy, flying Shadow. Happiness, Wealth, Honour,
+Fame--are cobwebs on the wind. Rank and Power are gilded stools,
+worm-eaten and rotten. Nothing is Real--nothing is true--but the
+Truths ye would not see! There is no gain save Sacrifice--no good
+save Renunciation!--no Way except the Way of the Cross--no Hope but
+in the Blood of CHRIST! He is our King! ... Now follow me, and we
+will do Him homage. Or cast me out from among you, and let me be
+forgotten. I, John, the littlest of all the Hazaëls, have said my
+say! ..."
+
+"We hear!" The deep chorus of answering voices rose and rolled down
+on him.... "We hear. Lead on--we follow thee!"
+
+"It is well. Wheel and face southwards, O ye Hazaëls! and form four
+men abreast in columns of companies."
+
+He gives the order loud and clear, and the extended ranks of towering
+figures shift and change, and close in--and all the faces are turned
+from him, except the face of the very Biggest of all the Big Old Men.
+He says to John, in a voice that is very like John's own:
+
+"I am the Captain of thy host. Give me the route of march."
+
+"First to Bethlehem, the Place of His Birth, and then to His Death
+Place on Calvary," John answers, though his knees seem melting under
+him, and he has hardly any breath.
+
+"And then? ... Whither go we? ... For the Gate of the Place where we
+abode is now shut behind us.... Is there not entrance for thee and
+me and these, by the Gate of Hope? ... The Gate that opened for
+Philoremus Fabius--that I saw when the Blemmyes gave me death! ..."
+
+"But I do not know the Gate of Hope! ..." John falters, rather
+weakly, and the Biggest of all his Big Old Men answers him sternly
+now:
+
+"The Crucified promised thee a Sign--and He deceives not. Ask now
+His Father in His Name--to open His Gate of Hope!"
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+And John hears his own voice blundering in the petition:
+
+"O Christ, Who art the Very Truth, show now the Sign Thou promised!
+Lead us into the Land of Peace by Thine Own Gate of Hope! O look!
+... Look, ye Hazaëls!--in the sky, over the Holy City! ..."
+
+Obedient to the voice and the arm that is uplifted, the faces of the
+mighty host, are upturned to the sky. Faces that are dark and
+fierce, noble and mild, harsh and stern or gentle.... Faces of Kings
+and prophets and sages, leaders of hosts and seers of visions; men of
+the sceptre, men of the sword, men of the crucible, men of the
+scalpel; men of the pen, men of the spade and pickaxe--men of all
+ages and all climes--but Hebrew every one....
+
+Over the ancient City that stoned her prophets, and cast out her
+Saints, having slain the Son of God--is another City, shining-walled,
+with radiant domes and towers. Figures more radiant walk upon her
+walls and crowd her housetops. John knows the City. Of it he spoke
+to Esther a little while ago.
+
+A Gate is opened in Her walls between two shining towers. A Man
+stands on the threshold more glorious than the Sun. Majesty and
+meekness radiate from Him, with Love and Compassion and Mercy....
+His Hands are stretched in welcome. They are Wounded, like His Feet.
+He speaks, touching His naked Side, where the gash of the Roman spear
+is:
+
+"Come unto Me, My people! Here is the Gate of Hope! ..."
+
+* * * * * * *
+
+An earthly voice John Hazel used to think the loveliest of women's
+voices, calls him with eager breathlessness. Now a tall figure in a
+felt hat, with the Red Cross badge and ribbon, and a flowing cape of
+red-lined blue, comes swiftly down the road. A gallant, womanly
+creature with beautiful and tender eyes that John has often dreamed
+of.... They lighten as they fall on the great shapeless bulk of the
+man, who--dressed like an Arab--is sitting in an old bath-chair....
+
+The little donkey grazes near, the Arab boy is not visible. It is
+just upon the flush of sunset, and the voice of the blind _muezzin_
+at the Mosque of the Throne of Solomon comes faintly out of the
+distance, giving the Call to Prayer. Other voices take it up and die
+out in distance; and Katharine would speak now, but pauses as the
+Angelus rings its mellow triples from the Dominican Monastery behind
+the Tombs of the Kings, and the Chapel in the garden of the Syrian
+Patriarch....
+
+She ends the little Latin prayer with the Sign of the Cross, and
+comes forward. Clouds of little dun insects like grasshoppers rise
+under her footsteps as she comes.... A tiny bird no bigger than a
+tit that is perched on the sick man's shoulder takes wing with a
+fluttering, silken sound. And a creature like a biggish mouse, with
+kangaroo-like hind legs, leaps away as Katharine comes to the side of
+the rickety bath-chair....
+
+She calls the man who sits in it, and he does not answer, but leans
+back against his pillow, staring fixedly before him with his hands
+upon his knees. The Arab _kuffiyeh_ partly hides his face, so
+changed since she last saw it. But she catches the jut of the great
+hooked nose, and the glitter of the stern black eyes....
+
+A cocksure woman is Katharine, who always thinks she is wanted. He
+does not speak, but she is quite sure he is glad that she has come....
+
+"John Hazel! Are you vexed with me for thrusting myself upon you? I
+had to come! ... I simply couldn't stay away! ... You do know why,
+truest of friends! ... To thank you--to bless you! For Edward and
+for me, and Julian!" The eager words come pouring out as she kneels
+beside the chair. "Dearest, best, bravest one--come back with us to
+England! ... I will nurse you,--you will,--you shall get well! There
+MUST be happiness and health for you--it couldn't be otherwise! ...
+Say you'll come, or I shall kiss you. My husband told me to! ..."
+
+She rises to her feet now and leans over him smiling, with a
+womanly-tender impulse to hug him to her breast. Her warm, sweet arm
+goes round the man's great neck, her pure breath fans his forehead.
+Her lips touch the scarred cheek--and the truth comes home to her.
+
+That longed-for kiss has come too late for the last of the Hazaëls.
+He leaves it as his legacy to a new Keeper of the Shrine. The little
+boy who is to be, with eyes like his mother's.... The son of Yaill
+and Katharine--whose Christian name is John.
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75518 ***