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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/8727-0.txt b/8727-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..905aae4 --- /dev/null +++ b/8727-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8174 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Galley, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Last Galley + Impressions and Tales + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Posting Date: March 11, 2009 [EBook #8727] +Release Date: August, 2005 +Last Updated: September 30, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST GALLEY *** + + + + +Produced by Lionel G. Sear + + + + + +THE LAST GALLEY + +IMPRESSIONS AND TALES + +By Arthur Conan Doyle + + + + +PREFACE + + + +I have written “Impressions and Tales” upon the title-page of this +volume, because I have included within the same cover two styles of work +which present an essential difference. + +The second half of the collection consists of eight stories, which +explain themselves. + +The first half is made up of a series of pictures of the past which +maybe regarded as trial flights towards a larger ideal which I have +long had in my mind. It has seemed to me that there is a region +between actual story and actual history which has never been adequately +exploited. I could imagine, for example, a work dealing with some great +historical epoch, and finding its interest not in the happenings to +particular individuals, their adventures and their loves, but in the +fascination of the actual facts of history themselves. These facts might +be coloured with the glamour which the writer of fiction can give, and +fictitious characters and conversations might illustrate them; but none +the less the actual drama of history and not the drama of invention +should claim the attention of the reader. I have been tempted sometimes +to try the effect upon a larger scale; but meanwhile these short +sketches, portraying various crises in the story of the human race, are +to be judged as experiments in that direction. + +ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. + +WINDLESHAM, CROWBOROUGH, April, 1911. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PART I + + THE LAST GALLEY + THE CONTEST THROUGH THE VEIL + AN ICONOCLAST + GIANT MAXIMIN + THE COMING OF THE HUNS + THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS + THE FIRST CARGO + THE HOME-COMING + THE RED STAR + + + + PART II + + THE SILVER MIRROR + THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY + THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER + THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE + OUT OF THE RUNNING + “DE PROFUNDIS” + THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR + THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP + + + + + +PART I. THE LAST GALLEY + + +“Mutato nomine, de te, Britannia, fabula narratur.” + +It was a spring morning, one hundred and forty-six years before the +coming of Christ. The North African Coast, with its broad hem of golden +sand, its green belt of feathery palm trees, and its background of +barren, red-scarped hills, shimmered like a dream country in the opal +light. Save for a narrow edge of snow-white surf, the Mediterranean lay +blue and serene as far as the eye could reach. In all its vast expanse +there was no break but for a single galley, which was slowly making its +way from the direction of Sicily and heading for the distant harbour of +Carthage. + +Seen from afar it was a stately and beautiful vessel, deep red in +colour, double-banked with scarlet oars, its broad, flapping sail +stained with Tyrian purple, its bulwarks gleaming with brass work. A +brazen, three-pronged ram projected in front, and a high golden figure +of Baal, the God of the Phoenicians, children of Canaan, shone upon the +after deck. From the single high mast above the huge sail streamed the +tiger-striped flag of Carthage. So, like some stately scarlet bird, with +golden beak and wings of purple, she swam upon the face of the waters--a +thing of might and of beauty as seen from the distant shore. + +But approach and look at her now! What are these dark streaks which foul +her white decks and dapple her brazen shields? Why do the long red oars +move out of time, irregular, convulsive? Why are some missing from the +staring portholes, some snapped with jagged, yellow edges, some trailing +inert against the side? Why are two prongs of the brazen ram twisted and +broken? See, even the high image of Baal is battered and disfigured! By +every sign this ship has passed through some grievous trial, some day of +terror, which has left its heavy marks upon her. + +And now stand upon the deck itself, and see more closely the men who man +her! There are two decks forward and aft, while in the open waist are +the double banks of seats, above and below, where the rowers, two to +an oar, tug and bend at their endless task. Down the centre is a narrow +platform, along which pace a line of warders, lash in hand, who cut +cruelly at the slave who pauses, be it only for an instant, to sweep the +sweat from his dripping brow. But these slaves--look at them! Some are +captured Romans, some Sicilians, many black Libyans, but all are in the +last exhaustion, their weary eyelids drooped over their eyes, their +lips thick with black crusts, and pink with bloody froth, their arms +and backs moving mechanically to the hoarse chant of the overseer. Their +bodies of all tints from ivory to jet, are stripped to the waist, and +every glistening back shows the angry stripes of the warders. But it is +not from these that the blood comes which reddens the seats and tints +the salt water washing beneath their manacled feet. Great gaping wounds, +the marks of sword slash and spear stab, show crimson upon their naked +chests and shoulders, while many lie huddled and senseless athwart the +benches, careless for ever of the whips which still hiss above them. Now +we can understand those empty portholes and those trailing oars. + +Nor were the crew in better case than their slaves. The decks were +littered with wounded and dying men. It was but a remnant who still +remained upon their feet. The most lay exhausted upon the fore-deck, +while a few of the more zealous were mending their shattered armour, +restringing their bows, or cleaning the deck from the marks of combat. +Upon a raised platform at the base of the mast stood the sailing-master +who conned the ship, his eyes fixed upon the distant point of Megara +which screened the eastern side of the Bay of Carthage. On the +after-deck were gathered a number of officers, silent and brooding, +glancing from time to time at two of their own class who stood apart +deep in conversation. The one, tall, dark, and wiry, with pure, Semitic +features, and the limbs of a giant, was Magro, the famous Carthaginian +captain, whose name was still a terror on every shore, from Gaul to +the Euxine. The other, a white-bearded, swarthy man, with indomitable +courage and energy stamped upon every eager line of his keen, aquiline +face, was Gisco the politician, a man of the highest Punic blood, a +Suffete of the purple robe, and the leader of that party in the State +which had watched and striven amid the selfishness and slothfulness of +his fellow-countrymen to rouse the public spirit and waken the public +conscience to the ever-increasing danger from Rome. As they talked, the +two men glanced continually, with earnest anxious faces, towards the +northern skyline. + +“It is certain,” said the older man, with gloom in his voice and +bearing, “none have escaped save ourselves.” + +“I did not leave the press of the battle whilst I saw one ship which I +could succour,” Magro answered. “As it was, we came away, as you saw, +like a wolf which has a hound hanging on to either haunch. The Roman +dogs can show the wolf-bites which prove it. Had any other galley won +clear, they would surely be with us by now, since they have no place of +safety save Carthage.” + +The younger warrior glanced keenly ahead to the distant point which +marked his native city. Already the low, leafy hill could be seen, +dotted with the white villas of the wealthy Phoenician merchants. Above +them, a gleaming dot against the pale blue morning sky, shone the brazen +roof of the citadel of Byrsa, which capped the sloping town. + +“Already they can see us from the watch-towers,” he remarked. “Even from +afar they may know the galley of Black Magro. But which of all of them +will guess that we alone remain of all that goodly fleet which sailed +out with blare of trumpet and roll of drum but one short month ago?” + +The patrician smiled bitterly. “If it were not for our great ancestors +and for our beloved country, the Queen of the Waters,” said he, “I could +find it in my heart to be glad at this destruction which has come upon +this vain and feeble generation. You have spent your life upon the seas, +Magro. You do not know of know how it has been with us on the land. But +I have seen this canker grow upon us which now leads us to our death. +I and others have gone down into the market-place to plead with the +people, and been pelted with mud for our pains. Many a time have +I pointed to Rome, and said, ‘Behold these people, who bear arms +themselves, each man for his own duty and pride. How can you who hide +behind mercenaries hope to stand against them?’--a hundred times I have +said it.” + +“And had they no answer?” asked the Rover. + +“Rome was far off and they could not see it, so to them it was nothing,” + the old man answered. “Some thought of trade, and some of votes, and +some of profits from the State, but none would see that the State +itself, the mother of all things, was sinking to her end. So might the +bees debate who should have wax or honey when the torch was blazing +which would bring to ashes the hive and all therein. ‘Are we not rulers +of the sea?’ ‘Was not Hannibal a great man?’ Such were their cries, +living ever in the past and blind to the future. Before that sun sets +there will be tearing of hair and rending of garments; what will that +now avail us?” + +“It is some sad comfort,” said Magro, “to know that what Rome holds she +cannot keep.” + +“Why say you that? When we go down, she is supreme in all the world.” + +“For a time, and only for a time,” Magro answered, gravely. “Yet you +will smile, perchance, when I tell you how it is that I know it. There +was a wise woman who lived in that part of the Tin Islands which juts +forth into the sea, and from her lips I have heard many things, but not +one which has not come aright. Of the fall of our own country, and even +of this battle, from which we now return, she told me clearly. There is +much strange lore amongst these savage peoples in the west of the land +of Tin.” + +“What said she of Rome?” + +“That she also would fall, even as we, weakened by her riches and her +factions.” + +Gisco rubbed his hands. “That at least makes our own fall less bitter,” + said he. “But since we have fallen, and Rome will fall, who in turn may +hope to be Queen of the Waters?” + +“That also I asked her,” said Magro, “and gave her my Tyrian belt with +the golden buckle as a guerdon for her answer. But, indeed, it was too +high payment for the tale she told, which must be false if all else she +said was true. She would have it that in coining days it was her own +land, this fog-girt isle where painted savages can scarce row a wicker +coracle from point to point, which shall at last take the trident which +Carthage and Rome have dropped.” + +The smile which flickered upon the old patrician’s keen features died +away suddenly, and his fingers closed upon his companion’s wrist. The +other had set rigid, his head advanced, his hawk eyes upon the northern +skyline. Its straight, blue horizon was broken by two low black dots. + +“Galleys!” whispered Gisco. + +The whole crew had seen them. They clustered along the starboard +bulwarks, pointing and chattering. For a moment the gloom of defeat was +lifted, and a buzz of joy ran from group to group at the thought that +they were not alone--that some one had escaped the great carnage as well +as themselves. + +“By the spirit of Baal,” said Black Magro, “I could not have believed +that any could have fought clear from such a welter. Could it be young +Hamilcar in the _Africa_, or is it Beneva in the blue Syrian ship? We +three with others may form a squadron and make head against them yet. If +we hold our course, they will join us ere we round the harbour mole.” + +Slowly the injured galley toiled on her way, and more swiftly the two +newcomers swept down from the north. Only a few miles off lay the +green point and the white houses which flanked the great African city. +Already, upon the headland, could be seen a dark group of waiting +townsmen. Gisco and Magro were still watching with puckered gaze the +approaching galleys, when the brown Libyan boatswain, with flashing +teeth and gleaming eyes, rushed upon the poop, his long thin arm +stabbing to the north. + +“Romans!” he cried. “Romans!” + +A hush had fallen over the great vessel. Only the wash of the water and +the measured rattle and beat of the oars broke in upon the silence. + +“By the horns of God’s altar, I believe the fellow is right!” cried old +Gisco. “See how they swoop upon us like falcons. They are full-manned +and full-oared.” + +“Plain wood, unpainted,” said Magro. “See how it gleams yellow where the +sun strikes it.” + +“And yonder thing beneath the mast. Is it not the cursed bridge they use +for boarding?” + +“So they grudge us even one,” said Magro with a bitter laugh. “Not even +one galley shall return to the old sea-mother. Well, for my part, I +would as soon have it so. I am of a mind to stop the oars and await +them.” + +“It is a man’s thought,” answered old Gisco; “but the city will need us +in the days to come. What shall it profit us to make the Roman victory +complete? Nay, Magro, let the slaves row as they never rowed before, not +for our own safety, but for the profit of the State.” + +So the great red ship laboured and lurched onwards, like a weary panting +stag which seeks shelter from his pursuers, while ever swifter and ever +nearer sped the two lean fierce galleys from the north. Already +the morning sun shone upon the lines of low Roman helmets above the +bulwarks, and glistened on the silver wave where each sharp prow shot +through the still blue water. Every moment the ships drew nearer, and +the long thin scream of the Roman trumpets grew louder upon the ear. + +Upon the high bluff of Megara there stood a great concourse of the +people of Carthage who had hurried forth from the city upon the news +that the galleys were in sight. They stood now, rich and poor, effete +and plebeian, white Phoenician and dark Kabyle, gazing with breathless +interest at the spectacle before them. Some hundreds of feet beneath +them the Punic galley had drawn so close that with their naked eyes +they could see those stains of battle which told their dismal tale. The +Romans, too, were heading in such a way that it was before their very +faces that their ship was about to be cut off; and yet of all this +multitude not one could raise a hand in its defence. Some wept in +impotent grief, some cursed with flashing eyes and knotted fists, some +on their knees held up appealing hands to Baal; but neither prayer, +tears, nor curses could undo the past nor mend the present. That broken, +crawling galley meant that their fleet was gone. Those two fierce +darting ships meant that the hands of Rome were already at their throat. +Behind them would come others and others, the innumerable trained hosts +of the great Republic, long mistress of the land, now dominant also +upon the waters. In a month, two months, three at the most, their armies +would be there, and what could all the untrained multitudes of Carthage +do to stop them? + +“Nay!” cried one, more hopeful than the rest, “at least we are brave men +with arms in our hands.” + +“Fool!” said another, “is it not such talk which has brought us to our +ruin? What is the brave man untrained to the brave man trained? When +you stand before the sweep and rush of a Roman legion you may learn the +difference.” + +“Then let us train!” + +“Too late! A full year is needful to turn a man to a soldier. Where +will you--where will your city be within the year? Nay, there is but one +chance for us. If we give up our commerce and our colonies, if we strip +ourselves of all that made us great, then perchance the Roman conqueror +may hold his hand.” + +And already the last sea-fight of Carthage was coming swiftly to an end +before them. Under their very eyes the two Roman galleys had shot in, +one on either side of the vessel of Black Magro. They had grappled with +him, and he, desperate in his despair, had cast the crooked flukes of +his anchors over their gunwales, and bound them to him in an iron +grip, whilst with hammer and crowbar he burst great holes in his own +sheathing. The last Punic galley should never be rowed into Ostia, a +sight for the holiday-makers of Rome. She would lie in her own waters. +And the fierce, dark soul of her rover captain glowed as he thought that +not alone should she sink into the depths of the mother sea. + +Too late did the Romans understand the man with whom they had to deal. +Their boarders who had flooded the Punic decks felt the planking sink +and sway beneath them. They rushed to gain their own vessels; but they, +too, were being drawn downwards, held in the dying grip of the great red +galley. Over they went and ever over. Now the deck of Magro’s ship is +flush with the water, and the Romans, drawn towards it by the iron bonds +which held them, are tilted downwards, one bulwark upon the waves, one +reared high in the air. Madly they strain to cast off the death grip +of the galley. She is under the surface now, and ever swifter, with +the greater weight, the Roman ships heel after her. There is a rending +crash. The wooden side is torn out of one, and mutilated, dismembered, +she rights herself, and lies a helpless thing upon the water. But a last +yellow gleam in the blue water shows where her consort has been dragged +to her end in the iron death-grapple of her foemen. The tiger-striped +flag of Carthage has sunk beneath the swirling surface, never more to be +seen upon the face of the sea. + +For in that year a great cloud hung for seventeen days over the African +coast, a deep black cloud which was the dark shroud of the burning city. +And when the seventeen days were over, Roman ploughs were driven from +end to end of the charred ashes, and salt was scattered there as a sign +that Carthage should be no more. And far off a huddle of naked, starving +folk stood upon the distant mountains, and looked down upon the desolate +plain which had once been the fairest and richest upon earth. And they +understood too late that it is the law of heaven that the world is given +to the hardy and to the self-denying, whilst he who would escape the +duties of manhood will soon be stripped of the pride, the wealth, and +the power, which are the prizes which manhood brings. + + + + +THE CONTEST. + + +In the year of our Lord 66, the Emperor Nero, being at that time in the +twenty-ninth year of his life and the thirteenth of his reign, set sail +for Greece with the strangest company and the most singular design that +any monarch has ever entertained. With ten galleys he went forth +from Puteoli, carrying with him great stores of painted scenery and +theatrical properties, together with a number of knights and senators, +whom he feared to leave behind him at Rome, and who were all marked for +death in the course of his wanderings. In his train he took Natus, his +singing coach; Cluvius, a man with a monstrous voice, who should bawl +out his titles; and a thousand trained youths who had learned to applaud +in unison whenever their master sang or played in public. So deftly had +they been taught that each had his own role to play. Some did no more +than give forth a low deep hum of speechless appreciation. Some clapped +with enthusiasm. Some, rising from approbation into absolute frenzy, +shrieked, stamped, and beat sticks upon the benches. Some--and they +were the most effective--had learned from an Alexandrian a long droning +musical note which they all uttered together, so that it boomed over the +assembly. With the aid of these mercenary admirers, Nero had every hope, +in spite of his indifferent voice and clumsy execution, to return +to Rome, bearing with him the chaplets for song offered for free +competition by the Greek cities. As his great gilded galley with two +tiers of oars passed down the Mediterranean, the Emperor sat in his +cabin all day, his teacher by his side, rehearsing from morning to +night those compositions which he had selected, whilst every few hours +a Nubian slave massaged the Imperial throat with oil and balsam, that it +might be ready for the great ordeal which lay before it in the land of +poetry and song. His food, his drink, and his exercise were prescribed +for him as for an athlete who trains for a contest, and the twanging of +his lyre, with the strident notes of his voice, resounded continually +from the Imperial quarters. + +Now it chanced that there lived in those days a Grecian goatherd named +Policles, who tended and partly owned a great flock which grazed upon +the long flanks of the hills near Heroea, which is five miles north of +the river Alpheus, and no great distance from the famous Olympia. This +person was noted all over the countryside as a man of strange gifts and +singular character. He was a poet who had twice been crowned for his +verses, and he was a musician to whom the use and sound of an instrument +were so natural that one would more easily meet him without his staff +than his harp. Even in his lonely vigils on the winter hills he would +bear it always slung over his shoulder, and would pass the long hours +by its aid, so that it had come to be part of his very self. He was +beautiful also, swarthy and eager, with a head like Adonis, and in +strength there was no one who could compete with him. But all was +ruined by his disposition, which was so masterful that he would brook +no opposition nor contradiction. For this reason he was continually at +enmity with all his neighbours, and in his fits of temper he would spend +months at a time in his stone hut among the mountains, hearing nothing +from the world, and living only for his music and his goats. + +One spring morning, in the year of 67, Policles, with the aid of his +boy Dorus, had driven his goats over to a new pasturage which overlooked +from afar the town of Olympia. Gazing down upon it from the mountain, +the shepherd was surprised to see that a portion of the famous +amphitheatre had been roofed in, as though some performance was being +enacted. Living far from the world and from all news, Policles could +not imagine what was afoot, for he was well aware that the Grecian +games were not due for two years to come. Surely some poetic or musical +contest must be proceeding of which he had heard nothing. If so, there +would perhaps be some chance of his gaining the votes of the judges; and +in any case he loved to hear the compositions and admire the execution +of the great minstrels who assembled on such an occasion. Calling to +Dorus, therefore, he left the goats to his charge, and strode swiftly +away, his harp upon his back, to see what was going forward in the town. + +When Policles came into the suburbs, he found them deserted; but he was +still more surprised when he reached the main street to see no single +human being in the place. He hastened his steps, therefore, and as he +approached the theatre he was conscious of a low sustained hum which +announced the concourse of a huge assembly. Never in all his dreams had +he imagined any musical competition upon so vast a scale as this. There +were some soldiers clustering outside the door; but Policles pushed his +way swiftly through them, and found himself upon the outskirts of the +multitude who filled the great space formed by roofing over a portion of +the national stadium. Looking around him, Policles saw a great number of +his neighbours, whom he knew by sight, tightly packed upon the benches, +all with their eyes fixed upon the stage. He also observed that there +were soldiers round the walls, and that a considerable part of the hall +was filled by a body of youths of foreign aspect, with white gowns +and long hair. All this he perceived; but what it meant he could not +imagine. He bent over to a neighbour to ask him, but a soldier prodded +him at once with the butt end of his spear, and commanded him fiercely +to hold his peace. The man whom he had addressed, thinking that Policles +had demanded a seat, pressed closer to his neighbour, and so the +shepherd found himself sitting at the end of the bench which was nearest +to the door. Thence he concentrated himself upon the stage, on which +Metas, a well-known minstrel from Corinth and an old friend of Policles, +was singing and playing without much encouragement from the audience. +To Policles it seemed that Metas was having less than his due, so he +applauded loudly, but he was surprised to observe that the soldiers +frowned at him, and that all his neighbours regarded him with some +surprise. Being a man of strong and obstinate character, he was the more +inclined to persevere in his clapping when he perceived that the general +sentiment was against him. + +But what followed filled the shepherd poet with absolute amazement. +When Metas of Corinth had made his bow and withdrawn to half-hearted and +perfunctory applause, there appeared upon the stage, amid the wildest +enthusiasm upon the part of the audience, a most extraordinary figure. +He was a short fat man, neither old nor young, with a bull neck and a +round, heavy face, which hung in creases in front like the dewlap of an +ox. He was absurdly clad in a short blue tunic, braced at the waist +with a golden belt. His neck and part of his chest were exposed, and his +short, fat legs were bare from the buskins below to the middle of his +thighs, which was as far as his tunic extended. In his hair were two +golden wings, and the same upon his heels, after the fashion of the +god Mercury. Behind him walked a negro bearing a harp, and beside him +a richly dressed officer who bore rolls of music. This strange creature +took the harp from the hands of the attendant, and advanced to the front +of the stage, whence he bowed and smiled to the cheering audience. “This +is some foppish singer from Athens,” thought Policles to himself, but +at the same time he understood that only a great master of song could +receive such a reception from a Greek audience. This was evidently some +wonderful performer whose reputation had preceded him. Policles settled +down, therefore, and prepared to give his soul up to the music. + +The blue-clad player struck several chords upon his lyre, and then burst +suddenly out into the “Ode of Niobe.” Policles sat straight up on his +bench and gazed at the stage in amazement. The tune demanded a rapid +transition from a low note to a high, and had been purposely chosen for +this reason. The low note was a grunting, a rumble, the deep discordant +growling of an ill-conditioned dog. Then suddenly the singer threw up +his face, straightened his tubby figure, rose upon his tiptoes, and +with wagging head and scarlet cheeks emitted such a howl as the same dog +might have given had his growl been checked by a kick from his master. +All the while the lyre twanged and thrummed, sometimes in front of and +sometimes behind the voice of the singer. But what amazed Policles most +of all was the effect of this performance upon the audience. Every Greek +was a trained critic, and as unsparing in his hisses as he was lavish +in his applause. Many a singer far better than this absurd fop had been +driven amid execration and abuse from the platform. But now, as the +man stopped and wiped the abundant sweat from his fat face, the whole +assembly burst into a delirium of appreciation. The shepherd held his +hands to his bursting head, and felt that his reason must be leaving +him. It was surely a dreadful musical nightmare, and he would wake soon +and laugh at the remembrance. But no; the figures were real, the faces +were those of his neighbours, the cheers which resounded in his ears +were indeed from an audience which filled the theatre of Olympia. +The whole chorus was in full blast, the hummers humming, the shouters +bellowing, the tappers hard at work upon the benches, while every now +and then came a musical cyclone of “Incomparable! Divine!” from the +trained phalanx who intoned their applause, their united voices sweeping +over the tumult as the drone of the wind dominates the roar of the sea. +It was madness--insufferable madness! If this were allowed to pass, +there was an end of all musical justice in Greece. Policles’ conscience +would not permit him to be still. Standing upon his bench with waving +hands and upraised voice, he protested with all the strength of his +lungs against the mad judgment of the audience. + +At first, amid the tumult, his action was hardly noticed. His voice was +drowned in the universal roar which broke out afresh at each bow and +smirk from the fatuous musician. But gradually the folk round Policles +ceased clapping, and stared at him in astonishment. The silence grew in +ever widening circles, until the whole great assembly sat mute, staring +at this wild and magnificent creature who was storming at them from his +perch near the door. + +“Fools!” he cried. “What are you clapping at? What are you cheering? Is +this what you call music? Is this cat-calling to earn an Olympian prize? +The fellow has not a note in his voice. You are either deaf or mad, and +I for one cry shame upon you for your folly.” + +Soldiers ran to pull him down, and the whole audience was in confusion, +some of the bolder cheering the sentiments of the shepherd, and others +crying that he should be cast out of the building. Meanwhile the +successful singer having handed his lyre to his negro attendant, was +inquiring from those around him on the stage as to the cause of the +uproar. Finally a herald with an enormously powerful voice stepped +forward to the front and proclaimed that if the foolish person at the +back of the hall, who appeared to differ from the opinion of the rest +of the audience, would come forward upon the platform, he might, if he +dared, exhibit his own powers, and see if he could outdo the admirable +and wonderful exhibition which they had just had the privilege of +hearing. + +Policles sprang readily to his feet at the challenge, and the great +company making way for him to pass, he found himself a minute later +standing in his unkempt garb, with his frayed and weather-beaten harp in +his hand, before the expectant crowd. He stood for a moment tightening +a string here and slackening another there until his chords rang +true. Then, amid a murmur of laughter and jeers from the Roman benches +immediately before him, he began to sing. + +He had prepared no composition, but he had trained himself to improvise, +singing out of his heart for the joy of the music. He told of the land +of Elis, beloved of Jupiter, in which they were gathered that day, of +the great bare mountain slopes, of the swift shadows of the clouds, of +the winding blue river, of the keen air of the uplands, of the chill of +the evenings, and the beauties of earth and sky. It was all simple and +childlike, but it went to the hearts of the Olympians, for it spoke +of the land which they knew and loved. Yet when he at last dropped his +hand, few of them dared to applaud, and their feeble voices were drowned +by a storm of hisses and groans from his opponents. He shrank back in +horror from so unusual a reception, and in an instant his blue-clad +rival was in his place. If he had sung badly before, his performance +now was inconceivable. His screams, his grunts, his discords, and harsh +jarring cacophanies were an outrage to the very name of music. And yet +every time that he paused for breath or to wipe his streaming forehead a +fresh thunder of applause came rolling back from the audience. Policles +sank his face in his hands and prayed that he might not be insane. +Then, when the dreadful performance ceased, and the uproar of admiration +showed that the crown was certainly awarded to this impostor, a horror +of the audience, a hatred of this race of fools, and a craving for the +peace and silence of the pastures mastered every feeling in his mind. He +dashed through the mass of people waiting at the wings, and emerged +in the open air. His old rival and friend Metas of Corinth was waiting +there with an anxious face. + +“Quick, Policles, quick!” he cried. “My pony is tethered behind yonder +grove. A grey he is, with red trappings. Get you gone as hard as hoof +will bear you, for if you are taken you will have no easy death.” + +“No easy death! What mean you, Metas? Who is the fellow?” + +“Great Jupiter! did you not know? Where have you lived? It is Nero +the Emperor! Never would he pardon what you have said about his voice. +Quick, man, quick, or the guards will be at your heels!” + +An hour later the shepherd was well on his way to his mountain home, and +about the same time the Emperor, having received the Chaplet of Olympia +for the incomparable excellence of his performance, was making inquiries +with a frowning brow as to who the insolent person might be who had +dared to utter such contemptuous criticisms. + +“Bring him to me here this instant,” said he, “and let Marcus with his +knife and branding-iron be in attendance.” + +“If it please you, great Caesar,” said Arsenius Platus, the officer of +attendance, “the man cannot be found, and there are some very strange +rumours flying about.” + +“Rumours!” cried the angry Nero. “What do you mean, Arsenius? I tell you +that the fellow was an ignorant upstart, with the bearing of a boor and +the voice of a peacock. I tell you also that there are a good many who +are as guilty as he among the people, for I heard them with my own ears +raise cheers for him when he had sung his ridiculous ode. I have half +a mind to burn their town about their ears so that they may remember my +visit.” + +“It is not to be wondered at if he won their votes, Caesar,” said the +soldier, “for from what I hear it would have been no disgrace had you, +even you, been conquered in this conquest.” + +“I conquered! You are mad, Arsenius. What do you mean?” + +“None know him, great Caesar! He came from the mountains, and he +disappeared into the mountains. You marked the wildness and strange +beauty of his face. It is whispered that for once the great god Pan has +condescended to measure himself against a mortal.” + +The cloud cleared from Nero’s brow. “Of course, Arsenius! You are right! +No man would have dared to brave me so. What a story for Rome! Let +the messenger leave this very night, Arsenius, to tell them how their +Emperor has upheld their honour in Olympia this day.” + + + + +THROUGH THE VEIL. + + +He was a great shock-headed, freckle-faced Borderer, the lineal +descendant of a cattle-thieving clan in Liddesdale. In spite of his +ancestry he was as solid and sober a citizen as one would wish to see, a +town councillor of Melrose, an elder of the Church, and the chairman of +the local branch of the Young Men’s Christian Association. Brown was his +name--and you saw it printed up as “Brown and Handiside” over the +great grocery stores in the High Street. His wife, Maggie Brown, was an +Armstrong before her marriage, and came from an old farming stock in +the wilds of Teviothead. She was small, swarthy, and dark-eyed, with a +strangely nervous temperament for a Scotch woman. No greater contrast +could be found than the big tawny man and the dark little woman; but +both were of the soil as far back as any memory could extend. + +One day--it was the first anniversary of their wedding--they had driven +over together to see the excavations of the Roman Fort at Newstead. It +was not a particularly picturesque spot. From the northern bank of the +Tweed, just where the river forms a loop, there extends a gentle slope +of arable land. Across it run the trenches of the excavators, with here +and there an exposure of old stonework to show the foundations of the +ancient walls. It had been a huge place, for the camp was fifty acres +in extent, and the fort fifteen. However, it was all made easy for them +since Mr. Brown knew the farmer to whom the land belonged. Under his +guidance they spent a long summer evening inspecting the trenches, the +pits, the ramparts, and all the strange variety of objects which were +waiting to be transported to the Edinburgh Museum of Antiquities. The +buckle of a woman’s belt had been dug up that very day, and the farmer +was discoursing upon it when his eyes fell upon Mrs. Brown’s face. + +“Your good leddy’s tired,” said he. “Maybe you’d best rest a wee before +we gang further.” + +Brown looked at his wife. She was certainly very pale, and her dark eyes +were bright and wild. + +“What is it, Maggie? I’ve wearied you. I’m thinkin’ it’s time we went +back.” + +“No, no, John, let us go on. It’s wonderful! It’s like a dreamland +place. It all seems so close and so near to me. How long were the Romans +here, Mr. Cunningham?” + +“A fair time, mam. If you saw the kitchen midden-pits you would guess it +took a long time to fill them.” + +“And why did they leave?” + +“Well, mam, by all accounts they left because they had to. The folk +round could thole them no longer, so they just up and burned the fort +aboot their lugs. You can see the fire marks on the stanes.” + +The woman gave a quick little shudder. “A wild night--a fearsome night,” + said she. “The sky must have been red that night--and these grey stones, +they may have been red also.” + +“Aye, I think they were red,” said her husband. “It’s a queer thing, +Maggie, and it may be your words that have done it; but I seem to see +that business aboot as clear as ever I saw anything in my life. The +light shone on the water.” + +“Aye, the light shone on the water. And the smoke gripped you by the +throat. And all the savages were yelling.” + +The old farmer began to laugh. “The leddy will be writin’ a story aboot +the old fort,” said he. “I’ve shown many a one over it, but I never +heard it put so clear afore. Some folk have the gift.” + +They had strolled along the edge of the foss, and a pit yawned upon the +right of them. + +“That pit was fourteen foot deep,” said the farmer. “What d’ye think we +dug oot from the bottom o’t? Weel, it was just the skeleton of a man wi’ +a spear by his side. I’m thinkin’ he was grippin’ it when he died. Now, +how cam’ a man wi’ a spear doon a hole fourteen foot deep? He wasna’ +buried there, for they aye burned their dead. What make ye o’ that, +mam?” + +“He sprang doon to get clear of the savages,” said the woman. + +“Weel, it’s likely enough, and a’ the professors from Edinburgh couldna +gie a better reason. I wish you were aye here, mam, to answer a’ oor +difficulties sae readily. Now, here’s the altar that we foond last week. +There’s an inscreeption. They tell me it’s Latin, and it means that the +men o’ this fort give thanks to God for their safety.” + +They examined the old worn stone. There was a large deeply-cut “VV” upon +the top of it. “What does ‘VV’ stand for?” asked Brown. + +“Naebody kens,” the guide answered. + +“_Valeria Victrix_,” said the lady softly. Her face was paler than ever, +her eyes far away, as one who peers down the dim aisles of overarching +centuries. + +“What’s that?” asked her husband sharply. + +She started as one who wakes from sleep. “What were we talking about?” + she asked. + +“About this ‘VV’ upon the stone.” + +“No doubt it was just the name of the Legion which put the altar up.” + +“Aye, but you gave some special name.” + +“Did I? How absurd! How should I ken what the name was?” + +“You said something--‘_Victrix_,’ I think.” + +“I suppose I was guessing. It gives me the queerest feeling, this place, +as if I were not myself, but someone else.” + +“Aye, it’s an uncanny place,” said her husband, looking round with an +expression almost of fear in his bold grey eyes. “I feel it mysel’. I +think we’ll just be wishin’ you good evenin’, Mr. Cunningham, and get +back to Melrose before the dark sets in.” + +Neither of them could shake off the strange impression which had been +left upon them by their visit to the excavations. It was as if some +miasma had risen from those damp trenches and passed into their blood. +All the evening they were silent and thoughtful, but such remarks as +they did make showed that the same subject was in the minds of each. +Brown had a restless night, in which he dreamed a strange connected +dream, so vivid that he woke sweating and shivering like a frightened +horse. He tried to convey it all to his wife as they sat together at +breakfast in the morning. + +“It was the clearest thing, Maggie,” said he. “Nothing that has ever +come to me in my waking life has been more clear than that. I feel as if +these hands were sticky with blood.” + +“Tell me of it--tell me slow,” said she. + +“When it began, I was oot on a braeside. I was laying flat on the +ground. It was rough, and there were clumps of heather. All round me +was just darkness, but I could hear the rustle and the breathin’ of men. +There seemed a great multitude on every side of me, but I could see +no one. There was a low chink of steel sometimes, and then a number of +voices would whisper ‘Hush!’ I had a ragged club in my hand, and it had +spikes o’ iron near the end of it. My heart was beatin’ quickly, and I +felt that a moment of great danger and excitement was at hand. Once I +dropped my club, and again from all round me the voices in the darkness +cried, ‘Hush!’ I put oot my hand, and it touched the foot of another +man lying in front of me. There was some one at my very elbow on either +side. But they said nothin’. + +“Then we all began to move. The whole braeside seemed to be crawlin’ +downwards. There was a river at the bottom and a high-arched wooden +bridge. Beyond the bridge were many lights--torches on a wall. The +creepin’ men all flowed towards the bridge. There had been no sound +of any kind, just a velvet stillness. And then there was a cry in the +darkness, the cry of a man who has been stabbed suddenly to the hairt. +That one cry swelled out for a moment, and then the roar of a thoosand +furious voices. I was runnin’. Every one was runnin’. A bright red light +shone out, and the river was a scarlet streak. I could see my companions +now. They were more like devils than men, wild figures clad in skins, +with their hair and beards streamin’. They were all mad with rage, +jumpin’ as they ran, their mouths open, their arms wavin’, the red light +beatin’ on their faces. I ran, too, and yelled out curses like the rest. +Then I heard a great cracklin’ of wood, and I knew that the palisades +were doon. There was a loud whistlin’ in my ears, and I was aware that +arrows were flyin’ past me. I got to the bottom of a dyke, and I saw a +hand stretched doon from above. I took it, and was dragged to the top. +We looked doon, and there were silver men beneath us holdin’ up their +spears. Some of our folk sprang on to the spears. Then we others +followed, and we killed the soldiers before they could draw the spears +oot again. They shouted loud in some foreign tongue, but no mercy was +shown them. We went ower them like a wave, and trampled them doon into +the mud, for they were few, and there was no end to our numbers. + +“I found myself among buildings, and one of them was on fire. I saw the +flames spoutin’ through the roof. I ran on, and then I was alone among +the buildings. Some one ran across in front o’ me. It was a woman. I +caught her by the arm, and I took her chin and turned her face so as the +light of the fire would strike it. Whom think you that it was, Maggie?” + +His wife moistened her dry lips. “It was I,” she said. + +He looked at her in surprise. “That’s a good guess,” said he. “Yes, +it was just you. Not merely like you, you understand. It was you--you +yourself. I saw the same soul in your frightened eyes. You looked white +and bonny and wonderful in the firelight. I had just one thought in my +head--to get you awa’ with me; to keep you all to mysel’ in my own home +somewhere beyond the hills. You clawed at my face with your nails. I +heaved you over my shoulder, and I tried to find a way oot of the light +of the burning hoose and back into the darkness. + +“Then came the thing that I mind best of all. You’re ill, Maggie. Shall +I stop? My God! You nave the very look on your face that you had last +night in my dream. You screamed. He came runnin’ in the firelight. His +head was bare; his hair was black and curled; he had a naked sword in +his hand, short and broad, little more than a dagger. He stabbed at me, +but he tripped and fell. I held you with one hand, and with the other--” + +His wife had sprung to her feet with writhing features. + +“Marcus!” she cried. “My beautiful Marcus! Oh, you brute! you brute! you +brute!” There was a clatter of tea-cups as she fell forward senseless +upon the table. + +They never talk about that strange isolated incident in their married +life. For an instant the curtain of the past had swung aside, and some +strange glimpse of a forgotten life had come to them. But it closed +down, never to open again. They live their narrow round--he in his shop, +she in her household--and yet new and wider horizons have vaguely formed +themselves around them since that summer evening by the crumbling Roman +fort. + + + + +AN ICONOCLAST. + + +It was daybreak of a March morning in the year of Christ 92. Outside +the long Semita Alta was already thronged with people, with buyers and +sellers, callers and strollers, for the Romans were so early-rising a +people that many a Patrician preferred to see his clients at six in the +morning. Such was the good republican tradition, still upheld by the +more conservative; but with more modern habits of luxury, a night of +pleasure and banqueting was no uncommon thing. Thus one, who had learned +the new and yet adhered to the old, might find his hours overlap, and +without so much as a pretence of sleep come straight from his night of +debauch into his day of business, turning with heavy wits and an aching +head to that round of formal duties which consumed the life of a Roman +gentleman. + +So it was with Emilius Flaccus that March morning. He and his fellow +senator, Caius Balbus, had passed the night in one of those gloomy +drinking bouts to which the Emperor Domitian summoned his chosen friends +at the high palace on the Palatine. Now, having reached the portals of +the house of Flaccus, they stood together under the pomegranate-fringed +portico which fronted the peristyle and, confident in each other’s tried +discretion, made up by the freedom of their criticism for their long +self-suppression of that melancholy feast. + +“If he would but feed his guests,” said Balbus, a little red-faced, +choleric nobleman with yellow-shot angry eyes. “What had we? Upon my +life, I have forgotten. Plovers’ eggs, a mess of fish, some bird or +other, and then his eternal apples.” + +“Of which,” said Flaccus, “he ate only the apples. Do him the justice to +confess that he takes even less than he gives. At least they cannot say +of him as of Vitellius, that his teeth beggared the empire.” + +“No, nor his thirst either, great as it is. That fiery Sabine wine of +his could be had for a few sesterces the amphora. It is the common drink +of the carters at every wine-house on the country roads. I longed for +a glass of my own rich Falernian or the mellow Coan that was bottled in +the year that Titus took Jerusalem. Is it even now too late? Could we +not wash this rasping stuff from our palates?” + +“Nay, better come in with me now and take a bitter draught ere you go +upon your way. My Greek physician Stephanos has a rare prescription for +a morning head. What! Your clients await you? Well, I will see you later +at the Senate house.” + +The Patrician had entered his atrium, bright with rare flowers, and +melodious with strange singing birds. At the jaws of the hall, true to +his morning duties, stood Lebs, the little Nubian slave, with snow-white +tunic and turban, a salver of glasses in one hand, whilst in the other +he held a flask of a thin lemon-tinted liquid. The master of the house +filled up a bitter aromatic bumper, and was about to drink it off, when +his hand was arrested by a sudden perception that something was much +amiss in his household. It was to be read all around him--in the +frightened eyes of the black boy, in the agitated face of the keeper of +the atrium, in the gloom and silence of the little knot of ordinarii, +the procurator or major-domo at their head, who had assembled to greet +their master. Stephanos the physician, Cleios the Alexandrine reader, +Promus the steward each turned his head away to avoid his master’s +questioning gaze. + +“What in the name of Pluto is the matter with you all?” cried the amazed +senator, whose night of potations had left him in no mood for patience. +“Why do you stand moping there? Stephanos, Vacculus--is anything amiss? +Here, Promus, you are the head of my household. What is it, then? Why do +you turn your eyes away from me?” + +The burly steward, whose fat face was haggard and mottled with anxiety, +laid his hand upon the sleeve of the domestic beside him. + +“Sergius is responsible for the atrium, my lord. It is for him to tell +you the terrible thing that has befallen in your absence.” + +“Nay, it was Datus who did it. Bring him in, and let him explain it +himself,” said Sergius in a sulky voice. + +The patience of the Patrician was at an end. “Speak this instant, +you rascal!” he shouted angrily. “Another minute, and I will have you +dragged to the ergastulum, where, with your feet in the stocks and the +gyves round your wrists, you may learn quicker obedience. Speak, I say, +and without delay.” + +“It is the Venus,” the man stammered; “the Greek Venus of Praxiteles.” + +The senator gave a cry of apprehension and rushed to the corner of the +atrium, where a little shrine, curtained off by silken drapery, held the +precious statue, the greatest art treasure of his collection--perhaps +of the whole world. He tore the hangings aside and stood in speechless +anger before the outraged goddess. The red perfumed lamp which always +burned before her had been spilled and broken; her altar fire had +been quenched, her chaplet had been dashed aside. But worst of +all--insufferable sacrilege!--her own beautiful nude body of glistening +Pantelic marble, as white and fair as when the inspired Greek had hewed +it out five hundred years before, had been most brutally mishandled. +Three fingers of the gracious outstretched hand had been struck off, and +lay upon the pedestal beside her. Above her delicate breast a dark mark +showed, where a blow had disfigured the marble. Emilius Flaccus, the +most delicate and judicious connoisseur in Rome, stood gasping and +croaking, his hand to his throat, as he gazed at his disfigured +masterpiece. Then he turned upon his slaves, his fury in his convulsed +face; but, to his amazement, they were not looking at him, but had +all turned in attitudes of deep respect towards the opening of the +peristyle. As he faced round and saw who had just entered his house, +his own rage fell away from him in an instant, and his manner became as +humble as that of his servants. + +The newcomer was a man forty-three years of age, clean shaven, with a +massive head, large engorged eyes, a small clear-cut nose, and the +full bull neck which was the especial mark of his breed. He had entered +through the peristyle with a swaggering, rolling gait, as one who walks +upon his own ground, and now he stood, his hands upon his hips, looking +round him at the bowing slaves, and finally at their master, with a +half-humorous expression upon his flushed and brutal face. + +“Why, Emilius,” said he, “I had understood that your household was the +best-ordered in Rome. What is amiss with you this morning?” + +“Nothing could be amiss with us now that Caesar has deigned to come +under my roof,” said the courtier. “This is indeed a most glad surprise +which you have prepared for me.” + +“It was an afterthought,” said Domitian. “When you and the others had +left me, I was in no mood for sleep, and so it came into my mind that +I would have a breath of morning air by coming down to you, and seeing +this Grecian Venus of yours, about which you discoursed so eloquently +between the cups. But, indeed, by your appearance and that of your +servants, I should judge that my visit was an ill-timed one.” + +“Nay, dear master; say not so. But, indeed, it is truth that I was in +trouble at the moment of your welcome entrance, and this trouble was, as +the Fates have willed it, brought forth by that very statue in which you +have been graciously pleased to show your interest. There it stands, and +you can see for yourself how rudely it has been mishandled.” + +“By Pluto and all the nether gods, if it were mine some of you should +feed the lampreys,” said the Emperor, looking round with his fierce eyes +at the shrinking slaves. “You were always overmerciful, Emilius. It is +the common talk that your catenoe are rusted for want of use. But surely +this is beyond all bounds. Let me see how you handle the matter. Whom do +you hold responsible?” + +“The slave Sergius is responsible, since it is his place to tend the +atrium,” said Flaccus. “Stand forward, Sergius. What have you to say?” + +The trembling slave advanced to his master. “If it please you, sir, the +mischief has been done by Datus the Christian.” + +“Datus! Who is he?” + +“The matulator, the scavenger, my lord. I did not know that he belonged +to these horrible people, or I should not have admitted him. He came +with his broom to brush out the litter of the birds. His eyes fell upon +the Venus, and in an instant he had rushed upon her and struck her two +blows with his wooden besom. Then we fell upon him and dragged him away. +But alas! alas! it was too late, for already the wretch had dashed off +the fingers of the goddess.” + +The Emperor smiled grimly, while the Patrician’s thin face grew pale +with anger. + +“Where is the fellow?” he asked. + +“In the ergastulum, your honour, with the furca on his neck.” + +“Bring him hither and summon the household.” + +A few minutes later the whole back of the atrium was thronged by the +motley crowd who ministered to the household needs of a great Roman +nobleman. There was the arcarius, or account keeper, with his stylum +behind his ear; the sleek praegustator, who sampled all foods, so as to +stand between his master and poison, and beside him his predecessor, now +a half-witted idiot through the interception twenty years before of a +datura draught from Canidia; the cellarman, summoned from amongst his +amphorae; the cook, with his basting-ladle in his hand; the pompous +nomenclator, who ushered the guests; the cubicularius, who saw to +their accommodation; the silentiarius, who kept order in the house; the +structor, who set forth the tables; the carptor, who carved the food; +the cinerarius, who lit the fires--these and many more, half-curious, +half-terrified, came to the judging of Datus. Behind them a chattering, +giggling swarm of Lalages, Marias, Cerusas, and Amaryllides, from the +laundries and the spinning-rooms, stood upon their tiptoes and extended +their pretty wondering faces over the shoulders of the men. Through this +crowd came two stout varlets leading the culprit between them. He was a +small, dark, rough-headed man, with an unkempt beard and wild eyes which +shone, brightly with strong inward emotion. His hands were bound behind +him, and over his neck was the heavy wooden collar or furca which was +placed upon refractory slaves. A smear of blood across his cheek showed +that he had not come uninjured from the preceding scuffle. + +“Are you Datus the scavenger?” asked the Patrician. + +The man drew himself up proudly. “Yes,” said he, “I am Datus.” + +“Did you do this injury to my statue?” + +“Yes, I did.” + +There was an uncompromising boldness in the man’s reply which compelled +respect. The wrath of his master became tinged with interest. + +“Why did you do this?” he asked. + +“Because it was my duty.” + +“Why, then, was it your duty to destroy your master’s property?” + +“Because I am a Christian.” His eyes blazed suddenly out of his dark +face. “Because there is no God but the one eternal, and all else are +sticks and stones. What has this naked harlot to do with Him to whom the +great firmament is but a garment and the earth a footstool? It was in +His service that I have broken your statue.” + +Domitian looked with a smile at the Patrician. “You will make nothing of +him,” said he. “They speak even so when they stand before the lions in +the arena. As to argument, not all the philosophers of Rome can break +them down. Before my very face they refuse to sacrifice in my honour. +Never were such impossible people to deal with. I should take a short +way with him if I were you.” + +“What would Caesar advise?” + +“There are the games this afternoon. I am showing the new +hunting-leopard which King Juba has sent from Numidia. This slave +may give us some sport when he finds the hungry beast sniffing at his +heels.” + +The Patrician considered for a moment. He had always been a father to +his servants. It was hateful to him to think of any injury befalling +them. Perhaps even now, if this strange fanatic would show his sorrow +for what he had done, it might be possible to spare him. At least it was +worth trying. + +“Your offence deserves death,” he said. “What reasons can you give why +it should not befall you, since you have injured this statue, which is +worth your own price a hundred times over?” + +The slave looked steadfastly at his master. “I do not fear death,” he +said. “My sister Candida died in the arena, and I am ready to do the +same. It is true that I have injured your statue, but I am able to find +you something of far greater value in exchange. I will give you the +truth and the gospel in exchange for your broken idol.” + +The Emperor laughed. “You will do nothing with him, Emilius,” he said. +“I know his breed of old. He is ready to die; he says so himself. Why +save him, then?” + +But the Patrician still hesitated. He would make a last effort. + +“Throw off his bonds,” he said to the guards. “Now take the furca off +his neck. So! Now, Datus, I have released you to show you that I trust +you. I have no wish to do you any hurt if you will but acknowledge your +error, and so set a better example to my household here assembled.” + +“How, then, shall I acknowledge my error?” the slave asked. + +“Bow your head before the goddess, and entreat her forgiveness for +the violence you have done her. Then perhaps you may gain my pardon as +well.” + +“Put me, then, before her,” said the Christian. + +Emilius Flaccus looked triumphantly at Domitian. By kindness and tact he +was effecting that which the Emperor had failed to do by violence. Datus +walked in front of the mutilated Venus. Then with a sudden spring he +tore the baton out of the hand of one of his guardians, leaped upon the +pedestal, and showered his blows upon the lovely marble woman. With +a crack and a dull thud her right arm dropped to the ground. Another +fierce blow and the left had followed. Flaccus danced and screamed +with horror, while his servants dragged the raving iconoclast from his +impassive victim. Domitian’s brutal laughter echoed through the hall. + +“Well, friend, what think you now?” he cried. “Are you wiser than your +Emperor? Can you indeed tame your Christian with kindness?” + +Emilius Flaccus wiped the sweat from his brow. “He is yours, great +Caesar. Do with him as you will.” + +“Let him be at the gladiators’ entrance of the circus an hour before +the games begin,” said the Emperor. “Now, Emilius, the night has been a +merry one. My Ligurian galley waits by the river quay. Come, cool your +head with a spin to Ostia ere the business of State calls you to the +Senate.” + + + + +GIANT MAXIMIN. + + + + +I THE COMING OF MAXIMIN + + +Many are the strange vicissitudes of history. Greatness has often sunk +to the dust, and has tempered itself to its new surrounding. Smallness +has risen aloft, has flourished for a time, and then has sunk once more. +Rich monarchs have become poor monks, brave conquerors have lost their +manhood, eunuchs and women have overthrown armies and kingdoms. Surely +there is no situation which the mind of man can invent which has not +taken shape and been played out upon the world stage. But of all the +strange careers and of all the wondrous happenings, stranger than +Charles in his monastery, or Justin on his throne, there stands the case +of Giant Maximin, what he attained, and how he attained it. Let me tell +the sober facts of history, tinged only by that colouring to which the +more austere historians could not condescend. It is a record as well as +a story. + +In the heart of Thrace some ten miles north of the Rhodope mountains, +there is a valley which is named Harpessus, after the stream which runs +down it. Through this valley lies the main road from the east to the +west, and along the road, returning from an expedition against the +Alani, there marched, upon the fifth day of the month of June in +the year 210, a small but compact Roman army. It consisted of three +legions--the Jovian, the Cappadocian, and the men of Hercules. Ten +turmae of Gallic cavalry led the van, whilst the rear was covered by +a regiment of Batavian Horse Guards, the immediate attendants of the +Emperor Septimus Severus who had conducted the campaign in person. The +peasants who lined the low hills which fringed the valley looked with +indifference upon the long files of dusty, heavily-burdened infantry, +but they broke into murmurs of delight at the gold-faced cuirasses +and high brazen horse-hair helmets of the guardsmen, applauding their +stalwart figures, their martial bearing, and the stately black chargers +which they rode. A soldier might know that it was the little weary men +with their short swords, their heavy pikes over their shoulders, and +their square shields slung upon their backs, who were the real terror of +the enemies of the Empire, but to the eyes of the wondering Thracians it +was this troop of glittering Apollos who bore Rome’s victory upon their +banners, and upheld the throne of the purple-togaed prince who rode +before them. + +Among the scattered groups of peasants who looked on from a respectful +distance at this military pageant, there were two men who attracted +much attention from those who stood immediately around them. The one was +commonplace enough--a little grey-headed man, with uncouth dress and +a frame which was bent and warped by a long life of arduous toil, +goat-driving and wood-chopping among the mountains. It was the +appearance of his youthful companion which had drawn the amazed +observation of the bystanders. In stature he was such a giant as is +seen but once or twice in each generation of mankind. Eight feet and two +inches was his measure from his sandalled sole to the topmost curls of +his tangled hair. Yet for all his mighty stature there was nothing heavy +or clumsy in the man. His huge shoulders bore no redundant flesh, and +his figure was straight and hard and supple as a young pine tree. A +frayed suit of brown leather clung close to his giant body, and a cloak +of undressed sheep-skin was slung from his shoulder. His bold blue +eyes, shock of yellow hair and fair skin showed that he was of Gothic or +northern blood, and the amazed expression upon his broad frank face as +he stared at the passing troops told of a simple and uneventful life in +some back valley of the Macedonian mountains. + +“I fear your mother was right when she advised that we keep you at +home,” said the old man anxiously. “Tree-cutting and wood-carrying will +seem but dull work after such a sight as this.” + +“When I see mother next it will be to put a golden torque round her +neck,” said the young giant. “And you, daddy; I will fill your leather +pouch with gold pieces before I have done.” + +The old man looked at his son with startled eyes. “You would not leave +us, Theckla! What could we do without you?” + +“My place is down among yonder men,” said the young man. “I was not born +to drive goats and carry logs, but to sell this manhood of mine in the +best market. There is my market in the Emperor’s own Guard. Say nothing, +daddy, for my mind is set, and if you weep now it will be to laugh +hereafter. I will to great Rome with the soldiers.” + +The daily march of the heavily laden Roman legionary was fixed at twenty +miles; but on this afternoon, though only half the distance had been +accomplished, the silver trumpets blared out their welcome news that a +camp was to be formed. As the men broke their ranks, the reason of their +light march was announced by the decurions. It was the birthday of Geta, +the younger son of the Emperor, and in his honour there would be games +and a double ration of wine. But the iron discipline of the Roman +army required that under all circumstances certain duties should be +performed, and foremost among them that the camp should be made secure. +Laying down their arms in the order of their ranks, the soldiers seized +their spades and axes, and worked rapidly and joyously until sloping +vallum and gaping fossa girdled them round, and gave them safe refuge +against a night attack. Then in noisy, laughing, gesticulating crowds +they gathered in their thousands round the grassy arena where the sports +were to be held. A long green hillside sloped down to a level plain, and +on this gentle incline the army lay watching the strife of the chosen +athletes who contended before them. They stretched themselves in the +glare of the sunshine, their heavy tunics thrown off, and their naked +limbs sprawling, wine-cups an baskets of fruit and cakes circling +amongst them, enjoying rest and peace as only those can to whom it comes +so rarely. + +The five-mile race was over, and had been won as usual by Decurion +Brennus, the crack long-distance champion of the Herculians. Amid the +yells of the Jovians, Capellus of the corps had carried off both the +long and the high jump. Big Brebix the Gaul had out-thrown the long +guardsman Serenus with the fifty pound stone. Now, as the sun sank +towards the western ridge, and turned the Harpessus to a riband of gold, +they had come to the final of the wrestling, where the pliant Greek, +whose name is lost in the nickname of “Python,” was tried out against +the bull-necked Lictor of the military police, a hairy Hercules, whose +heavy hand had in the way of duty oppressed many of the spectators. + +As the two men, stripped save for their loin-cloths, approached the +wrestling-ring, cheers and counter-cheers burst from their adherents, +some favouring the Lictor for his Roman blood, some the Greek from their +own private grudge. And then, of a sudden, the cheering died, heads were +turned towards the slope away from the arena, men stood up and peered +and pointed, until finally, in a strange hush, the whole great assembly +had forgotten the athletes, and were watching a single man walking +swiftly towards them down the green curve of the hill. This huge +solitary figure, with the oaken club in his hand, the shaggy fleece +flapping from his great shoulders, and the setting sun gleaming upon a +halo of golden hair, might have been the tutelary god of the fierce and +barren mountains from which he had issued. Even the Emperor rose from +his chair and gazed with open-eyed amazement at the extraordinary being +who approached him. + +The man, whom we already know as Theckla the Thracian, paid no heed +to the attention which he had aroused, but strode onwards, stepping as +lightly as a deer, until he reached the fringe of the soldiers. Amid +their open ranks he picked his way, sprang over the ropes which guarded +the arena, and advanced towards the Emperor, until a spear at his breast +warned him that he must go no nearer. Then he sunk upon his right knee +and called out some words in the Gothic speech. + +“Great Jupiter! Whoever saw such a body of a man!” cried the Emperor. +“What says he? What is amiss with the fellow? Whence comes he, and what +is his name?” + +An interpreter translated the Barbarian’s answer. “He says, great +Caesar, that he is of good blood, and sprung by a Gothic father from a +woman of the Alani. He says that his name is Theckla, and that he would +fain carry a sword in Caesar’s service.” + +The Emperor smiled. “Some post could surely be found for such a man, +were it but as janitor at the Palatine Palace,” said he to one of the +Prefects. “I would fain see him walk even as he is through the forum. +He would turn the heads of half the women in Rome. Talk to him, Crassus. +You know his speech.” + +The Roman officer turned to the giant. “Caesar says that you are to come +with him, and he will make you the servant at his door.” + +The Barbarian rose, and his fair cheeks flushed with resentment. + +“I will serve Caesar as a soldier,” said he, “but I will be +house-servant to no man-not even to him. If Caesar would see what manner +of man I am, let him put one of his guardsmen up against me.” + +“By the shade of Milo this is a bold fellow!” cried the Emperor. “How +say you, Crassus? Shall he make good his words?” + +“By your leave, Caesar,” said the blunt soldier, “good swordsmen are too +rare in these days that we should let them slay each other for sport. +Perhaps if the Barbarian would wrestle a fall--” + +“Excellent!” cried the Emperor. “Here is the Python, and here Varus the +Lictor, each stripped for the bout. Have a look at them, Barbarian, and +see which you would choose. What does he say? He would take them both? +Nay then he is either the king of wrestlers or the king of boasters, +and we shall soon see which. Let him have his way, and he has himself to +thank if he comes out with a broken neck.” + +There was some laughter when the peasant tossed his sheep-skin mantle to +the ground and, without troubling to remove his leathern tunic, advanced +towards the two wrestlers; but it became uproarious when with a quick +spring he seized the Greek under one arm and the Roman under the other, +holding them as in a vice. Then with a terrific effort he tore them both +from the ground, carried them writhing and kicking round the arena, and +finally walking up to the Emperor’s throne, threw his two athletes down +in front of him. Then, bowing to Caesar, the huge Barbarian withdrew, +and laid his great bulk down among the ranks of the applauding soldiers, +whence he watched with stolid unconcern the conclusion of the sports. + +It was still daylight, when the last event had been decided, and the +soldiers returned to the camp. The Emperor Severus had ordered his +horse, and in the company of Crassus, his favourite prefect, rode down +the winding pathway which skirts the Harpessus, chatting over the future +dispersal of the army. They had ridden for some miles when Severus, +glancing behind him, was surprised to see a huge figure which trotted +lightly along at the very heels of his horse. + +“Surely this is Mercury as well as Hercules that we have found among +the Thracian mountains,” said he with a smile. “Let us see how soon our +Syrian horses can out-distance him.” + +The two Romans broke into a gallop, and did not draw rein until a good +mile had been covered at the full pace of their splendid chargers. Then +they turned and looked back; but there, some distance off, still +running with a lightness and a spring which spoke of iron muscles and +inexhaustible endurance, came the great Barbarian. The Roman Emperor +waited until the athlete had come up to them. + +“Why do you follow me?” he asked. “It is my hope, Caesar, that I may +always follow you.” His flushed face as he spoke was almost level with +that of the mounted Roman. + +“By the god of war, I do not know where in all the world I could find +such a servant!” cried the Emperor. “You shall be my own body-guard, the +one nearest to me of all.” + +The giant fell upon his knee. “My life and strength are yours,” he said. +“I ask no more than to spend them for Caesar.” + +Crassus had interpreted this short dialogue. He now turned to the +Emperor. + +“If he is indeed to be always at your call, Caesar, it would be well to +give the poor Barbarian some name which your lips can frame. Theckla is +as uncouth and craggy a word as one of his native rocks.” + +The Emperor pondered for a moment. “If I am to have the naming of him,” + said he, “then surely I shall call him Maximus, for there is not such a +giant upon earth.” + +“Hark you,” said the Prefect. “The Emperor has deigned to give you a +Roman name, since you have come into his service. Henceforth you are no +longer Theckla, but you are Maximus. Can you say it after me?” + +“Maximin,” repeated the Barbarian, trying to catch the Roman word. + +The Emperor laughed at the mincing accent. “Yes, yes, Maximin let it +be. To all the world you are Maximin, the body-guard of Severus. When +we have reached Rome, we will soon see that your dress shall correspond +with your office. Meanwhile march with the guard until you have my +further orders.” + +So it came about that as the Roman army resumed its march next day, and +left behind it the fair valley of the Harpessus, a huge recruit, clad +in brown leather, with a rude sheep-skin floating from his shoulders, +marched beside the Imperial troop. But far away in the wooden farmhouse +of a distant Macedonian valley two old country folk wept salt tears, and +prayed to the gods for the safety of their boy who had turned his face +to Rome. + + + + +II THE RISE OF GIANT MAXIMIN + + +Exactly twenty-five years had passed since the day that Theckla the huge +Thracian peasant had turned into Maximin the Roman guardsman. They had +not been good years for Rome. Gone for ever were the great Imperial days +of the Hadrians and the Trajans. Gone also the golden age of the two +Antonines, when the highest were for once the most worthy and most +wise. It had been an epoch of weak and cruel men. Severus, the swarthy +African, a stark grim man, had died in far away York, after fighting all +the winter with the Caledonian Highlanders--a race who have ever +since worn the martial garb of the Romans. His son, known only by his +slighting nick-name of Caracalla, had reigned during six years of insane +lust and cruelty, before the knife of an angry soldier avenged the +dignity of the Roman name. The nonentity Macrinus had filled the +dangerous throne for a single year before he also met a bloody end, +and made room for the most grotesque of all monarchs, the unspeakable +Heliogabalus with his foul mind and his painted face. He in turn was cut +to pieces by the soldiers, and Severus Alexander, a gentle youth, scarce +seventeen years of age, had been thrust into his place. For thirteen +years now he had ruled, striving with some success to put some virtue +and stability into the rotting Empire, but raising many fierce enemies +as he did so-enemies whom he had not the strength nor the wit to hold in +check. + +And Giant Maximin--what of him? He had carried his eight feet of manhood +through the lowlands of Scotland, and the passes of the Grampians. +He had seen Severus pass away, and had soldiered with his son. He +had fought in Armenia, in Dacia, and in Germany. They had made him a +centurion upon the field when with his hands he plucked out one by +one the stockades of a northern village, and so cleared a path for +the stormers. His strength had been the jest and the admiration of the +soldiers. Legends about him had spread through the army and were the +common gossip round the camp fires--of his duel with the German axeman +on the Island of the Rhine, and of the blow with his fist which broke +the leg of a Scythian’s horse. Gradually he had won his way upwards, +until now, after quarter of a century’s service he was tribune of the +fourth legion and superintendent of recruits for the whole army. The +young soldier who had come under the glare of Maximin’s eyes, or had +been lifted up with one huge hand while he was cuffed by the other, had +his first lesson from him in the discipline of the service. + +It was nightfall in the camp of the fourth legion upon the Gallic shore +of the Rhine. Across the moonlit water, amid the thick forests which +stretched away to the dim horizon, lay the wild untamed German tribes. +Down on the river bank the light gleamed upon the helmets of the Roman +sentinels who kept guard along the river. Far away a red point rose and +fell in the darkness--a watch-fire of the enemy upon the further shore. + +Outside his tent, beside some smouldering logs, Giant Maximin was +seated, a dozen of his officers around him. He had changed much since +the day when we first met him in the Valley of the Harpessus. His huge +frame was as erect as ever, and there was no sign of diminution of his +strength. But he had aged none the less. The yellow tangle of hair was +gone, worn down by the ever-pressing helmet. The fresh young face was +drawn and hardened, with austere lines wrought by trouble and privation. +The nose was more hawk-like, the eyes more cunning, the expression more +cynical and more sinister. In his youth, a child would have run to +his arms. Now it would shrink screaming from his gaze. That was what +twenty-five years with the eagles had done for Theckla the Thracian +peasant. + +He was listening now--for he was a man of few words--to the chatter of +his centurions. One of them, Balbus the Sicilian, had been to the main +camp at Mainz, only four miles away, and had seen the Emperor Alexander +arrive that very day from Rome. The rest were eager at the news, for it +was a time of unrest, and the rumour of great changes was in the air. + +“How many had he with him?” asked Labienus, a black-browed veteran from +the south of Gaul. “I’ll wager a month’s pay that he was not so trustful +as to come alone among his faithful legions.” + +“He had no great force,” replied Balbus. “Ten or twelve cohorts of the +Praetorians and a handful of horse.” + +“Then indeed his head is in the lion’s mouth,” cried Sulpicius, a +hot-headed youth from the African Pentapolis. “How was he received?” + +“Coldly enough. There was scarce a shout as he came down the line.” + +“They are ripe for mischief,” said Labienus. “And who can wonder, when +it is we soldiers who uphold the Empire upon our spears, while the lazy +citizens at Rome reap all of our sowing. Why cannot a soldier have what +a soldier gains? So long as they throw us our denarius a day, they think +that they have done with us.” + +“Aye,” croaked a grumbling old greybeard. “Our limbs, our blood, our +lives--what do they care so long as the Barbarians are held off, and +they are left in peace to their feastings and their circus? Free bread, +free wine, free games--everything for the loafer at Rome. For us the +frontier guard and a soldier’s fare.” + +Maximin gave a deep laugh. “Old Plancus talks like that,” said he; “but +we know that for all the world he would not change his steel plate for a +citizen’s gown. You’ve earned the kennel, old hound, if you wish it. Go +and gnaw your bone and growl in peace.” + +“Nay, I am too old for change. I will follow the eagle till I die. And +yet I had rather die in serving a soldier master than a long-gowned +Syrian who comes of a stock where the women are men and the men are +women.” + +There was a laugh from the circle of soldiers, for sedition and mutiny +were rife in the camp, and even the old centurion’s outbreak could not +draw a protest. Maximin raised his great mastiff head and looked at +Balbus. + +“Was any name in the mouths of the soldiers?” he asked in a meaning +voice. + +There was a hush for the answer. The sigh of the wind among the pines +and the low lapping of the river swelled out louder in the silence. +Balbus looked hard at his commander. + +“Two names were whispered from rank to rank,” said he. “One was Ascenius +Pollio, the General. The other was--” + +The fiery Sulpicius sprang to his feet waving a glowing brand above his +head. + +“Maximinus!” he yelled, “Imperator Maximinus Augustus!” + +Who could tell how it came about? No one had thought of it an hour +before. And now it sprang in an instant to full accomplishment. The +shout of the frenzied young African had scarcely rung through the +darkness when from the tents, from the watch-fires, from the sentries, +the answer came pealing back: “Ave, Maximinus! Ave Maximinus Augustus!” + From all sides men came rushing, half-clad, wild-eyed, their eyes +staring, their mouths agape, flaming wisps of straw or flaring torches +above their heads. The giant was caught up by scores of hands, and sat +enthroned upon the bull-necks of the legionaries. “To the camp!” they +yelled. “To the camp! Hail! Hail to the soldier Caesar!” + +That same night Severus Alexander, the young Syrian Emperor, walked +outside his Praetorian camp, accompanied by his friend Licinius Probus, +the Captain of the Guard. They were talking gravely of the gloomy +faces and seditious bearing of the soldiers. A great foreboding of evil +weighed heavily upon the Emperor’s heart, and it was reflected upon the +stern bearded face of his companion. + +“I like it not,” said he. “It is my counsel, Caesar, that with the first +light of morning we make our way south once more.” + +“But surely,” the Emperor answered, “I could not for shame turn my back +upon the danger. What have they against me? How have I harmed them that +they should forget their vows and rise upon me?” + +“They are like children who ask always for something new. You heard the +murmur as you rode along the ranks. Nay, Caesar, fly tomorrow, and your +Praetorians will see that you are not pursued. There may be some loyal +cohorts among the legions, and if we join forces--” + +A distant shout broke in upon their conversation--a low continued roar, +like the swelling tumult of a sweeping wave. Far down the road upon +which they stood there twinkled many moving lights, tossing and sinking +as they rapidly advanced, whilst the hoarse tumultuous bellowing broke +into articulate words, the same tremendous words, a thousand-fold +repeated. Licinius seized the Emperor by the wrist and dragged him under +the cover of some bushes. + +“Be still, Caesar! For your life be still!” he whispered. “One word and +we are lost!” + +Crouching in the darkness, they saw that wild procession pass, the +rushing screaming figures, the tossing arms, the bearded, distorted +faces, now scarlet and now grey, as the brandished torches waxed or +waned. They heard the rush of many feet, the clamour of hoarse voices, +the clang of metal upon metal. And then suddenly, above them all, they +saw a vision of a monstrous man, a huge bowed back, a savage face, grim +hawk eyes, that looked out over the swaying shields. It was seen for an +instant in a smoke-fringed circle of fire, and then it had swept on into +the night. + +“Who is he?” stammered the Emperor, clutching at his guardsman’s sleeve. +“They call him Caesar.” + +“It is surely Maximin the Thracian peasant.” In the darkness the +Praetorian officer looked with strange eyes at his master. + +“It is all over, Caesar. Let us fly your tent.” + +But even as they went a second shout had broken forth tenfold louder +than the first. If the one had been the roar of the oncoming wave, the +other was the full turmoil of the tempest. Twenty thousand voices from +the camp had broken into one wild shout which echoed through the night, +until the distant Germans round their watch-fires listened in wonder and +alarm. + +“Ave!” cried the voices. “Ave Maximinus Augustus!” + +High upon their bucklers stood the giant, and looked round him at the +great floor of upturned faces below. His own savage soul was stirred +by the clamour, but only his gleaming eyes spoke of the fire within. +He waved his hand to the shouting soldiers as the huntsman waves to the +leaping pack. They passed him up a coronet of oak leaves, and clashed +their swords in homage as he placed it on his head. And then there came +a swirl in the crowd before him, a little space was cleared, and there +knelt an officer in the Praetorian garb, blood upon his face, blood upon +his bared forearm, blood upon his naked sword. Licinius too had gone +with the tide. + +“Hail, Caesar, hail!” he cried, as he bowed his head before the giant. +“I come from Alexander. He will trouble you no more.” + + + + +III THE FALL OF MAXIMIN + + +For three years the soldier Emperor had been upon the throne. His palace +had been his tent, and his people had been the legionaries. With them he +was supreme; away from them he was nothing. He had gone with them from +one frontier to the other. He had fought against Dacians, Sarmatians, +and once again against the Germans. But Rome knew nothing of him, and +all her turbulence rose against a master who cared so little for her or +her opinion that he never deigned to set foot within her walls. There +were cabals and conspiracies against the absent Caesar. Then his heavy +hand fell upon them, and they were cuffed, even as the young soldiers +had been who passed under his discipline. He knew nothing, and cared as +much for consuls, senates, and civil laws. His own will and the power +of the sword were the only forces which he could understand. Of commerce +and the arts he was as ignorant as when he left his Thracian home. The +whole vast Empire was to him a huge machine for producing the money by +which the legions were to be rewarded. Should he fail to get that money, +his fellow soldiers would bear him a grudge. To watch their interests +they had raised him upon their shields that night. If city funds had to +be plundered or temples desecrated, still the money must be got. Such +was the point of view of Giant Maximin. + +But there came resistance, and all the fierce energy of the man, all the +hardness which had given him the leadership of hard men, sprang forth to +quell it. From his youth he had lived amidst slaughter. Life and death +were cheap things to him. He struck savagely at all who stood up to him, +and when they hit back, he struck more savagely still. His giant shadow +lay black across the Empire from Britain to Syria. A strange subtle +vindictiveness became also apparent in him. Omnipotence ripened every +fault and swelled it into crime. In the old days he had been rebuked for +his roughness. Now a sullen dangerous anger arose against those who had +rebuked him. He sat by the hour with his craggy chin between his +hands, and his elbows resting on his knees, while he recalled all the +misadventures, all the vexations of his early youth, when Roman wits had +shot their little satires upon his bulk and his ignorance. He could not +write, but his son Verus placed the names upon his tablets, and they +were sent to the Governor of Rome. Men who had long forgotten their +offence were called suddenly to make most bloody reparation. + +A rebellion broke out in Africa, but was quelled by his lieutenant. But +the mere rumour of it set Rome in a turmoil. The Senate found something +of its ancient spirit. So did the Italian people. They would not be for +ever bullied by the legions. As Maximin approached from the frontier, +with the sack of rebellious Rome in his mind, he was faced with every +sign of a national resistance. The countryside was deserted, the farms +abandoned, the fields cleared of crops and cattle. Before him lay the +walled town of Aquileia. He flung himself fiercely upon it, but was met +by as fierce a resistance. The walls could not be forced, and yet there +was no food in the country round for his legions. The men were starving +and dissatisfied. What did it matter to them who was Emperor? Maximin +was no better than themselves. Why should they call down the curse of +the whole Empire upon their heads by upholding him? He saw their sullen +faces and their averted eyes, and he knew that the end had come. + +That night he sat with his son Verus in his tent, and he spoke softly +and gently as the youth had never heard him speak before. He had spoken +thus in old days with Paullina, the boy’s mother; but she had been dead +these many years, and all that was soft and gentle in the big man had +passed away with her. Now her spirit seemed very near him, and his own +was tempered by its presence. + +“I would have you go back to the Thracian mountains,” he said. “I have +tried both, boy, and I can tell you that there is no pleasure which +power can bring which can equal the breath of the wind and the smell of +the kine upon a summer morning. Against you they have no quarrel. +Why should they mishandle you? Keep far from Rome and the Romans. Old +Eudoxus has money, and to spare. He awaits you with two horses outside +the camp. Make for the valley of the Harpessus, lad. It was thence +that your father came, and there you will find his kin. Buy and stock +a homestead, and keep yourself far from the paths of greatness and of +danger. God keep you, Verus, and send you safe to Thrace.” + +When his son had kissed his hand and had left him, the Emperor drew his +robe around him and sat long in thought. In his slow brain he revolved +the past--his early peaceful days, his years with Severus, his memories +of Britain, his long campaigns, his strivings and battlings, all leading +to that mad night by the Rhine. His fellow soldiers had loved him then. +And now he had read death in their eyes. How had he failed them? Others +he might have wronged, but they at least had no complaint against him. +If he had his time again, he would think less of them and more of his +people, he would try to win love instead of fear, he would live +for peace and not for war. If he had his time again! But there were +shuffling Steps, furtive whispers, and the low rattle of arms outside +his tent. A bearded face looked in at him, a swarthy African face that +he knew well. He laughed, and, bearing his arm, he took his sword from +the table beside him. + +“It is you, Sulpicius,” said he. “You have not come to cry ‘Ave +Imperator Maximin!’ as once by the camp fire. You are tired of me, and +by the gods I am tired of you, and glad to be at the end of it. Come +and have done with it, for I am minded to see how many of you I can take +with me when I go.” + +They clustered at the door of the tent, peeping over each other’s +shoulders, and none wishing to be the first to close with that laughing, +mocking giant. But something was pushed forward upon a spear point, and +as he saw it, Maximin groaned and his sword sank to the earth. + +“You might have spared the boy,” he sobbed. “He would not have hurt you. +Have done with it then, for I will gladly follow him.” + +So they closed upon him and cut and stabbed and thrust, until his knees +gave way beneath him and he dropped upon the floor. + +“The tyrant is dead!” they cried. “The tyrant is dead,” and from all the +camp beneath them and from the walls of the beleaguered city the joyous +cry came echoing back, “He is dead, Maximin is dead!” + +I sit in my study, and upon the table before me lies a denarius of +Maximin, as fresh as when the triumvir of the Temple of Juno Moneta +sent it from the mint. Around it are recorded his resounding +titles--Imperator Maximinus, Pontifex Maximus, Tribunitia potestate, and +the rest. In the centre is the impress of a great craggy head, a massive +jaw, a rude fighting face, a contracted forehead. For all the pompous +roll of titles it is a peasant’s face, and I see him not as the Emperor +of Rome, but as the great Thracian boor who strode down the hillside on +that far-distant summer day when first the eagles beckoned him to Rome. + + + + +THE COMING OF THE HUNS + + +In the middle of the fourth century the state of the Christian religion +was a scandal and a disgrace. Patient, humble, and long-suffering in +adversity, it had become positive, aggressive, and unreasonable with +success. Paganism was not yet dead, but it was rapidly sinking, finding +its most faithful supporters among the conservative aristocrats of the +best families on the one hand, and among those benighted villagers on +the other who gave their name to the expiring creed. Between these +two extremes the great majority of reasonable men had turned from the +conception of many gods to that of one, and had rejected for ever the +beliefs of their forefathers. But with the vices of polytheism they had +also abandoned its virtues, among which toleration and religious good +humour had been conspicuous. The strenuous earnestness of the Christians +had compelled them to examine and define every point of their own +theology; but as they had no central authority by which such definitions +could be checked, it was not long before a hundred heresies had put +forward their rival views, while the same earnestness of conviction led +the stronger bands of schismatics to endeavour, for conscience sake, to +force their views upon the weaker, and thus to cover the Eastern world +with confusion and strife. + +Alexandria, Antioch, and Constantinople were centres of theological +warfare. The whole north of Africa, too, was rent by the strife of the +Donatists, who upheld their particular schism by iron flails and the +war-cry of “Praise to the Lord!” But minor local controversies sank to +nothing when compared with the huge argument of the Catholic and the +Arian, which rent every village in twain, and divided every household +from the cottage to the palace. The rival doctrines of the Homoousian +and of the Homoiousian, containing metaphysical differences so +attenuated that they could hardly be stated, turned bishop against +bishop and congregation against congregation. The ink of the theologians +and the blood of the fanatics were spilled in floods on either side, and +gentle followers of Christ were horrified to find that their faith was +responsible for such a state of riot and bloodshed as had never yet +disgraced the religious history of the world. Many of the more earnest +among them, shocked and scandalized, slipped away to the Libyan Desert, +or to the solitude of Pontus, there to await in self-denial and prayer +that second coming which was supposed to be at hand. Even in the deserts +they could not escape the echo of the distant strife, and the hermits +themselves scowled fiercely from their dens at passing travellers who +might be contaminated by the doctrines of Athanasius or of Arius. + +Such a hermit was Simon Melas, of whom I write. A Trinitarian and a +Catholic, he was shocked by the excesses of the persecution of the +Arians, which could be only matched by the similar outrages with which +these same Arians in the day of their power avenged their treatment on +their brother Christians. Weary of the whole strife, and convinced +that the end of the world was indeed at hand, he left his home in +Constantinople and travelled as far as the Gothic settlements in Dacia, +beyond the Danube, in search of some spot where he might be free from +the never-ending disputes. Still journeying to the north and east, he +crossed the river which we now call the Dneister, and there, finding +a rocky hill rising from an immense plain, he formed a cell near its +summit, and settled himself down to end his life in self-denial and +meditation. There were fish in the stream, the country teemed with +game, and there was an abundance of wild fruits, so that his spiritual +exercises were not unduly interrupted by the search of sustenance for +his mortal frame. + +In this distant retreat he expected to find absolute solitude, but the +hope was in vain. Within a week of his arrival, in an hour of worldly +curiosity, he explored the edges of the high rocky hill upon which he +lived. Making his way up to a cleft, which was hung with olives and +myrtles, he came upon a cave in the opening of which sat an aged man, +white-bearded, white-haired, and infirm--a hermit like himself. So long +had this stranger been alone that he had almost forgotten the use of his +tongue; but at last, words coming more freely, he was able to convey +the information that his name was Paul of Nicopolis, that he was a Greek +citizen, and that he also had come out into the desert for the saving of +his soul, and to escape from the contamination of heresy. + +“Little I thought, brother Simon,” said he, “that I should ever find +any one else who had come so far upon the same holy errand. In all these +years, and they are so many that I have lost count of them, I have never +seen a man, save indeed one or two wandering shepherds far out upon +yonder plain.” + +From where they sat, the huge steppe, covered with waving grass and +gleaming with a vivid green in the sun, stretched away as level and as +unbroken as the sea, to the eastern horizon. Simon Melas stared across +it with curiosity. + +“Tell me, brother Paul,” said he, “you who have lived here so long--what +lies at the further side of that plain?” + +The old man shook his head. “There is no further side to the plain,” + said he. “It is the earth’s boundary, and stretches away to eternity. +For all these years I have sat beside it, but never once have I seen +anything come across it. It is manifest that if there had been a further +side there would certainly at some time have come some traveller from +that direction. Over the great river yonder is the Roman post of +Tyras; but that is a long day’s journey from here, and they have never +disturbed my meditations.” + +“On what do you meditate, brother Paul?” + +“At first I meditated on many sacred mysteries; but now, for twenty +years, I have brooded continually on the nature of the Logos. What is +your view upon that vital matter, brother Simon?” + +“Surely,” said the younger man, “there can be no question as to that. +The Logos is assuredly but a name used by St. John to signify the +Deity.” + +The old hermit gave a hoarse cry of fury, and his brown, withered face +was convulsed with anger. Seizing the huge cudgel which he kept to beat +off the wolves, he shook it murderously at his companion. + +“Out with you! Out of my cell!” he cried. “Have I lived here so long +to have it polluted by a vile Trinitarian--a follower of the rascal +Athanasius? Wretched idolater, learn once for all, that the Logos is in +truth an emanation from the Deity, and in no sense equal or co-eternal +with Him! Out with you, I say, or I will dash out your brains with my +staff!” + +It was useless to reason with the furious Arian, and Simon withdrew in +sadness and wonder, that at this extreme verge of the known earth the +spirit of religious strife should still break upon the peaceful solitude +of the wilderness. With hanging head and heavy heart he made his way +down the valley, and climbed up once more to his own cell, which lay +at the crown of the hill, with the intention of never again exchanging +visits with his Arian neighbour. + +Here, for a year, dwelt Simon Melas, leading a life of solitude and +prayer. There was no reason why any one should ever come to this +outermost point of human habitation. Once a young Roman officer--Caius +Crassus--rode out a day’s journey from Tyras, and climbed the hill to +have speech with the anchorite. He was of an equestrian family, and +still held his belief in the old dispensation. He looked with interest +and surprise, but also with some disgust, at the ascetic arrangements of +that humble abode. + +“Whom do you please by living in such a fashion?” he asked. + +“We show that our spirit is superior to our flesh,” Simon answered. “If +we fare badly in this world, we believe that we shall reap an advantage +in the world to come.” + +The centurion shrugged his shoulders. “There are philosophers among our +people, Stoics and others, who have the same idea. When I was in the +Herulian Cohort of the Fourth Legion we were quartered in Rome itself, +and I saw much of the Christians, but I could never learn anything +from them which I had not heard from my own father, whom you, in your +arrogance, would call a Pagan. It is true that we talk of numerous gods; +but for many years we have not taken them very seriously. Our thoughts +upon virtue and duty and a noble life are the same as your own.” + +Simon Melas shook his head. + +“If you have not the holy books,” said he, “then what guide have you to +direct your steps?” + +“If you will read our philosophers, and above all the divine Plato, you +will find that there are other guides who may take you to the same end. +Have you by chance read the book which was written by our Emperor Marcus +Aurelius? Do you not discover there every virtue which man could have, +although he knew nothing of your creed? Have you considered, also, the +words and actions of our late Emperor Julian, with whom I served my +first campaign when he went out against the Persians? Where could you +find a more perfect man than he?” + +“Such talk is unprofitable, and I will have no more of it,” said Simon, +sternly. “Take heed while there is time, and embrace the true faith; +for the end of the world is at hand, and when it comes there will be no +mercy for those who have shut their eyes to the light.” So saying, he +turned back once more to his praying-stool and to his crucifix, while +the young Roman walked in deep thought down the hill, and mounting his +horse, rode off to his distant post. Simon watched him until his brazen +helmet was but a bead of light on the western edge of the great plain; +for this was the first human face that he had seen in all this long +year, and there were times when his heart yearned for the voices and the +faces of his kind. + +So another year passed, and save for the chance of weather and the slow +change of the seasons, one day was as another. Every morning, when Simon +opened his eyes, he saw the same grey line ripening into red in the +furthest east, until the bright rim pushed itself above that far-off +horizon across which no living creature had ever been known to come. +Slowly the sun swept across the huge arch of the heavens, and as the +shadows shifted from the black rocks which jutted upward from above his +cell, so did the hermit regulate his terms of prayer and meditation. +There was nothing on earth to draw his eye, or to distract his mind, +for the grassy plain below was as void from month to month as the heaven +above. So the long hours passed, until the red rim slipped down on the +further side, and the day ended in the same pearl-grey shimmer with +which it had begun. Once two ravens circled for some days round the +lonely hill, and once a white fish-eagle came from the Dneister and +screamed above the hermit’s head. Sometimes red dots were seen on the +green plain where the antelopes grazed, and often a wolf howled in the +darkness from the base of the rocks. Such was the uneventful life of +Simon Melas the anchorite, until there came the day of wrath. + +It was in the late spring of the year 375 that Simon came out from his +cell, his gourd in his hand, to draw water from the spring. Darkness had +closed in, the sun had set, but one last glimmer of rosy light rested +upon a rocky peak, which jutted forth from the hill, on the further side +from the hermit’s dwelling. As Simon came forth from under his ledge, +the gourd dropped from his hand, and he stood gazing in amazement. + +On the opposite peak a man was standing, his outline black in the +fading light. He was a strange almost a deformed figure, short-statured, +round-backed, with a large head, no neck, and a long rod jutting out +from between his shoulders. He stood with his face advanced, and his +body bent, peering very intently over the plain to the westward. In a +moment he was gone, and the lonely black peak showed up hard and naked +against the faint eastern glimmer. Then the night closed down, and all +was black once more. + +Simon Melas stood long in bewilderment, wondering who this stranger +could be. He had heard, as had every Christian, of those evil spirits +which were wont to haunt the hermits in the Thebaid and on the skirts +of the Ethiopian waste. The strange shape of this solitary creature, +its dark outline and prowling, intent attitude, suggestive rather of a +fierce, rapacious beast than of a man, all helped him to believe that +he had at last encountered one of those wanderers from the pit, of whose +existence, in those days of robust faith, he had no more doubt than +of his own. Much of the night he spent in prayer, his eyes glancing +continually at the low arch of his cell door, with its curtain of deep +purple wrought with stars. At any instant some crouching monster, some +homed abomination, might peer in upon him; and he clung with frenzied +appeal to his crucifix, as his human weakness quailed at the thought. +But at last his fatigue overcame his fears, and falling upon his couch +of dried grass, he slept until the bright daylight brought him to his +senses. + +It was later than was his wont, and the sun was far above the horizon. +As he came forth from his cell, he looked across at the peak of rock, +but it stood there bare and silent. Already it seemed to him that that +strange dark figure which had startled him so was some dream, some +vision of the twilight. His gourd lay where it had fallen, and he picked +it up with the intention of going to the spring. But suddenly he was +aware of something new. The whole air was throbbing with sound. From all +sides it came, rumbling, indefinite, an inarticulate mutter, low, but +thick and strong, rising, falling, reverberating among the rocks, dying +away into vague whispers, but always there. He looked round at the blue, +cloudless sky in bewilderment. Then he scrambled up the rocky pinnacle +above him, and sheltering himself in its shadow, he stared out over the +plain. In his wildest dream he had never imagined such a sight. + +The whole vast expanse was covered with horse-men, hundreds and +thousands and tens of thousands, all riding slowly and in silence, out +of the unknown east. It was the multitudinous beat of their horses’ +hoofs which caused that low throbbing in his ears. Some were so close +to him as he looked down upon them that he could see clearly their +thin wiry horses, and the strange humped figures of the swarthy riders, +sitting forward on the withers, shapeless bundles, their short legs +hanging stirrupless, their bodies balanced as firmly as though they were +part of the beast. In those nearest he could see the bow and the quiver, +the long spear and the short sword, with the coiled lasso behind the +rider, which told that this was no helpless horde of wanderers, but a +formidable army upon the march. His eyes passed on from them and swept +further and further, but still to the very horizon, which quivered +with movement, there was no end to this monstrous cavalry. Already the +vanguard was far past the island of rock upon which he dwelt, and he +could now understand that in front of this vanguard were single scouts +who guided the course of the army, and that it was one of these whom he +had seen the evening before. + +All day, held spell-bound by this wonderful sight, the hermit crouched +in the shadow of the rocks, and all day the sea of horsemen rolled +onward over the plain beneath. Simon had seen the swarming quays of +Alexandria, he had watched the mob which blocked the hippodrome of +Constantinople, yet never had he imagined such a multitude as now +defiled beneath his eyes, coming from that eastern skyline which had +been the end of his world. Sometimes the dense streams of horsemen +were broken by droves of brood-mares and foals, driven along by mounted +guards; sometimes there were herds of cattle; sometimes there were lines +of waggons with skin canopies above them; but then once more, after +every break, came the horsemen, the horsemen, the hundreds and the +thousands and the tens of thousands, slowly, ceaselessly, silently +drifting from the east to the west. The long day passed, the light +waned, and the shadows fell; but still the great broad stream was +flowing by. + +But the night brought a new and even stranger sight. Simon had marked +bundles of faggots upon the backs of many of the led horses, and now he +saw their use. All over the great plain, red pin-points gleamed through +the darkness, which grew and brightened into flickering columns of +flame. So far as he could see both to east and west the fires extended, +until they were but points of light in the furthest distance. White +stars shone in the vast heavens above, red ones in the great plain +below. And from every side rose the low, confused murmur of voices, with +the lowing of oxen and the neighing of horses. + +Simon had been a soldier and a man of affairs before ever he forsook the +world, and the meaning of all that he had seen was clear to him. History +told him how the Roman world had ever been assailed by fresh swarms of +Barbarians, coming from the outer darkness, and that the Eastern Empire +had already, in its fifty years of existence since Constantine had moved +the capital of the world to the shores of the Bosphorus, been tormented +in the same way. Gepidae and Heruli, Ostrogoths and Sarmatians, he was +familiar with them all. What the advanced sentinel of Europe had seen +from this lonely outlying hill, was a fresh swarm breaking in upon the +Empire, distinguished only from the others by its enormous, incredible +size and by the strange aspect of the warriors who composed it. He +alone of all civilized men knew of the approach of this dreadful shadow, +sweeping like a heavy storm-cloud from the unknown depths of the east. +He thought of the little Roman posts along the Dneister, of the +ruined Dacian wall of Trajan behind them, and then of the scattered, +defenceless villages which lay with no thought of danger over all the +open country which stretched down to the Danube. Could he but give them +the alarm! Was it not, perhaps, for that very end that God had guided +him to the wilderness? + +Then suddenly he remembered his Arian neighbour, who dwelt in the cave +beneath him. Once or twice during the last year he had caught a glimpse +of his tall, bent figure hobbling round to examine the traps which he +laid for quails and partridges. On one occasion they had met at the +brook; but the old theologian waved him away, as if he were a +leper. What did he think now of this strange happening? Surely their +differences might be forgotten at such a moment. He stole down the side +of the hill, and made his way to his fellow-hermit’s cave. + +But there was a terrible silence as he approached it. His heart sank +at that deadly stillness in the little valley. No glimmer of light came +from the cleft in the rocks. He entered and called, but no answer came +back. Then, with flint, steel, and the dry grass which he used for +tinder, he struck a spark, and blew it into a blaze. The old hermit, +his white hair dabbled with crimson, lay sprawling across the floor. +The broken crucifix, with which his head had been beaten in, lay +in splinters across him. Simon had dropped on his knees beside him, +straightening his contorted limbs, and muttering the office for the +dead, when the thud of a horse’s hoofs was heard ascending the little +valley which led to the hermit’s cell. The dry grass had burned down, +and Simon crouched trembling in the darkness, pattering prayers to the +Virgin that his strength might be upheld. + +It may have been that the newcomer had seen the gleam of the light, or +it may have been that he had heard from his comrades of the old man whom +they had murdered, and that his curiosity had led him to the spot. He +stopped his horse outside the cave, and Simon, lurking in the shadows +within, had a fair view of him in the moonlight. He slipped from his +saddle, fastened the bridle to a root, and then stood peering through +the opening of the cell. He was a very short, thick man, with a dark +face, which was gashed with three cuts upon either side. His small eyes +were sunk deep in his head, showing like black holes in the heavy, flat, +hairless face. His legs were short and very bandy, so that he waddled +uncouthly as he walked. + +Simon crouched in the darkest angle, and he gripped in his hand that +same knotted cudgel which the dead theologian had once raised against +him. As that hideous stooping head advanced into the darkness of the +cell, he brought the staff down upon it with all the strength of his +right arm, and then, as the stricken savage fell forward upon his face, +he struck madly again and again, until the shapeless figure lay limp and +still. One roof covered the first slain of Europe and of Asia. + +Simon’s veins were throbbing and quivering with the unwonted joy of +action. All the energy stored up in those years of repose came in a +flood at this moment of need. Standing in the darkness of the cell, he +saw, as in a map of fire, the outlines of the great Barbaric host, the +line of the river, the position of the settlements, the means by which +they might be warned. Silently he waited in the shadow until the moon +had sunk. Then he flung himself upon the dead man’s horse, guided it +down the gorge, and set forth at a gallop across the plain. + +There were fires on every side of him, but he kept clear of the rings +of light. Round each he could see, as he passed, the circle of sleeping +warriors, with the long lines of picketed horses. Mile after mile and +league after league stretched that huge encampment. And then, at last, +he had reached the open plain which led to the river, and the fires of +the invaders were but a dull smoulder against the black eastern +sky. Ever faster and faster he sped across the steppe, like a single +fluttered leaf which whirls before the storm. Even as the dawn whitened +the sky behind him, it gleamed also upon the broad river in front, and +he flogged his weary horse through the shallows, until he plunged into +its full yellow tide. + +So it was that, as the young Roman centurion--Caius Crassus--made his +morning round in the fort of Tyras he saw a single horseman, who rode +towards him from the river. Weary and spent, drenched with water and +caked with dirt and sweat, both horse and man were at the last stage of +their endurance. With amazement the Roman watched their progress, and +recognized in the ragged, swaying figure, with flying hair and staring +eyes, the hermit of the eastern desert. He ran to meet him, and caught +him in his arms as he reeled from the saddle. + +“What is it, then?” he asked. “What is your news?” + +But the hermit could only point at the rising sun. “To arms!” he +croaked. “To arms! The day of wrath is come!” And as he looked, the +Roman saw--far across the river--a great dark shadow, which moved slowly +over the distant plain. + + + + +THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS + + +Pontus, the Roman viceroy, sat in the atrium of his palatial villa by +the Thames, and he looked with perplexity at the scroll of papyrus which +he had just unrolled. Before him stood the messenger who had brought +it, a swarthy little Italian, whose black eyes were glazed with want +of sleep, and his olive features darker still from dust and sweat. The +viceroy was looking fixedly at him, yet he saw him not, so full was his +mind of this sudden and most unexpected order. To him it seemed as if +the solid earth had given way beneath his feet. His life and the work of +his life had come to irremediable ruin. + +“Very good,” he said at last in a hard dry voice, “you can go.” + +The man saluted and staggered out of the hall. + +A yellow-haired British major-domo came forward for orders. + +“Is the General there?” + +“He is waiting, your excellency.” + +“Then show him in, and leave us together.” + +A few minutes later Licinius Crassus, the head of the British military +establishment, had joined his chief. He was a large bearded man in a +white civilian toga, hemmed with the Patrician purple. His rough, bold +features, burned and seamed and lined with the long African wars, were +shadowed with anxiety as he looked with questioning eyes at the drawn, +haggard face of the viceroy. + +“I fear, your excellency, that you have had bad news from Rome.” + +“The worst, Crassus. It is all over with Britain. It is a question +whether even Gaul will be held.” + +“Saint Albus save us! Are the orders precise?” + +“Here they are, with the Emperor’s own seal.” + +“But why? I had heard a rumour, but it had seemed too incredible.” + +“So had I only last week, and had the fellow scourged for having spread +it. But here it is as clear as words can make it: ‘Bring every man of +the Legions by forced marches to the help of the Empire. Leave not a +cohort in Britain.’ These are my orders.” + +“But the cause?” + +“They will let the limbs wither so that the heart be stronger. The +old German hive is about to swarm once more. There are fresh crowds of +Barbarians from Dacia and Scythia. Every sword is needed to hold the +Alpine passes. They cannot let three legions lie idle in Britain.” + +The soldier shrugged his shoulder’s. + +“When the legions go no Roman would feel that his life was safe here. +For all that we have done, it is none the less the truth that it is no +country of ours, and that we hold it as we won it by the sword.” + +“Yes, every man, woman, and child of Latin blood must come with us to +Gaul. The galleys are already waiting at Portus Dubris. Get the orders +out, Crassus, at once. As the Valerian legion falls back from the Wall +of Hadrian it can take the northern colonists with it. The Jovians can +bring in the people from the west, and the Batavians can escort the +easterns if they will muster at Camboricum. You will see to it.” He sank +his face for a moment in his hands. “It is a fearsome thing,” said he, +“to tear up the roots of so goodly a tree.” + +“To make more space for such a crop of weeds,” said the soldier +bitterly. “My God, what will be the end of these poor Britons! From +ocean to ocean there is not a tribe which will not be at the throat of +its neighbour when the last Roman Lictor has turned his back. With these +hot-headed Silures it is hard enough now to keep the swords in their +sheaths.” + +“The kennel might fight as they chose among themselves until the best +hound won,” said the Roman Governor. “At least the victor would keep the +arts and the religion which we have brought them, and Britain would be +one land. No, it is the bear from the north and the wolves from oversea, +the painted savage from beyond the walls and the Saxon pirate from over +the water, who will succeed to our rule. Where we saved, they will slay; +where we built, they will burn; where we planted, they will ravage. But +the die is cast, Crassus. You will carry out the orders.” + +“I will send out the messengers within an hour. This very morning there +has come news that the Barbarians are through the old gap in the wall, +and their outriders as far south as Vinovia.” The Governor shrugged his +shoulders. “These things concern us no longer,” said he. Then a bitter +smile broke upon his aquiline clean-shaven face. “Whom think you that I +see in audience this morning?” + +“Nay, I know not.” + +“Caradoc and Regnus, and Celticus the Icenian, who, like so many of the +richer Britons, have been educated at Rome, and who would lay before me +their plans as to the ruling of this country.” + +“And what is their plan?” + +“That they themselves should do it.” The Roman soldier laughed. “Well, +they will have their will,” said he, as he saluted and turned upon his +heel. “Farewell, your excellency. There are hard days coming for you and +for me.” + +An hour later the British deputation was ushered into the presence of +the Governor. They were good steadfast men, men who with a whole heart, +and at some risk to themselves, had taken up their country’s cause, so +far as they could see it. At the same time, they well knew that under +the mild and beneficent rule of Rome it was only when they passed from +words to deeds that their backs or their necks would be in danger. +They stood now, earnest and a little abashed, before the throne of the +viceroy. Celticus was a swarthy black-bearded little Iberian. Caradoc +and Regnus were tall middle-aged men of the fair flaxen British type. +All three were dressed in the draped yellow toga after the Latin +fashion, instead of in the bracae and tunic which distinguished their +more insular fellow-countrymen. + +“Well?” asked the Governor. + +“We are here,” said Celticus boldly, “as the spokesmen of a great +number of our fellow-countrymen, for the purpose of sending our petition +through you to the Emperor and to the Roman Senate, that we may urge +upon them the policy of allowing us to govern this country after our own +ancient fashion.” He paused, as if awaiting some outburst as an answer +to his own temerity; but the Governor merely nodded his head as a sign +that he should proceed. “We had laws of our own before ever Caesar +set foot in Britain, which have served their purpose since first our +forefathers came from the land of Ham. We are not a child among the +nations, but our history goes back in our own traditions--further even +than that of Rome, and we are galled by this yoke which you have laid +upon us.” + +“Are not our laws just?” asked the Governor. + +“The code of Caesar is just, but it is always the code of Caesar. Our +own laws were made for our own uses and our own circumstances, and we +would fain have them again.” + +“You speak Roman as if you had been bred in the Forum; you wear a Roman +toga; your hair is filleted in Roman fashion--are not these the gifts of +Rome?” + +“We would take all the learning and all the arts that Rome or Greece +could give, but we would still be Britain, and ruled by Britons.” + +The viceroy smiled. “By the rood of Saint Helena,” said he, “had you +spoken thus to some of my heathen ancestors, there would have been an +end to your politics. That you have dared to stand before my face and +say as much is a proof for ever of the gentleness of our rule. But I +would reason with you for a moment upon this your request. You know well +that this land has never been one kingdom, but was always under many +chiefs and many tribes, who have made war upon each other. Would you in +very truth have it so again?” + +“Those were in the evil pagan days, the days of the Druid and the +oak-grove, your excellency. But now we are held together by a gospel of +peace.” + +The viceroy shook his head. “If all the world were of the same way +of thinking, then it would be easier,” said he. “It may be that this +blessed doctrine of peace will be little help to you when you are face +to face with strong men who still worship the god of war. What would you +do against the Picts of the north?” + +“Your excellency knows that many of the bravest legionaries are of +British blood. These are our defence.” + +“But discipline, man, the power to command, the knowledge of war, the +strength to act--it is in these things that you would fail. Too long +have you leaned upon the crutch.” + +“The times may be hard, but when we have gone through them, Britain will +be herself again.” + +“Nay, she will be under a different and a harsher master,” said the +Roman. “Already the pirates swarm upon the eastern coast. Were it not +for our Roman Count of the Saxon shore they would land tomorrow. I see +the day when Britain may, indeed, be one; but that will be because you +and your fellows are either dead or are driven into the mountains of the +west. All goes into the melting-pot, and if a better Albion should come +forth from it, it will be after ages of strife, and neither you nor your +people will have part or lot in it.” + +Regnus, the tall young Celt, smiled. “With the help of God and our own +right arms we should hope for a better end,” said he. “Give us but the +chance, and we will bear the brunt.” + +“You are as men that are lost,” said the viceroy sadly. “I see this +broad land, with its gardens and orchards, its fair villas and its +walled towns, its bridges and its roads, all the work of Rome. Surely +it will pass even as a dream, and these three hundred years of settled +order will leave no trace behind. For learn that it will indeed be as +you wish, and that this very day the orders have come to me that the +legions are to go.” + +The three Britons looked at each other in amazement. Their first impulse +was towards a wild exultation, but reflection and doubt followed close +upon its heels. + +“This is indeed wondrous news,” said Celticus. “This is a day of days to +the motherland. When do the legions go, your excellency, and what troops +will remain behind for our protection?” + +“The legions go at once,” said the viceroy. “You will doubtless rejoice +to hear that within a month there will be no Roman soldier in the +island, nor, indeed, a Roman of any sort, age, or sex, if I can take +them with me.” + +The faces of the Britons were shadowed, and Caradoc, a grave and +thoughtful man, spoke for the first time. + +“But this is over sudden, your excellency,” said he. “There is much +truth in what you have said about the pirates. From my villa near the +fort of Anderida I saw eighty of their galleys only last week, and I +know well that they would be on us like ravens on a dying ox. For many +years to come it would not be possible for us to hold them off.” + +The viceroy shrugged his shoulders. “It is your affair now,” said he. +“Rome must look to herself.” + +The last traces of joy had passed from the faces of the Britons. +Suddenly the future had started up clearly before them, and they quailed +at the prospect. + +“There is a rumour in the market-place,” said Celticus, “that the +northern Barbarians are through the gap in the wall. Who is to stop +their progress?” + +“You and your fellows,” said the Roman. + +Clearer still grew the future, and there was terror in the eyes of the +spokesmen as they faced it. + +“But, your excellency, if the legions should go at once, we should have +the wild Scots at York, and the Northmen in the Thames within the month. +We can build ourselves up under your shield, and in a few years it would +be easier for us; but not now, your excellency, not now.” + +“Tut, man; for years you have been clamouring in our ears and raising +the people. Now you have got what you asked. What more would you have? +Within the month you will be as free as were your ancestors before +Caesar set foot upon your shore.” + +“For God’s sake, your excellency, put our words out of your head. The +matter had not been well considered. We will send to Rome. We will ride +post-haste ourselves. We will fall at the Emperor’s feet. We will kneel +before the Senate and beg that the legions remain.” + +The Roman proconsul rose from his chair and motioned that the audience +was at an end. + +“You will do what you please,” said he. “I and my men are for Italy.” + +And even as he said, so was it, for before the spring had ripened into +summer, the troops were clanking down the via Aurelia on their way to +the Ligurian passes, whilst every road in Gaul was dotted with the +carts and the waggons which bore the Brito-Roman refugees on their weary +journey to their distant country. But ere another summer had passed +Celticus was dead, for he was flayed alive by the pirates and his skin +nailed upon the door of a church near Caistor. Regnus, too, was dead, +for he was tied to a tree and shot with arrows when the painted men came +to the sacking of Isca. Caradoc only was alive, but he was a slave to +Elda the red Caledonian, and his wife was mistress to Mordred the wild +chief of the western Cymri. From the ruined wall in the north to Vectis +in the south blood and ruin and ashes covered the fair land of Britain. +And after many days it came out fairer than ever, but, even as the Roman +had said, neither the Britons nor any men of their blood came into the +heritage of that which had been their own. + + + + +THE FIRST CARGO + + +“Ex ovo omnia” + +When you left Briton with your legion, my dear Crassus, I promised that +I would write to you from time to time when a messenger chanced to be +going to Rome, and keep you informed as to anything of interest which +might occur in this country. Personally, I am very glad that I remained +behind when the troops and so many of our citizens left, for though the +living is rough and the climate is infernal, still by dint of the three +voyages which I have made for amber to the Baltic, and the excellent +prices which I obtained for it here, I shall soon be in a position to +retire, and to spend my old age under my own fig tree, or even perhaps +to buy a small villa at Baiae or Posuoli, where I could get a good +sun-bath after the continued fogs of this accursed island. I picture +myself on a little farm, and I read the Georgics as a preparation; but +when I hear the rain falling and the wind howling, Italy seems very far +away. + +In my previous letter, I let you know how things were going in this +country. The poor folk, who had given up all soldiering during the +centuries that we guarded them, are now perfectly helpless before these +Picts and Scots, tattoed Barbarians from the north, who overrun the +whole country and do exactly what they please. So long as they kept to +the north, the people in the south, who are the most numerous, and also +the most civilized of the Britons, took no heed of them; but now the +rascals have come as far as London, and the lazy folk in these parts +have had to wake up. Vortigern, the king, is useless for anything but +drink or women, so he sent across to the Baltic to get over some of the +North Germans, in the hope that they would come and help him. It is bad +enough to have a bear in your house, but it does not seem to me to mend +matters if you call in a pack of ferocious wolves as well. However, +nothing better could be devised, so an invitation was sent and very +promptly accepted. And it is here that your humble friend appears upon +the scene. In the course of my amber trading I had learned the Saxon +speech, and so I was sent down in all haste to the Kentish shore that I +might be there when our new allies came. I arrived there on the very day +when their first vessel appeared, and it is of my adventures that I +wish to tell you. It is perfectly clear to me that the landing of these +warlike Germans in England will prove to be an event of historical +importance, and so your inquisitive mind will not feel wearied if I +treat the matter in some detail. + +It was, then, upon the day of Mercury, immediately following the Feast +of Our Blessed Lord’s Ascension, that I found myself upon the south bank +of the river Thames, at the point where it opens into a wide estuary. +There is an island there named Thanet, which was the spot chosen for the +landfall of our visitors. Sure enough, I had no sooner ridden up than +there was a great red ship, the first as it seems of three, coming in +under full sail. The white horse, which is the ensign of these rovers, +was hanging from her topmast, and she appeared to be crowded with +men. The sun was shining brightly, and the great scarlet ship, with +snow-white sails and a line of gleaming shields slung over her side, +made as fair a picture on that blue expanse as one would wish to see. + +I pushed off at once in a boat, because it had been arranged that none +of the Saxons should land until the king had come down to speak with +their leaders. Presently I was under the ship, which had a gilded dragon +in the bows, and a tier of oars along either side. As I looked up, there +was a row of helmeted heads looking down at me, and among them I saw, to +my great surprise and pleasure, that of Eric the Swart, with whom I do +business at Venta every year. He greeted me heartily when I reached the +deck, and became at once my guide, friend, and counsellor. This helped +me greatly with these Barbarians, for it is their nature that they are +very cold and aloof unless one of their own number can vouch for you, +after which they are very hearty and hospitable. Try as they will, they +find it hard, however, to avoid a certain suggestion of condescension, +and in the baser sort, of contempt, when they are dealing with a +foreigner. + +It was a great stroke of luck meeting Eric, for he was able to give me +some idea of how things stood before I was shown into the presence of +Kenna, the leader of this particular ship. The crew, as I learned from +him, was entirely made up of three tribes or families--those of Kenna, +of Lanc, and of Hasta. Each of these tribes gets its name by putting the +letters “ing” after the name of the chief, so that the people on +board would describe themselves as Kennings, Lancings, and Hastings. I +observed in the Baltic that the villages were named after the family who +lived in them, each keeping to itself, so that I have no doubt if these +fellows get a footing on shore, we shall see settlements with names like +these rising up among the British towns. + +The greater part of the men were sturdy fellows with red, yellow, or +brown hair, mostly the latter. To my surprise, I saw several women among +them. Eric, in answer to my question, explained that they always take +their women with them so far as they can, and that instead of finding +them an incumbrance as our Roman dames would be, they look upon them +as helpmates and advisers. Of course, I remembered afterwards that our +excellent and accurate Tacitus has remarked upon this characteristic of +the Germans. All laws in the tribes are decided by votes, and a vote has +not yet been given to the women, but many are in favour of it, and it +is thought that woman and man may soon have the same power in the State, +though many of the women themselves are opposed to such an innovation. +I observed to Eric that it was fortunate there were several women on +board, as they could keep each other company; but he answered that +the wives of chiefs had no desire to know the wives of the inferior +officers, and that both of them combined against the more common women, +so that any companionship was out of the question. He pointed as he +spoke to Editha, the wife of Kenna, a red-faced, elderly woman, who +walked among the others, her chin in the air, taking no more notice than +if they did not exist. + +Whilst I was talking to my friend Eric, a sudden altercation broke out +upon the deck, and a great number of the men paused in their work, and +flocked towards the spot with faces which showed that they were deeply +interested in the matter. Eric and I pushed our way among the others, +for I was very anxious to see as much as I could of the ways and manners +of these Barbarians. A quarrel had broken out about a child, a little +blue-eyed fellow with curly yellow hair, who appeared to be greatly +amused by the hubbub of which he was the cause. On one side of him stood +a white-bearded old man, of very majestic aspect, who signified by his +gestures that he claimed the lad for himself, while on the other was a +thin, earnest, anxious person, who strongly objected to the boy being +taken from him. Eric whispered in my ear that the old man was the tribal +high priest, who was the official sacrificer to their great god Woden, +whilst the other was a man who took somewhat different views, not upon +Woden, but upon the means by which he should be worshipped. The majority +of the crew were on the side of the old priest; but a certain number, +who liked greater liberty of worship, and to invent their own prayers +instead of always repeating the official ones, followed the lead of the +younger man. The difference was too deep and too old to be healed among +the grown men, but each had a great desire to impress their view upon +the children. This was the reason why these two were now so furious with +each other, and the argument between them ran so high that several of +their followers on either side had drawn the short saxes, or knives +from which their name of Saxon is derived, when a burly, red-headed man +pushed his way through the throng, and in a voice of thunder brought the +controversy to an end. + +“You priests, who argue about the things which no man can know, are more +trouble aboard this ship than all the dangers of the sea,” he cried. +“Can you not be content with worshipping Woden, over which we are all +agreed, and not make so much of those small points upon which we may +differ? If there is all this fuss about the teaching of the children, +then I shall forbid either of you to teach them, and they must be +content with as much as they can learn from their mothers.” + +The two angry teachers walked away with discontented faces; and +Kenna--for it was he who spoke--ordered that a whistle should be +sounded, and that the crew should assemble. I was pleased with the free +bearing of these people, for though this was their greatest chief, they +showed none of the exaggerated respect which soldiers of a legion might +show to the Praetor, but met him on a respectful equality, which showed +how highly they rated their own manhood. + +From our Roman standard, his remarks to his men would seem very wanting +in eloquence, for there were no graces nor metaphors to be found in +them, and yet they were short, strong and to the point. At any rate it +was very clear that they were to the minds of his hearers. He began by +reminding them that they had left their own country because the land was +all taken up, and that there was no use returning there, since there was +no place where they could dwell as free and independent men. This island +of Britain was but sparsely inhabited, and there was a chance that every +one of them would be able to found a home of his own. + +“You, Whitta,” he said, addressing some of them by name, “you will found +a Whitting hame, and you, Bucka, we shall see you in a Bucking hame, +where your children, and your children’s children will bless you for the +broad acres which your valour will have gained for them.” There was no +word of glory or of honour in his speech, but he said that he was aware +that they would do their duty, on which they all struck their swords +upon their shields so that the Britons on the beach could hear the +clang. Then, his eyes falling upon me, he asked me whether I was the +messenger from Vortigern, and on my answering, he bid me follow him +into his cabin, where Lanc and Hasta the other chiefs were waiting for a +council. + +Picture me, then, my dear Crassus, in a very low-roofed cabin, with +these three huge Barbarians seated round me. Each was clad in some sort +of saffron tunic, with chain-mail shirts over it, and helmets with the +horns of oxen on either side, laid upon the table before them. Like most +of the Saxon chiefs, their beards were shaved, but they wore their hair +long and their huge light-coloured moustaches drooped down on to their +shoulders. They are gentle, slow, and somewhat heavy in their bearing, +but I can well fancy that their fury is the more terrible when it does +arise. + +Their minds seem to be of a very practical and positive nature, for they +at once began to ask me a series of questions upon the numbers of the +Britons, the resources of the kingdom, the conditions of its trade, and +other such subjects. They then set to work arguing over the information +which I had given, and became so absorbed in their own contention that I +believe there were times when they forgot my presence. Everything, after +due discussion, was decided between them by vote, the one who found +himself in the minority always submitting, though sometimes with a very +bad grace. Indeed, on one occasion Lanc, who usually differed from the +others, threatened to refer the matter to the general vote of the whole +crew. There was a constant conflict in the point of view; for whereas +Kenna and Hasta were anxious to extend the Saxon power, and to make it +greater in the eyes of the world, Lanc was of opinion that they should +give less thought to conquest and more to the comfort and advancement of +their followers. At the same time it seemed to me that really Lanc was +the more combative of the three; so much so that, even in time of peace, +he could not forego this contest with his own brethren. Neither of the +others seemed very fond of him, for they were each, as was easy to +see, proud of their chieftainship, and anxious to use their authority, +referring continually to those noble ancestors from whom it was derived; +while Lanc, though he was equally well born, took the view of the common +men upon every occasion, claiming that the interests of the many were +superior to the privileges of the few. In a word, Crassus, if you +could imagine a free-booting Gracchus on one side, and two piratical +Patricians upon the other, you would understand the effect which my +companions produced upon me. + +There was one peculiarity which I observed in their conversation which +soothed me very much. I am fond of these Britons, among whom I have +spent so much of my life, and I wish them well. It was very pleasing, +therefore, to notice that these men insisted upon it in their +conversation that the whole object of their visit was the good of the +Islanders. Any prospect of advantage to themselves was pushed into the +background. I was not clear that these professions could be made to +agree with the speech in which Kenna had promised a hundred hides of +land to every man on the ship; but on my making this remark, the three +chiefs seemed very surprised and hurt by my suspicions, and explained +very plausibly that, as the Britons needed them as a guard, they +could not aid them better than by settling on the soil, and so being +continually at hand in order to help them. In time, they said, they +hoped to raise and train the natives to such a point that they would be +able to look after themselves. Lanc spoke with some degree of eloquence +upon the nobleness of the mission which they had undertaken, and the +others clattered their cups of mead (a jar of that unpleasant drink was +on the table) in token of their agreement. + +I observed also how much interested, and how very earnest and intolerant +these Barbarians were in the matter of religion. Of Christianity they +knew nothing, so that although they were aware that the Britons were +Christians, they had not a notion of what their creed really was. Yet +without examination they started by taking it for granted that their +own worship of Woden was absolutely right, and that therefore this +other creed must be absolutely wrong. “This vile religion,” “This sad +superstition,” and “This grievous error,” were among the phrases which +they used towards it. Instead of expressing pity for any one who had +been misinformed upon so serious a question, their feelings were those +of anger, and they declared most earnestly that they would spare +no pains to set the matter right, fingering the hilts of their long +broad-swords as they said so. + +Well, my dear Crassus, you will have had enough of me and of my Saxons. +I have given you a short sketch of these people and their ways. Since +I began this letter, I have visited the two other ships which have come +in, and as I find the same characteristics among the people on board +them, I cannot doubt that they lie deeply in the race. For the rest, +they are brave, hardy, and very pertinacious in all that they undertake; +whereas the Britons, though a great deal more spirited, have not the +same steadiness of purpose, their quicker imaginations suggesting always +some other course, and their more fiery passions being succeeded by +reaction. When I looked from the deck of the first Saxon ship, and saw +the swaying excited multitude of Britons on the beach, contrasting them +with the intent, silent men who stood beside me, it seemed to me more +than ever dangerous to call in such allies. So strongly did I feel it +that I turned to Kenna, who was also looking towards the beach. + +“You will own this island before you have finished,” said I. + +His eyes sparkled as he gazed. “Perhaps,” he cried; and then suddenly +collecting himself and thinking that he had said too much, he added-- + +“A temporary occupation--nothing more.” + + + + +THE HOME-COMING + + +In the spring of the year 528, a small brig used to run as a passenger +boat between Chalcedon on the Asiatic shore and Constantinople. On the +morning in question, which was that of the feast of Saint George, the +vessel was crowded with excursionists who were bound for the great city +in order to take part in the religious and festive celebrations which +marked the festival of the Megalo-martyr, one of the most choice +occasions in the whole vast hagiology of the Eastern Church. The day was +fine and the breeze light, so that the passengers in their holiday mood +were able to enjoy without a qualm the many objects of interest which +marked the approach to the greatest and most beautiful capital in the +world. + +On the right, as they sped up the narrow strait, there stretched the +Asiatic shore, sprinkled with white villages and with numerous villas +peeping out from the woods which adorned it. In front of them, the +Prince’s Islands, rising as green as emeralds out of the deep sapphire +blue of the Sea of Marmora, obscured for the moment the view of the +capital. As the brig rounded these, the great city burst suddenly upon +their sight, and a murmur of admiration and wonder rose from the crowded +deck. Tier above tier it rose, white and glittering, a hundred brazen +roofs and gilded statues gleaming in the sun, with high over all the +magnificent shining cupola of Saint Sophia. Seen against a cloudless +sky, it was the city of a dream-too delicate, too airily lovely for +earth. + +In the prow of the small vessel were two travellers of singular +appearance. The one was a very beautiful boy, ten or twelve years of +age, swarthy, clear-cut, with dark, curling hair and vivacious black +eyes, full of intelligence and of the joy of living. The other was an +elderly man, gaunt-faced and grey-bearded, whose stern features were lit +up by a smile as he observed the excitement and interest with which his +young companion viewed the beautiful distant city and the many vessels +which thronged the narrow strait. + +“See! see!” cried the lad. “Look at the great red ships which sail out +from yonder harbour. Surely, your holiness, they are the greatest of all +ships in the world.” + +The old man, who was the abbot of the monastery of Saint Nicephorus in +Antioch, laid his hand upon the boy’s shoulder. + +“Be wary, Leon, and speak less loudly, for until we have seen your +mother we should keep ourselves secret. As to the red galleys they are +indeed as large as any, for they are the Imperial ships of war, which +come forth from the harbour of Theodosius. Round yonder green point is +the Golden Horn, where the merchant ships are moored. But now, Leon, if +you follow the line of buildings past the great church, you will see +a long row of pillars fronting the sea. It marks the Palace of the +Caesars.” + +The boy looked at it with fixed attention. “And my mother is there,” he +whispered. + +“Yes, Leon, your mother the Empress Theodora and her husband the great +Justinian dwell in yonder palace.” + +The boy looked wistfully up into the old man’s face. + +“Are you sure, Father Luke, that my mother will indeed be glad to see +me?” + +The abbot turned away his face to avoid those questioning eyes. + +“We cannot tell, Leon. We can only try. If it should prove that there is +no place for you, then there is always a welcome among the brethren of +Saint Nicephorus.” + +“Why did you not tell my mother that we were coming, Father Luke? Why +did you not wait until you had her command?” + +“At a distance, Leon, it would be easy to refuse you. An Imperial +messenger would have stopped us. But when she sees you, Leon--your +eyes, so like her own, your face, which carries memories of one whom she +loved--then, if there be a woman’s heart within her bosom, she will take +you into it. They say that the Emperor can refuse her nothing. They have +no child of their own. There is a great future before you, Leon. When it +comes, do not forget the poor brethren of Saint Nicephorus, who took you +in when you had no friend in the world.” + +The old abbot spoke cheerily, but it was easy to see from his anxious +countenance that the nearer he came to the capital the more doubtful +did his errand appear. What had seemed easy and natural from the quiet +cloisters of Antioch became dubious and dark now that the golden domes +of Constantinople glittered so close at hand. Ten years before, a +wretched woman, whose very name was an offence throughout the eastern +world where she was as infamous for her dishonour as famous for her +beauty, had come to the monastery gate, and had persuaded the monks to +take charge of her infant son, the child of her shame. There he had been +ever since. But she, Theodora, the harlot, returning to the capital, had +by the strangest turn of Fortune’s wheel caught the fancy and finally +the enduring love of Justinian the heir to the throne. Then on the death +of his uncle Justin, the young man had become the greatest monarch upon +the earth, and had raised Theodora to be not only his wife and Empress, +but to be absolute ruler with powers equal to and independent of his +own. And she, the polluted one, had risen to the dignity, had cut +herself sternly away from all that related to her past life, and had +shown signs already of being a great Queen, stronger and wiser than her +husband, but fierce, vindictive, and unbending, a firm support to her +friends, but a terror to her foes. This was the woman to whom the Abbot +Luke of Antioch was bringing Leon, her forgotten son. If ever her mind +strayed back to the days when, abandoned by her lover Ecebolus, the +Governor of the African Pentapolis, she had made her way on foot through +Asia Minor, and left her infant with the monks, it was only to persuade +herself that the brethren cloistered far from the world would never +identify Theodora the Empress with Theodora the dissolute wanderer, and +that the fruits of her sin would be for ever concealed from her Imperial +husband. + +The little brig had now rounded the point of the Acropolis, and the +long blue stretch of the Golden Horn lay before it. The high wall of +Theodosius lined the whole harbour, but a narrow verge of land had been +left between it and the water’s edge to serve as a quay. The vessel +ran alongside near the Neorion Gate, and the passengers, after a short +scrutiny from the group of helmeted guards who lounged beside it, were +allowed to pass through into the great city. + +The abbot, who had made several visits to Constantinople upon the +business of his monastery, walked with the assured step of one who +knows his ground; while the boy, alarmed and yet pleased by the rush +of people, the roar and glitter of passing chariots, and the vista of +magnificent buildings, held tightly to the loose gown of his guide, +while staring eagerly about him in every direction. Passing through the +steep and narrow streets which led up from the water, they emerged into +the open space which surrounds the magnificent pile of Saint Sophia, the +great church begun by Constantine, hallowed by Saint Chrysostom, and now +the seat of the Patriarch, and the very centre of the Eastern Church. +Only with many crossings and genuflections did the pious abbot succeed +in passing the revered shrine of his religion, and hurried on to his +difficult task. + +Having passed Saint Sophia, the two travellers crossed the marble-paved +Augusteum, and saw upon their right the gilded gates of the hippodrome +through which a vast crowd of people was pressing, for though the +morning had been devoted to the religious ceremony, the afternoon was +given over to secular festivities. So great was the rush of the populace +that the two strangers had some difficulty in disengaging themselves +from the stream and reaching the huge arch of black marble which formed +the outer gate of the palace. Within they were fiercely ordered to halt +by a gold-crested and magnificent sentinel who laid his shining spear +across their breasts until his superior officer should give them +permission to pass. The abbot had been warned, however, that all +obstacles would give way if he mentioned the name of Basil the eunuch, +who acted as chamberlain of the palace and also as Parakimomen--a +high office which meant that he slept at the door of the Imperial +bed-chamber. The charm worked wonderfully, for at the mention of that +potent name the Protosphathaire, or Head of the Palace Guards, who +chanced to be upon the spot, immediately detached one of his soldiers +with instructions to convoy the two strangers into the presence of the +chamberlain. + +Passing in succession a middle guard and an inner guard, the travellers +came at last into the palace proper, and followed their majestic guide +from chamber to chamber, each more wonderful than the last. Marbles and +gold, velvet and silver, glittering mosaics, wonderful carvings, ivory +screens, curtains of Armenian tissue and of Indian silk, damask from +Arabia, and amber from the Baltic--all these things merged themselves +in the minds of the two simple provincials, until their eyes ached and +their senses reeled before the blaze and the glory of this, the most +magnificent of the dwellings of man. Finally, a pair of curtains, +crusted with gold, were parted, and their guide handed them over to a +negro mute who stood within. A heavy, fat, brown-skinned man, with a +large, flabby, hairless face was pacing up and down the small apartment, +and he turned upon them as they entered with an abominable and +threatening smile. His loose lips and pendulous cheeks were those of +a gross old woman, but above them there shone a pair of dark malignant +eyes, full of fierce intensity of observation and judgment. + +“You have entered the palace by using my name,” he said. “It is one of +my boasts that any of the populace can approach me in this way. But it +is not fortunate for those who take advantage of it without due cause.” + Again he smiled a smile which made the frightened boy cling tightly to +the loose serge skirts of the abbot. + +But the ecclesiastic was a man of courage. Undaunted by the sinister +appearance of the great chamberlain, or by the threat which lay in his +words, he laid his hand upon his young companion’s shoulder and faced +the eunuch with a confidential smile. + +“I have no doubt, your excellency,” said he, “that the importance of my +mission has given me the right to enter the palace. The only thing which +troubles me is whether it may not be so important as to forbid me from +broaching it to you, or indeed, to anybody save the Empress Theodora, +since it is she only whom it concerns.” + +The eunuch’s thick eyebrows bunched together over his vicious eyes. + +“You must make good those words,” he said. “If my gracious master--the +ever-glorious Emperor Justinian--does not disdain to take me into his +most intimate confidence in all things, it would be strange if there +were any subject within your knowledge which I might not hear. You +are, as I gather from your garb and bearing, the abbot of some Asiatic +monastery?” + +“You are right, your excellency, I am the abbot of the Monastery of St. +Nicephorus in Antioch. But I repeat that I am assured that what I have +to say is for the ear of the Empress Theodora only.” + +The eunuch was evidently puzzled, and his curiosity aroused by the old +man’s persistence. He came nearer, his heavy face thrust forward, his +flabby brown hands, like two sponges, resting upon the table of yellow +jasper before him. + +“Old man,” said he, “there is no secret which concerns the Empress which +may not be told to me. But if you refuse to speak, it is certain that +you will never see her. Why should I admit you, unless I know your +errand? How should I know that you are not a Manichean heretic with +a poniard in your bosom, longing for the blood of the mother of the +Church?” + +The abbot hesitated no longer. “If there be a mistake in the matter, +then on your head be it,” said he. “Know then that this lad Leon is the +son of Theodora the Empress, left by her in our monastery within a month +of his birth ten years ago. This papyrus which I hand you will show you +that what I say is beyond all question or doubt.” + +The eunuch Basil took the paper, but his eyes were fixed upon the boy, +and his features showed a mixture of amazement at the news that he +had received, and of cunning speculation as to how he could turn it to +profit. + +“Indeed, he is the very image of the Empress,” he muttered; and then, +with sudden suspicion, “Is it not the chance of this likeness which has +put the scheme into your head, old man?” + +“There is but one way to answer that,” said the abbot. “It is to ask the +Empress herself whether what I say is not true, and to give her the glad +tidings that her boy is alive and well.” + +The tone of confidence, together with the testimony of the papyrus, +and the boy’s beautiful face, removed the last shadow of doubt from the +eunuch’s mind. Here was a great fact; but what use could he make of it? +Above all, what advantage could he draw from it? He stood with his fat +chin in his hand, turning it over in his cunning brain. + +“Old man,” said he at last, “to how many have you told this secret?” + +“To no one in the whole world,” the other answered. “There is Deacon +Bardas at the monastery and myself. No one else knows anything.” + +“You are sure of this?” + +“Absolutely certain.” + +The eunuch had made up his mind. If he alone of all men in the palace +knew of this event, he would have a powerful hold over his masterful +mistress. He was certain that Justinian the Emperor knew nothing of +this. It would be a shock to him. It might even alienate his affections +from his wife. She might care to take precautions to prevent him from +knowing. And if he, Basil the eunuch, was her confederate in those +precautions, then how very close it must draw him to her. All this +flashed through his mind as he stood, the papyrus in his hand, looking +at the old man and the boy. + +“Stay here,” said he. “I will be with you again.” With a swift rustle of +his silken robes he swept from the chamber. + +A few minutes had elapsed when a curtain at the end of the room was +pushed aside, and the eunuch, reappearing, held it back, doubling his +unwieldy body into a profound obeisance as he did so. Through the gap +came a small alert woman, clad in golden tissue, with a loose outer +mantle and shoes of the Imperial purple. That colour alone showed +that she could be none other than the Empress; but the dignity of her +carriage, the fierce authority of her magnificent dark eyes, and the +perfect beauty of her haughty face, all proclaimed that it could only be +that Theodora who, in spite of her lowly origin, was the most majestic +as well as the most maturely lovely of all the women in her kingdom. +Gone now were the buffoon tricks which the daughter of Acacius the +bearward had learned in the amphitheatre; gone too was the light charm +of the wanton, and what was left was the worthy mate of a great king, +the measured dignity of one who was every inch an empress. + +Disregarding the two men, Theodora walked up to the boy, placed her two +white hands upon his shoulders, and looked with a long questioning +gaze, a gaze which began with hard suspicion and ended with tender +recognition, into those large lustrous eyes which were the very +reflection of her own. At first the sensitive lad was chilled by the +cold intent question of the look; but as it softened, his own spirit +responded, until suddenly, with a cry of “Mother! mother!” he cast +himself into her arms, his hands locked round her neck, his face buried +in her bosom. Carried away by the sudden natural outburst of emotion, +her own arms tightened round the lad’s figure, and she strained him +for an instant to her heart. Then, the strength of the Empress gaining +instant command over the temporary weakness of the mother, she pushed +him back from her, and waved that they should leave her to herself. The +slaves in attendance hurried the two visitors from the room. Basil the +eunuch lingered, looking down at his mistress, who had thrown herself +upon a damask couch, her lips white and her bosom heaving with the +tumult of her emotion. She glanced up and met the chancellor’s crafty +gaze, her woman’s instinct reading the threat that lurked within it. + +“I am in your power,” she said. “The Emperor must never know of this.” + +“I am your slave,” said the eunuch, with his ambiguous smile. “I am an +instrument in your hand. If it is your will that the Emperor should know +nothing, then who is to tell him?” + +“But the monk, the boy? What are we to do?” + +“There is only one way for safety,” said the eunuch. + +She looked at him with horrified eyes. His spongy hands were pointing +down to the floor. There was an underground world to this beautiful +palace, a shadow that was ever close to the light, a region of dimly-lit +passages, of shadowed corners, of noiseless, tongueless slaves, of +sudden, sharp screams in the darkness. To this the eunuch was pointing. + +A terrible struggle rent her breast. The beautiful boy was hers, flesh +of her flesh, bone of her bone. She knew it beyond all question or +doubt. It was her one child, and her whole heart went out to him. But +Justinian! She knew the Emperor’s strange limitations. Her career in the +past was forgotten. He had swept it all aside by special Imperial decree +published throughout the Empire, as if she were new-born through the +power of his will, and her association with his person. But they were +childless, and this sight of one which was not his own would cut him to +the quick. He could dismiss her infamous past from his mind, but if it +took the concrete shape of this beautiful child, then how could he wave +it aside as if it had never been? All her instincts and her intimate +knowledge of the man told her that even her charm, and her influence +might fail under such circumstances to save her from ruin. Her divorce +would be as easy to him as her elevation had been. She was balanced +upon a giddy pinnacle, the highest in the world, and yet the higher the +deeper the fall. Everything that earth could give was now at her feet. +Was she to risk the losing of it all--for what? For a weakness which was +unworthy of an Empress, for a foolish new-born spasm of love, for that +which had no existence within her in the morning? How could she be so +foolish as to risk losing such a substance for such a shadow? + +“Leave it to me,” said the brown watchful face above her. + +“Must it be--death?” + +“There is no real safety outside. But if your heart is too merciful, +then by the loss of sight and speech--” + +She saw in her mind the white-hot iron approaching those glorious eyes, +and she shuddered at the thought. + +“No, no! Better death than that!” + +“Let it be death then. You are wise, great Empress, for there only is +real safety and assurance of silence.” + +“And the monk?” + +“Him also.” + +“But the Holy Synod? He is a tonsured priest. What would the Patriarch +do?” + +“Silence his babbling tongue. Then let them do what they will. How are +we of the palace to know that this conspirator, taken with a dagger in +his sleeve, is really what he says?” + +Again she shuddered and shrank down among the cushions. + +“Speak not of it, think not of it,” said the eunuch. “Say only that you +leave it in my hands. Nay, then, if you cannot say it, do but nod your +head, and I take it as your signal.” + +In that moment there flashed before Theodora’s mind a vision of all +her enemies, of all those who envied her rise, of all whose hatred +and contempt would rise into a clamour of delight could they see the +daughter of the bearward hurled down again into that abyss from which +she had been dragged. Her face hardened, her lips tightened, her little +hands clenched in the agony of her thought. “Do it!” she said. + +In an instant, with a terrible smile, the messenger of death hurried +from the room. She groaned aloud, and buried herself yet deeper amid the +silken cushions, clutching them frantically with convulsed and twitching +hands. + +The eunuch wasted no time, for this deed, once done, he became--save +for some insignificant monk in Asia Minor, whose fate would soon be +sealed--the only sharer of Theodora’s secret, and therefore the only +person who could curb and bend that most imperious nature. Hurrying into +the chamber where the visitors were waiting, he gave a sinister signal, +only too well known in those iron days. In an instant the black mutes in +attendance seized the old man and the boy, pushing them swiftly down a +passage and into a meaner portion of the palace, where the heavy smell +of luscious cooking proclaimed the neighbourhood of the kitchens. A side +corridor led to a heavily-barred iron door, and this in turn opened upon +a steep flight of stone steps, feebly illuminated by the glimmer of wall +lamps. At the head and foot stood a mute sentinel like an ebony statue, +and below, along the dusky and forbidding passages from which the cells +opened, a succession of niches in the wall were each occupied by a +similar guardian. The unfortunate visitors were dragged brutally down +a number of stone-flagged and dismal corridors until they descended +another long stair which led so deeply into the earth that the damp +feeling in the heavy air and the drip of water all round showed that +they had come down to the level of the sea. Groans and cries, like those +of sick animals, from the various grated doors which they passed showed +how many there were who spent their whole lives in this humid and +poisonous atmosphere. + +At the end of this lowest passage was a door which opened into a single +large vaulted room. It was devoid of furniture, but in the centre was +a large and heavy wooden board clamped with iron. This lay upon a rude +stone parapet, engraved with inscriptions beyond the wit of the eastern +scholars, for this old well dated from a time before the Greeks founded +Byzantium, when men of Chaldea and Phoenicia built with huge unmortared +blocks, far below the level of the town of Constantine. The door was +closed, and the eunuch beckoned to the slaves that they should remove +the slab which covered the well of death. The frightened boy screamed +and clung to the abbot, who, ashy-pale and trembling, was pleading hard +to melt the heart of the ferocious eunuch. + +“Surely, surely, you would not slay the innocent boy!” he cried. “What +has he done? Was it his fault that he came here? I alone--I and Deacon +Bardas--are to blame. Punish us, if some one must indeed be punished. +We are old. It is today or tomorrow with us. But he is so young and so +beautiful, with all his life before him. Oh, sir! oh, your excellency, +you would not have the heart to hurt him!” + +He threw himself down and clutched at the eunuch’s knees, while the boy +sobbed piteously and cast horror-stricken eyes at the black slaves who +were tearing the wooden slab from the ancient parapet beneath. The only +answer which the chamberlain gave to the frantic pleadings of the abbot +was to take a stone which lay on the coping of the well and toss it +in. It could be heard clattering against the old, damp, mildewed walls, +until it fell with a hollow boom into some far distant subterranean +pool. Then he again motioned with his hands, and the black slaves threw +themselves upon the boy and dragged him away from his guardian. So +shrill was his clamour that no one heard the approach of the Empress. +With a swift rush she had entered the room, and her arms were round her +son. + +“It shall not be! It cannot be!” she cried. “No, no, my darling! my +darling! they shall do you no hurt. I was mad to think of it--mad and +wicked to dream of it. Oh, my sweet boy! To think that your mother might +have had your blood upon her head!” + +The eunuch’s brows were gathered together at this failure of his plans, +at this fresh example of feminine caprice. + +“Why kill them, great lady, if it pains your gracious heart?” said he. +“With a knife and a branding iron they can be disarmed for ever.” + +She paid no attention to his words. “Kiss me, Leon!” she cried. “Just +once let me feel my own child’s soft lips rest upon mine. Now again! No, +no more, or I shall weaken for what I have still to say and still to do. +Old man, you are very near a natural grave, and I cannot think from +your venerable aspect that words of falsehood would come readily to your +lips. You have indeed kept my secret all these years, have you not?” + +“I have in very truth, great Empress. I swear to you by Saint +Nicephorus, patron of our house, that, save old Deacon Bardas, there is +none who knows.” + +“Then let your lips still be sealed. If you have kept faith in the past, +I see no reason why you should be a babbler in the future. And you, +Leon”--she bent her wonderful eyes with a strange mixture of sternness +and of love upon the boy, “can I trust you? Will you keep a secret +which could never help you, but would be the ruin and downfall of your +mother?” + +“Oh, mother, I would not hurt you! I swear that I will be silent.” + +“Then I trust you both. Such provision will be made for your monastery +and for your own personal comforts as will make you bless the day you +came to my palace. Now you may go. I wish never to see you again. If +I did, you might find me in a softer mood, or in a harder, and the +one would lead to my undoing, the other to yours. But if by whisper or +rumour I have reason to think that you have failed me, then you and your +monks and your monastery will have such an end as will be a lesson for +ever to those who would break faith with their Empress.” + +“I will never speak,” said the old abbot; “neither will Deacon +Bardas; neither will Leon. For all three I can answer. But there are +others--these slaves, the chancellor. We may be punished for another’s +fault.” + +“Not so,” said the Empress, and her eyes were like flints. “These slaves +are voiceless; nor have they any means to tell those secrets which they +know. As to you, Basil--” She raised her white hand with the same deadly +gesture which he had himself used so short a time before. The black +slaves were on him like hounds on a stag. + +“Oh, my gracious mistress, dear lady, what is this? What is this? You +cannot mean it!” he screamed, in his high, cracked voice. “Oh, what have +I done? Why should I die?” + +“You have turned me against my own. You have goaded me to slay my own +son. You have intended to use my secret against me. I read it in your +eyes from the first. Cruel, murderous villain, taste the fate which +you have yourself given to so many others. This is your doom. I have +spoken.” + +The old man and the boy hurried in horror from the vault. As they +glanced back they saw the erect inflexible, shimmering, gold-clad figure +of the Empress. Beyond they had a glimpse of the green-scummed lining of +the well, and of the great red open mouth of the eunuch, as he screamed +and prayed while every tug of the straining slaves brought him one step +nearer to the brink. With their hands over their ears they rushed away, +but even so they heard that last woman-like shriek, and then the heavy +plunge far down in the dark abysses of the earth. + + + + +THE RED STAR + + +The house of Theodosius, the famous eastern merchant, was in the best +part of Constantinople at the Sea Point which is near the Church of +Saint Demetrius. Here he would entertain in so princely a fashion that +even the Emperor Maurice had been known to come privately from the +neighbouring Bucoleon palace in order to join in the revelry. On the +night in question, however, which was the fourth of November in the +year of our Lord 630, his numerous guests had retired early, and there +remained only two intimates, both of them successful merchants like +himself, who sat with him over their wine on the marble verandah of his +house, whence on the one side they could see the lights of the shipping +in the Sea of Marmora, and on the other the beacons which marked out the +course of the Bosphorus. Immediately at their feet lay a narrow strait +of water, with the low, dark loom of the Asiatic hills beyond. A thin +haze hid the heavens, but away to the south a single great red star +burned sullenly in the darkness. + +The night was cool, the light was soothing, and the three men talked +freely, letting their minds drift back into the earlier days when they +had staked their capital, and often their lives, on the ventures which +had built up their present fortunes. The host spoke of his long journeys +in North Africa, the land of the Moors; how he had travelled, keeping +the blue sea ever upon his right, until he had passed the ruins of +Carthage, and so on and ever on until a great tidal ocean beat upon a +yellow strand before him, while on the right he could see the high rock +across the waves which marked the Pillars of Hercules. His talk was +of dark-skinned bearded men, of lions, and of monstrous serpents. Then +Demetrius, the Cilician, an austere man of sixty, told how he also had +built up his mighty wealth. He spoke of a journey over the Danube and +through the country of the fierce Huns, until he and his friends had +found themselves in the mighty forest of Germany, on the shores of the +great river which is called the Elbe. His stories were of huge men, +sluggish of mind, but murderous in their cups, of sudden midnight broils +and nocturnal flights, of villages buried in dense woods, of bloody +heathen sacrifices, and of the bears and wolves who haunted the forest +paths. So the two elder men capped each other’s stories and awoke each +other’s memories, while Manuel Ducas, the young merchant of gold and +ostrich feathers, whose name was already known all over the Levant, sat +in silence and listened to their talk. At last, however, they called +upon him also for an anecdote, and leaning his cheek upon his elbow, +with his eyes fixed upon the great red star which burned in the south, +the younger man began to speak. + +“It is the sight of that star which brings a story into my mind,” said +he. “I do not know its name. Old Lascaris the astronomer would tell me +if I asked, but I have no desire to know. Yet at this time of the year +I always look out for it, and I never fail to see it burning in the same +place. But it seems to me that it is redder and larger than it was. + +“It was some ten years ago that I made an expedition into Abyssinia, +where I traded to such good effect that I set forth on my return with +more than a hundred camel-loads of skins, ivory, gold, spices, and other +African produce. I brought them to the sea-coast at Arsinoe, and carried +them up the Arabian Gulf in five of the small boats of the country. +Finally, I landed near Saba, which is a starting-point for caravans, +and, having assembled my camels and hired a guard of forty men from the +wandering Arabs, I set forth for Macoraba. From this point, which is +the sacred city of the idolaters of those parts, one can always join +the large caravans which go north twice a year to Jerusalem and the +sea-coast of Syria. + +“Our route was a long and weary one. On our left hand was the Arabian +Gulf, lying like a pool of molten metal under the glare of day, but +changing to blood-red as the sun sank each evening behind the distant +African coast. On our right was a monstrous desert which extends, so far +as I know, across the whole of Arabia and away to the distant kingdom +of the Persians. For many days we saw no sign of life save our own long, +straggling line of laden camels with their tattered, swarthy guardians. +In these deserts the soft sand deadens the footfall of the animals, so +that their silent progress day after day through a scene which never +changes, and which is itself noiseless, becomes at last like a strange +dream. Often as I rode behind my caravan, and gazed at the grotesque +figures which bore my wares in front of me, I found it hard to believe +that it was indeed reality, and that it was I, I, Manuel Ducas, who +lived near the Theodosian Gate of Constantinople, and shouted for the +Green at the hippodrome every Sunday afternoon, who was there in so +strange a land and with such singular comrades. + +“Now and then, far out at sea, we caught sight of the white triangular +sails of the boats which these people use, but as they are all pirates, +we were very glad to be safely upon shore. Once or twice, too, by the +water’s edge we saw dwarfish creatures-one could scarcely say if they +were men or monkeys--who burrow for homes among the seaweed, drink the +pools of brackish water, and eat what they can catch. These are the +fish-eaters, the Ichthyophagi, of whom old Herodotus talks--surely the +lowest of all the human race. Our Arabs shrank from them with horror, +for it is well known that, should you die in the desert, these little +people will settle on you like carrion crows, and leave not a bone +unpicked. They gibbered and croaked and waved their skinny arms at us +as we passed, knowing well that they could swim far out to sea if we +attempted to pursue them; for it is said that even the sharks turn with +disgust from their foul bodies. + +“We had travelled in this way for ten days, camping every evening at the +vile wells which offered a small quantity of abominable water. It was +our habit to rise very early and to travel very late, but to halt during +the intolerable heat of the afternoon, when, for want of trees, we would +crouch in the shadow of a sandhill, or, if that were wanting, behind +our own camels and merchandise, in order to escape from the insufferable +glare of the sun. On the seventh day we were near the point where one +leaves the coast in order to strike inland to Macoraba. We had concluded +our midday halt, and were just starting once more, the sun still +being so hot that we could hardly bear it, when, looking up, I saw a +remarkable sight. Standing on a hillock to our right there was a man +about forty feet high, holding in his hand a spear which was the size +of the mast of a large ship. You look surprised, my friends, and you +can therefore imagine my feelings when I saw such a sight. But my reason +soon told me that the object in front of me was really a wandering +Arab, whose form had been enormously magnified by the strange distorting +effects which the hot air of the desert is able to cause. + +“However, the actual apparition caused more alarm to my companions +than the imagined one had to me, for with a howl of dismay they shrank +together into a frightened group, all pointing and gesticulating as they +gazed at the distant figure. I then observed that the man was not alone, +but that from all the sandhills a line of turbaned heads was gazing down +upon us. The chief of the escort came running to me, and informed me +of the cause of their terror, which was that they recognized, by some +peculiarity of their headgear, that these men belonged to the tribe of +the Dilwas, the most ferocious and unscrupulous of the Bedouin, who had +evidently laid an ambuscade for us at this point with the intention of +seizing our caravan. When I thought of all my efforts in Abyssinia, of +the length of my journey and of the dangers and fatigues which I had +endured, I could not bear to think of this total disaster coming upon me +at the last instant and robbing me not only of my profits, but also of +my original outlay. It was evident, however, that the robbers were too +numerous for us to attempt to defend ourselves, and that we should be +very fortunate if we escaped with our lives. Sitting upon a packet, +therefore, I commended my soul to our blessed Saint Helena, while I +watched with despairing eyes the stealthy and menacing approach of the +Arab robbers. + +“It may have been our own good fortune, or it may have been the handsome +offering of beeswax candles--four to the pound--which I had mentally +vowed to the blessed Helena, but at that instant I heard a great outcry +of joy from among my own followers. Standing up on the packet that I +might have a better view, I was overjoyed to see a long caravan--five +hundred camels at least-with a numerous armed guard coming along the +route from Macoraba. It is, I need not tell you, the custom of all +caravans to combine their forces against the robbers of the desert, and +with the aid of these newcomers we had become the stronger party. The +marauders recognized it at once, for they vanished as if their native +sands had swallowed them. Running up to the summit of a sandhill, I was +just able to catch a glimpse of a dust-cloud whirling away across the +yellow plain, with the long necks of their camels, the flutter of their +loose garments, and the gleam of their spears breaking out from the +heart of it. So vanished the marauders. + +“Presently I found, however, that I had only exchanged one danger for +another. At first I had hoped that this new caravan might belong to some +Roman citizen, or at least to some Syrian Christian, but I found that +it was entirely Arab. The trading Arabs who are settled in the numerous +towns of Arabia are, of course, very much more peaceable than the +Bedouin of the wilderness, those sons of Ishmael of whom we read in Holy +Writ. But the Arab blood is covetous and lawless, so that when I saw +several hundred of them formed in a semi-circle round our camels, +looking with greedy eyes at my boxes of precious metals and my packets +of ostrich feathers, I feared the worst. + +“The leader of the new caravan was a man of dignified bearing and +remarkable appearance. His age I would judge to be about forty. He +had aquiline features, a noble black beard, and eyes so luminous, so +searching, and so intense that I cannot remember in all my wanderings +to have seen any which could be compared with them. To my thanks and +salutations he returned a formal bow, and stood stroking his beard and +looking in silence at the wealth which had suddenly fallen into his +power. A murmur from his followers showed the eagerness with which they +awaited the order to tall upon the plunder, and a young ruffian, who +seemed to be on intimate terms with the leader, came to his elbow and +put the desires of his companions into words. + +“‘Surely, oh Revered One,’ said he, ‘these people and their treasure +have been delivered into our hands. When we return with it to the holy +place, who of all the Koraish will fail to see the finger of God which +has led us?’ + +“But the leader shook his head. ‘Nay, Ali, it may not be,’ he answered. +‘This man is, as I judge, a citizen of Rome, and we may not treat him as +though he were an idolater.’ + +“‘But he is an unbeliever,’ cried the youth, fingering a great knife +which hung in his belt. ‘Were I to be the judge, he would lose not only +his merchandise, but his life also, if he did not accept the faith.’ + +“The older man smiled and shook his head. ‘Nay, Ali; you are too +hot-headed,’ said he, ‘seeing that there are not as yet three hundred +faithful in the world, our hands would indeed be full if we were to take +the lives and property of all who are not with us. Forget not, dear lad, +that charity and honesty are the very nose-ring and halter of the true +faith.’ + +“‘Among the faithful,’ said the ferocious youth. + +“‘Nay, towards every one. It is the law of Allah. And yet’--here +his countenance darkened, and his eyes shone with a most sinister +light--‘the day may soon come when the hour of grace is past, and woe, +then, to those who have not hearkened! Then shall the sword of Allah be +drawn, and it shall not be sheathed until the harvest is reaped. First +it shall strike the idolaters on the day when my own people and kinsmen, +the unbelieving Koraish, shall be scattered, and the three hundred and +sixty idols of the Caaba thrust out upon the dungheaps of the town. Then +shall the Caaba be the home and temple of one God only who brooks no +rival on earth or in heaven.’ + +“The man’s followers had gathered round him, their spears in their +hands, their ardent eyes fixed upon his face, and their dark features +convulsed with such fanatic enthusiasm as showed the hold which he had +upon their love and respect. + +“‘We shall be patient,’ said he; ‘but some time next year, the year +after, the day may come when the great angel Gabriel shall bear me the +message that the time of words has gone by, and that the hour of the +sword has come. We are few and weak, but if it is His will, who can +stand against us? Are you of Jewish faith, stranger?’ he asked. + +“I answered that I was not. + +“‘The better for you,’ he answered, with the same furious anger in his +swarthy face. ‘First shall the idolaters fall, and then the Jews, in +that they have not known those very prophets whom they had themselves +foretold. Then last will come the turn of the Christians, who follow +indeed a true Prophet, greater than Moses or Abraham, but who have +sinned in that they have confounded a creature with the Creator. To each +in turn--idolater, Jew, and Christian--the day of reckoning will come.’ + +“The ragamuffins behind him all shook their spears as he spoke. There +was no doubt about their earnestness, but when I looked at their +tattered dresses and simple arms, I could not help smiling to think of +their ambitious threats, and to picture what their fate would be upon +the day of battle before the battle-axes of our Imperial Guards, or the +spears of the heavy cavalry of the Armenian Themes. However, I need not +say that I was discreet enough to keep my thoughts to myself, as I had +no desire to be the first martyr in this fresh attack upon our blessed +faith. + +“It was now evening, and it was decided that the two caravans should +camp together--an arrangement which was the more welcome as we were by +no means sure that we had seen the last of the marauders. I had invited +the leader of the Arabs to have supper with me, and after a long +exercise of prayer with his followers he came to join me, but my attempt +at hospitality was thrown away, for he would not touch the excellent +wine which I had unpacked for him, nor would he eat any of my dainties, +contenting himself with stale bread, dried dates, and water. After this +meal we sat alone by the smouldering fire, the magnificent arch of the +heavens above us of that deep, rich blue with those gleaming, clear-cut +stars which can only be seen in that dry desert air. Our camp lay before +us, and no sound reached our ears save the dull murmur of the voices +of our companions and the occasional shrill cry of a jackal among the +sandhills around us. Face to face I sat with this strange man, the glow +of the fire beating upon his eager and imperious features and reflecting +from his passionate eyes. It was the strangest vigil, and one which will +never pass from my recollection. I have spoken with many wise and famous +men upon my travels, but never with one who left the impression of this +one. + +“And yet much of his talk was unintelligible to me, though, as you are +aware, I speak Arabian like an Arab. It rose and fell in the strangest +way. Sometimes it was the babble of a child, sometimes the incoherent +raving of a fanatic, sometimes the lofty dreams of a prophet and +philosopher. There were times when his stories of demons, of miracles, +of dreams, and of omens, were such as an old woman might tell to please +the children of an evening. There were others when, as he talked with +shining face of his converse with angels, of the intentions of the +Creator, and the end of the universe, I felt as if I were in the +company of some one more than mortal, some one who was indeed the direct +messenger of the Most High. + +“There were good reasons why he should treat me with such confidence. He +saw in me a messenger to Constantinople and to the Roman Empire. Even as +Saint Paul had brought Christianity to Europe, so he hoped that I might +carry his doctrines to my native city. Alas! be the doctrines what they +may, I fear that I am not the stuff of which Pauls are made. Yet he +strove with all his heart during that long Arabian night to bring me +over to his belief. He had with him a holy book, written, as he said, +from the dictation of an angel, which he carried in tablets of bone in +the nose-bag of a camel. Some chapters of this he read me; but, though +the precepts were usually good, the language seemed wild and fanciful. +There were times when I could scarce keep my countenance as I listened +to him. He planned out his future movements, and indeed, as he spoke, +it was hard to remember that he was only the wandering leader of an Arab +caravan, and not one of the great ones of the earth. + +“‘When God has given me sufficient power, which will be within a few +years,’ said he, ‘I will unite all Arabia under my banner. Then I will +spread my doctrine over Syria and Egypt. When this has been done, I will +turn to Persia, and give them the choice of the true faith or the sword. +Having taken Persia, it will be easy then to overrun Asia Minor, and so +to make our way to Constantinople.’ + +“I bit my lip to keep from laughing. ‘And how long will it be before +your victorious troops have reached the Bosphorus?’ I asked. + +“‘Such things are in the hands of God, whose servants we are,’ said he. +‘It may be that I shall myself have passed away before these things are +accomplished, but before the days of our children are completed, all +that I have now told you will come to pass. Look at that star,’ he +added, pointing to a beautiful clear planet above our heads. ‘That is +the symbol of Christ. See how serene and peaceful it shines, like His +own teaching and the memory of His life. Now,’ he added, turning his +outstretched hand to a dusky red star upon the horizon--the very one on +which we are gazing now--‘that is my star, which tells of wrath, of war, +of a scourge upon sinners. And yet both are indeed stars, and each does +as Allah may ordain.’ + +“Well, that was the experience which was called to my mind by the sight +of this star tonight. Red and angry, it still broods over the south, +even as I saw it that night in the desert. Somewhere down yonder that +man is working and striving. He may be stabbed by some brother fanatic +or slain in a tribal skirmish. If so, that is the end. But if he lives, +there was that in his eyes and in his presence which tells me that +Mahomet the son of Abdallah--for that was his name--will testify in some +noteworthy fashion to the faith that is in him.” + + + + +PART II. THE SILVER MIRROR + + +Jan. 3.--This affair of White and Wotherspoon’s accounts proves to be +a gigantic task. There are twenty thick ledgers to be examined and +checked. Who would be a junior partner? However, it is the first big bit +of business which has been left entirely in my hands. I must justify +it. But it has to be finished so that the lawyers may have the result in +time for the trial. Johnson said this morning that I should have to get +the last figure out before the twentieth of the month. Good Lord! Well, +have at it, and if human brain and nerve can stand the strain, I’ll win +out at the other side. It means office-work from ten to five, and then a +second sitting from about eight to one in the morning. There’s drama in +an accountant’s life. When I find myself in the still early hours, while +all the world sleeps, hunting through column after column for those +missing figures which will turn a respected alderman into a felon, I +understand that it is not such a prosaic profession after all. + +On Monday I came on the first trace of defalcation. No heavy game hunter +ever got a finer thrill when first he caught sight of the trail of his +quarry. But I look at the twenty ledgers and think of the jungle through +which I have to follow him before I get my kill. Hard work--but rare +sport, too, in a way! I saw the fat fellow once at a City dinner, his +red face glowing above a white napkin. He looked at the little pale man +at the end of the table. He would have been pale too if he could have +seen the task that would be mine. + +Jan. 6.--What perfect nonsense it is for doctors to prescribe rest when +rest is out of the question! Asses! They might as well shout to a man +who has a pack of wolves at his heels that what he wants is absolute +quiet. My figures must be out by a certain date; unless they are so, I +shall lose the chance of my lifetime, so how on earth am I to rest? I’ll +take a week or so after the trial. + +Perhaps I was myself a fool to go to the doctor at all. But I get +nervous and highly-strung when I sit alone at my work at night. It’s not +a pain--only a sort of fullness of the head with an occasional mist over +the eyes. I thought perhaps some bromide, or chloral, or something of +the kind might do me good. But stop work? It’s absurd to ask such a +thing. It’s like a long-distance race. You feel queer at first and your +heart thumps and your lungs pant, but if you have only the pluck to +keep on, you get your second wind. I’ll stick to my work and wait for my +second wind. If it never comes--all the same, I’ll stick to my work. Two +ledgers are done, and I am well on in the third. The rascal has covered +his tracks well, but I pick them up for all that. + +Jan. 9.--I had not meant to go to the doctor again. And yet I have had +to. “Straining my nerves, risking a complete breakdown, even endangering +my sanity.” That’s a nice sentence to have fired off at one. Well, I’ll +stand the strain and I’ll take the risk, and so long as I can sit in my +chair and move a pen I’ll follow the old sinner’s slot. + +By the way, I may as well set down here the queer experience which +drove me this second time to the doctor. I’ll keep an exact record of my +symptoms and sensations, because they are interesting in themselves--“a +curious psycho-physiological study,” says the doctor--and also because I +am perfectly certain that when I am through with them they will all seem +blurred and unreal, like some queer dream betwixt sleeping and waking. +So now, while they are fresh, I will just make a note of them, if only +as a change of thought after the endless figures. + +There’s an old silver-framed mirror in my room. It was given me by a +friend who had a taste for antiquities, and he, as I happen to know, +picked it up at a sale and had no notion where it came from. It’s a +large thing--three feet across and two feet high--and it leans at the +back of a side-table on my left as I write. The frame is flat, about +three inches across, and very old; far too old for hall-marks or other +methods of determining its age. The glass part projects, with a bevelled +edge, and has the magnificent reflecting power which is only, as it +seems to me, to be found in very old mirrors. There’s a feeling of +perspective when you look into it such as no modern glass can ever give. + +The mirror is so situated that as I sit at the table I can usually see +nothing in it but the reflection of the red window curtains. But a queer +thing happened last night. I had been working for some hours, very much +against the grain, with continual bouts of that mistiness of which I had +complained. Again and again I had to stop and clear my eyes. Well, +on one of these occasions I chanced to look at the mirror. It had the +oddest appearance. The red curtains which should have been reflected in +it were no longer there, but the glass seemed to be clouded and steamy, +not on the surface, which glittered like steel, but deep down in the +very grain of it. This opacity, when I stared hard at it, appeared +to slowly rotate this way and that, until it was a thick white cloud +swirling in heavy wreaths. So real and solid was it, and so reasonable +was I, that I remember turning, with the idea that the curtains were +on fire. But everything was deadly still in the room--no sound save the +ticking of the clock, no movement save the slow gyration of that strange +woolly cloud deep in the heart of the old mirror. + +Then, as I looked, the mist, or smoke, or cloud, or whatever one may +call it, seemed to coalesce and solidify at two points quite close +together, and I was aware, with a thrill of interest rather than of +fear, that these were two eyes looking out into the room. A vague +outline of a head I could see--a woman’s by the hair, but this was very +shadowy. Only the eyes were quite distinct; such eyes--dark, luminous, +filled with some passionate emotion, fury or horror, I could not say +which. Never have I seen eyes which were so full of intense, vivid life. +They were not fixed upon me, but stared out into the room. Then as I sat +erect, passed my hand over my brow, and made a strong conscious effort +to pull myself together, the dim head faded into the general opacity, +the mirror slowly cleared, and there were the red curtains once again. + +A sceptic would say, no doubt, that I had dropped asleep over my +figures, and that my experience was a dream. As a matter of fact, I was +never more vividly awake in my life. I was able to argue about it +even as I looked at it, and to tell myself that it was a subjective +impression--a chimera of the nerves--begotten by worry and insomnia. +But why this particular shape? And who is the woman, and what is the +dreadful emotion which I read in those wonderful brown eyes? They come +between me and my work. For the first time I have done less than the +daily tally which I had marked out. Perhaps that is why I have had no +abnormal sensations tonight. Tomorrow I must wake up, come what may. + +Jan. 11.--All well, and good progress with my work. I wind the net, coil +after coil, round that bulky body. But the last smile may remain with +him if my own nerves break over it. The mirror would seem to be a sort +of barometer which marks my brain-pressure. Each night I have observed +that it had clouded before I reached the end of my task. + +Dr. Sinclair (who is, it seems, a bit of a psychologist) was so +interested in my account that he came round this evening to have a look +at the mirror. I had observed that something was scribbled in crabbed +old characters upon the metal-work at the back. He examined this with +a lens, but could make nothing of it. “Sanc. X. Pal.” was his final +reading of it, but that did not bring us any farther. He advised me to +put it away into another room; but, after all, whatever I may see in +it is, by his own account only a symptom. It is in the cause that the +danger lies. The twenty ledgers--not the silver mirror--should be packed +away if I could only do it. I’m at the eighth now, so I progress. + +Jan. 13.-Perhaps it would have been wiser after all if I had packed away +the mirror. I had an extraordinary experience with it last night. And +yet I find it so interesting, so fascinating, that even now I will keep +it in its place. What on earth is the meaning of it all? + +I suppose it was about one in the morning, and I was closing my books +preparatory to staggering off to bed, when I saw her there in front of +me. The stage of mistiness and development must have passed unobserved, +and there she was in all her beauty and passion and distress, as +clear-cut as if she were really in the flesh before me. The figure +was small, but very distinct--so much so that every feature, and every +detail of dress, are stamped in my memory. She is seated on the extreme +left of the mirror. A sort of shadowy figure crouches down beside her--I +can dimly discern that it is a man--and then behind them is cloud, in +which I see figures--figures which move. It is not a mere picture upon +which I look. It is a scene in life, an actual episode. She crouches and +quivers. The man beside her cowers down. The vague figures make abrupt +movements and gestures. All my fears were swallowed up in my interest. +It was maddening to see so much and not to see more. + +But I can at least describe the woman to the smallest point. She is +very beautiful and quite young--not more than five-and-twenty, I should +judge. Her hair is of a very rich brown, with a warm chestnut shade +fining into gold at the edges. A little flat-pointed cap comes to an +angle in front, and is made of lace edged with pearls. The forehead is +high, too high perhaps for perfect beauty; but one would not have it +otherwise, as it gives a touch of power and strength to what would +otherwise be a softly feminine face. The brows are most delicately +curved over heavy eyelids, and then come those wonderful eyes--so +large, so dark, so full of over-mastering emotion, of rage and horror, +contending with a pride of self-control which holds her from sheer +frenzy! The cheeks are pale, the lips white with agony, the chin and +throat most exquisitely rounded. The figure sits and leans forward in +the chair, straining and rigid, cataleptic with horror. The dress is +black velvet, a jewel gleams like a flame in the breast, and a golden +crucifix smoulders in the shadow of a fold. This is the lady whose image +still lives in the old silver mirror. What dire deed could it be which +has left its impress there, so that now, in another age, if the spirit +of a man be but worn down to it, he may be conscious of its presence? + +One other detail: On the left side of the skirt of the black dress was, +as I thought at first, a shapeless bunch of white ribbon. Then, as I +looked more intently or as the vision defined itself more clearly, I +perceived what it was. It was the hand of a man, clenched and knotted in +agony, which held on with a convulsive grasp to the fold of the dress. +The rest of the crouching figure was a mere vague outline, but that +strenuous hand shone clear on the dark background, with a +sinister suggestion of tragedy in its frantic clutch. The man is +frightened-horribly frightened. That I can clearly discern. What has +terrified him so? Why does he grip the woman’s dress? The answer lies +amongst those moving figures in the background. They have brought danger +both to him and to her. The interest of the thing fascinated me. I +thought no more of its relation to my own nerves. I stared and stared +as if in a theatre. But I could get no farther. The mist thinned. +There were tumultuous movements in which all the figures were vaguely +concerned. Then the mirror was clear once more. + +The doctor says I must drop work for a day, and I can afford to do +so, for I have made good progress lately. It is quite evident that the +visions depend entirely upon my own nervous state, for I sat in front of +the mirror for an hour tonight, with no result whatever. My soothing day +has chased them away. I wonder whether I shall ever penetrate what they +all mean? I examined the mirror this evening under a good light, and +besides the mysterious inscription “Sanc. X. Pal.,” I was able to +discern some signs of heraldic marks, very faintly visible upon the +silver. They must be very ancient, as they are almost obliterated. So +far as I could make out, they were three spear-heads, two above and one +below. I will show them to the doctor when he calls tomorrow. + +Jan. 14.--Feel perfectly well again, and I intend that nothing else +shall stop me until my task is finished. The doctor was shown the marks +on the mirror and agreed that they were armorial bearings. He is deeply +interested in all that I have told him, and cross-questioned me +closely on the details. It amuses me to notice how he is torn in two by +conflicting desires--the one that his patient should lose his symptoms, +the other that the medium--for so he regards me--should solve this +mystery of the past. He advised continued rest, but did not oppose me +too violently when I declared that such a thing was out of the question +until the ten remaining ledgers have been checked. + +Jan. 17.--For three nights I have had no experiences--my day of rest has +borne fruit. Only a quarter of my task is left, but I must make a forced +march, for the lawyers are clamouring for their material. I will give +them enough and to spare. I have him fast on a hundred counts. When they +realize what a slippery, cunning rascal he is, I should gain some credit +from the case. False trading accounts, false balance-sheets, dividends +drawn from capital, losses written down as profits, suppression of +working expenses, manipulation of petty cash--it is a fine record! + +Jan. 18.--Headaches, nervous twitches, mistiness, fullness of the +temples--all the premonitions of trouble, and the trouble came sure +enough. And yet my real sorrow is not so much that the vision should +come as that it should cease before all is revealed. + +But I saw more tonight. The crouching man was as visible as the +lady whose gown he clutched. He is a little swarthy fellow, with a +black-pointed beard. He has a loose gown of damask trimmed with fur. The +prevailing tints of his dress are red. What a fright the fellow is in, +to be sure! He cowers and shivers and glares back over his shoulder. +There is a small knife in his other hand, but he is far too tremulous +and cowed to use it. Dimly now I begin to see the figures in the +background. Fierce faces, bearded and dark, shape themselves out of the +mist. There is one terrible creature, a skeleton of a man, with hollow +cheeks and eyes sunk in his head. He also has a knife in his hand. On +the right of the woman stands a tall man, very young, with flaxen hair, +his face sullen and dour. The beautiful woman looks up at him in appeal. +So does the man on the ground. This youth seems to be the arbiter of +their fate. The crouching man draws closer and hides himself in the +woman’s skirts. The tall youth bends and tries to drag her away from +him. So much I saw last night before the mirror cleared. Shall I never +know what it leads to and whence it comes? It is not a mere imagination, +of that I am very sure. Somewhere, some time, this scene has been acted, +and this old mirror has reflected it. But when--where? + +Jan. 20.--My work draws to a close, and it is time. I feel a tenseness +within my brain, a sense of intolerable strain, which warns me that +something must give. I have worked myself to the limit. But tonight +should be the last night. With a supreme effort I should finish the +final ledger and complete the case before I rise from my chair. I will +do it. I will. + +Feb. 7.--I did. My God, what an experience! I hardly know if I am strong +enough yet to set it down. + +Let me explain in the first instance that I am writing this in Dr. +Sinclair’s private hospital some three weeks after the last entry in my +diary. On the night of January 20 my nervous system finally gave way, +and I remembered nothing afterwards until I found myself three days ago +in this home of rest. And I can rest with a good conscience. My work was +done before I went under. My figures are in the solicitors’ hands. The +hunt is over. + +And now I must describe that last night. I had sworn to finish my work, +and so intently did I stick to it, though my head was bursting, that I +would never look up until the last column had been added. And yet it was +fine self-restraint, for all the time I knew that wonderful things were +happening in the mirror. Every nerve in my body told me so. If I looked +up there was an end of my work. So I did not look up till all was +finished. Then, when at last with throbbing temples I threw down my pen +and raised my eyes, what a sight was there! + +The mirror in its silver frame was like a stage, brilliantly lit, in +which a drama was in progress. There was no mist now. The oppression +of my nerves had wrought this amazing clarity. Every feature, every +movement, was as clear-cut as in life. To think that I, a tired +accountant, the most prosaic of mankind, with the account-books of a +swindling bankrupt before me, should be chosen of all the human race to +look upon such a scene! + +It was the same scene and the same figures, but the drama had advanced +a stage. The tall young man was holding the woman in his arms. She +strained away from him and looked up at him with loathing in her face. +They had torn the crouching man away from his hold upon the skirt of +her dress. A dozen of them were round him--savage men, bearded men. They +hacked at him with knives. All seemed to strike him together. Their +arms rose and fell. The blood did not flow from him-it squirted. His red +dress was dabbled in it. He threw himself this way and that, purple upon +crimson, like an over-ripe plum. Still they hacked, and still the jets +shot from him. It was horrible--horrible! They dragged him kicking to +the door. The woman looked over her shoulder at him and her mouth gaped. +I heard nothing, but I knew that she was screaming. And then, whether it +was this nerve-racking vision before me, or whether, my task finished, +all the overwork of the past weeks came in one crushing weight upon me, +the room danced round me, the floor seemed to sink away beneath my feet, +and I remembered no more. In the early morning my landlady found me +stretched senseless before the silver mirror, but I knew nothing myself +until three days ago I awoke in the deep peace of the doctor’s nursing +home. + +Feb. 9.--Only today have I told Dr. Sinclair my full experience. He +had not allowed me to speak of such matters before. He listened with an +absorbed interest. “You don’t identify this with any well-known scene +in history?” he asked, with suspicion in his eyes. I assured him that I +knew nothing of history. “Have you no idea whence that mirror came and +to whom it once belonged?” he continued. “Have you?” I asked, for he +spoke with meaning. “It’s incredible,” said he, “and yet how else can +one explain it? The scenes which you described before suggested it, but +now it has gone beyond all range of coincidence. I will bring you some +notes in the evening.” + +Later.--He has just left me. Let me set down his words as closely as I +can recall them. He began by laying several musty volumes upon my bed. + +“These you can consult at your leisure,” said he. “I have some notes +here which you can confirm. There is not a doubt that what you have seen +is the murder of Rizzio by the Scottish nobles in the presence of +Mary, which occurred in March, 1566. Your description of the woman is +accurate. The high forehead and heavy eyelids combined with great beauty +could hardly apply to two women. The tall young man was her husband, +Darnley. Rizzio, says the chronicle, ‘was dressed in a loose +dressing-gown of furred damask, with hose of russet velvet.’ With one +hand he clutched Mary’s gown, with the other he held a dagger. Your +fierce, hollow-eyed man was Ruthven, who was new-risen from a bed of +sickness. Every detail is exact.” + +“But why to me?” I asked, in bewilderment. “Why of all the human race to +me?” + +“Because you were in the fit mental state to receive the impression. +Because you chanced to own the mirror which gave the impression.” + +“The mirror! You think, then, that it was Mary’s mirror--that it stood +in the room where the deed was done?” + +“I am convinced that it was Mary’s mirror. She had been Queen of France. +Her personal property would be stamped with the Royal arms. What you +took to be three spear-heads were really the lilies of France.” + +“And the inscription?” + +“‘Sanc. X. Pal.’ You can expand it into Sanctae Crucis Palatium. Some +one has made a note upon the mirror as to whence it came. It was the +Palace of the Holy Cross.” + +“Holyrood!” I cried. + +“Exactly. Your mirror came from Holyrood. You have had one very singular +experience, and have escaped. I trust that you will never put yourself +into the way of having such another.” + + + + +THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY + + +Sharkey, the abominable Sharkey, was out again. After two years of the +Coromandel coast, his black barque of death, _The Happy Delivery_, was +prowling off the Spanish Main, while trader and fisher flew for dear +life at the menace of that patched fore-topsail, rising slowly over the +violet rim of the tropical sea. + +As the birds cower when the shadow of the hawk falls athwart the field, +or as the jungle folk crouch and shiver when the coughing cry of the +tiger is heard in the night-time, so through all the busy world of +ships, from the whalers of Nantucket to the tobacco ships of Charleston, +and from the Spanish supply ships of Cadiz to the sugar merchants of the +Main, there spread the rumour of the black curse of the ocean. + +Some hugged the shore, ready to make for the nearest port, while others +struck far out beyond the known lines of commerce, but none were +so stout-hearted that they did not breathe more freely when their +passengers and cargoes were safe under the guns of some mothering fort. + +Through all the islands there ran tales of charred derelicts at sea, +of sudden glares seen afar in the night-time, and of withered bodies +stretched upon the sand of waterless Bahama Keys. All the old signs were +there to show that Sharkey was at his bloody game once more. + +These fair waters and yellow-rimmed, palm-nodding islands are +the traditional home of the sea rover. First it was the gentleman +adventurer, the man of family and honour, who fought as a patriot, +though he was ready to take his payment in Spanish plunder. + +Then, within a century, his debonnaire figure had passed to make room +for the buccaneers, robbers pure and simple, yet with some organized +code of their own, commanded by notable chieftains, and taking in hand +great concerted enterprises. + +They, too, passed with their fleets and their sacking of cities, to make +room for the worst of all, the lonely outcast pirate, the bloody Ishmael +of the seas, at war with the whole human race. This was the vile brood +which the early eighteenth century had spawned forth, and of them all +there was none who could compare in audacity, wickedness, and evil +repute with the unutterable Sharkey. + +It was early in May, in the year 1720, that _The Happy Delivery_ lay +with her fore-yard aback some five leagues west of the Windward Passage, +waiting to see what rich, helpless craft the trade-wind might bring down +to her. + +Three days she had lain there, a sinister black speck, in the centre of +the great sapphire circle of the ocean. Far to the south-east the low +blue hills of Hispaniola showed up on the skyline. + +Hour by hour as he waited without avail, Sharkey’s savage temper had +risen, for his arrogant spirit chafed against any contradiction, even +from Fate itself. To his quartermaster, Ned Galloway, he had said +that night, with his odious neighing laugh, that the crew of the next +captured vessel should answer to him for having kept him waiting so +long. + +The cabin of the pirate barque was a good-sized room, hung with +much tarnished finery, and presenting a strange medley of luxury and +disorder. The panelling of carved and polished sandal-wood was blotched +with foul smudges and chipped with bullet-marks fired in some drunken +revelry. + +Rich velvets and laces were heaped upon the brocaded settees, while +metal-work and pictures of great price filled every niche and corner, +for anything which caught the pirate’s fancy in the sack of a hundred +vessels was thrown haphazard into his chamber. A rich, soft carpet +covered the floor, but it was mottled with wine-stains and charred with +burned tobacco. + +Above, a great brass hanging-lamp threw a brilliant yellow light +upon this singular apartment, and upon the two men who sat in their +shirt-sleeves with the wine between them, and the cards in their hands, +deep in a game of piquet. Both were smoking long pipes, and the thin +blue reek filled the cabin and floated through the skylight above them, +which, half opened, disclosed a slip of deep violet sky spangled with +great silver stars. + +Ned Galloway, the quartermaster, was a huge New England wastrel, the one +rotten branch upon a goodly Puritan family tree. His robust limbs and +giant frame were the heritage of a long line of God-fearing ancestors, +while his black savage heart was all his own. Bearded to the temples, +with fierce blue eyes, a tangled lion’s mane of coarse, dark hair, +and huge gold rings in his ears, he was the idol of the women in every +waterside hell from the Tortugas to Maracaibo on the Main. A red cap, +a blue silken shirt, brown velvet breeches with gaudy knee-ribbons, and +high sea-boots made up the costume of the rover Hercules. + +A very different figure was Captain John Sharkey. His thin, drawn, +clean-shaven face was corpse-like in its pallor, and all the suns of the +Indies could but turn it to a more deathly parchment tint. He was +part bald, with a few lank locks of tow-like hair, and a steep, narrow +forehead. His thin nose jutted sharply forth, and near-set on either +side of it were those filmy blue eyes, red-rimmed like those of a white +bull-terrier, from which strong men winced away in fear and loathing. +His bony hands, with long, thin fingers which quivered ceaselessly like +the antennae of an insect, were toying constantly with the cards and the +heap of gold moidores which lay before him. His dress was of some sombre +drab material, but, indeed, the men who looked upon that fearsome face +had little thought for the costume of its owner. + +The game was brought to a sudden interruption, for the cabin door was +swung rudely open, and two rough fellows--Israel Martin, the boatswain, +and Red Foley, the gunner--rushed into the cabin. In an instant Sharkey +was on his feet with a pistol in either hand and murder in his eyes. + +“Sink you for villains!” he cried. “I see well that if I do not shoot +one of you from time to time you will forget the man I am. What mean you +by entering my cabin as though it were a Wapping alehouse?” + +“Nay, Captain Sharkey,” said Martin, with a sullen frown upon his +brick-red face, “it is even such talk as this which has set us by the +ears. We have had enough of it.” + +“And more than enough,” said Red Foley, the gunner. “There be no +mates aboard a pirate craft, and so the boatswain, the gunner, and the +quarter-master are the officers.” + +“Did I gainsay it?” asked Sharkey with an oath. + +“You have miscalled us and mishandled us before the men, and we scarce +know at this moment why we should risk our lives in fighting for the +cabin and against the foc’sle.” + +Sharkey saw that something serious was in the wind. He laid down his +pistols and leaned back in his chair with a flash of his yellow fangs. + +“Nay, this is sad talk,” said he, “that two stout fellows who have +emptied many a bottle and cut many a throat with me, should now fall out +over nothing. I know you to be roaring boys who would go with me against +the devil himself if I bid you. Let the steward bring cups and drown all +unkindness between us.” + +“It is no time for drinking, Captain Sharkey,” said Martin. “The men are +holding council round the mainmast, and may be aft at any minute. They +mean mischief, Captain Sharkey, and we have come to warn you.” + +Sharkey sprang for the brass-handled sword which hung from the wall. + +“Sink them for rascals!” he cried. “When I have gutted one or two of +them they may hear reason.” + +But the others barred his frantic way to the door. + +“There are forty of them under the lead of Sweetlocks, the master,” said +Martin, “and on the open deck they would surely cut you to pieces. Here +within the cabin it may be that we can hold them off at the points of +our pistols.” + +He had hardly spoken when there came the tread of many heavy feet upon +the deck. Then there was a pause with no sound but the gentle lipping +of the water against the sides of the pirate vessel. Finally, a crashing +blow as from a pistol-butt fell upon the door, and an instant afterwards +Sweetlocks himself, a tall, dark man, with a deep red birthmark blazing +upon his cheek, strode into the cabin. His swaggering air sank somewhat +as he looked into those pale and filmy eyes. + +“Captain Sharkey,” said he, “I come as spokesman of the crew.” + +“So I have heard, Sweetlocks,” said the captain, softly. “I may live to +rip you the length of your vest for this night’s work.” + +“That is as it may be, Captain Sharkey,” the master answered, “but if +you will look up you will see that I have those at my back who will not +see me mishandled.” + +“Cursed if we do!” growled a deep voice from above, and glancing upwards +the officers in the cabin were aware of a line of fierce, bearded, +sun-blackened faces looking down at them through the open skylight. + +“Well, what would you have?” asked Sharkey. “Put it in words, man, and +let us have an end of it.” + +“The men think,” said Sweetlocks, “that you are the devil himself, and +that there will be no luck for them whilst they sail the sea in such +company. Time was when we did our two or three craft a day, and every +man had women and dollars to his liking, but now for a long week we have +not raised a sail, and save for three beggarly sloops, have taken never +a vessel since we passed the Bahama Bank. Also, they know that you +killed Jack Bartholomew, the carpenter, by beating his head in with a +bucket, so that each of us goes in fear of his life. Also, the rum has +given out, and we are hard put to it for liquor. Also, you sit in your +cabin whilst it is in the articles that you should drink and roar with +the crew. For all these reasons it has been this day in general meeting +decreed--” + +Sharkey had stealthily cocked a pistol under the table, so it may have +been as well for the mutinous master that he never reached the end of +his discourse, for even as he came to it there was a swift patter of +feet upon the deck, and a ship lad, wild with his tidings, rushed into +the room. + +“A craft!” he yelled. “A great craft, and close aboard us!” + +In a flash the quarrel was forgotten, and the pirates were rushing to +quarters. Sure enough, surging slowly down before the gentle trade-wind, +a great full-rigged ship, with all sail set, was close beside them. + +It was clear that she had come from afar and knew nothing of the ways of +the Caribbean Sea, for she made no effort to avoid the low, dark craft +which lay so close upon her bow, but blundered on as if her mere size +would avail her. + +So daring was she, that for an instant the Rovers, as they flew to loose +the tackles of their guns, and hoisted their battle-lanterns, believed +that a man-of-war had caught them napping. + +But at the sight of her bulging, portless sides and merchant rig a shout +of exultation broke from amongst them, and in an instant they had swung +round their fore-yard, and darting alongside they had grappled with her +and flung a spray of shrieking, cursing ruffians upon her deck. + +Half a dozen seamen of the night-watch were cut down where they stood, +the mate was felled by Sharkey and tossed overboard by Ned Galloway, and +before the sleepers had time to sit up in their berths, the vessel was +in the hands of the pirates. + +The prize proved to be the full-rigged ship _Portobello_--Captain Hardy, +master--bound from London to Kingston in Jamaica, with a cargo of cotton +goods and hoop-iron. + +Having secured their prisoners, all huddled together in a dazed, +distracted group, the pirates spread over the vessel in search of +plunder, handing all that was found to the giant quartermaster, who in +turn passed it over the side of _The Happy Delivery_ and laid it under +guard at the foot of her mainmast. + +The cargo was useless, but there were a thousand guineas in the ship’s +strong-box, and there were some eight or ten passengers, three of them +wealthy Jamaica merchants, all bringing home well-filled boxes from +their London visit. + +When all the plunder was gathered, the passengers and crew were dragged +to the waist, and under the cold smile of Sharkey each in turn was +thrown over the side--Sweetlocks standing by the rail and ham-stringing +them with his cutlass as they passed over, lest some strong swimmer +should rise in judgment against them. A portly, grey-haired woman, the +wife of one of the planters, was among the captives, but she also was +thrust screaming and clutching over the side. + +“Mercy, you hussy!” neighed Sharkey, “you are surely a good twenty years +too old for that.” + +The captain of the _Portobello_, a hale, blue-eyed grey-beard, was the +last upon the deck. He stood, a thick-set resolute figure, in the glare +of the lanterns, while Sharkey bowed and smirked before him. + +“One skipper should show courtesy to another,” said he, “and sink me if +Captain Sharkey would be behind in good manners! I have held you to the +last, as you see, where a brave man should be; so now, my bully, you +have seen the end of them, and may step over with an easy mind.” + +“So I shall, Captain Sharkey,” said the old seaman, “for I have done my +duty so far as my power lay. But before I go over I would say a word in +your ear.” + +“If it be to soften me, you may save your breath. You have kept us +waiting here for three days, and curse me if one of you shall live!” + +“Nay, it is to tell you what you should know. You have not yet found +what is the true treasure aboard of this ship.” + +“Not found it? Sink me, but I will slice your liver, Captain Hardy, if +you do not make good your words! Where is this treasure you speak of?” + “It is not a treasure of gold, but it is a fair maid, which may be no +less welcome.” + +“Where is she, then? And why is she not with the others?” + +“I will tell you why she is not with the others. She is the only +daughter of the Count and Countess Ramirez, who are amongst those whom +you have murdered. Her name is Inez Ramirez, and she is of the best +blood of Spain, her father being Governor of Chagre, to which he was now +bound. It chanced that she was found to have formed an attachment, as +maids will, to one far beneath her in rank aboard this ship; so her +parents, being people of great power, whose word is not to be gainsaid, +constrained me to confine her close in a special cabin aft of my own. +Here she was held straitly, all food being carried to her, and she +allowed to see no one. This I tell you as a last gift, though why I +should make it to you I do not know, for indeed you are a most bloody +rascal, and it comforts me in dying to think that you will surely be +gallow’s-meat in this world, and hell’s-meat in the next.” + +At the words he ran to the rail, and vaulted over into the darkness, +praying as he sank into the depths of the sea, that the betrayal of this +maid might not be counted too heavily against his soul. + +The body of Captain Hardy had not yet settled upon the sand forty +fathoms deep before the pirates had rushed along the cabin gangway. +There, sure enough, at the further end, was a barred door, overlooked in +their previous search. There was no key, but they beat it in with their +gunstocks, whilst shriek after shriek came from within. In the light of +their outstretched lanterns they saw a young woman, in the very prime +and fullness of her youth, crouching in a corner, her unkempt hair +hanging to the ground, her dark eyes glaring with fear, her lovely form +straining away in horror from this inrush of savage blood-stained men. +Rough hands seized her, she was jerked to her feet, and dragged with +scream on scream to where John Sharkey awaited her. He held the light +long and fondly to her face, then, laughing loudly, he bent forward and +left his red hand-print upon her cheek. + +“‘Tis the Rover’s brand, lass, that he marks his ewes. Take her to the +cabin and use her well. Now, hearties, get her under water, and out to +our luck once more.” + +Within an hour the good ship _Portobello_ had settled down to her doom, +till she lay beside her murdered passengers upon the Caribbean sand, +while the pirate barque, her deck littered with plunder, was heading +northward in search of another victim. + +There was a carouse that night in the cabin of _The Happy Delivery_, at +which three men drank deep. They were the captain, the quartermaster, +and Baldy Stable, the surgeon, a man who had held the first practice in +Charleston, until, misusing a patient, he fled from justice, and took +his skill over to the pirates. A bloated fat man he was, with a creased +neck and a great shining scalp, which gave him his name. Sharkey had put +for the moment all thought of the mutiny out of his head, knowing that +no animal is fierce when it is over-fed, and that whilst the plunder of +the great ship was new to them he need fear no trouble from his crew. +He gave himself up, therefore, to the wine and the riot, shouting and +roaring with his boon companions. All three were flushed and mad, ripe +for any devilment, when the thought of the woman crossed the pirate’s +evil mind. He yelled to the negro steward that he should bring her on +the instant. + +Inez Ramirez had now realized it all--the death of her father and +mother, and her own position in the hands of their murderers. Yet +calmness had come with the knowledge, and there was no sign of terror +in her proud, dark face as she was led into the cabin, but rather a +strange, firm set of the mouth and an exultant gleam of the eyes, like +one who sees great hopes in the future. She smiled at the pirate captain +as he rose and seized her by the waist. + +“‘Fore God! this is a lass of spirit,” cried Sharkey, passing his arm +round her. “She was born to be a Rover’s bride. Come, my bird, and drink +to our better friendship.” + +“Article Six!” hiccoughed the doctor. “All _bona robas_ in common.” + +“Aye! we hold you to that, Captain Sharkey,” said Galloway. “It is so +writ in Article Six.” + +“I will cut the man into ounces who comes betwixt us!” cried Sharkey, as +he turned his fish-like eyes from one to the other. “Nay, lass, the man +is not born that will take you from John Sharkey. Sit here upon my knee, +and place your arm round me so. Sink me, if she has not learned to love +me at sight! Tell me, my pretty, why you were so mishandled and laid in +the bilboes aboard yonder craft?” + +The woman shook her head and smiled. “No Inglese--no Inglese,” she +lisped. She had drunk off the bumper of wine which Sharkey held to +her, and her dark eyes gleamed more brightly than before. Sitting on +Sharkey’s knee, her arm encircled his neck, and her hand toyed with +his hair, his ear, his cheek. Even the strange quartermaster and the +hardened surgeon felt a horror as they watched her, but Sharkey laughed +in his joy. “Curse me, if she is not a lass of metal!” he cried, as he +pressed her to him and kissed her unresisting lips. + +But a strange intent look of interest had come into the surgeon’s eyes +as he watched her, and his face set rigidly, as if a fearsome thought +had entered his mind. There stole a grey pallor over his bull face, +mottling all the red of the tropics and the flush of the wine. + +“Look at her hand, Captain Sharkey!” he cried. “For the Lord’s sake, +look at her hand!” + +Sharkey stared down at the hand which had fondled him. It was of a +strange dead pallor, with a yellow shiny web betwixt the fingers. All +over it was a white fluffy dust, like the flour of a new-baked loaf. It +lay thick on Sharkey’s neck and cheek. With a cry of disgust he flung +the woman from his lap; but in an instant, with a wild-cat bound, and a +scream of triumphant malice, she had sprung at the surgeon, who vanished +yelling under the table. One of her clawing hands grasped Galloway by +the beard, but he tore himself away, and snatching a pike, held her off +from him as she gibbered and mowed with the blazing eyes of a maniac. + +The black steward had run in on the sudden turmoil, and among them they +forced the mad creature back into a cabin and turned the key upon her. +Then the three sank panting into their chairs, and looked with eyes +of horror upon each other. The same word was in the mind of each, but +Galloway was the first to speak it. + +“A leper!” he cried. “She has us all, curse her!” + +“Not me,” said the surgeon; “she never laid her finger on me.” + +“For that matter,” cried Galloway, “it was but my beard that she +touched. I will have every hair of it off before morning.” + +“Dolts that we were!” the surgeon shouted, beating his head with his +hand. “Tainted or no, we shall never know a moment’s peace till the year +is up and the time of danger past. ‘Fore God, that merchant skipper has +left his mark on us, and pretty fools we were to think that such a maid +would be quarantined for the cause he gave. It is easy to see now that +her corruption broke forth in the journey, and that save throwing her +over they had no choice but to board her up until they should come to +some port with a lazarette.” + +Sharkey had sat leaning back in his chair with a ghastly face while +he listened to the surgeon’s words. He mopped himself with his red +handkerchief, and wiped away the fatal dust with which he was smeared. + +“What of me?” he croaked. “What say you, Baldy Stable? Is there a chance +for me? Curse you for a villain! speak out, or I will drub you within an +inch of your life, and that inch also! Is there a chance for me, I say?” + +But the surgeon shook his head. “Captain Sharkey,” said he, “it would be +an ill deed to speak you false. The taint is on you. No man on whom the +leper scales have rested is ever clean again.” + +Sharkey’s head fell forward on his chest, and he sat motionless, +stricken by this great and sudden horror, looking with his smouldering +eyes into his fearsome future. Softly the mate and the surgeon rose from +their places, and stealing out from the poisoned air of the cabin, came +forth into the freshness of the early dawn, with the soft, scent-laden +breeze in their faces and the first red feathers of cloud catching the +earliest gleam of the rising sun as it shot its golden rays over the +palm-clad ridges of distant Hispaniola. + +That morning a second council of the Rovers was held at the base of +the mainmast, and a deputation chosen to see the captain. They were +approaching the after-cabins when Sharkey came forth, the old devil in +his eyes, and his bandolier with a pair of pistols over his shoulder. + +“Sink you all for villains!” he cried, “Would you dare to cross my +hawse? Stand out, Sweetlocks, and I will lay you open! Here, Galloway, +Martin, Foley, stand by me and lash the dogs to their kennel!” + +But his officers had deserted him, and there was none to come to his +aid. There was a rush of the pirates. One was shot through the body, but +an instant afterwards Sharkey had been seized and was triced to his own +mainmast. His filmy eyes looked round from face to face, and there was +none who felt the happier for having met them. + +“Captain Sharkey,” said Sweetlocks, “you have mishandled many of us, and +you have now pistolled John Masters, besides killing Bartholomew, the +carpenter, by braining him with a bucket. All this might have been +forgiven you, in that you have been our leader for years, and that we +have signed articles to serve under you while the voyage lasts. But +now we have heard of this bona roba on board, and we know that you are +poisoned to the marrow, and that while you rot there will be no +safety for any of us, but that we shall all be turned into filth and +corruption. Therefore, John Sharkey, we Rovers of _The Happy Delivery_, +in council assembled, have decreed that while there be yet time, before +the plague spreads, you shall be set adrift in a boat to find such a +fate as Fortune may be pleased to send you.” + +John Sharkey said nothing, but slowly circling his head, he cursed them +all with his baleful gaze. The ship’s dinghy had been lowered, and he +with his hands still tied, was dropped into it on the bight of a rope. + +“Cast her off!” cried Sweetlocks. + +“Nay, hold hard a moment, Master Sweetlocks!” shouted one of the crew. +“What of the wench? Is she to bide aboard and poison us all?” + +“Send her off with her mate!” cried another, and the Rovers roared their +approval. Driven forth at the end of pikes, the girl was pushed towards +the boat. With all the spirit of Spain in her rotting body she flashed +triumphant glances on her captors. “Perros! Perros Ingleses! Lepero, +Lepero!” she cried in exultation, as they thrust her over into the boat. + +“Good luck, captain! God speed you on your honeymoon!” cried a chorus of +mocking voices, as the painter was unloosed, and _The Happy Delivery_, +running full before the trade-wind, left the little boat astern, a tiny +dot upon the vast expanse of the lonely sea. + + +Extract from the log of H.M. fifty-gun ship _Hecate_ in her cruise off +the American Main. + +“Jan. 26, 1721.--This day, the junk having become unfit for food, and +five of the crew down with scurvy, I ordered that we send two boats +ashore at the nor’-western point of Hispaniola, to seek for fresh fruit, +and perchance shoot some of the wild oxen with which the island abounds. + +“7 p.m.--The boats have returned with good store of green stuff and two +bullocks. Mr. Woodruff, the master, reports that near the landing-place +at the edge of the forest was found the skeleton of a woman, clad in +European dress, of such sort as to show that she may have been a person +of quality. Her head had been crushed by a great stone which lay beside +her. Hard by was a grass hut, and signs that a man had dwelt therein for +some time, as was shown by charred wood, bones and other traces. There +is a rumour upon the coast that Sharkey, the bloody pirate, was marooned +in these parts last year, but whether he has made his way into the +interior, or whether he has been picked up by some craft, there is no +means of knowing. If he be once again afloat, then I pray that God send +him under our guns.” + + + + +THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER + + +I am speaking, my friends, of days which are long gone by, when I had +scarcely begun to build up that fame which has made my name so familiar. +Among the thirty officers of the Hussars of Conflans there was nothing +to indicate that I was superior in any way to the others. I can well +imagine how surprised they would all have been had they realized that +young Lieutenant Etienne Gerard was destined for so glorious a career, +and would live to command a brigade and to receive from the Emperor’s +own hands that cross which I can show you any time that you do me the +honour to visit me in my little cottage. You know, do you not, the +little white-washed cottage with the vine in front, in the field beside +the Garonne? + +People have said of me that I have never known what fear was. No doubt +you have heard them say it. For many years, out of a foolish pride, I +have let the saying pass. And yet now, in my old age, I can afford to +be honest. The brave man dares to be frank. It is only the coward who is +afraid to make admissions. So I tell you now that I also am human; that +I also have felt my skin grow cold, and my hair rise; that I have even +known what it was to run away until my limbs could scarce support me. It +shocks you to hear it? Well, some day it may comfort you, when your own +courage has reached its limits, to know that even Etienne Gerard has +known what it was to be afraid. I will tell you now how this experience +befell me, and also how it brought me a wife. + +For the moment France was at peace, and we, the Hussars of Conflans, +were in camp all that summer a few miles from the town of Les Andelys +in Normandy. It is not a very gay place by itself, but we of the Light +Cavalry make all places gay which we visit, and so we passed our time +very pleasantly. Many years and many scenes have dulled my remembrance, +but still the name Les Andelys brings back to me a huge ruined castle, +great orchards of apple trees, and above all, a vision of the lovely +maidens of Normandy. They were the very finest of their sex, as we may +be said to have been of ours, and so we were well met in that sweet +sunlit summer. Ah, the youth, the beauty, the valour, and then the dull, +dead years that blurr them all! There are times when the glorious +past weighs on my heart like lead. No, sir, no wine can wash away such +thoughts, for they are of the spirit and the soul. It is only the gross +body which responds to wine, but if you offer it for that, then I will +not refuse it. + +Now of all the maidens who dwelt in those parts there was one who was +so superior in beauty and in charm that she seemed to be very specially +marked out for me. Her name was Marie Ravon, and her people, the Ravons, +were of yeoman stock who had farmed their own land in those parts since +the days when Duke William went to England. If I close my eyes now, I +see her as she then was, her cheeks, dusky like moss roses; her hazel +eyes, so gentle and yet so full of spirit; her hair of that deepest +black which goes most fitly with poetry and with passion; her finger as +supple as a young birch tree in the wind. Ah! how she swayed away from +me when first I laid my arm round it, for she was full of fire and +pride, ever evading, ever resisting, fighting to the last that her +surrender might be the more sweet. Out of a hundred and forty women--But +who can compare where all are so near perfection! + +You will wonder why it should be, if this maiden was so beautiful, +that I should be left without a rival. There was a very good reason, my +friends, for I so arranged it that my rivals were in the hospital. There +was Hippolyte Lesoeur, he visited them for two Sundays; but if he lives, +I dare swear that he still limps from the bullet which lodges in his +knee. Poor Victor also--up to his death at Austerlitz he wore my mark. +Soon it was understood that if I could not win Marie, I should at least +have a fair field in which to try. It was said in our camp that it was +safer to charge a square of unbroken infantry than to be seen too often +at the farmhouse of the Ravons. + +Now let me be precise for a moment. Did I wish to marry Marie? Ah! my +friends, marriage is not for a Hussar. Today he is in Normandy; tomorrow +he is in the hills of Spain or in the bogs of Poland. What shall he do +with a wife? Would it be fair to either of them? Can it be right that +his courage should be blunted by the thought of the despair which his +death would bring, or is it reasonable that she should be left fearing +lest every post should bring her the news of irreparable misfortune? +A Hussar can but warm himself at the fire, and then hurry onwards, too +happy if he can but pass another fire from which some comfort may come. +And Marie, did she wish to marry me? She knew well that when our silver +trumpets blew the march it would be over the grave of our married life. +Better far to hold fast to her own people and her own soil, where she +and her husband could dwell for ever amid the rich orchards and within +sight of the great Castle of Le Galliard. Let her remember her Hussar in +her dreams, but let her waking days be spent in the world as she finds +it. Meanwhile we pushed such thoughts from our minds, and gave ourselves +up to a sweet companionship, each day complete in itself with never a +thought of the morrow. It is true that there were times when her father, +a stout old gentleman with a face like one of his own apples, and her +mother, a thin anxious woman of the country, gave me hints that they +would wish to be clearer as to my intentions; but in their hearts they +each knew well that Etienne Gerard was a man of honour, and that their +daughter was very safe as well as very happy in his keeping. So the +matter stood until the night of which I speak. + +It was the Sunday evening, and I had ridden over from the camp. There +were several of our fellows who were visiting the village, and we all +left our horses at the inn. Thence I had to walk to the Ravons, which +was only separated by a single very large field extending to the very +door. I was about to start when the landlord ran after me. “Excuse +me, lieutenant,” said he, “it is farther by the road, and yet I should +advise you to take it.” + +“It is a mile or more out of my way.” + +“I know it. But I think that it would be wiser,” and he smiled as he +spoke. + +“And why?” I asked. + +“Because,” said he, “the English bull is loose in the field.” + +If it were not for that odious smile, I might have considered it. But to +hold a danger over me and then to smile in such a fashion was more than +my proud temper could bear. I indicated by a gesture what I thought of +the English bull. + +“I will go by the shortest way,” said I. + +I had no sooner set my foot in the field than I felt that my spirit had +betrayed me into rashness. It was a very large square field, and as I +came further out into it I felt like the cockle-shell which ventures out +from land and sees no port save that from which it has issued. There was +a wall on every side of the field save that from which I had come. In +front of me was the farmhouse of the Ravons, with wall extending to +right and left. A back door opened upon the field, and there were +several windows, but all were barred, as is usual in the Norman farms. +I pushed on rapidly to the door, as being the only harbour of safety, +walking with dignity as befits a soldier, and yet with such speed as +I could summon. From the waist upwards I was unconcerned and even +debonnaire. Below, I was swift and alert. + +I had nearly reached the middle of the field when I perceived the +creature. He was rooting about with his fore feet under a large beech +tree which lay upon my right hand. I did not turn my head, nor would +the bystander have detected that I took notice of him, but my eye was +watching him with anxiety. It may have been that he was in a contented +mood, or it may have been that he was arrested by the nonchalance of my +bearing, but he made no movement in my direction. Reassured, I fixed my +eyes upon the open window of Marie’s bed-chamber, which was immediately +over the back door, in the hope that those dear, tender, dark eyes, +were surveying me from behind the curtains. I flourished my little cane, +loitered to pick a primrose, and sang one of our devil-may-care choruses +in order to insult this English beast, and to show my love how little +I cared for danger when it stood between her and me. The creature was +abashed by my fearlessness, and so, pushing open the back door, I was +able to enter the farmhouse in safety and in honour. + +And was it not worth the danger? Had all the bulls of Castile guarded +the entrance, would it not still have been worth it? Ah, the hours, the +sunny hours, which can never come back, when our youthful feet seemed +scarce to touch the ground, and we lived in a sweet dreamland of our own +creation! She honoured my courage, and she loved me for it. As she lay +with her flushed cheek pillowed against the silk of my dolman, looking +up at me with her wondering eyes, shining with love and admiration, she +marvelled at the stories in which I gave her some pictures of the true +character of her lover. + +“Has your heart never failed you? Have you never known the feeling of +fear?” she asked. I laughed at such a thought. What place could fear +have in the mind of a Hussar? Young as I was, I had given my proofs. +I told her how I had led my squadron into a square of Hungarian +Grenadiers. She shuddered as she embraced me. I told her also how I had +swum my horse over the Danube at night with a message for Davoust. To be +frank, it was not the Danube, nor was it so deep that I was compelled to +swim, but when one is twenty and in love, one tells a story as best one +can. Many such stories I told her, while her dear eyes grew more and +more amazed. + +“Never in my dreams, Etienne,” said she, “did I believe that so brave a +man existed. Lucky France that has such a soldier, lucky Marie that has +such a lover!” + +You can think how I flung myself at her feet as I murmured that I was +the luckiest of all--I who had found some one who could appreciate and +understand. + +It was a charming relationship, too infinitely sweet and delicate for +the interference of coarser minds. But you can understand that the +parents imagined that they also had their duty to do. I played dominoes +with the old man, and I wound wool for his wife, and yet they could not +be led to believe that it was from love of them that I came thrice a +week to their farm. For some time an explanation was inevitable, and +that night it came. Marie, in delightful mutiny, was packed off to her +room, and I faced the old people in the parlour as they plied me with +questions upon my prospects and my intentions. + +“One way or the other,” they said, in their blunt country fashion. “Let +us hear that you are betrothed to Marie, or let us never see your face +again.” + +I spoke of my honour, my hopes, and my future, but they remained +immovable upon the present. I pleaded my career, but they in their +selfish way would think of nothing but their daughter. It was indeed a +difficult position in which I found myself. On the one hand, I could +not forsake my Marie; on the other, what would a young Hussar do with +marriage? At last, hard pressed, I begged them to leave the matter, if +it were only for a day. + +“I will see Marie,” said I, “I will see her without delay. It is her +heart and her happiness which come before all else.” + +They were not satisfied, these grumbling old people, but they could +say no more. They bade me a short good night and I departed, full +of perplexity, for the inn. I came out by the same door which I had +entered, and I heard them lock and bar it behind me. + +I walked across the field lost in thought, with my mind entirely filled +with the arguments of the old people and the skilful replies which I +had made to them. What should I do? I had promised to see Marie without +delay. What should I say to her when I did see her? Would I surrender +to her beauty and turn my back upon my profession? If Etienne Gerard’s +sword were turned to a scythe, then indeed it was a bad day for the +Emperor and France. Or should I harden my heart and turn away from +Marie? Or was it not possible that all might be reconciled; that I might +be a happy husband in Normandy but a brave soldier elsewhere? All these +thoughts were buzzing in my head, when a sudden noise made me look up. +The moon had come from behind a cloud, and there was the bull before me. + +He had seemed a large animal beneath the beech tree, but now he appeared +enormous. He was black in colour. His head was held down, and the moon +shone upon two menacing and bloodshot eyes. His tail switched swiftly +from side to side, and his fore feet dug into the earth. A more +horrible-looking monster was never seen in a nightmare. He was moving +slowly and stealthily in my direction. + +I glanced behind me, and I found that in my distraction I had come +a very long way from the edge of the field. I was more than half-way +across it. My nearest refuge was the inn, but the bull was between me +and it. Perhaps if the creature understood how little I feared him, he +would make way for me. I shrugged my shoulders and made a gesture of +contempt. I even whistled. The creature thought I called it, for he +approached with alacrity. I kept my face boldly towards him, but I +walked swiftly backwards. When one is young and active, one can almost +run backwards and yet keep a brave and smiling face to the enemy. As I +ran I menaced the animal with my cane. Perhaps it would have been +wiser had I restrained my spirit. He regarded it as a challenge--which, +indeed, was the last thing in my mind. It was a misunderstanding, but a +fatal one. With a snort he raised his tail and charged. + +Have you ever seen a bull charge, my friends? It is a strange sight. You +think, perhaps, that he trots, or even that he gallops. No, it is worse +than this. It is a succession of bounds by which he advances, each more +menacing than the last. I have no fear of anything which man can do. +When I deal with man, I feel that the nobility of my own attitude, the +gallant ease with which I face him, will in itself go far to disarm him. +What he can do, I can do, so why should I fear him? But when it is a ton +of enraged beef with which you contend, it is another matter. You +cannot hope to argue, to soften, to conciliate. There is no resistance +possible. My proud assurance was all wasted upon the creature. In +an instant my ready wit had weighed every possible course, and had +determined that no one, not the Emperor himself, could hold his ground. +There was but one course--to fly. + +But one may fly in many ways. One may fly with dignity or one may fly in +panic. I fled, I trust, like a soldier. My bearing was superb though +my legs moved rapidly. My whole appearance was a protest against the +position in which I was placed. I smiled as I ran--the bitter smile of +the brave man who mocks his own fate. Had all my comrades surrounded +the field, they could not have thought the less of me when they saw the +disdain with which I avoided the bull. + +But here it is that I must make my confession. When once flight +commences, though it be ever so soldierly, panic follows hard upon it. +Was it not so with the Guard at Waterloo? So it was that night with +Etienne Gerard. After all, there was no one to note my bearing--no one +save this accursed bull. If for a minute I forgot my dignity, who would +be the wiser? Every moment the thunder of the hoofs and the horrible +snorts of the monster drew nearer to my heels. Horror filled me at the +thought of so ignoble a death. The brutal rage of the creature sent a +chill to my heart. In an instant everything was forgotten. There were +in the world but two creatures, the bull and I--he trying to kill me, I +striving to escape. I put down my head and I ran--I ran for my life. + +It was for the house of the Ravons that I raced. But even as I reached +it, it flashed into my mind that there was no refuge for me there. The +door was locked. The lower windows were barred. The wall was high upon +either side. And the bull was nearer me with every stride. But oh, my +friends, it is at that supreme moment of danger that Etienne Gerard +has ever risen to his height. There was one path to safety, and in an +instant I had chosen it. + +I have said that the window of Marie’s bedroom was above the door. The +curtains were closed, but the folding sides were thrown open, and a lamp +burned in the room. Young and active, I felt that I could spring high +enough to reach the edge of the window sill and to draw myself out +of danger. The monster was within touch of me as I sprang. Had I been +unaided, I should have done what I had planned. But even as in a superb +effort I rose from the earth he butted me into the air. I shot through +the curtains as if I had been fired from a gun, and I dropped upon my +hands and knees in the centre of the room. + +There was, as it appears, a bed in the window, but I had passed over +it in safety. As I staggered to my feet I turned towards it in +consternation, but it was empty. My Marie sat in a low chair in the +corner of the room, and her flushed cheeks showed that she had been +weeping. No doubt her parents had given her some account of what had +passed between us. She was too amazed to move, and could only sit +looking at me with her mouth open. + +“Etienne!” she gasped. “Etienne!” + +In an instant I was as full of resource as ever. There was but one +course for a gentleman, and I took it. + +“Marie,” I cried, “forgive, oh forgive the abruptness of my return! +Marie, I have seen your parents tonight. I could not return to the camp +without asking you whether you will make me for ever happy by promising +to be my wife?” + +It was long before she could speak, so great was her amazement. Then +every emotion was swept away in the one great flood of her admiration. + +“Oh, Etienne! my wonderful Etienne!” she cried, her arms round my neck. +“Was ever such love! Was ever such a man! As you stand there, white and +trembling with passion, you seem to me the very hero of my dreams. How +hard you breathe, my love, and what a spring it must have been which +brought you to my arms! At the instant that you came, I heard the tramp +of your war-horse without.” + +There was nothing more to explain, and when one is newly betrothed, one +finds other uses for one’s lips. But there was a scurry in the passage +and a pounding at the panels. At the crash of my arrival the old folk +had rushed to the cellar to see if the great cider cask had toppled off +the trestles, but now they were back and eager for admittance. I flung +open the door, and stood with Marie’s hand in mine. + +“Behold your son!” I said. + +Ah, the joy which I had brought to that humble household! It warms my +heart still when I think of it. It did not seem too strange to them +that I should fly in through the window, for who should be a hot-headed +suitor if it is not a gallant Hussar? And if the door be locked, then +what way is there but the window? Once more we assembled all four in +the parlour, while the cobwebbed bottle was brought up and the ancient +glories of the House of Ravon were unrolled before me. Once more I see +the heavy-raftered room, the two old smiling faces, the golden circle +of the lamp-light, and she, my Marie, the bride of my youth, won so +strangely, and kept for so short a time. + +It was late when we parted. The old man came with me into the hall. + +“You can go by the front door or the back,” said he. “The back way is +the shorter.” + +“I think that I will take the front way,” I answered. “It may be a bit +longer, but it will give me the more time to think of Marie.” + + + + +THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE + + +A LEGEND OF THE RING + +Tom Cribb, Champion of England, having finished his active career by his +two famous battles with the terrible Molineux, had settled down into the +public house which was known as the Union Arms, at the corner of Panton +Street in the Haymarket. Behind the bar of this hostelry there was a +green baize door which opened into a large, red-papered parlour, adorned +by many sporting prints and by the numerous cups and belts which were +the treasured trophies of the famous prize-fighter’s victorious career. +In this snuggery it was the custom of the Corinthians of the day to +assemble in order to discuss, over Tom Cribb’s excellent wines, the +matches of the past, to await the news of the present, and to arrange +new ones for the future. Hither also came his brother pugilists, +especially such as were in poverty or distress, for the Champion’s +generosity was proverbial, and no man of his own trade was ever turned +from his door if cheering words or a full meal could mend his condition. + +On the morning in question--August 25, 1818--there were but two men in +this famous snuggery. One was Cribb himself--all run to flesh since the +time seven years before, when, training for his last fight, he had done +his forty miles a day with Captain Barclay over the Highland roads. +Broad and deep, as well as tall, he was a little short of twenty stone +in weight, but his heavy, strong face and lion eyes showed that the +spirit of the prize-fighter was not yet altogether overgrown by the fat +of the publican. Though it was not eleven o’clock, a great tankard of +bitter ale stood upon the table before him, and he was busy cutting up +a plug of black tobacco and rubbing the slices into powder between his +horny fingers. For all his record of desperate battles, he looked what +he was--a good-hearted, respectable householder, law-abiding and kindly, +a happy and prosperous man. + +His companion, however, was by no means in the same easy circumstances, +and his countenance wore a very different expression. He was a tall +and well-formed man, some fifteen years younger than the Champion, and +recalling in the masterful pose of his face and in the fine spread of +his shoulders something of the manly beauty which had distinguished +Cribb at his prime. No one looking at his countenance could fail to see +that he was a fighting man by profession, and any judge of the fancy, +considering his six feet in height, his thirteen stone solid muscle, +and his beautifully graceful build, would admit that he had started his +career with advantages which, if they were only backed by the driving +power of a stout heart, must carry him far. Tom Winter, or Spring--as +he chose to call himself--had indeed come up from his Herefordshire home +with a fine country record of local successes, which had been enhanced +by two victories gained over formidable London heavy-weights. Three +weeks before, however, he had been defeated by the famous Painter, and +the set-back weighed heavily upon the young man’s spirit. + +“Cheer up, lad,” said the Champion, glancing across from under his +tufted eyebrows at the disconsolate face of his companion. “Indeed, Tom, +you take it overhard.” + +The young man groaned, but made no reply. “Others have been beat before +you and lived to be Champions of England. Here I sit with that very +title. Was I not beat down Broadwater way by George Nicholls in 1805? +What then? I fought on, and here I am. When the big Black came from +America it was not George Nicholls they sent for. I say to you--fight +on, and by George, I’ll see you in my own shoes yet!” + +Tom Spring shook his head. “Never, if I have to fight you to get there, +Daddy.” + +“I can’t keep it for ever, Tom. It’s beyond all reason. I’m going to lay +it down before all London at the Fives Courts next year, and it’s to you +that I want to hand it. I couldn’t train down to it now, lad. My day’s +done.” + +“Well, Dad, I’ll never bid for it till you choose to stand aside. After +that, it is as it may be.” + +“Well, have a rest, Tom; wait for your chance, and, meantime, there’s +always a bed and crust for you here.” + +Spring struck his clenched fist on his knee. “I know, Daddy! Ever since +I came up from Fownthorpe you’ve been as good as a father to me.” + +“I’ve an eye for a winner.” + +“A pretty winner! Beat in forty rounds by Ned Painter.” + +“You had beat him first.” + +“And by the Lord, I will again!” + +“So you will, lad. George Nicholls would never give me another shy. Knew +too much, he did. Bought a butcher’s shop in Bristol with the money, and +there he is to this day.” + +“Yes, I’ll come back on Painter, but I haven’t a shilling left. My +backers have lost faith in me. If it wasn’t for you, Daddy, I’d be in +the kennel.” + +“Have you nothing left, Tom?” + +“Not the price of a meal. I left every penny I had, and my good name as +well, in the ring at Kingston. I’m hard put to it to live unless I can +get another fight, and who’s going to back me now?” + +“Tut, man! the knowing ones will back you. You’re the top of the list, +for all Ned Painter. But there are other ways a man may earn a bit. +There was a lady in here this morning--nothing flash, boy, a real +tip-top out-and-outer with a coronet on her coach--asking after you.” + +“Asking after me! A lady!” The young pugilist stood up with surprise and +a certain horror rising in his eyes. “You don’t mean, Daddy--” + +“I mean nothing but what is honest, my lad. You can lay to that!” + +“You said I could earn a bit.” + +“So, perhaps, you can. Enough, anyhow, to tide you over your bad time. +There’s something in the wind there. It’s to do with fightin’. She asked +questions about your height, weight, and my opinion of your prospect. +You can lay that my answers did you no harm.” + +“She ain’t making a match, surely?” + +“Well, she seemed to know a tidy bit about it. She asked about George +Cooper, and Richmond the Black, and Tom Oliver, always comin’ back to +you, and wantin’ to know if you were not the pick of the bunch. _And_ +trustworthy. That was the other point. Could she trust you? Lord, +Tom, if you was a fightin’ archangel you could hardly live up to the +character that I’ve given you.” + +A drawer looked in from the bar. “If you please, Mr. Cribb, the lady’s +carriage is back again.” + +The Champion laid down his long clay pipe. “This way, lad,” said he, +plucking his young friend by the sleeve towards the side window. “Look +there, now! Saw you ever a more slap-up carriage? See, too, the pair of +bays--two hundred guineas apiece. Coachman, too, and footman--you’d find +‘em hard to beat. There she is now, stepping out of it. Wait here, lad, +till I do the honours of my house.” + +Tom Cribb slipped off, and young Spring remained by the window, tapping +the glass nervously with his fingers, for he was a simple-minded country +lad with no knowledge of women, and many fears of the traps which await +the unwary in a great city. Many stories were afloat of pugilists who +had been taken up and cast aside again by wealthy ladies, even as the +gladiators were in decadent Rome. It was with some suspicion therefore, +and considerable inward trepidation, that he faced round as a tall +veiled figure swept into the room. He was much consoled, however, to +observe the bulky form of Tom Cribb immediately behind her as a proof +that the interview was not to be a private one. When the door was +closed, the lady very deliberately removed her gloves. Then with fingers +which glittered with diamonds she slowly rolled up and adjusted her +heavy veil. Finally, she turned her face upon Spring. + +“Is this the man?” said she. + +They stood looking at each other with mutual interest, which warmed +in both their faces into mutual admiration. What she saw was as fine a +figure of a young man as England could show, none the less attractive +for the restrained shyness of his manner and the blush which flushed his +cheeks. What he saw was a woman of thirty, tall, dark, queen-like, and +imperious, with a lovely face, every line and feature of which told of +pride and breed, a woman born to Courts, with the instinct of command +strong within her, and yet with all the softer woman’s graces to temper +and conceal the firmness of her soul. Tom Spring felt as he looked at +her that he had never seen nor ever dreamed of any one so beautiful, and +yet he could not shake off the instinct which warned him to be upon his +guard. Yes, it was beautiful, this face--beautiful beyond belief. +But was it good, was it kind, was it true? There was some strange +subconscious repulsion which mingled with his admiration for her +loveliness. As to the lady’s thoughts, she had already put away all idea +of the young pugilist as a man, and regarded him now with critical eyes +as a machine designed for a definite purpose. + +“I am glad to meet you, Mr.--Mr. Spring,” said she, looking him over +with as much deliberation as a dealer who is purchasing a horse. “He +is hardly as tall as I was given to understand, Mr. Cribb. You said six +feet, I believe?” + +“So he is, ma’am, but he carries it so easy. It’s only the beanstalk +that looks tall. See here, I’m six foot myself, and our heads are level, +except I’ve lost my fluff.” + +“What is the chest measurement?” + +“Forty-three inches, ma’am.” + +“You certainly seem to be a very strong young man. And a game one, too, +I hope?” + +Young Spring shrugged his shoulders. + +“It’s not for me to say, ma’am.” + +“I can speak for that, ma’am,” said Cribb. “You read the _Sporting +Chronicle_ for three weeks ago, ma’am. You’ll see how he stood up to Ned +Painter until his senses were beat out of him. I waited on him, ma’am, +and I know. I could show you my waistcoat now--that would let you guess +what punishment he can take.” + +The lady waved aside the illustration. “But he was beat,” said she, +coldly. “The man who beat him must be the better man.” + +“Saving your presence, ma’am, I think not, and outside Gentleman Jackson +my judgment would stand against any in the ring. My lad here has beat +Painter once, and will again, if your ladyship could see your way to +find the battle-money.” + +The lady started and looked angrily at the Champion. + +“Why do you call me that?” + +“I beg pardon. It was just my way of speaking.” + +“I order you not to do it again.” + +“Very good, ma’am.” + +“I am here incognito. I bind you both upon your honours to make no +inquiry as to who I am. If I do not get your firm promise, the matter +ends here.” + +“Very good, ma’am. I’ll promise for my own part, and so, I am sure, +will Spring. But if I may be so bold, I can’t help my drawers and potmen +talking with your servants.” + +“The coachman and footman know just as much about me as you do. But my +time is limited, so I must get to business. I think, Mr. Spring, that +you are in want of something to do at present?” + +“That is so, ma’am.” + +“I understand from Mr. Cribb that you are prepared to fight any one at +any weight?” + +“Anything on two legs,” cried the Champion. “Who did you wish me to +fight?” asked the young pugilist. + +“That cannot concern you. If you are really ready to fight any one, +then the particular name can be of no importance. I have my reasons for +withholding it.” + +“Very good, ma’am.” + +“You have been only a few weeks out of training. How long would it take +you to get back to your best?” + +“Three weeks or a month.” + +“Well, then, I will pay your training expenses and two pounds a week +over. Here are five pounds as a guarantee. You will fight when I +consider that you are ready, and that the circumstances are favourable. +If you win your fight, you shall have fifty pounds. Are you satisfied +with the terms?” + +“Very handsome, ma’am, I’m sure.” + +“And remember, Mr. Spring, I choose you, not because you are the best +man--for there are two opinions about that--but because I am given to +understand that you are a decent man whom I can trust. The terms of this +match are to be secret.” + +“I understand that. I’ll say nothing.” + +“It is a private match. Nothing more. You will begin your training +tomorrow.” + +“Very good, ma’am.” + +“I will ask Mr. Cribb to train you.” + +“I’ll do that, ma’am, with pleasure. But, by your leave, does he have +anything if he loses?” + +A spasm of emotion passed over the woman’s face and her hands clenched +white with passion. + +“If he loses, not a penny, not a penny!” she cried. “He must not, shall +not lose!” + +“Well, ma’am,” said Spring, “I’ve never heard of any such match. But +it’s true that I am down at heel, and beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll +do just what you say. I’ll train till you give the word, and then I’ll +fight where you tell me. I hope you’ll make it a large ring.” + +“Yes,” said she; “it will be a large ring.” + +“And how far from London?” + +“Within a hundred miles. Have you anything else to say? My time is up.” + +“I’d like to ask, ma’am,” said the Champion, earnestly, “whether I can +act as the lad’s second when the time comes. I’ve waited on him the last +two fights. Can I give him a knee?” + +“No,” said the woman, sharply. Without another word she turned and +was gone, shutting the door behind her. A few moments later the trim +carriage flashed past the window, turned down the crowded Haymarket, and +was engulfed in the traffic. + +The two men looked at each other in silence. + +“Well, blow my dicky, if this don’t beat cockfightin’!” cried Tom Cribb +at last. “Anyhow, there’s the fiver, lad. But it’s a rum go, and no +mistake about it.” + +After due consultation, it was agreed that Tom Spring should go into +training at the Castle Inn on Hampstead Heath, so that Cribb could drive +over and watch him. Thither Spring went on the day after the interview +with his patroness, and he set to work at once with drugs, dumb-bells, +and breathers on the common to get himself into condition. It was hard, +however, to take the matter seriously, and his good-natured trainer +found the same difficulty. + +“It’s the baccy I miss, Daddy,” said the young pugilist, as they sat +together on the afternoon of the third day. “Surely there can’t be any +harm in my havin’ a pipe?” + +“Well, well, lad, it’s against my conscience, but here’s my box and +there’s a yard o’ clay,” said the Champion. “My word, I don’t know what +Captain Barclay of Ury would have said if he had seen a man smoke when +he was in trainin’! He was the man to work you! He had me down from +sixteen to thirteen the second time I fought the Black.” + +Spring had lit his pipe and was leaning back amid a haze of blue smoke. + +“It was easy for you, Daddy, to keep strict trainin’ when you knew what +was before you. You had your date and your place and your man. You knew +that in a month you would jump the ropes with ten thousand folk round +you, and carrying maybe a hundred thousand in bets. You knew also the +man you had to meet, and you wouldn’t give him the better of you. But +it’s all different with me. For all I know, this is just a woman’s whim, +and will end in nothing. If I was sure it was serious, I’d break this +pipe before I would smoke it.” + +Tom Cribb scratched his head in puzzlement. + +“I can make nothing of it, lad, ‘cept that her money is good. Come to +think of it, how many men on the list could stand up to you for half an +hour? It can’t be Stringer, ‘cause you’ve beat him. Then there’s Cooper; +but he’s up Newcastle way. It can’t be him. There’s Richmond; but you +wouldn’t need to take your coat off to beat him. There’s the Gasman; but +he’s not twelve stone. And there’s Bill Neat of Bristol. That’s it, lad. +The lady has taken into her head to put you up against either the Gasman +or Bill Neat.” + +“But why not say so? I’d train hard for the Gasman and harder for Bill +Neat, but I’m blowed if I can train, with any heart when I’m fightin’ +nobody in particular and everybody in general, same as now.” + +There was a sudden interruption to the speculations of the two +prize-fighters. The door opened and the lady entered. As her eyes fell +upon the two men her dark, handsome face flushed with anger, and she +gazed at them silently with an expression of contempt which brought them +both to their feet with hangdog faces. There they stood, their long, +reeking pipes in their hands, shuffling and downcast, like two great +rough mastiffs before an angry mistress. + +“So!” said she, stamping her foot furiously. “And this is training!” + +“I’m sure we’re very sorry, ma’am,” said the abashed Champion. “I didn’t +think--I never for one moment supposed--” + +“That I would come myself to see if you were taking my money on false +pretences? No, I dare say not. You fool!” she blazed, turning suddenly +upon Tom Spring. “You’ll be beat. That will be the end of it.” + +The young man looked up with an angry face. + +“I’ll trouble you not to call me names, ma’am. I’ve my self-respect, +the same as you. I’ll allow that I shouldn’t have smoked when I was in +trainin’. But I was saying to Tom Cribb here, just before you came in, +that if you would give over treatin’ us as if we were children, and if +you would tell us just who it is you want me to fight, and when, and +where, it would be a deal easier for me to take myself in hand.” + +“It’s true, ma’am,” said the Champion. “I know it must be either the +Gasman or Bill Neat. There’s no one else. So give me the office, and +I’ll promise to have him as fit as a trout on the day.” + +The lady laughed contemptuously. + +“Do you think,” said she, “that no one can fight save those who make a +living by it?” + +“By George, it’s an amateur!” cried Cribb, in amazement. “But you don’t +surely ask Tom Spring to train for three weeks to meet a Corinthian?” + +“I will say nothing more of who it is. It is no business of yours,” the +lady answered fiercely. “All I _do_ say is, that if you do not train +I will cast you aside and take some one who will. Do not think you can +fool me because I am a woman. I have learned the points of the game as +well as any man.” + +“I saw that the very first word you spoke,” said Cribb. + +“Then don’t forget it. I will not warn you again. If I have occasion to +find fault I shall choose another man.” + +“And you won’t tell me who I am to fight?” + +“Not a word. But you can take it from me that at your very best it will +take you, or any man in England, all your time to master him. Now, get +back this instant to your work, and never let me find you shirking it +again.” With imperious eyes she looked the two strong men down, and +then, turning on her heel, she swept out of the room. + +The Champion whistled as the door closed behind her, and mopped his brow +with his red bandanna handkerchief as he looked across at his abashed +companion. “My word, lad,” said he, “it’s earnest from this day on.” + +“Yes,” said Tom Spring, solemnly, “it’s earnest from this day on.” + +In the course of the next fortnight the lady made several surprise +visits to see that her champion was being properly prepared for the +contest which lay before him. At the most unexpected moments she would +burst into the training quarters, but never again had she to complain of +any slackness upon his part or that of his trainer. With long bouts +of the gloves, with thirty-mile walks, with mile runs at the back of +a mailcart with a bit of blood between the shafts, with interminable +series of jumps with a skipping-rope, he was sweated down until his +trainer was able to proudly proclaim that “the last ounce of tallow is +off him and he is ready to fight for his life.” Only once was the +lady accompanied by any one upon these visits of inspection. Upon this +occasion a tall young man was her companion. He was graceful in figure, +aristocratic in his bearing, and would have been strikingly handsome had +it not been for some accident which had shattered his nose and broken +all the symmetry of his features. He stood in silence with moody eyes +and folded arms, looking at the splendid torso of the prize-fighter as, +stripped to the waist, he worked with his dumbbells. + +“Don’t you think he will do?” said the lady. + +The young swell shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t like it, _cara mia_. I +can’t pretend that I like it.” + +“You must like it, George. I have set my very heart on it.” + +“It is not English, you know. Lucrezia Borgia and Mediaeval Italy. +Woman’s love and woman’s hatred are always the same, but this particular +manifestation of it seems to me out of place in nineteenth-century +London.” + +“Is not a lesson needed?” + +“Yes, yes; but one would think there were other ways.” + +“You tried another way. What did you get out of that?” + +The young man smiled rather grimly, as he turned up his cuff and looked +at a puckered hole in his wrist. + +“Not much, certainly,” said he. + +“You’ve tried and failed.” + +“Yes, I must admit it.” + +“What else is there? The law?” + +“Good gracious, no!” + +“Then it is my turn, George, and I won’t be balked.” + +“I don’t think any one is capable of balking you, _cara mia_. Certainly +I, for one, should never dream of trying. But I don’t feel as if I could +co-operate.” + +“I never asked you to.” + +“No, you certainly never did. You are perfectly capable of doing it +alone. I think, with your leave, if you have quite done with your +prize-fighter, we will drive back to London. I would not for the world +miss Goldoni in the Opera.” + +So they drifted away; he, frivolous and dilettante, she with her face as +set as Fate, leaving the fighting men to their business. + +And now the day came when Cribb was able to announce to his employer +that his man was as fit as science could make him. + +“I can do no more, ma’am. He’s fit to fight for a kingdom. Another week +would see him stale.” + +The lady looked Spring over with the eye of a connoisseur. + +“I think he does you credit,” she said at last. “Today is Tuesday. He +will fight the day after tomorrow.” + +“Very good, ma’am. Where shall he go?” + +“I will tell you exactly, and you will please take careful note of all +that I say. You, Mr. Cribb, will take your man down to the Golden Cross +Inn at Charing Cross by nine o’clock on Wednesday morning. He will take +the Brighton coach as far as Tunbridge Wells, where he will alight at +the Royal Oak Arms. There he will take such refreshment as you advise +before a fight. He will wait at the Royal Oak Arms until he receives +a message by word, or by letter, brought him by a groom in a mulberry +livery. This message will give him his final instructions.” + +“And I am not to come?” + +“No,” said the lady. + +“But surely, ma’am,” he pleaded, “I may come as far as Tunbridge Wells? +It’s hard on a man to train a cove for a fight and then to leave him.” + +“It can’t be helped. You are too well known. Your arrival would spread +all over the town, and my plans might suffer. It is quite out of the +question that you should come.” + +“Well, I’ll do what you tell me, but it’s main hard.” + +“I suppose,” said Spring, “you would have me bring my fightin’ shorts +and my spiked shoes?” + +“No; you will kindly bring nothing whatever which may point to your +trade. I would have you wear just those clothes in which I saw you +first, such clothes as any mechanic or artisan might be expected to +wear.” + +Tom Cribb’s blank face had assumed an expression of absolute despair. + +“No second, no clothes, no shoes--it don’t seem regular. I give you my +word, ma’am, I feel ashamed to be mixed up in such a fight. I don’t know +as you can call the thing a fight where there is no second. It’s just +a scramble--nothing more. I’ve gone too far to wash my hands of it now, +but I wish I had never touched it.” + +In spite of all professional misgivings on the part of the Champion and +his pupil, the imperious will of the woman prevailed, and everything +was carried out exactly as she had directed. At nine o’clock Tom Spring +found himself upon the box-seat of the Brighton coach, and waved his +hand in goodbye to burly Tom Cribb, who stood, the admired of a ring of +waiters and ostlers, upon the doorstep of the Golden Cross. It was in +the pleasant season when summer is mellowing into autumn, and the +first golden patches are seen amid the beeches and the ferns. The young +country-bred lad breathed more freely when he had left the weary streets +of Southwark and Lewisham behind him, and he watched with delight the +glorious prospect as the coach, whirled along by six dapple greys, +passed by the classic grounds of Knowle, or after crossing Riverside +Hill skirted the vast expanse of the Weald of Kent. Past Tonbridge +School went the coach, and on through Southborough, until it wound down +a steep, curving road with strange outcrops of sandstone beside it, and +halted before a great hostelry, bearing the name which had been given +him in his directions. He descended, entered the coffee-room, and +ordered the underdone steak which his trainer had recommended. Hardly +had he finished it when a servant with a mulberry coat and a peculiarly +expressionless face entered the apartment. + +“Beg your pardon, sir, are you Mr. Spring--Mr. Thomas Spring, of +London?” + +“That is my name, young man.” + +“Then the instructions which I had to give you are that you wait for one +hour after your meal. After that time you will find me in a phaeton at +the door, and I will drive you in the right direction.” + +The young pugilist had never been daunted by any experience which had +befallen him in the ring. The rough encouragement of his backers, the +surge and shouting of the multitude, and the sight of his opponent had +always cheered his stout heart and excited him to prove himself worthy +of being the centre of such a scene. But his loneliness and uncertainty +were deadly. He flung himself down on the horse-hair couch and tried to +doze, but his mind was too restless and excited. Finally he rose, and +paced up and down the empty room. Suddenly he was aware of a great +rubicund face which surveyed him from round the angle of the door. Its +owner, seeing that he was observed, pushed forward into the room. + +“I beg pardon, sir,” said he, “but surely I have the honour of talking +to Mr. Thomas Spring?” + +“At your service,” said the young man. + +“Bless me! I am vastly honoured to have you under my roof! Cordery is +my name, sir, landlord of this old-fashioned inn. I thought that my eyes +could not deceive me. I am a patron of the ring, sir, in my own humble +way, and was present at Moulsey in September last, when you beat Jack +Stringer of Rawcliffe. A very fine fight, sir, and very handsomely +fought, if I may make bold to say so. I have a right to an opinion, sir, +for there’s never been a fight for many a year in Kent or Sussex that +you wouldn’t find Joe Cordery at the ring-side. Ask Mr. Gregson at the +Chop-house in Holborn and he’ll tell you about old Joe Cordery. By the +way, Mr. Spring, I suppose it is not business that has brought you down +into these parts? Any one can see with half an eye that you are trained +to a hair. I’d take it very kindly if you would give me the office.” + +It crossed Spring’s mind that if he were frank with the landlord it was +more than likely that he would receive more information than he could +give. He was a man of his word, however, and he remembered his promise +to his employer. + +“Just a quiet day in the country, Mr. Cordery. That’s all.” + +“Dear me! I had hoped there was a mill in the wind. I’ve a nose for +these things, Mr. Spring, and I thought I had a whiff of it. But, of +course, you should know best. Perhaps you will drive round with me this +afternoon and view the hop-gardens--just the right time of year, sir.” + +Tom Spring was not very skilful in deception, and his stammering excuses +may not have been very convincing to the landlord, or finally persuaded +him that his original supposition was wrong. In the midst of the +conversation, however, the waiter entered with the news that a phaeton +was waiting at the door. The innkeeper’s eyes shone with suspicion and +eagerness. + +“I thought you said you knew no one in these parts, Mr. Spring?” + +“Just one kind friend, Mr. Cordery, and he has sent his gig for me. It’s +likely that I will take the night coach to town. But I’ll look in after +an hour or two and have a dish of tea with you.” + +Outside the mulberry servant was sitting behind a fine black horse in +a phaeton, which had two seats in front and two behind. Tom Spring +was about to climb up beside him, when the servant whispered that his +directions were that he should sit behind. Then the phaeton whirled +away, while the excited landlord, more convinced than ever that there +was something in the wind, rushed into his stable-yard with shrieks to +his ostlers, and in a very few minutes was in hot pursuit, waiting at +every cross-road until he could hear tidings of a black horse and a +mulberry livery. + +The phaeton meanwhile drove in the direction of Crowborough. Some miles +out it turned from the high-road into a narrow lane spanned by a tawny +arch of beech trees. Through this golden tunnel a lady was walking, tall +and graceful, her back to the phaeton. As it came abreast of her she +stood aside and looked up, while the coachman pulled up the horse. + +“I trust that you are at your best,” said she, looking very earnestly at +the prize-fighter. “How do you feel?” + +“Pretty tidy, ma’am, I thank you.” + +“I will get up beside you, Johnson. We have some way to go. You will +drive through the Lower Warren, and then take the lane which skirts the +Gravel Hanger. I will tell you where to stop. Go slowly, for we are not +due for twenty minutes.” + +Feeling as if the whole business was some extraordinary dream, the young +pugilist passed through a network of secluded lanes, until the phaeton +drew up at a wicket gate which led into a plantation of firs, choked +with a thick undergrowth. Here the lady descended and beckoned Spring to +alight. + +“Wait down the lane,” said she to the coachman. “We shall be some little +time. Now, Mr. Spring, will you kindly follow me? I have written a +letter which makes an appointment.” + +She passed swiftly through the plantation by a tortuous path, then +over a stile, and past another wood, loud with the deep chuckling of +pheasants. At the farther side was a fine rolling park, studded with +oak trees, and stretching away to a splendid Elizabethan mansion, with +balustraded terraces athwart its front. Across the park, and making for +the wood, a solitary figure was walking. + +The lady gripped the prize-fighter by the wrist. “That is your man,” + said she. + +They were standing under the shadow of the trees, so that he was very +visible to them, while they were out of his sight. Tom Spring looked +hard at the man, who was still some hundreds of yards away. He was a +tall, powerful fellow, clad in a blue coat with gilt buttons, which +gleamed in the sun. He had white corded breeches and riding-boots. He +walked with a vigorous step, and with every few strides he struck +his leg with a dog-whip which hung from his wrist. There was a great +suggestion of purpose and of energy in the man’s appearance and bearing. + +“Why, he’s a gentleman!” said Spring. “Look ‘ere, ma’am, this is all a +bit out of my line. I’ve nothing against the man, and he can mean me no +harm. What am I to do with him?” + +“Fight him! Smash him! That is what you are here for.” + +Tom Spring turned on his heel with disgust. “I’m here to fight, ma’am, +but not to smash a man who has no thought of fighting. It’s off.” + +“You don’t like the look of him,” hissed the woman. “You have met your +master.” + +“That is as may be. It is no job for me.” + +The woman’s face was white with vexation and anger. + +“You fool!” she cried. “Is all to go wrong at the last minute? There are +fifty pounds here they are in this paper--would you refuse them?” + +“It’s a cowardly business. I won’t do it.” + +“Cowardly? You are giving the man two stone, and he can beat any amateur +in England.” + +The young pugilist felt relieved. After all, if he could fairly earn +that fifty pounds, a good deal depended upon his winning it. If he could +only be sure that this was a worthy and willing antagonist! + +“How do you know he is so good?” he asked. + +“I ought to know. I am his wife.” + +As she spoke she turned, and was gone like a flash among the bushes. The +man was quite close now, and Tom Spring’s scruples weakened as he looked +at him. He was a powerful, broad-chested fellow, about thirty, with a +heavy, brutal face, great thatched eyebrows, and a hard-set mouth. He +could not be less than fifteen stone in weight, and he carried himself +like a trained athlete. As he swung along he suddenly caught a glimpse +of Spring among the trees, and he at once quickened his pace and sprang +over the stile which separated them. + +“Halloa!” said he, halting a few yards from him, and staring him up and +down. “Who the devil are you, and where the devil did you come from, and +what the devil are you doing on my property?” + +His manner was even more offensive than his words. It brought a flush of +anger to Spring’s cheeks. + +“See here, mister,” said he, “civil words is cheap. You’ve no call to +speak to me like that.” + +“You infernal rascal!” cried the other. “I’ll show you the way out of +that plantation with the toe of my boot. Do you dare to stand there on +my land and talk back at me?” He advanced with a menacing face and his +dog-whip half raised. “Well, are you going?” he cried, as he swung it +into the air. + +Tom Spring jumped back to avoid the threatened blow. + +“Go slow, mister,” said he. “It’s only fair that you should know where +you are. I’m Spring, the prize-fighter. Maybe you have heard my name.” + +“I thought you were a rascal of that breed,” said the man. “I’ve had the +handling of one or two of you gentry before, and I never found one that +could stand up to me for five minutes. Maybe you would like to try?” + +“If you hit me with that dog-whip, mister----” + +“There, then!” He gave the young man a vicious cut across the shoulder. +“Will that help you to fight?” + +“I came here to fight,” said Tom Spring, licking his dry lips. “You can +drop that whip, mister, for I _will_ fight. I’m a trained man and ready. +But you would have it. Don’t blame me.” + +The man was stripping the blue coat from his broad shoulders. There +was a sprigged satin vest beneath it, and they were hung together on an +alder branch. + +“Trained are you?” he muttered. “By the Lord, I’ll train you before I am +through!” + +Any fears that Tom Spring may have had lest he should be taking some +unfair advantage were set at rest by the man’s assured manner and by the +splendid physique, which became more apparent as he discarded a black +satin tie, with a great ruby glowing in its centre, and threw aside +the white collar which cramped his thick muscular neck. He then, very +deliberately, undid a pair of gold sleeve-links, and, rolling up his +shirt-sleeves, disclosed two hairy and muscular arms, which would have +served as a model for a sculptor. + +“Come nearer the stile,” said he, when he had finished. “There is more +room.” + +The prize-fighter had kept pace with the preparations of his formidable +antagonist. His own hat, coat, and vest hung suspended upon a bush. He +advanced now into the open space which the other had indicated. + +“Ruffianing or fighting?” asked the amateur, coolly. + +“Fighting.” + +“Very good,” said the other. “Put up your hands, Spring. Try it out.” + +They were standing facing one another in a grassy ring intersected by +the path at the outlet of the wood. The insolent and overbearing look +had passed away from the amateur’s face, but a grim half-smile was on +his lips and his eyes shone fiercely from under his tufted brows. From +the way in which he stood it was very clear that he was a past-master at +the game. Tom Spring, as he paced lightly to right and left, looking for +an opening, became suddenly aware that neither with Stringer nor with +the redoubtable Painter himself had he ever faced a more business-like +opponent. The amateur’s left was well forward, his guard low, his body +leaning back from the haunches, and his head well out of danger. Spring +tried a light lead at the mark, and another at the face, but in an +instant his adversary was on to him with a shower of sledge-hammer blows +which it took him all his time to avoid. He sprang back, but there was +no getting away from that whirlwind of muscle and bone. A heavy blow +beat down his guard, a second landed on his shoulder, and over went the +prize-fighter with the other on the top of him. Both sprang to their +feet, glared at each other, and fell into position once more. + +There could be no doubt that the amateur was not only heavier, but also +the harder and stronger man. Twice again he rushed Spring down, once by +the weight of his blows, and once by closing and hurling him on to his +back. Such falls might have shaken the fight out of a less game man, but +to Tom Spring they were but incidents in his daily trade. Though bruised +and winded he was always up again in an instant. Blood was trickling +from his mouth, but his steadfast blue eyes told of the unshaken spirit +within. + +He was accustomed now to his opponent’s rushing tactics, and he was +ready for them. The fourth round was the same as to attack, but it was +very different in defence. Up to now the young man had given way and +been fought down. This time he stood his ground. As his opponent +rushed in he met him with a tremendous straight hit from his left hand, +delivered with the full force of his body, and doubled in effect by the +momentum of the charge. So stunning was the concussion that the pugilist +himself recoiled from it across the grassy ring. The amateur staggered +back and leaned his shoulder on a tree-trunk, his hand up to his face. + +“You’d best drop it,” said Spring. “You’ll get pepper if you don’t.” + +The other gave an inarticulate curse, and spat out a mouthful of blood. + +“Come on!” said he. + +Even now the pugilist found that he had no light task before him. Warned +by his misadventure, the heavier man no longer tried to win the battle +at a rush, nor to beat down an accomplished boxer as he would a country +hawbuck at a village fair. He fought with his head and his feet as well +as with his hands. Spring had to admit in his heart that, trained to +the ring, this man must have been a match for the best. His guard was +strong, his counter was like lightning, he took punishment like a man +of iron, and when he could safely close he always brought his lighter +antagonist to the ground with a shattering fall. But the one stunning +blow which he had courted before he was taught respect for his adversary +weighed heavily on him all the time. His senses had lost something of +their quickness and his blows of their sting. He was fighting, too, +against a man who, of all the boxers who have made their names great, +was the safest, the coolest, the least likely to give anything away, or +lose an advantage gained. Slowly, gradually, round by round, he was worn +down by his cool, quick-stepping, sharp-hitting antagonist. At last he +stood exhausted, breathing hoarsely, his face, what could be seen of it, +purple with his exertions. He had reached the limit of human endurance. +His opponent stood waiting for him, bruised and beaten, but as cool, as +ready, as dangerous as ever. + +“You’d best drop it, I tell you,” said he. “You’re done.” + +But the other’s manhood would not have it so. With a snarl of fury he +cast his science to the winds, and rushed madly to slogging with both +hands. For a moment Spring was overborne. Then he side-stepped swiftly; +there was the crash of his blow, and the amateur tossed up his arms and +fell all asprawl, his great limbs outstretched, his disfigured face to +the sky. + +For a moment Tom Spring stood looking down at his unconscious opponent. +The next he felt a soft, warm hand upon his bare arm. The woman was at +his elbow. + +“Now is your time!” she cried, her dark eyes aflame. “Go in! Smash him!” + +Spring shook her off with a cry of disgust, but she was back in an +instant. + +“I’ll make it seventy-five pounds--” + +“The fight’s over, ma’am. I can’t touch him.” + +“A hundred pounds--a clear hundred! I have it here in my bodice. Would +you refuse a hundred?” + +He turned on his heel. She darted past him and tried to kick at the face +of the prostrate man. Spring dragged her roughly away, before she could +do him a mischief. + +“Stand clear!” he cried, giving her a shake. “You should take shame to +hit a fallen man.” + +With a groan the injured man turned on his side. Then he slowly sat +up and passed his wet hand over his face. Finally, he staggered to his +feet. + +“Well,” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders, “it was a fair fight. +I’ve no complaint to make. I was Jackson’s favourite pupil, but I give +you best.” Suddenly his eyes lit upon the furious face of the woman. +“Hulloa, Betty!” he cried. “So I have you to thank. I might have guessed +it when I had your letter.” + +“Yes, my lord,” said she, with a mock curtsey. “You have me to thank. +Your little wife managed it all. I lay behind those bushes, and I saw +you beaten like a hound. You haven’t had all that I had planned for you, +but I think it will be some little time before any woman loves you for +the sake of your appearance. Do you remember the words, my lord? Do you +remember the words?” + +He stood stunned for a moment. Then he snatched his whip from the +ground, and looked at her from under his heavy brows. + +“I believe you’re the devil!” he cried. + +“I wonder what the governess will think?” said she. + +He flared into furious rage and rushed at her with his whip. Tom Spring +threw himself before him with his arms out. + +“It won’t do, sir; I can’t stand by.” + +The man glared at his wife over the prize-fighter’s shoulder. + +“So it’s for dear George’s sake!” he said, with a bitter laugh. “But +poor, broken-nosed George seems to have gone to the wall. Taken up with +a prize-fighter, eh? Found a fancy man for yourself!” + +“You liar!” she gasped. + +“Ha, my lady, that stings your pride, does it? Well, you shall stand +together in the dock for trespass and assault. What a picture--great +Lord, what a picture!” + +“You wouldn’t, John!” + +“Wouldn’t I, by--! you stay there three minutes and see if I wouldn’t.” + He seized his clothes from the bush, and staggered off as swiftly as he +could across the field, blowing a whistle as he ran. + +“Quick! quick!” cried the woman. “There’s not an instant to lose.” Her +face was livid, and she was shivering and panting with apprehension. +“He’ll raise the country. It would be awful--awful!” + +She ran swiftly down the tortuous path, Spring following after her and +dressing as he went. In a field to the right a gamekeeper, his gun in +his hand, was hurrying towards the whistling. Two labourers, loading +hay, had stopped their work and were looking about them, their +pitchforks in their hands. + +But the path was empty, and the phaeton awaited them, the horse cropping +the grass by the lane-side, the driver half asleep on his perch. The +woman sprang swiftly in and motioned Spring to stand by the wheel. + +“There is your fifty pounds,” she said, handing him a paper. “You were +a fool not to turn it into a hundred when you had the chance. I’ve done +with you now.” + +“But where am I to go?” asked the prize-fighter, gazing around him at +the winding lanes. + +“To the devil!” said she. “Drive on, Johnson!” + +The phaeton whirled down the road and vanished round a curve. Tom Spring +was alone. + +Everywhere over the countryside he heard shoutings and whistlings. It +was clear that so long as she escaped the indignity of sharing his fate +his employer was perfectly indifferent as to whether he got into trouble +or not. Tom Spring began to feel indifferent himself. He was weary +to death, his head was aching from the blows and falls which he had +received, and his feelings were raw from the treatment which he had +undergone. He walked slowly some few yards down the lane, but had no +idea which way to turn to reach Tunbridge Wells. In the distance he +heard the baying of dogs, and he guessed that they were being set upon +his track. In that case he could not hope to escape them, and might just +as well await them where he was. He picked out a heavy stake from the +hedge, and he sat down moodily waiting, in a very dangerous temper, for +what might befall him. + +But it was a friend and not a foe who came first into sight. Round the +corner of the lane flew a small dog-cart, with a fast-trotting chestnut +cob between the shafts. In it was seated the rubicund landlord of the +Royal Oak, his whip going, his face continually flying round to glance +behind him. + +“Jump in, Mr. Spring jump in!” he cried, as he reined up. “They’re all +coming, dogs and men! Come on! Now, hud up, Ginger!” Not another word +did he say until two miles of lanes had been left behind them at racing +speed and they were back in safety upon the Brighton road. Then he let +the reins hang loose on the pony’s back, and he slapped Tom Spring with +his fat hand upon the shoulder. + +“Splendid!” he cried, his great red face shining with ecstasy. “Oh, +Lord! but it was beautiful!” + +“What!” cried Spring. “You saw the fight?” + +“Every round of it! By George! to think that I should have lived to have +had such a fight all to myself! Oh, but it was grand,” he cried, in a +frenzy of delight, “to see his lordship go down like a pithed ox and +her ladyship clapping her hands behind the bush! I guessed there was +something in the wind, and I followed you all the way. When you stopped, +I tethered little Ginger in a grove, and I crept after you through the +wood. It’s as well I did, for the whole parish was up!” + +But Tom Spring was sitting gazing at him in blank amazement. + +“His lordship!” he gasped. + +“No less, my boy. Lord Falconbridge, Chairman of the Bench, Deputy +Lieutenant of the County, Peer of the Realm--that’s your man.” + +“Good Lord!” + +“And you didn’t know? It’s as well, for maybe you wouldn’t have whacked +it in as hard if you had; and, mind you, if you hadn’t, he’d have beat +you. There’s not a man in this county could stand up to him. He takes +the poachers and gipsies two and three at a time. He’s the terror of the +place. But you did him--did him fair. Oh, man, it was fine!” + +Tom Spring was too much dazed by what he heard to do more than sit and +wonder. It was not until he had got back to the comforts of the inn, and +after a bath had partaken of a solid meal, that he sent for Mr. Cordery +the landlord. To him he confided the whole train of events which had led +up to his remarkable experience, and he begged him to throw such light +as he could upon it. Cordery listened with keen interest and many +chuckles to the story. Finally he left the room and returned with a +frayed newspaper in his hand, which he smoothed out upon his knee. + +“It’s the _Pantiles Gazette_, Mr. Spring, as gossiping a rag as ever was +printed. I expect there will be a fine column in it if ever it gets its +prying nose into this day’s doings. However, we are mum and her ladyship +is mum, and, my word! his lordship is mum, though he did, in his +passion, raise the hue and cry on you. Here it is, Mr. Spring, and I’ll +read it to you while you smoke your pipe. It’s dated July of last year, +and it goes like this-- + +“‘FRACAS IN HIGH LIFE.--It is an open secret that the differences which +have for some years been known to exist between Lord F---- and his +beautiful wife have come to a head during the last few days. His +lordship’s devotion to sport, and also, as it is whispered, some +attentions which he has shown to a humbler member of his household, +have, it is said, long alienated Lady F----‘s affection. Of late she +has sought consolation and friendship with a gentleman whom we will +designate as Sir George W----n. Sir George, who is a famous ladykiller, +and as well-proportioned a man as any in England, took kindly to the +task of consoling the disconsolate fair. The upshot, however, was +vastly unfortunate, both for the lady’s feelings and for the gentleman’s +beauty. The two friends were surprised in a rendezvous near the house +by Lord F---- himself at the head of a party of his servants. Lord F---- +then and there, in spite of the shrieks of the lady, availed himself of +his strength and skill to administer such punishment to the unfortunate +Lothario as would, in his own parting words, prevent any woman from +loving him again for the sake of his appearance. Lady F---- has left +his lordship and betaken herself to London, where, no doubt, she is now +engaged in nursing the damaged Apollo. It is confidently expected that a +duel will result from the affair, but no particulars have reached us up +to the hour of going to press.’” + +The landlord laid down the paper. “You’ve been moving in high life, Mr. +Thomas Spring,” said he. + +The pugilist passed his hand over his battered face. “Well, Mr. +Cordery,” said he, “low life is good enough for me.” + + + + +OUT OF THE RUNNING + + +It was on the North Side of Butser on the long swell of the Hampshire +Downs. Beneath, some two miles away, the grey roofs and red houses of +Petersfield peeped out from amid the trees which surrounded it. From +the crest of the low hills downwards the country ran in low, sweeping +curves, as though some green primeval sea had congealed in the midst +of a ground swell and set for ever into long verdant rollers. At the +bottom, just where the slope borders upon the plain, there stood a +comfortable square brick farmhouse, with a grey plume of smoke floating +up from the chimney. Two cowhouses, a cluster of hayricks, and a broad +stretch of fields, yellow with the ripening wheat, formed a fitting +setting to the dwelling of a prosperous farmer. + +The green slopes were dotted every here and there with dark clumps of +gorse bushes, all alight with the flaming yellow blossoms. To the left +lay the broad Portsmouth Road curving over the hill, with a line of +gaunt telegraph posts marking its course. Beyond a huge white chasm +opened in the grass, where the great Butser chalk quarry had been sunk. +From its depths rose the distant murmur of voices, and the clinking of +hammers. Just above it, between two curves of green hill, might be seen +a little triangle of leaden-coloured sea, flecked with a single white +sail. + +Down the Portsmouth Road two women were walking, one elderly, florid and +stout, with a yellow-brown Paisley shawl and a coarse serge dress, +the other young and fair, with large grey eyes, and a face which was +freckled like a plover’s egg. Her neat white blouse with its trim black +belt, and plain, close-cut skirt, gave her an air of refinement which +was wanting in her companion, but there was sufficient resemblance +between them to show that they were mother and daughter. The one was +gnarled and hardened and wrinkled by rough country work, the other fresh +and pliant from the benign influence of the Board School; but their +step, their slope of the shoulders, and the movement of their hips as +they walked, all marked them as of one blood. + +“Mother, I can see father in the five-acre field,” cried the younger, +pointing down in the direction of the farm. + +The older woman screwed up her eyes, and shaded them with her hand. + +“Who’s that with him?” she asked. + +“There’s Bill.” + +“Oh, he’s nobody. He’s a-talkin’ to some one.” + +“I don’t know, mother. It’s some one in a straw hat. Adam Wilson of the +Quarry wears a straw hat.” + +“Aye, of course, it’s Adam sure enough. Well, I’m glad we’re back home +time enough to see him. He’d have been disappointed if he had come over +and you’d been away. Drat this dust! It makes one not fit to be seen.” + +The same idea seemed to have occurred to her daughter, for she had taken +out her handkerchief, and was flicking her sleeves and the front of her +dress. + +“That’s right, Dolly. There’s some on your flounces. But, Lor’ bless +you, Dolly, it don’t matter to him. It’s not your dress he looks at, but +your face. Now I shouldn’t be very surprised if he hadn’t come over to +ask you from father.” + +“I think he’d best begin by asking me from myself,” remarked the girl. + +“Ah, but you’ll have him, Dolly, when he does.” + +“I’m not so sure of that, mother.” The older woman threw up her hands. +“There! I don’t know what the gals are coming to. I don’t indeed. It’s +the Board Schools as does it. When I was a gal, if a decent young man +came a-courtin’, we gave him a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No.’ We didn’t keep him +hanging on like a half-clipped sheep. Now, here are you with two of them +at your beck, and you can’t give an answer to either of them.” + +“Why, mother, that’s it,” cried the daughter, with something between +a laugh and a sob. “May be if they came one at a time I’d know what to +say.” + +“What have you agin Adam Wilson?” + +“Nothing. But I have nothing against Elias Mason.” + +“Nor I, either. But I know which is the most proper-looking young man.” + +“Looks isn’t everything, mother. You should hear Elias Mason talk. You +should hear him repeat poetry.” + +“Well, then, have Elias.” + +“Ah, but I haven’t the heart to turn against Adam.” + +“There, now! I never saw such a gal. You’re like a calf betwixt two +hayricks; you have a nibble at the one and a nibble at the other. +There’s not one in a hundred as lucky as you. Here’s Adam with three +pound ten a week, foreman already at the Chalk Works, and likely enough +to be manager if he’s spared. And there’s Elias, head telegraph clerk at +the Post Office, and earning good money too. You can’t keep ‘em both on. +You’ve got to take one or t’other, and it’s my belief you’ll get neither +if you don’t stop this shilly-shally.” + +“I don’t care. I don’t want them. What do they want to come bothering +for?” + +“It’s human natur’, gal. They must do it. If they didn’t, you’d be the +first to cry out maybe. It’s in the Scriptures. ‘Man is born for woman, +as the sparks fly upwards.’” She looked up out of the corner of her eyes +as if not very sure of her quotation. “Why, here be that dratted Bill. +The good book says as we are all made of clay, but Bill does show it +more than any lad I ever saw.” + +They had turned from the road into a narrow, deeply rutted lane, which +led towards the farm. A youth was running towards them, loose-jointed +and long-limbed, with a boyish, lumbering haste, clumping fearlessly +with his great yellow clogs through pool and mire. He wore brown +corduroys, a dingy shirt, and a red handkerchief tied loosely round his +neck. A tattered old straw hat was tilted back upon his shock of coarse, +matted, brown hair. His sleeves were turned up to the elbows, and his +arms and face were both tanned and roughened until his skin looked like +the bark of some young sapling. As he looked up at the sound of the +steps, his face with its blue eyes, brown skin, and first slight down +of a tawny moustache, was not an uncomely one, were it not marred by the +heavy, stolid, somewhat sulky expression of the country yokel. + +“Please, mum,” said he, touching the brim of his wreck of a hat, +“measter seed ye coming. He sent to say as ‘ow ‘e were in the five-acre +lot.” + +“Run back, Bill, and say that we are coming,” answered the farmer’s +wife, and the awkward figure sped away upon its return journey. + +“I say, mother, what is Bill’s other name?” asked the girl, with languid +curiosity. + +“He’s not got one.” + +“No name?” + +“No, Dolly, he’s a found child, and never had no father or mother that +ever was heard of. We had him from the work’us when he was seven, to +chop mangel wurzel, and here he’s been ever since, nigh twelve year. He +was Bill there, and he’s Bill here.” + +“What fun! Fancy having only one name. I wonder what they’ll call his +wife?” + +“I don’t know. Time to talk of that when he can keep one. But now, Dolly +dear, here’s your father and Adam Wilson comin’ across the field. I want +to see you settled, Dolly. He’s a steady young man. He’s blue ribbon, +and has money in the Post Office.” + +“I wish I knew which liked me best,” said her daughter glancing from +under her hat-brim at the approaching figures. “That’s the one I should +like. But it’s all right, mother, and I know how to find out, so don’t +you fret yourself any more.” + +The suitor was a well-grown young fellow in a grey suit, with a straw +hat jauntily ribboned in red and black. He was smoking, but as he +approached he thrust his pipe into his breast-pocket, and came forward +with one hand outstretched, and the other gripping nervously at his +watch-chain. + +“Your servant, Mrs. Foster. And how are you, Miss Dolly? Another +fortnight of this and you will be starting on your harvest, I suppose.” + +“It’s bad to say beforehand what you will do in this country,” said +Farmer Foster, with an apprehensive glance round the heavens. + +“It’s all God’s doing,” remarked his wife piously. + +“And He does the best for us, of course. Yet He does seem these last +seasons to have kind of lost His grip over the weather. Well, maybe +it will be made up to us this year. And what did you do at Horndean, +mother?” + +The old couple walked in front, and the other dropped behind, the young +man lingering, and taking short steps to increase the distance. + +“I say, Dolly,” he murmured at last, flushing slightly as he glanced at +her, “I’ve been speaking to your father about--you know what.” + +But Dolly didn’t know what. She hadn’t the slightest idea of what. +She turned her pretty little freckled face up to him and was full of +curiosity upon the point. + +Adam Wilson’s face flushed to a deeper red. “You know very well,” said +he, impatiently, “I spoke to him about marriage.” + +“Oh, then it’s him you want.” + +“There, that’s the way you always go on. It’s easy to make fun, but I +tell you that I am in earnest, Dolly. Your father says that he would +have no objection to me in the family. You know that I love you true.” + +“How do I know that then?” + +“I tell you so. What more can I do?” + +“Did you ever do anything to prove it?” + +“Set me something and see if I don’t do it.” + +“Then you haven’t done anything yet?” + +“I don’t know. I’ve done what I could.” + +“How about this?” She pulled a little crumpled sprig of dog-rose, such +as grows wild in the wayside hedges, out of her bosom. “Do you know +anything of that?” + +He smiled, and was about to answer, when his brows suddenly contracted, +his mouth set, and his eyes flashed angrily as they focussed some +distant object. Following his gaze, she saw a slim, dark figure, some +three fields off, walking swiftly in their direction. “It’s my friend, +Mr. Elias Mason,” said she. + +“Your friend!” He had lost his diffidence in his anger. “I know all +about that. What does he want here every second evening?” + +“Perhaps he wonders what you want.” + +“Does he? I wish he’d come and ask me. I’d let him see what I wanted. +Quick too.” + +“He can see it now. He has taken off his hat to me,” Dolly said, +laughing. + +Her laughter was the finishing touch. He had meant to be impressive, +and it seemed that he had only been ridiculous. He swung round upon his +heel. + +“Very well, Miss Foster,” said he, in a choking voice, “that’s all +right. We know where we are now. I didn’t come here to be made a fool +of, so good day to you.” He plucked at his hat, and walked furiously off +in the direction from which they had come. She looked after him, half +frightened, in the hope of seeing some sign that he had relented, but he +strode onwards with a rigid neck, and vanished at a turn of the lane. + +When she turned again her other visitor was close upon her--a thin, +wiry, sharp-featured man with a sallow face, and a quick, nervous +manner. + +“Good evening, Miss Foster. I thought that I would walk over as the +weather was so beautiful, but I did not expect to have the good fortune +to meet you in the fields.” + +“I am sure that father will be very glad to see you, Mr. Mason. You must +come in and have a glass of milk.” + +“No, thank you, Miss Foster, I should very much prefer to stay out here +with you. But I am afraid that I have interrupted you in a chat. Was not +that Mr. Adam Wilson who left you this moment?” His manner was subdued, +but his questioning eyes and compressed lips told of a deeper and more +furious jealousy than that of his rival. + +“Yes. It was Mr. Adam Wilson.” There was something about Mason, a +certain concentration of manner, which made it impossible for the girl +to treat him lightly as she had done the other. + +“I have noticed him here several times lately.” + +“Yes. He is head foreman, you know, at the big quarry.” + +“Oh, indeed. He is fond of your society, Miss Foster. I can’t blame him +for that, can I, since I am equally so myself. But I should like to come +to some understanding with you. You cannot have misunderstood what my +feelings are to you? I am in a position to offer you a comfortable home. +Will you be my wife, Miss Foster?” + +Dolly would have liked to make some jesting reply, but it was hard to be +funny with those two eager, fiery eyes fixed so intently upon her own. +She began to walk slowly towards the house, while he paced along beside +her, still waiting for his answer. + +“You must give me a little time, Mr. Mason,” she said at last. “‘Marry +in haste,’ they say, ‘and repent at leisure.’” + +“But you shall never have cause to repent.” + +“I don’t know. One hears such things.” + +“You shall be the happiest woman in England.” + +“That sounds very nice. You are a poet, Mr. Mason, are you not?” + +“I am a lover of poetry.” + +“And poets are fond of flowers?” + +“I am very fond of flowers.” + +“Then perhaps you know something of these?” She took out the humble +little sprig, and held it out to him with an arch questioning glance. He +took it and pressed it to his lips. + +“I know that it has been near you, where I should wish to be,” said he. + +“Good evening, Mr. Mason!” It was Mrs. Foster who had come out to meet +them. “Where’s Mr.----? Oh--ah! Yes, of course. The teapot’s on the +table, and you’d best come in afore it’s over-drawn.” + +When Elias Mason left the farmhouse that evening, he drew Dolly aside at +the door. + +“I won’t be able to come before Saturday,” said he. + +“We shall be glad to see you, Mr. Mason.” + +“I shall want my answer then.” + +“Oh, I cannot give any promise, you know.” + +“But I shall live in hope.” + +“Well, no one can prevent you from doing that.” As she came to realize +her power over him she had lost something of her fear, and could answer +him now nearly as freely as if he were simple Adam Wilson. + +She stood at the door, leaning against the wooden porch, with the long +trailers of the honeysuckle framing her tall, slight figure. The great +red sun was low in the west, its upper rim peeping over the low hills, +shooting long, dark shadows from the beech-tree in the field, from the +little group of tawny cows, and from the man who walked away from her. +She smiled to see how immense the legs were, and how tiny the body in +the great flat giant which kept pace beside him. In front of her in +the little garden the bees droned, a belated butterfly or an early +moth fluttered slowly over the flower-beds, a thousand little creatures +buzzed and hummed, all busy working out their tiny destinies, as she, +too, was working out hers, and each doubtless looking upon their own +as the central point of the universe. A few months for the gnat, a few +years for the girl, but each was happy now in the heavy summer air. A +beetle scuttled out upon the gravel path and bored onwards, its six legs +all working hard, butting up against stones, upsetting itself on ridges, +but still gathering itself up and rushing onwards to some all-important +appointment somewhere in the grass plot. A bat fluttered up from behind +the beech-tree. A breath of night air sighed softly over the hillside +with a little tinge of the chill sea spray in its coolness. Dolly Foster +shivered, and had turned to go in when her mother came out from the +passage. + +“Whatever is that Bill doing there?” she cried. + +Dolly looked, and saw for the first time that the nameless farm-labourer +was crouching under the beech, his browns and yellows blending with the +bark behind him. + +“You go out o’ that, Bill!” screamed the farmer’s wife. + +“What be I to do?” he asked humbly, slouching forward. + +“Go, cut chaff in the barn.” He nodded and strolled away, a comical +figure in his mud-crusted boots, his strap-tied corduroys and his +almond-coloured skin. + +“Well, then, you’ve taken Elias,” said the mother, passing her hand +round her daughter’s waist. “I seed him a-kissing your flower. Well, I’m +sorry for Adam, for he is a well-grown young man, a proper young man, +blue ribbon, with money in the Post Office. Still some one must suffer, +else how could we be purified. If the milk’s left alone it won’t ever +turn into butter. It wants troubling and stirring and churning. That’s +what we want, too, before we can turn angels. It’s just the same as +butter.” + +Dolly laughed. “I have not taken Elias yet,” said she. + +“No? What about Adam then?” + +“Nor him either.” + +“Oh, Dolly girl, can you not take advice from them that is older. I tell +you again that you’ll lose them both.” + +“No, no, mother. Don’t you fret yourself. It’s all right. But you can +see how hard it is. I like Elias, for he can speak so well, and is so +sure and masterful. And I like Adam because--well, because I know very +well that Adam loves me.” + +“Well, bless my heart, you can’t marry them both. You’d like all the +pears in the basket.” + +“No, mother, but I know how to choose. You see this bit of a flower, +dear.” + +“It’s a common dog-rose.” + +“Well, where d’you think I found it?” + +“In the hedge likely.” + +“No, but on my window-ledge.” + +“Oh, but when?” + +“This morning. It was six when I got up, and there it lay fresh and +sweet, and new-plucked. ‘Twas the same yesterday and the day before. +Every morning there it lies. It’s a common flower, as you say, mother, +but it is not so common to find a man who’ll break short his sleep day +after day just to show a girl that the thought of her is in his heart.” + +“And which was it?” + +“Ah, if I knew! I think it’s Elias. He’s a poet, you know, and poets do +nice things like that.” + +“And how will you be sure?” + +“I’ll know before morning. He will come again, whichever it is. And +whichever it is he’s the man for me. Did father ever do that for you +before you married?” + +“I can’t say he did, dear. But father was always a powerful heavy +sleeper.” + +“Well then, mother, you needn’t fret any more about me, for as sure as I +stand here, I’ll tell you to-morrow which of them it is to be.” + +That evening the farmer’s daughter set herself to clearing off all those +odd jobs which accumulate in a large household. She polished the dark, +old-fashioned furniture in the sitting-room. She cleared out the cellar, +re-arranged the bins, counted up the cider, made a great cauldron full +of raspberry jam, potted, papered, and labelled it. Long after the whole +household was in bed she pushed on with her self-imposed tasks until the +night was far gone and she very spent and weary. Then she stirred up the +smouldering kitchen fire and made herself a cup of tea, and, carrying +it up to her own room, she sat sipping it and glancing over an old bound +volume of the _Leisure Hour_. Her seat was behind the little dimity +window curtains, whence she could see without being seen. + +The morning had broken, and a brisk wind had sprung up with the dawn. +The sky was of the lightest, palest blue, with a scud of flying +white clouds shredded out over the face of it, dividing, coalescing, +overtaking one another, but sweeping ever from the pink of the east to +the still shadowy west. The high, eager voice of the wind whistled and +sang outside, rising from moan to shriek, and then sinking again to a +dull mutter and grumble. Dolly rose to wrap her shawl around her, and as +she sat down again in an instant her doubts were resolved, and she had +seen that for which she had waited. + +Her window faced the inner yard, and was some eight feet from the +ground. A man standing beneath it could not be seen from above. But she +saw enough to tell her all that she wished to know. Silently, suddenly, +a hand had appeared from below, had laid a sprig of flower upon her +ledge, and had disappeared. It did not take two seconds; she saw no +face, she heard no sound, but she had seen the hand and she wanted +nothing more. With a smile she threw herself upon the bed, drew a rug +over her, and dropped into a heavy slumber. + +She was awakened by her mother plucking at her shoulder. + +“It’s breakfast time, Dolly, but I thought you would be weary, so I +brought you lip some bread and coffee. Sit up, like a dearie, and take +it.” + +“All right, mother. Thank you. I’m all dressed, so I’ll be ready to come +down soon.” + +“Bless the gal, she’s never had her things off! And, dearie me, here’s +the flower outside the window, sure enough! Well, and did you see who +put it there?” + +“Yes, I did.” + +“Who was it then?” + +“It was Adam.” + +“Was it now? Well, I shouldn’t have thought that he had it in him. Then +Adam it’s to be. Well, he’s steady, and that’s better than being clever, +yea, seven-and-seventy fold. Did he come across the yard?” + +“No, along by the wall.” + +“How did you see him then?” + +“I didn’t see him.” + +“Then how can you tell?” + +“I saw his hand.” + +“But d’you tell me you know Adam’s hand?” + +“It would be a blind man that couldn’t tell it from Elias’ hand. Why, +the one is as brown as that coffee, and the other as white as the cup, +with great blue veins all over it.” + +“Well, now I shouldn’t have thought of it, but so it is. Well, it’ll be +a busy day, Dolly. Just hark to the wind!” + +It had, indeed, increased during the few hours since dawn to a very +violent tempest. The panes of the window rattled and shook. Glancing +out, Dolly saw cabbage leaves and straw whirling up past the casement. + +“The great hayrick is giving. They’re all out trying to prop it up. My, +but it do blow!” + +It did indeed! When Dolly came downstairs it was all that she could do +to push her way through the porch. All along the horizon the sky was +brassy-yellow, but above the wind screamed and stormed, and the torn, +hurrying clouds were now huddled together, and now frayed off into +countless tattered streamers. In the field near the house her father +and three or four labourers were working with poles and ropes, hatless, +their hair and beards flying, staving up a great bulging hayrick. Dolly +watched them for a moment, and then, stooping her head and rounding her +shoulders, with one hand up to her little black straw hat, she staggered +off across the fields. + +Adam Wilson was at work always on a particular part of the hillside, and +hither it was that she bent her steps. He saw the trim, dapper figure, +with its flying skirts and hat-ribbons, and he came forward to meet her +with a great white crowbar in his hand. He walked slowly, however, and +his eyes were downcast, with the air of a man who still treasures a +grievance. + +“Good mornin’, Miss Foster.” + +“Good morning, Mr. Wilson. Oh, if you are going to be cross with me, I’d +best go home again.” + +“I’m not cross, Miss Foster. I take it very kindly that you should come +out this way on such a day.” + +“I wanted to say to you--I wanted to say that I was sorry if I made you +angry yesterday. I didn’t mean to make fun. I didn’t, indeed. It is only +my way of talking. It was so good of you, so noble of you, to let it +make no difference.” + +“None at all, Dolly.” He was quite radiant again. “If I didn’t love you +so, I wouldn’t mind what that other chap said or did. And if I could +only think that you cared more for me than for him--” + +“I do, Adam.” + +“God bless you for saying so! You’ve lightened my heart, Dolly. I have +to go to Portsmouth for the firm today. To-morrow night I’ll come and +see you.” + +“Very well, Adam, I--Oh, my God, what’s that!” + +A rending breaking noise in the distance, a dull rumble, and a burst of +shouts and cries. + +“The rick’s down! There’s been an accident!” They both started running +down the hill. + +“Father!” panted the girl, “father!” + +“He’s all right!” shouted her companion, “I can see him. But there’s +some one down. They’re lifting him now. And here’s one running like mad +for the doctor.” + +A farm-labourer came rushing wildly up the lane. “Don’t you go, Missey,” + he cried. “A man’s hurt.” + +“Who?” + +“It’s Bill. The rick came down and the ridge-pole caught him across the +back. He’s dead, I think. Leastwise, there’s not much life in him. I’m +off for Doctor Strong!” He bent his shoulder to the wind, and lumbered +off down the road. + +“Poor Bill! Thank God it wasn’t father!” They were at the edge of +the field now in which the accident had taken place. The rick lay, a +shapeless mound upon the earth, with a long thick pole protruding from +it, which had formerly supported the tarpaulin drawn across it in case +of rain. Four men were walking slowly away, one shoulder humped, one +hanging, and betwixt them they bore a formless clay-coloured bundle. +He might have been a clod of the earth that he tilled, so passive, so +silent, still brown, for death itself could not have taken the burn from +his skin, but with patient, bovine eyes looking out heavily from under +half-closed lids. He breathed jerkily, but he neither cried out nor +groaned. There was something almost brutal and inhuman in his absolute +stolidity. He asked no sympathy, for his life had been without it. It +was a broken tool rather than an injured man. + +“Can I do anything, father?” + +“No, lass, no. This is no place for you. I’ve sent for the doctor. He’ll +be here soon.” + +“But where are they taking him?” + +“To the loft where he sleeps.” + +“I’m sure he’s welcome to my room, father.” + +“No, no, lass. Better leave it alone.” + +But the little group were passing as they spoke, and the injured lad had +heard the girl’s words. + +“Thank ye kindly, Missey,” he murmured, with a little flicker of life, +and then sank back again into his stolidity and his silence. + +Well, a farm hand is a useful thing, but what is a man to do with one +who has an injured spine and half his ribs smashed. Farmer Foster shook +his head and scratched his chin as he listened to the doctor’s report. + +“He can’t get better?” + +“No.” + +“Then we had better move him.” + +“Where to?” + +“To the work’us hospital. He came from there just this time eleven +years. It’ll be like going home to him.” + +“I fear that he is going home,” said the doctor gravely. “But it’s out +of the question to move him now. He must lie where he is for better or +for worse.” + +And it certainly looked for worse rather than for better. In a little +loft above the stable he was stretched upon a tiny blue pallet which +lay upon the planks. Above were the gaunt rafters, hung with saddles, +harness, old scythe blades--the hundred things which droop, like bats, +from inside such buildings. Beneath them upon two pegs hung his own +pitiable wardrobe, the blue shirt and the grey, the stained trousers, +and the muddy coat. A gaunt chaff-cutting machine stood at his head, and +a great bin of the chaff behind it. He lay very quiet, still dumb, still +uncomplaining, his eyes fixed upon the small square window looking out +at the drifting sky, and at this strange world which God has made so +queerly--so very queerly. + +An old woman, the wife of a labourer, had been set to nurse him, for the +doctor had said that he was not to be left. She moved about the room, +arranging and ordering, grumbling to herself from time to time at this +lonely task which had been assigned to her. There were some flowers in +broken jars upon a cross-beam, and these, with a touch of tenderness, +she carried over and arranged upon a deal packing-case beside the +patient’s head. He lay motionless, and as he breathed there came a +gritty rubbing sound from somewhere in his side, but he followed his +companion about with his eyes and even smiled once as she grouped the +flowers round him. + +He smiled again when he heard that Mrs. Foster and her daughter had been +to ask after him that evening. They had been down to the Post Office +together, where Dolly had sent off a letter which she had very carefully +drawn up, addressed to Elias Mason, Esq., and explaining to that +gentleman that she had formed her plans for life, and that he need spare +himself the pain of coming for his answer on the Saturday. As they came +back they stopped in the stable and inquired through the loft door as +to the sufferer. From where they stood they could hear that horrible +grating sound in his breathing. Dolly hurried away with her face quite +pale under her freckles. She was too young to face the horrid details of +suffering, and yet she was a year older than this poor waif, who lay in +silence, facing death itself. + +All night he lay very quiet--so quiet that were it not for that one +sinister sound his nurse might have doubted whether life was still in +him. She had watched him and tended him as well as she might, but she +was herself feeble and old, and just as the morning light began to steal +palely through the small loft window, she sank back in her chair in a +dreamless sleep. Two hours passed, and the first voices of the men as +they gathered for their work aroused her. She sprang to her feet. +Great heaven! the pallet was empty. She rushed down into the stables, +distracted, wringing her hands. There was no sign of him. But the stable +door was open. He must have walked-but how could he walk?--he must have +crawled--have writhed that way. Out she rushed, and as they heard her +tale, the newly risen labourers ran with her, until the farmer with his +wife and daughter were called from their breakfast by the bustle, and +joined also in this strange chase. A whoop, a cry, and they were drawn +round to the corner of the yard on which Miss Dolly’s window opened. +There he lay within a few yards of the window, his face upon the stones, +his feet thrusting out from his tattered night-gown, and his track +marked by the blood from his wounded knees. One hand was thrown out +before him, and in it he held a little sprig of the pink dog-rose. + +They carried him back, cold and stiff, to the pallet in the loft, and +the old nurse drew the sheet over him and left him, for there was no +need to watch him now. The girl had gone to her room, and her mother +followed her thither, all unnerved by this glimpse of death. + +“And to think,” said she, “that it was only _him_, after all.” + +But Dolly sat at the side of her bed, and sobbed bitterly in her apron. + + + + +“DE PROFUNDIS” + + +So long as the oceans are the ligaments which bind together the great +broad-cast British Empire, so long will there be a dash of romance in +our minds. For the soul is swayed by the waters, as the waters are by +the moon, and when the great highways of an empire are along such roads +as these, so full of strange sights and sounds, with danger ever running +like a hedge on either side of the course, it is a dull mind indeed +which does not bear away with it some trace of such a passage. And +now, Britain lies far beyond herself, for the three-mile limit of every +seaboard is her frontier, which has been won by hammer and loom and pick +rather than by arts of war. For it is written in history that neither +king nor army can bar the path to the man who having twopence in his +strong box, and knowing well where he can turn it to threepence, sets +his mind to that one end. And as the frontier has broadened, the mind of +Britain has broadened too, spreading out until all men can see that the +ways of the island are continental, even as those of the Continent are +insular. + +But for this a price must be paid, and the price is a grievous one. As +the beast of old must have one young human life as a tribute every year, +so to our Empire we throw from day to day the pick and flower of our +youth. The engine is world-wide and strong, but the only fuel that will +drive it is the lives of British men. Thus it is that in the grey old +cathedrals, as we look round upon the brasses on the walls, we see +strange names, such names as they who reared those walls had never +heard, for it is in Peshawar, and Umballah, and Korti and Fort Pearson +that the youngsters die, leaving only a precedent and a brass behind +them. But if every man had his obelisk, even where he lay, then no +frontier line need be drawn, for a cordon of British graves would ever +show how high the Anglo-Celtic tide had lapped. + +This, then, as well as the waters which join us to the world, has done +something to tinge us with romance. For when so many have their loved +ones over the seas, walking amid hillmen’s bullets, or swamp malaria, +where death is sudden and distance great, then mind communes with mind, +and strange stories arise of dream, presentiment or vision, where the +mother sees her dying son, and is past the first bitterness of her grief +ere the message comes which should have broken the news. The learned +have of late looked into the matter and have even labelled it with a +name; but what can we know more of it save that a poor stricken +soul, when hard-pressed and driven, can shoot across the earth some +ten-thousand-mile-distant picture of its trouble to the mind which is +most akin to it. Far be it from me to say that there lies no such power +within us, for of all things which the brain will grasp the last will +be itself; but yet it is well to be very cautious over such matters, for +once at least I have known that which was within the laws of nature seem +to be far upon the further side of them. + +John Vansittart was the younger partner of the firm of Hudson and +Vansittart, coffee exporters of the Island of Ceylon, three-quarters +Dutchman by descent, but wholly English in his sympathies. For years I +had been his agent in London, and when in ‘72 he came over to England +for a three months’ holiday, he turned to me for the introductions which +would enable him to see something of town and country life. Armed with +seven letters he left my offices, and for many weeks scrappy notes from +different parts of the country let me know that he had found favour +in the eyes of my friends. Then came word of his engagement to Emily +Lawson, of a cadet branch of the Hereford Lawsons, and at the very tail +of the first flying rumour the news of his absolute marriage, for the +wooing of a wanderer must be short, and the days were already crowding +on towards the date when he must be upon his homeward journey. They +were to return together to Colombo in one of the firm’s own thousand-ton +barque-rigged sailing ships, and this was to be their princely +honeymoon, at once a necessity and a delight. + +Those were the royal days of coffee-planting in Ceylon, before a single +season and a rotten fungus drove a whole community through years of +despair to one of the greatest commercial victories which pluck and +ingenuity ever won. Not often is it that men have the heart when their +one great industry is withered to rear up in a few years another as rich +to take its place, and the tea-fields of Ceylon are as true a monument +to courage as is the lion at Waterloo. But in ‘72 there was no cloud +yet above the skyline, and the hopes of the planters were as high and +as bright as the hillsides on which they reared their crops. Vansittart +came down to London with his young and beautiful wife. I was introduced, +dined with them, and it was finally arranged that I, since business +called me also to Ceylon, should be a fellow-passenger with them on the +_Eastern Star_, which was timed to sail on the following Monday. + +It was on the Sunday evening that I saw him again. He was shown up +into my rooms about nine o’clock at night, with the air of a man who is +bothered and out of sorts. His hand, as I shook it, was hot and dry. + +“I wish, Atkinson,” said he, “that you could give me a little lime juice +and water. I have a beastly thirst upon me, and the more I take the more +I seem to want.” + +I rang and ordered a carafe and glasses. “You are flushed,” said I. “You +don’t look the thing.” + +“No, I’m clean off colour. Got a touch of rheumatism in my back, and +don’t seem to taste my food. It is this vile London that is choking me. +I’m not used to breathing air which has been used up by four million +lungs all sucking away on every side of you.” He flapped his crooked +hands before his face, like a man who really struggles for his breath. + +“A touch of the sea will soon set you right.” + +“Yes, I’m of one mind with you there. That’s the thing for me. I want +no other doctor. If I don’t get to sea to-morrow I’ll have an illness. +There are no two ways about it.” He drank off a tumbler of lime juice, +and clapped his two hands with his knuckles doubled up into the small of +his back. + +“That seems to ease me,” said he, looking at me with a filmy eye. “Now I +want your help, Atkinson, for I am rather awkwardly placed.” + +“As how?” + +“This way. My wife’s mother got ill and wired for her. I couldn’t +go--you know best yourself how tied I have been--so she had to go alone. +Now I’ve had another wire to say that she can’t come to-morrow, but that +she will pick up the ship at Falmouth on Wednesday. We put in there, +you know, and in, though I count it hard, Atkinson, that a man should +be asked to believe in a mystery, and cursed if he can’t do it. Cursed, +mind you, no less.” He leaned forward and began to draw a catchy breath +like a man who is poised on the very edge of a sob. + +Then first it came to my mind that I had heard much of the hard-drinking +life of the island, and that from brandy came those wild words and +fevered hands. The flushed cheek and the glazing eye were those of one +whose drink is strong upon him. Sad it was to see so noble a young man +in the grip of that most bestial of all the devils. + +“You should lie down,” I said, with some severity. + +He screwed up his eyes like a man who is striving to wake himself, and +looked up with an air of surprise. + +“So I shall presently,” said he, quite rationally. “I felt quite swimmy +just now, but I am my own man again now. Let me see, what was I talking +about? Oh ah, of course, about the wife. She joins the ship at Falmouth. +Now I want to go round by water. I believe my health depends upon it. +I just want a little clean first-lung air to set me on my feet again. I +ask you, like a good fellow, to go to Falmouth by rail, so that in case +we should be late you may be there to look after the wife. Put up at +the Royal Hotel, and I will wire her that you are there. Her sister will +bring her down, so that it will be all plain sailing.” + +“I’ll do it with pleasure,” said I. “In fact, I would rather go by +rail, for we shall have enough and to spare of the sea before we reach +Colombo. I believe too that you badly need a change. Now, I should go +and turn in, if I were you.” + +“Yes, I will. I sleep aboard tonight. You know,” he continued, as the +film settled down again over his eyes, “I’ve not slept well the last +few nights. I’ve been troubled with theolololog--that is to say, +theolological--hang it,” with a desperate effort, “with the doubts of +theolologicians. Wondering why the Almighty made us, you know, and why +He made our heads swimmy, and fixed little pains into the small of our +backs. Maybe I’ll do better tonight.” He rose and steadied himself with +an effort against the corner of the chair back. + +“Look here, Vansittart,” said I, gravely, stepping up to him, and laying +my hand upon his sleeve, “I can give you a shakedown here. You are +not fit to go out. You are all over the place. You’ve been mixing your +drinks.” + +“Drinks!” He stared at me stupidly. + +“You used to carry your liquor better than this.” + +“I give you my word, Atkinson, that I have not had a drain for two days. +It’s not drink. I don’t know what it is. I suppose you think this is +drink.” He took up my hand in his burning grasp, and passed it over his +own forehead. + +“Great Lord!” said I. + +His skin felt like a thin sheet of velvet beneath which lies a +close-packed layer of small shot. It was smooth to the touch at any one +place, but to a finger passed along it, rough as a nutmeg grater. + +“It’s all right,” said he, smiling at my startled face. “I’ve had the +prickly heat nearly as bad.” + +“But this is never prickly heat.” + +“No, it’s London. It’s breathing bad air. But tomorrow it’ll be all +right. There’s a surgeon aboard, so I shall be in safe hands. I must be +off now.” + +“Not you,” said I, pushing him back into a chair. “This is past a joke. +You don’t move from here until a doctor sees you. Just stay where you +are.” + +I caught up my hat, and rushing round to the house of a neighbouring +physician, I brought him back with me. The room was empty and Vansittart +gone. I rang the bell. The servant said that the gentleman had ordered a +cab the instant that I had left, and had gone off in it. He had told the +cabman to drive to the docks. + +“Did the gentleman seem ill?” I asked. + +“Ill!” The man smiled. “No, sir, he was singin’ his ‘ardest all the +time.” + +The information was not as reassuring as my servant seemed to think, but +I reflected that he was going straight back to the _Eastern Star_, and +that there was a doctor aboard of her, so that there was nothing which I +could do in the matter. None the less, when I thought of his thirst, his +burning hands, his heavy eye, his tripping speech, and lastly, of that +leprous forehead, I carried with me to bed an unpleasant memory of my +visitor and his visit. + +At eleven o’clock next day I was at the docks, but the _Eastern Star_ +had already moved down the river, and was nearly at Gravesend. To +Gravesend I went by train, but only to see her topmasts far off, with +a plume of smoke from a tug in front of her. I would hear no more of my +friend until I rejoined him at Falmouth. When I got back to my offices, +a telegram was awaiting me from Mrs. Vansittart, asking me to meet her; +and next evening found us both at the Royal Hotel, Falmouth, where we +were to wait for the _Eastern Star_. Ten days passed, and there came no +news of her. + +They were ten days which I am not likely to forget. On the very day that +the _Eastern Star_ had cleared from the Thames, a furious easterly gale +had sprung up, and blew on from day to day for the greater part of a +week without the sign of a lull. Such a screaming, raving, long-drawn +storm has never been known on the southern coast. From our hotel +windows the sea view was all banked in haze, with a little rain-swept +half-circle under our very eyes, churned and lashed into one tossing +stretch of foam. So heavy was the wind upon the waves that little sea +could rise, for the crest of each billow was torn shrieking from it, and +lashed broadcast over the bay. Clouds, wind, sea, all were rushing to +the west, and there, looking down at this mad jumble of elements, I +waited on day after day, my sole companion a white, silent woman, with +terror in her eyes, her forehead pressed ever against the window, her +gaze from early morning to the fall of night fixed upon that wall +of grey haze through which the loom of a vessel might come. She said +nothing, but that face of hers was one long wail of fear. + +On the fifth day I took counsel with an old seaman. I should have +preferred to have done so alone, but she saw me speak with him, and was +at our side in an instant, with parted lips and a prayer in her eyes. + +“Seven days out from London,” said he, “and five in the gale. Well, the +Channel’s swept clear by this wind. There’s three things for it. She may +have popped into port on the French side. That’s like enough.” + +“No, no; he knew we were here. He would have telegraphed.” + +“Ah, yes, so he would. Well, then, he might have run for it, and if he +did that he won’t be very far from Madeira by now. That’ll be it, marm, +you may depend.” + +“Or else? You said there was a third chance.” + +“Did I, marm? No, only two, I think. I don’t think I said anything of a +third. Your ship’s out there, depend upon it, away out in the Atlantic, +and you’ll hear of it time enough, for the weather is breaking. Now +don’t you fret, marm, and wait quiet, and you’ll find a real blue +Cornish sky tomorrow.” + +The old seaman was right in his surmise, for the next day broke calm +and bright, with only a low dwindling cloud in the west to mark the last +trailing wreaths of the storm-wrack. But still there came no word from +the sea, and no sign of the ship. Three more weary days had passed, the +weariest that I have ever spent, when there came a seafaring man to the +hotel with a letter. I gave a shout of joy. It was from the captain of +the _Eastern Star_. As I read the first lines of it I whisked my hand +over it, but she laid her own upon it and drew it away. “I have seen +it,” said she, in a cold, quiet voice. “I may as well see the rest, +too.” + + +“DEAR SIR,” said the letter, + +“Mr. Vansittart is down with the small-pox, and we are blown so far +on our course that we don’t know what to do, he being off his head and +unfit to tell us. By dead reckoning we are but three hundred miles from +Funchal, so I take it that it is best that we should push on there, +get Mr. V. into hospital, and wait in the Bay until you come. There’s +a sailing-ship due from Falmouth to Funchal in a few days’ time, as I +understand. This goes by the brig _Marian_ of Falmouth, and five pounds +is due to the master, Yours respectfully, + +“JNO. HINES.” + + +She was a wonderful woman that, only a chit of a girl fresh from school, +but as quiet and strong as a man. She said nothing--only pressed her +lips together tight, and put on her bonnet. + +“You are going out?” I asked. + +“Yes.” + +“Can I be of use?” + +“No; I am going to the doctor’s.” + +“To the doctor’s?” + +“Yes. To learn how to nurse a small-pox case.” + +She was busy at that all the evening, and next morning we were off with +a fine ten-knot breeze in the barque _Rose of Sharon_ for Madeira. For +five days we made good time, and were no great way from the island; but +on the sixth there fell a calm, and we lay without motion on a sea of +oil, heaving slowly, but making not a foot of way. + +At ten o’clock that night Emily Vansittart and I stood leaning on the +starboard railing of the poop, with a full moon shining at our backs, +and casting a black shadow of the barque, and of our own two heads +upon the shining water. From the shadow a broadening path of moonshine +stretched away to the lonely sky-line, flickering and shimmering in the +gentle heave of the swell. We were talking with bent heads, chatting +of the calm, of the chances of wind, of the look of the sky, when there +came a sudden plop, like a rising salmon, and there, in the clear light, +John Vansittart sprang out of the water and looked up at us. + +I never saw anything clearer in my life than I saw that man. The moon +shone full upon him, and he was but three oars’ lengths away. His face +was more puffed than when I had seen him last, mottled here and there +with dark scabs, his mouth and eyes open as one who is struck with +some overpowering surprise. He had some white stuff streaming from his +shoulders, and one hand was raised to his ear, the other crooked across +his breast. I saw him leap from the water into the air, and in the dead +calm the waves of his coming lapped up against the sides of the vessel. +Then his figure sank back into the water again, and I heard a rending, +crackling sound like a bundle of brushwood snapping in the fire on a +frosty night. There were no signs of him when I looked again, but a +swift swirl and eddy on the still sea still marked the spot where he had +been. How long I stood there, tingling to my finger-tips, holding up +an unconscious woman with one hand, clutching at the rail of the vessel +with the other, was more than I could afterwards tell. I had been noted +as a man of-slow and unresponsive emotions, but this time at least I was +shaken to the core. Once and twice I struck my foot upon the deck to be +certain that I was indeed the master of my own senses, and that this was +not some mad prank of an unruly brain. As I stood, still marvelling, the +woman shivered, opened her eyes, gasped, and then standing erect with +her hands upon the rail, looked out over the moonlit sea with a face +which had aged ten years in a summer night. + +“You saw his vision?” she murmured. + +“I saw something.” + +“It was he! It was John! He is dead!” + +I muttered some lame words of doubt. + +“Doubtless he died at this hour,” she whispered. “In hospital at +Madeira. I have read of such things. His thoughts were with me. His +vision came to me. Oh, my John, my dear, dear, lost John!” + +She broke out suddenly into a storm of weeping, and I led her down into +her cabin, where I left her with her sorrow. That night a brisk breeze +blew up from the east, and in the evening of the next day we passed the +two islets of Los Desertos, and dropped anchor at sundown in the Bay +of Funchal. The _Eastern Star_ lay no great distance from us, with the +quarantine flag flying from her main, and her Jack half-way up her peak. + +“You see,” said Mrs. Vansittart, quickly. She was dry-eyed now, for she +had known how it would be. + +That night we received permission from the authorities to move on board +the _Eastern Star_. The captain, Hines, was waiting upon deck with +confusion and grief contending upon his bluff face as he sought for +words with which to break this heavy tidings, but she took the story +from his lips. + +“I know that my husband is dead,” she said. “He died yesterday night, +about ten o’clock, in hospital at Madeira, did he not?” + +The seaman stared aghast. “No, marm, he died eight days ago at sea, and +we had to bury him out there, for we lay in a belt of calm, and could +not say when we might make the land.” + +Well, those are the main facts about the death of John Vansittart, and +his appearance to his wife somewhere about lat. 35 N. and long. 15 W. A +clearer case of a wraith has seldom been made out, and since then it has +been told as such, and put into print as such, and endorsed by a learned +society as such, and so floated off with many others to support the +recent theory of telepathy. For myself, I hold telepathy to be proved, +but I would snatch this one case from amid the evidence, and say that +I do not think that it was the wraith of John Vansittart, but John +Vansittart himself whom we saw that night leaping into the moonlight +out of the depths of the Atlantic. It has ever been my belief that some +strange chance--one of those chances which seem so improbable and yet so +constantly occur--had becalmed us over the very spot where the man had +been buried a week before. For the rest, the surgeon tells me that the +leaden weight was not too firmly fixed, and that seven days bring about +changes which fetch a body to the surface. Coming from the depth to +which the weight would have sunk it, he explains that it might well +attain such a velocity as to carry it clear of the water. Such is my +own explanation of the matter, and if you ask me what then became of +the body, I must recall to you that snapping, crackling sound, with the +swirl in the water. The shark is a surface feeder and is plentiful in +those parts. + + + + +THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR + + +It was a cold, foggy, dreary evening in May. Along the Strand blurred +patches of light marked the position of the lamps. The flaring shop +windows flickered vaguely with steamy brightness through the thick and +heavy atmosphere. + +The high lines of houses which lead down to the Embankment were all +dark and deserted, or illuminated only by the glimmering lamp of the +caretaker. At one point, however, there shone out from three windows +upon the second floor a rich flood of light, which broke the sombre +monotony of the terrace. Passers-by glanced up curiously, and drew each +other’s attention to the ruddy glare, for it marked the chambers of +Francis Pericord, the inventor and electrical engineer. Long into the +watches of the night the gleam of his lamps bore witness to the untiring +energy and restless industry which was rapidly carrying him to the first +rank in his profession. + +Within the chamber sat two men. The one was Pericord himself--hawk-faced +and angular, with the black hair and brisk bearing which spoke of his +Celtic origin. The other--thick, sturdy, and blue-eyed--was Jeremy +Brown, the well-known mechanician. They had been partners in many an +invention, in which the creative genius of the one had been aided by the +practical abilities of the other. It was a question among their friends +as to which was the better man. + +It was no chance visit which had brought Brown into Pericord’s workshop +at so late an hour. Business was to be done--business which was to +decide the failure or success of months of work, and which might affect +their whole careers. Between them lay a long brown table, stained and +corroded by strong acids, and littered with giant carboys, Faure’s +accumulators, voltaic piles, coils of wire, and great blocks of +non-conducting porcelain. In the midst of all this lumber there stood +a singular whizzing, whirring machine, upon which the eyes of both +partners were riveted. + +A small square metal receptacle was connected by numerous wires to +a broad steel girdle, furnished on either side with two powerful +projecting joints. The girdle was motionless, but the joints with the +short arms attached to them flashed round every few seconds, with +a pause between each rhythmic turn. The power which moved them came +evidently from the metal box. A subtle odour of ozone was in the air. + +“How about the flanges, Brown?” asked the inventor. + +“They were too large to bring. They are seven foot by three. There is +power enough there to work them, however. I will answer for that.” + +“Aluminium with an alloy of copper?” + +“Yes.” + +“See how beautifully it works.” Pericord stretched out a thin, nervous +hand, and pressed a button upon the machine. The joints revolved more +slowly, and came presently to a dead stop. Again he touched a spring and +the arms shivered and woke up again into their crisp metallic life. “The +experimenter need not exert his muscular powers,” he remarked. “He has +only to be passive, and use his intelligence.” + +“Thanks to my motor,” said Brown. + +“_Our_ motor,” the other broke in sharply. + +“Oh, of course,” said his colleague impatiently. + +“The motor which you thought of, and which I reduced to practice--call +it what you like.” + +“I call it the Brown-Pericord Motor,” cried the inventor with an angry +flash of his dark eyes. “You worked out the details, but the abstract +thought is mine, and mine alone.” + +“An abstract thought won’t turn an engine,” said Brown, doggedly. + +“That was why I took you into partnership,” the other retorted, drumming +nervously with his fingers upon the table. “I invent, you build. It is a +fair division of labour.” + +Brown pursed up his lips, as though by no means satisfied upon the +point. Seeing, however, that further argument was useless, he turned +his attention to the machine, which was shivering and rocking with each +swing of its arms, as though a very little more would send it skimming +from the table. + +“Is it not splendid?” cried Pericord. + +“It is satisfactory,” said the more phlegmatic Anglo-Saxon. + +“There’s immortality in it!” + +“There’s money in it!” + +“Our names will go down with Montgolfier’s.” + +“With Rothschild’s, I hope.” + +“No, no, Brown; you take too material a view,” cried the inventor, +raising his gleaming eyes from the machine to his companion. “Our +fortunes are a mere detail. Money is a thing which every heavy-witted +plutocrat in the country shares with us. My hopes rise to something +higher than that. Our true reward will come in the gratitude and +goodwill of the human race.” + +Brown shrugged his shoulders. “You may have my share of that,” he said. +“I am a practical man. We must test our invention.” + +“Where can we do it?” + +“That is what I wanted to speak about. It must be absolutely secret. If +we had private grounds of our own it would be an easy matter, but there +is no privacy in London.” + +“We must take it into the country.” + +“I have a suggestion to offer,” said Brown. “My brother has a place in +Sussex on the high land near Beachy Head. There is, I remember, a large +and lofty barn near the house. Will is in Scotland, but the key is +always at my disposal. Why not take the machine down tomorrow and test +it in the barn?” + +“Nothing could be better.” + +“There is a train to Eastbourne at one.” + +“I shall be at the station.” + +“Bring the gear with you, and I will bring the flanges,” said the +mechanician, rising. “Tomorrow will prove whether we have been following +a shadow, or whether fortune is at our feet. One o’clock at Victoria.” + He walked swiftly down the stair and was quickly reabsorbed into the +flood of comfortless clammy humanity which ebbed and flowed along the +Strand. + +The morning was bright and spring-like. A pale blue sky arched over +London, with a few gauzy white clouds drifting lazily across it. At +eleven o’clock Brown might have been seen entering the Patent Office +with a great roll of parchment, diagrams, and plans under his arm. At +twelve he emerged again smiling, and, opening his pocket-book, he packed +away very carefully a small slip of official blue paper. At five minutes +to one his cab rolled into Victoria Station. Two giant canvas-covered +parcels, like enormous kites, were handed down by the cabman from the +top, and consigned to the care of a guard. On the platform Pericord was +pacing up and down, with long eager step and swinging arms, a tinge of +pink upon his sunken and sallow cheeks. + +“All right?” he asked. + +Brown pointed in answer to his baggage. + +“I have the motor and the girdle already packed away in the guard’s van. +Be careful, guard, for it is delicate machinery of great value. So! Now +we can start with an easy conscience.” + +At Eastbourne the precious motor was carried to a four-wheeler, and the +great flanges hoisted on the top. A long drive took them to the house +where the keys were kept, whence they set off across the barren Downs. +The building which was their destination was a commonplace white-washed +structure, with straggling stables and out-houses, standing in a grassy +hollow which sloped down from the edge of the chalk cliffs. It was a +cheerless house even when in use, but now with its smokeless chimneys +and shuttered windows it looked doubly dreary. The owner had planted a +grove of young larches and firs around it, but the sweeping spray had +blighted them, and they hung their withered heads in melancholy groups. +It was a gloomy and forbidding spot. + +But the inventors were in no mood to be moved by such trifles. The +lonelier the place, the more fitted for their purpose. With the help of +the cabman they carried their packages down the footpath, and laid them +in the darkened dining-room. The sun was setting as the distant murmur +of wheels told them that they were finally alone. + +Pericord had thrown open the shutters and the mellow evening light +streamed in through the discoloured windows. Brown drew a knife from his +pocket and cut the pack-thread with which the canvas was secured. As the +brown covering fell away it disclosed two great yellow metal fans. These +he leaned carefully against the wall. The girdle, the connecting-bands, +and the motor were then in turn unpacked. It was dark before all was set +out in order. A lamp was lit, and by its light the two men continued to +tighten screws, clinch rivets, and make the last preparations for their +experiment. + +“That finishes it,” said Brown at last, stepping back and surveying the +machine. + +Pericord said nothing, but his face glowed with pride and expectation. + +“We must have something to eat,” Brown remarked, laying out some +provisions which he had brought with him. + +“Afterwards.” + +“No, now,” said the stolid mechanician. “I am half starved.” He pulled +up to the table and made a hearty meal, while his Celtic companion +strode impatiently up and down, with twitching fingers and restless +eyes. + +“Now then,” said Brown, facing round, and brushing the crumbs from his +lap, “who is to put it on?” + +“I shall,” cried his companion eagerly. “What we do to-night is likely +to be historic.” + +“But there is some danger,” suggested Brown. “We cannot quite tell how +it may act.” + +“That is nothing,” said Pericord, with a wave of his hand. + +“But there is no use our going out of our way to incur danger.” + +“What then? One of us must do it.” + +“Not at all. The motor would act equally well if attached to any +inanimate object.” + +“That is true,” said Pericord, thoughtfully. + +“There are bricks by the barn. I have a sack here. Why should not a +bagful of them take your place?” + +“It is a good idea. I see no objection.” + +“Come on then,” and the two sallied out, bearing with them the various +sections of their machine. The moon was shining cold and clear though +an occasional ragged cloud drifted across her face. All was still and +silent upon the Downs. They stood and listened before they entered the +barn, but not a sound came to their ears, save the dull murmur of the +sea and the distant barking of a dog. Pericord journeyed backwards and +forwards with all that they might need, while Brown filled a long narrow +sack with bricks. + +When all was ready, the door of the barn was closed, and the lamp +balanced upon an empty packing-case. The bag of bricks was laid upon +two trestles, and the broad steel girdle was buckled round it. Then the +great flanges, the wires, and the metal box containing the motor were +in turn attached to the girdle. Last of all a flat steel rudder, shaped +like a fish’s tail, was secured to the bottom of the sack. + +“We must make it travel in a small circle,” said Pericord, glancing +round at the bare high walls. + +“Tie the rudder down at one side,” suggested Brown. “Now it is ready. +Press the connection and off she goes!” + +Pericord leaned forward, his long sallow face quivering with excitement. +His white nervous hands darted here and there among the wires. Brown +stood impassive with critical eyes. There was a sharp burr from the +machine. The huge yellow wings gave a convulsive flap. Then another. +Then a third, slower and stronger, with a fuller sweep. Then a fourth +which filled the barn with a blast of driven air. At the fifth the bag +of bricks began to dance upon the trestles. At the sixth it sprang into +the air, and would have fallen to the ground, but the seventh came to +save it, and fluttered it forward through the air. Slowly rising, it +flapped heavily round in a circle, like some great clumsy bird, filling +the barn with its buzzing and whirring. In the uncertain yellow light +of the single lamp it was strange to see the loom of the ungainly thing, +flapping off into the shadows, and then circling back into the narrow +zone of light. + +The two men stood for a while in silence. Then Pericord threw his long +arms up into the air. + +“It acts!” he cried. “The Brown-Pericord Motor acts!” He danced about +like a madman in his delight. Brown’s eyes twinkled, and he began to +whistle. + +“See how smoothly it goes, Brown!” cried the inventor. “And the +rudder--how well it acts! We must register it tomorrow.” + +His comrade’s face darkened and set. “It _is_ registered,” he said, with +a forced laugh. + +“Registered?” said Pericord. “Registered?” He repeated the word first in +a whisper, and then in a kind of scream. “Who has dared to register my +invention?” + +“I did it this morning. There is nothing to be excited about. It is all +right.” + +“You registered the motor! Under whose name?” + +“Under my own,” said Brown, sullenly. “I consider that I have the best +right to it.” + +“And my name does not appear?” + +“No, but--” + +“You villain!” screamed Pericord. “You thief and villain! You would +steal my work! You would filch my credit! I will have that patent back +if I have to tear your throat out!” A sombre fire burned in his black +eyes, and his hands writhed themselves together with passion. Brown was +no coward, but he shrank back as the other advanced upon him. + +“Keep your hands off!” he said, drawing a knife from his pocket. “I will +defend myself if you attack me.” + +“You threaten me?” cried Pericord, whose face was livid with anger. “You +are a bully as well as a cheat. Will you give up the patent?” + +“No, I will not.” + +“Brown, I say, give it up!” + +“I will not. I did the work.” + +Pericord sprang madly forward with blazing eyes and clutching fingers. +His companion writhed out of his grasp, but was dashed against the +packing-case, over which he fell. The lamp was extinguished, and the +whole barn plunged into darkness. A single ray of moonlight shining +through a narrow chink flickered over the great waving fans as they came +and went. + +“Will you give up the patent, Brown?” + +There was no answer. + +“Will you give it up?” + +Again no answer. Not a sound save the humming and creaking overhead. +A cold pang of fear and doubt struck through Pericord’s heart. He felt +aimlessly about in the dark and his fingers closed upon a hand. It was +cold and unresponsive. With all his anger turned to icy horror he struck +a match, set the lamp up, and lit it. + +Brown lay huddled up on the other side of the packing-case. Pericord +seized him in his arms, and with convulsive strength lifted him across. +Then the mystery of his silence was explained. He had fallen with his +right arms doubled up under him, and his own weight had driven the knife +deeply into his body. He had died without a groan. The tragedy had been +sudden, horrible, and complete. + +Pericord sat silently on the edge of the case, staring blankly down, and +shivering like one with the ague, while the great Brown-Pericord Motor +boomed and hurtled above him. How long he sat there can never be known. +It might have been minutes or it might have been hours. A thousand mad +schemes flashed through his dazed brain. It was true that he had been +only the indirect cause. But who would believe that? He glanced down at +his blood-spattered clothing. Everything was against him. It would be +better to fly than to give himself up, relying upon his innocence. No +one in London knew where they were. If he could dispose of the body he +might have a few days clear before any suspicion would be aroused. + +Suddenly a loud crash recalled him to himself. The flying sack had +gradually risen with each successive circle until it had struck against +the rafters. The blow displaced the connecting-gear, and the machine +fell heavily to the ground. Pericord undid the girdle. The motor was +uninjured. A sudden strange thought flashed upon him as he looked at it. +The machine had become hateful to him. He might dispose both of it and +the body in a way that would baffle all human search. + +He threw open the barn door, and carried his companion out into the +moonlight. There was a hillock outside, and on the summit of this he +laid him reverently down. Then he brought from the barn the motor, the +girdle and the flanges. With trembling fingers he fastened the broad +steel belt round the dead man’s waist. Then he screwed the wings into +the sockets. Beneath he slung the motor-box, fastened the wires, and +switched on the connection. For a minute or two the huge yellow fans +flapped and flickered. Then the body began to move in little jumps down +the side of the hillock, gathering a gradual momentum, until at last it +heaved up into the air and soared off in the moonlight. He had not used +the rudder, but had turned the head for the south. Gradually the weird +thing rose higher, and sped faster, until it had passed over the line of +cliff, and was sweeping over the silent sea. Pericord watched it with +a white drawn face, until it looked like a black bird with golden wings +half shrouded in the mist which lay over the waters. + +In the New York State Lunatic Asylum there is a wild-eyed man whose name +and birth-place are alike unknown. His reason has been unseated by some +sudden shock, the doctors say, though of what nature they are unable to +determine. “It is the most delicate machine which is most readily put +out of gear,” they remark, and point, in proof of their axiom, to the +complicated electric engines, and remarkable aeronautic machines which +the patient is fond of devising in his more lucid moments. + + + + +THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP + + +The following narrative was found among the papers of Dr. James +Hardcastle, who died of phthisis on February 4th, 1908, at 36, Upper +Coventry Flats, South Kensington. Those who knew him best, while +refusing to express an opinion upon this particular statement, are +unanimous in asserting that he was a man of a sober and scientific turn +of mind, absolutely devoid of imagination, and most unlikely to invent +any abnormal series of events. The paper was contained in an envelope, +which was docketed, “A Short Account of the Circumstances which occurred +near Miss Allerton’s Farm in North-West Derbyshire in the Spring of Last +Year.” The envelope was sealed, and on the other side was written in +pencil-- + +DEAR SEATON,-- + +“It may interest, and perhaps pain you, to know that the incredulity +with which you met my story has prevented me from ever opening my mouth +upon the subject again. I leave this record after my death, and perhaps +strangers may be found to have more confidence in me than my friend.” + + +Inquiry has failed to elicit who this Seaton may have been. I may add +that the visit of the deceased to Allerton’s Farm, and the general +nature of the alarm there, apart from his particular explanation, have +been absolutely established. With this foreword I append his account +exactly as he left it. It is in the form of a diary, some entries in +which have been expanded, while a few have been erased. + + +April 17.--Already I feel the benefit of this wonderful upland air. +The farm of the Allertons lies fourteen hundred and twenty feet above +sea-level, so it may well be a bracing climate. Beyond the usual morning +cough I have very little discomfort, and, what with the fresh milk and +the home-grown mutton, I have every chance of putting on weight. I think +Saunderson will be pleased. + +The two Miss Allertons are charmingly quaint and kind, two dear little +hard-working old maids, who are ready to lavish all the heart which +might have gone out to husband and to children upon an invalid stranger. +Truly, the old maid is a most useful person, one of the reserve forces +of the community. They talk of the superfluous woman, but what would +the poor superfluous man do without her kindly presence? By the way, +in their simplicity they very quickly let out the reason why Saunderson +recommended their farm. The Professor rose from the ranks himself, and +I believe that in his youth he was not above scaring crows in these very +fields. + +It is a most lonely spot, and the walks are picturesque in the extreme. +The farm consists of grazing land lying at the bottom of an irregular +valley. On each side are the fantastic limestone hills, formed of rock +so soft that you can break it away with your hands. All this country is +hollow. Could you strike it with some gigantic hammer it would boom like +a drum, or possibly cave in altogether and expose some huge subterranean +sea. A great sea there must surely be, for on all sides the streams run +into the mountain itself, never to reappear. There are gaps everywhere +amid the rocks, and when you pass through them you find yourself in +great caverns, which wind down into the bowels of the earth. I have a +small bicycle lamp, and it is a perpetual joy to me to carry it into +these weird solitudes, and to see the wonderful silver and black effect +when I throw its light upon the stalactites which drape the lofty roofs. +Shut off the lamp, and you are in the blackest darkness. Turn it on, and +it is a scene from the Arabian Nights. + +But there is one of these strange openings in the earth which has a +special interest, for it is the handiwork, not of nature, but of man. I +had never heard of Blue John when I came to these parts. It is the name +given to a peculiar mineral of a beautiful purple shade, which is only +found at one or two places in the world. It is so rare that an ordinary +vase of Blue John would be valued at a great price. The Romans, with +that extraordinary instinct of theirs, discovered that it was to be +found in this valley, and sank a horizontal shaft deep into the mountain +side. The opening of their mine has been called Blue John Gap, a +clean-cut arch in the rock, the mouth all overgrown with bushes. It is +a goodly passage which the Roman miners have cut, and it intersects some +of the great water-worn caves, so that if you enter Blue John Gap you +would do well to mark your steps and to have a good store of candles, or +you may never make your way back to the daylight again. I have not +yet gone deeply into it, but this very day I stood at the mouth of the +arched tunnel, and peering down into the black recesses beyond, I vowed +that when my health returned I would devote some holiday to exploring +those mysterious depths and finding out for myself how far the Roman had +penetrated into the Derbyshire hills. + +Strange how superstitious these countrymen are! I should have thought +better of young Armitage, for he is a man of some education and +character, and a very fine fellow for his station in life. I was +standing at the Blue John Gap when he came across the field to me. + +“Well, doctor,” said he, “you’re not afraid, anyhow.” + +“Afraid!” I answered. “Afraid of what?” + +“Of it,” said he, with a jerk of his thumb towards the black vault, “of +the Terror that lives in the Blue John Cave.” + +How absurdly easy it is for a legend to arise in a lonely countryside! I +examined him as to the reasons for his weird belief. It seems that from +time to time sheep have been missing from the fields, carried bodily +away, according to Armitage. That they could have wandered away of their +own accord and disappeared among the mountains was an explanation to +which he would not listen. On one occasion a pool of blood had been +found, and some tufts of wool. That also, I pointed out, could be +explained in a perfectly natural way. Further, the nights upon which +sheep disappeared were invariably very dark, cloudy nights with no moon. +This I met with the obvious retort that those were the nights which a +commonplace sheep-stealer would naturally choose for his work. On one +occasion a gap had been made in a wall, and some of the stones scattered +for a considerable distance. Human agency again, in my opinion. Finally, +Armitage clinched all his arguments by telling me that he had actually +heard the Creature--indeed, that anyone could hear it who remained long +enough at the Gap. It was a distant roaring of an immense volume. +I could not but smile at this, knowing, as I do, the strange +reverberations which come out of an underground water system running +amid the chasms of a limestone formation. My incredulity annoyed +Armitage, so that he turned and left me with some abruptness. + +And now comes the queer point about the whole business. I was still +standing near the mouth of the cave turning over in my mind the various +statements of Armitage, and reflecting how readily they could be +explained away, when suddenly, from the depth of the tunnel beside me, +there issued a most extraordinary sound. How shall I describe it? First +of all it seemed to be a great distance away, far down in the bowels +of the earth. Secondly, in spite of this suggestion of distance, it was +very loud. Lastly, it was not a boom, nor a crash, such as one would +associate with falling water or tumbling rock, but it was a high whine, +tremulous and vibrating, almost like the whinnying of a horse. It was +certainly a most remarkable experience, and one which for a moment, I +must admit, gave a new significance to Armitage’s words. I waited by the +Blue John Gap for half an hour or more, but there was no return of the +sound, so at last I wandered back to the farmhouse, rather mystified +by what had occurred. Decidedly I shall explore that cavern when my +strength is restored. Of course, Armitage’s explanation is too absurd +for discussion, and yet that sound was certainly very strange. It still +rings in my ears as I write. + +April 20.--In the last three days I have made several expeditions to +the Blue John Gap, and have even penetrated some short distance, but my +bicycle lantern is so small and weak that I dare not trust myself very +far. I shall do the thing more systematically. I have heard no sound +at all, and could almost believe that I had been the victim of some +hallucination, suggested, perhaps, by Armitage’s conversation. Of +course, the whole idea is absurd, and yet I must confess that those +bushes at the entrance of the cave do present an appearance as if some +heavy creature had forced its way through them. I begin to be keenly +interested. I have said nothing to the Miss Allertons, for they are +quite superstitious enough already, but I have bought some candles, and +mean to investigate for myself. + +I observed this morning that among the numerous tufts of sheep’s wool +which lay among the bushes near the cavern there was one which was +smeared with blood. Of course, my reason tells me that if sheep wander +into such rocky places they are likely to injure themselves, and yet +somehow that splash of crimson gave me a sudden shock, and for a moment +I found myself shrinking back in horror from the old Roman arch. A fetid +breath seemed to ooze from the black depths into which I peered. Could +it indeed be possible that some nameless thing, some dreadful presence, +was lurking down yonder? I should have been incapable of such feelings +in the days of my strength, but one grows more nervous and fanciful when +one’s health is shaken. + +For the moment I weakened in my resolution, and was ready to leave the +secret of the old mine, if one exists, for ever unsolved. But tonight my +interest has returned and my nerves grown more steady. Tomorrow I trust +that I shall have gone more deeply into this matter. + +April 22.--Let me try and set down as accurately as I can my +extraordinary experience of yesterday. I started in the afternoon, and +made my way to the Blue John Gap. I confess that my misgivings returned +as I gazed into its depths, and I wished that I had brought a companion +to share my exploration. Finally, with a return of resolution, I lit my +candle, pushed my way through the briars, and descended into the rocky +shaft. + +It went down at an acute angle for some fifty feet, the floor being +covered with broken stone. Thence there extended a long, straight +passage cut in the solid rock. I am no geologist, but the lining of this +corridor was certainly of some harder material than limestone, for there +were points where I could actually see the tool-marks which the old +miners had left in their excavation, as fresh as if they had been done +yesterday. Down this strange, old-world corridor I stumbled, my feeble +flame throwing a dim circle of light around me, which made the shadows +beyond the more threatening and obscure. Finally, I came to a spot where +the Roman tunnel opened into a water-worn cavern--a huge hall, hung with +long white icicles of lime deposit. From this central chamber I could +dimly perceive that a number of passages worn by the subterranean +streams wound away into the depths of the earth. I was standing there +wondering whether I had better return, or whether I dare venture farther +into this dangerous labyrinth, when my eyes fell upon something at my +feet which strongly arrested my attention. + +The greater part of the floor of the cavern was covered with boulders +of rock or with hard incrustations of lime, but at this particular point +there had been a drip from the distant roof, which had left a patch +of soft mud. In the very centre of this there was a huge mark--an +ill-defined blotch, deep, broad and irregular, as if a great boulder had +fallen upon it. No loose stone lay near, however, nor was there anything +to account for the impression. It was far too large to be caused by any +possible animal, and besides, there was only the one, and the patch of +mud was of such a size that no reasonable stride could have covered it. +As I rose from the examination of that singular mark and then looked +round into the black shadows which hemmed me in, I must confess that I +felt for a moment a most unpleasant sinking of my heart, and that, do +what I could, the candle trembled in my outstretched hand. + +I soon recovered my nerve, however, when I reflected how absurd it was +to associate so huge and shapeless a mark with the track of any known +animal. Even an elephant could not have produced it. I determined, +therefore, that I would not be scared by vague and senseless fears from +carrying out my exploration. Before proceeding, I took good note of +a curious rock formation in the wall by which I could recognize the +entrance of the Roman tunnel. The precaution was very necessary, for +the great cave, so far as I could see it, was intersected by passages. +Having made sure of my position, and reassured myself by examining +my spare candles and my matches, I advanced slowly over the rocky and +uneven surface of the cavern. + +And now I come to the point where I met with such sudden and desperate +disaster. A stream, some twenty feet broad, ran across my path, and I +walked for some little distance along the bank to find a spot where I +could cross dry-shod. Finally, I came to a place where a single flat +boulder lay near the centre, which I could reach in a stride. As it +chanced, however, the rock had been cut away and made top-heavy by the +rush of the stream, so that it tilted over as I landed on it and shot +me into the ice-cold water. My candle went out, and I found myself +floundering about in utter and absolute darkness. + +I staggered to my feet again, more amused than alarmed by my adventure. +The candle had fallen from my hand, and was lost in the stream, but I +had two others in my pocket, so that it was of no importance. I got one +of them ready, and drew out my box of matches to light it. Only then +did I realize my position. The box had been soaked in my fall into the +river. It was impossible to strike the matches. + +A cold hand seemed to close round my heart as I realized my position. +The darkness was opaque and horrible. It was so utter that one put one’s +hand up to one’s face as if to press off something solid. I stood still, +and by an effort I steadied myself. I tried to reconstruct in my mind a +map of the floor of the cavern as I had last seen it. Alas! the bearings +which had impressed themselves upon my mind were high on the wall, and +not to be found by touch. Still, I remembered in a general way how the +sides were situated, and I hoped that by groping my way along them I +should at last come to the opening of the Roman tunnel. Moving very +slowly, and continually striking against the rocks, I set out on this +desperate quest. + +But I very soon realized how impossible it was. In that black, velvety +darkness one lost all one’s bearings in an instant. Before I had made a +dozen paces, I was utterly bewildered as to my whereabouts. The rippling +of the stream, which was the one sound audible, showed me where it lay, +but the moment that I left its bank I was utterly lost. The idea +of finding my way back in absolute darkness through that limestone +labyrinth was clearly an impossible one. + +I sat down upon a boulder and reflected upon my unfortunate plight. I +had not told anyone that I proposed to come to the Blue John mine, and +it was unlikely that a search party would come after me. Therefore I +must trust to my own resources to get clear of the danger. There was +only one hope, and that was that the matches might dry. When I fell into +the river, only half of me had got thoroughly wet. My left shoulder had +remained above the water. I took the box of matches, therefore, and put +it into my left armpit. The moist air of the cavern might possibly be +counteracted by the heat of my body, but even so, I knew that I could +not hope to get a light for many hours. Meanwhile there was nothing for +it but to wait. + +By good luck I had slipped several biscuits into my pocket before I +left the farm-house. These I now devoured, and washed them down with +a draught from that wretched stream which had been the cause of all my +misfortunes. Then I felt about for a comfortable seat among the rocks, +and, having discovered a place where I could get a support for my +back, I stretched out my legs and settled myself down to wait. I +was wretchedly damp and cold, but I tried to cheer myself with the +reflection that modern science prescribed open windows and walks in all +weather for my disease. Gradually, lulled by the monotonous gurgle of +the stream, and by the absolute darkness, I sank into an uneasy slumber. + +How long this lasted I cannot say. It may have been for an hour, it may +have been for several. Suddenly I sat up on my rock couch, with every +nerve thrilling and every sense acutely on the alert. Beyond all doubt +I had heard a sound--some sound very distinct from the gurgling of the +waters. It had passed, but the reverberation of it still lingered in my +ear. Was it a search party? They would most certainly have shouted, and +vague as this sound was which had wakened me, it was very distinct from +the human voice. I sat palpitating and hardly daring to breathe. +There it was again! And again! Now it had become continuous. It was a +tread--yes, surely it was the tread of some living creature. But what a +tread it was! It gave one the impression of enormous weight carried upon +sponge-like feet, which gave forth a muffled but ear-filling sound. +The darkness was as complete as ever, but the tread was regular and +decisive. And it was coming beyond all question in my direction. + +My skin grew cold, and my hair stood on end as I listened to that steady +and ponderous footfall. There was some creature there, and surely by the +speed of its advance, it was one which could see in the dark. I crouched +low on my rock and tried to blend myself into it. The steps grew nearer +still, then stopped, and presently I was aware of a loud lapping and +gurgling. The creature was drinking at the stream. Then again there was +silence, broken by a succession of long sniffs and snorts of tremendous +volume and energy. Had it caught the scent of me? My own nostrils were +filled by a low fetid odour, mephitic and abominable. Then I heard the +steps again. They were on my side of the stream now. The stones rattled +within a few yards of where I lay. Hardly daring to breathe, I crouched +upon my rock. Then the steps drew away. I heard the splash as it +returned across the river, and the sound died away into the distance in +the direction from which it had come. + +For a long time I lay upon the rock, too much horrified to move. I +thought of the sound which I had heard coming from the depths of the +cave, of Armitage’s fears, of the strange impression in the mud, and +now came this final and absolute proof that there was indeed some +inconceivable monster, something utterly unearthly and dreadful, which +lurked in the hollow of the mountain. Of its nature or form I could +frame no conception, save that it was both light-footed and gigantic. +The combat between my reason, which told me that such things could not +be, and my senses, which told me that they were, raged within me as I +lay. Finally, I was almost ready to persuade myself that this experience +had been part of some evil dream, and that my abnormal condition +might have conjured up an hallucination. But there remained one final +experience which removed the last possibility of doubt from my mind. + +I had taken my matches from my armpit and felt them. They seemed +perfectly hard and dry. Stooping down into a crevice of the rocks, I +tried one of them. To my delight it took fire at once. I lit the candle, +and, with a terrified backward glance into the obscure depths of the +cavern, I hurried in the direction of the Roman passage. As I did so +I passed the patch of mud on which I had seen the huge imprint. Now I +stood astonished before it, for there were three similar imprints upon +its surface, enormous in size, irregular in outline, of a depth which +indicated the ponderous weight which had left them. Then a great terror +surged over me. Stooping and shading my candle with my hand, I ran in a +frenzy of fear to the rocky archway, hastened up it, and never stopped +until, with weary feet and panting lungs, I rushed up the final slope of +stones, broke through the tangle of briars, and flung myself exhausted +upon the soft grass under the peaceful light of the stars. It was +three in the morning when I reached the farm-house, and today I am all +unstrung and quivering after my terrific adventure. As yet I have told +no one. I must move warily in the matter. What would the poor lonely +women, or the uneducated yokels here think of it if I were to tell them +my experience? Let me go to someone who can understand and advise. + +April 25.--I was laid up in bed for two days after my incredible +adventure in the cavern. I use the adjective with a very definite +meaning, for I have had an experience since which has shocked me almost +as much as the other. I have said that I was looking round for someone +who could advise me. There is a Dr. Mark Johnson who practices some +few miles away, to whom I had a note of recommendation from Professor +Saunderson. To him I drove, when I was strong enough to get about, and I +recounted to him my whole strange experience. He listened intently, and +then carefully examined me, paying special attention to my reflexes and +to the pupils of my eyes. When he had finished, he refused to discuss +my adventure, saying that it was entirely beyond him, but he gave me +the card of a Mr. Picton at Castleton, with the advice that I should +instantly go to him and tell him the story exactly as I had done +to himself. He was, according to my adviser, the very man who was +pre-eminently suited to help me. I went on to the station, therefore, +and made my way to the little town, which is some ten miles away. +Mr. Picton appeared to be a man of importance, as his brass plate was +displayed upon the door of a considerable building on the outskirts of +the town. I was about to ring his bell, when some misgiving came into my +mind, and, crossing to a neighbouring shop, I asked the man behind the +counter if he could tell me anything of Mr. Picton. “Why,” said he, “he +is the best mad doctor in Derbyshire, and yonder is his asylum.” You can +imagine that it was not long before I had shaken the dust of Castleton +from my feet and returned to the farm, cursing all unimaginative pedants +who cannot conceive that there may be things in creation which have +never yet chanced to come across their mole’s vision. After all, +now that I am cooler, I can afford to admit that I have been no more +sympathetic to Armitage than Dr. Johnson has been to me. + +April 27. When I was a student I had the reputation of being a man of +courage and enterprise. I remember that when there was a ghost-hunt at +Coltbridge it was I who sat up in the haunted house. Is it advancing +years (after all, I am only thirty-five), or is it this physical malady +which has caused degeneration? Certainly my heart quails when I think +of that horrible cavern in the hill, and the certainty that it has some +monstrous occupant. What shall I do? There is not an hour in the day +that I do not debate the question. If I say nothing, then the mystery +remains unsolved. If I do say anything, then I have the alternative of +mad alarm over the whole countryside, or of absolute incredulity which +may end in consigning me to an asylum. On the whole, I think that my +best course is to wait, and to prepare for some expedition which shall +be more deliberate and better thought out than the last. As a first +step I have been to Castleton and obtained a few essentials--a large +acetylene lantern for one thing, and a good double-barrelled sporting +rifle for another. The latter I have hired, but I have bought a dozen +heavy game cartridges, which would bring down a rhinoceros. Now I am +ready for my troglodyte friend. Give me better health and a little spate +of energy, and I shall try conclusions with him yet. But who and what is +he? Ah! there is the question which stands between me and my sleep. +How many theories do I form, only to discard each in turn! It is all +so utterly unthinkable. And yet the cry, the footmark, the tread in +the cavern--no reasoning can get past these. I think of the old-world +legends of dragons and of other monsters. Were they, perhaps, not such +fairy-tales as we have thought? Can it be that there is some fact which +underlies them, and am I, of all mortals, the one who is chosen to +expose it? + +May 3.--For several days I have been laid up by the vagaries of an +English spring, and during those days there have been developments, the +true and sinister meaning of which no one can appreciate save myself. +I may say that we have had cloudy and moonless nights of late, +which according to my information were the seasons upon which sheep +disappeared. Well, sheep _have_ disappeared. Two of Miss Allerton’s, one +of old Pearson’s of the Cat Walk, and one of Mrs. Moulton’s. Four in +all during three nights. No trace is left of them at all, and the +countryside is buzzing with rumours of gipsies and of sheep-stealers. + +But there is something more serious than that. Young Armitage has +disappeared also. He left his moorland cottage early on Wednesday night +and has never been heard of since. He was an unattached man, so there is +less sensation than would otherwise be the case. The popular explanation +is that he owes money, and has found a situation in some other part of +the country, whence he will presently write for his belongings. But +I have grave misgivings. Is it not much more likely that the recent +tragedy of the sheep has caused him to take some steps which may have +ended in his own destruction? He may, for example, have lain in wait +for the creature and been carried off by it into the recesses of the +mountains. What an inconceivable fate for a civilized Englishman of the +twentieth century! And yet I feel that it is possible and even probable. +But in that case, how far am I answerable both for his death and for +any other mishap which may occur? Surely with the knowledge I already +possess it must be my duty to see that something is done, or if +necessary to do it myself. It must be the latter, for this morning I +went down to the local police-station and told my story. The inspector +entered it all in a large book and bowed me out with commendable +gravity, but I heard a burst of laughter before I had got down his +garden path. No doubt he was recounting my adventure to his family. + +June 10.--I am writing this, propped up in bed, six weeks after my last +entry in this journal. I have gone through a terrible shock both to mind +and body, arising from such an experience as has seldom befallen a human +being before. But I have attained my end. The danger from the Terror +which dwells in the Blue John Gap has passed never to return. Thus much +at least I, a broken invalid, have done for the common good. Let me now +recount what occurred as clearly as I may. + +The night of Friday, May 3rd, was dark and cloudy--the very night for +the monster to walk. About eleven o’clock I went from the farm-house +with my lantern and my rifle, having first left a note upon the table +of my bedroom in which I said that, if I were missing, search should be +made for me in the direction of the Gap. I made my way to the mouth of +the Roman shaft, and, having perched myself among the rocks close to the +opening, I shut off my lantern and waited patiently with my loaded rifle +ready to my hand. + +It was a melancholy vigil. All down the winding valley I could see +the scattered lights of the farm-houses, and the church clock of +Chapel-le-Dale tolling the hours came faintly to my ears. These tokens +of my fellow-men served only to make my own position seem the more +lonely, and to call for a greater effort to overcome the terror which +tempted me continually to get back to the farm, and abandon for ever +this dangerous quest. And yet there lies deep in every man a rooted +self-respect which makes it hard for him to turn back from that which +he has once undertaken. This feeling of personal pride was my salvation +now, and it was that alone which held me fast when every instinct of my +nature was dragging me away. I am glad now that I had the strength. In +spite of all that is has cost me, my manhood is at least above reproach. + +Twelve o’clock struck in the distant church, then one, then two. It was +the darkest hour of the night. The clouds were drifting low, and there +was not a star in the sky. An owl was hooting somewhere among the rocks, +but no other sound, save the gentle sough of the wind, came to my ears. +And then suddenly I heard it! From far away down the tunnel came those +muffled steps, so soft and yet so ponderous. I heard also the rattle of +stones as they gave way under that giant tread. They drew nearer. +They were close upon me. I heard the crashing of the bushes round the +entrance, and then dimly through the darkness I was conscious of the +loom of some enormous shape, some monstrous inchoate creature, passing +swiftly and very silently out from the tunnel. I was paralysed with fear +and amazement. Long as I had waited, now that it had actually come I was +unprepared for the shock. I lay motionless and breathless, whilst the +great dark mass whisked by me and was swallowed up in the night. + +But now I nerved myself for its return. No sound came from the sleeping +countryside to tell of the horror which was loose. In no way could I +judge how far off it was, what it was doing, or when it might be back. +But not a second time should my nerve fail me, not a second time should +it pass unchallenged. I swore it between my clenched teeth as I laid my +cocked rifle across the rock. + +And yet it nearly happened. There was no warning of approach now as the +creature passed over the grass. Suddenly, like a dark, drifting shadow, +the huge bulk loomed up once more before me, making for the entrance of +the cave. Again came that paralysis of volition which held my crooked +forefinger impotent upon the trigger. But with a desperate effort I +shook it off. Even as the brushwood rustled, and the monstrous beast +blended with the shadow of the Gap, I fired at the retreating form. +In the blaze of the gun I caught a glimpse of a great shaggy mass, +something with rough and bristling hair of a withered grey colour, +fading away to white in its lower parts, the huge body supported upon +short, thick, curving legs. I had just that glance, and then I heard the +rattle of the stones as the creature tore down into its burrow. In an +instant, with a triumphant revulsion of feeling, I had cast my fears to +the wind, and uncovering my powerful lantern, with my rifle in my hand, +I sprang down from my rock and rushed after the monster down the old +Roman shaft. + +My splendid lamp cast a brilliant flood of vivid light in front of me, +very different from the yellow glimmer which had aided me down the +same passage only twelve days before. As I ran, I saw the great beast +lurching along before me, its huge bulk filling up the whole space from +wall to wall. Its hair looked like coarse faded oakum, and hung down +in long, dense masses which swayed as it moved. It was like an enormous +unclipped sheep in its fleece, but in size it was far larger than the +largest elephant, and its breadth seemed to be nearly as great as its +height. It fills me with amazement now to think that I should have dared +to follow such a horror into the bowels of the earth, but when one’s +blood is up, and when one’s quarry seems to be flying, the old primeval +hunting-spirit awakes and prudence is cast to the wind. Rifle in hand, I +ran at the top of my speed upon the trail of the monster. + +I had seen that the creature was swift. Now I was to find out to my +cost that it was also very cunning. I had imagined that it was in panic +flight, and that I had only to pursue it. The idea that it might turn +upon me never entered my excited brain. I have already explained that +the passage down which I was racing opened into a great central cave. +Into this I rushed, fearful lest I should lose all trace of the beast. +But he had turned upon his own traces, and in a moment we were face to +face. + +That picture, seen in the brilliant white light of the lantern, is +etched for ever upon my brain. He had reared up on his hind legs as a +bear would do, and stood above me, enormous, menacing--such a creature +as no nightmare had ever brought to my imagination. I have said that +he reared like a bear, and there was something bear-like--if one could +conceive a bear which was ten-fold the bulk of any bear seen upon +earth--in his whole pose and attitude, in his great crooked forelegs +with their ivory-white claws, in his rugged skin, and in his red, gaping +mouth, fringed with monstrous fangs. Only in one point did he differ +from the bear, or from any other creature which walks the earth, and +even at that supreme moment a shudder of horror passed over me as I +observed that the eyes which glistened in the glow of my lantern were +huge, projecting bulbs, white and sightless. For a moment his great paws +swung over my head. The next he fell forward upon me, I and my broken +lantern crashed to the earth, and I remember no more. + + +When I came to myself I was back in the farm-house of the Allertons. +Two days had passed since my terrible adventure in the Blue John Gap. It +seems that I had lain all night in the cave insensible from concussion +of the brain, with my left arm and two ribs badly fractured. In the +morning my note had been found, a search party of a dozen farmers +assembled, and I had been tracked down and carried back to my bedroom, +where I had lain in high delirium ever since. There was, it seems, no +sign of the creature, and no bloodstain which would show that my bullet +had found him as he passed. Save for my own plight and the marks upon +the mud, there was nothing to prove that what I said was true. + +Six weeks have now elapsed, and I am able to sit out once more in the +sunshine. Just opposite me is the steep hillside, grey with shaly rock, +and yonder on its flank is the dark cleft which marks the opening of +the Blue John Gap. But it is no longer a source of terror. Never again +through that ill-omened tunnel shall any strange shape flit out into the +world of men. The educated and the scientific, the Dr. Johnsons and the +like, may smile at my narrative, but the poorer folk of the countryside +had never a doubt as to its truth. On the day after my recovering +consciousness they assembled in their hundreds round the Blue John Gap. +As the _Castleton Courier_ said: + + +“It was useless for our correspondent, or for any of the adventurous +gentlemen who had come from Matlock, Buxton, and other parts, to offer +to descend, to explore the cave to the end, and to finally test the +extraordinary narrative of Dr. James Hardcastle. The country people had +taken the matter into their own hands, and from an early hour of the +morning they had worked hard in stopping up the entrance of the tunnel. +There is a sharp slope where the shaft begins, and great boulders, +rolled along by many willing hands, were thrust down it until the +Gap was absolutely sealed. So ends the episode which has caused such +excitement throughout the country. Local opinion is fiercely +divided upon the subject. On the one hand are those who point to Dr. +Hardcastle’s impaired health, and to the possibility of cerebral lesions +of tubercular origin giving rise to strange hallucinations. Some _idee +fixe_, according to these gentlemen, caused the doctor to wander down +the tunnel, and a fall among the rocks was sufficient to account for his +injuries. On the other hand, a legend of a strange creature in the +Gap has existed for some months back, and the farmers look upon +Dr. Hardcastle’s narrative and his personal injuries as a final +corroboration. So the matter stands, and so the matter will continue +to stand, for no definite solution seems to us to be now possible. It +transcends human wit to give any scientific explanation which could +cover the alleged facts.” + + +Perhaps before the _Courier_ published these words they would have been +wise to send their representative to me. I have thought the matter out, +as no one else has occasion to do, and it is possible that I might +have removed some of the more obvious difficulties of the narrative and +brought it one degree nearer to scientific acceptance. Let me then write +down the only explanation which seems to me to elucidate what I know to +my cost to have been a series of facts. My theory may seem to be +wildly improbable, but at least no one can venture to say that it is +impossible. + +My view is--and it was formed, as is shown by my diary, before my +personal adventure--that in this part of England there is a vast +subterranean lake or sea, which is fed by the great number of streams +which pass down through the limestone. Where there is a large collection +of water there must also be some evaporation, mists or rain, and a +possibility of vegetation. This in turn suggests that there may be +animal life, arising, as the vegetable life would also do, from those +seeds and types which had been introduced at an early period of the +world’s history, when communication with the outer air was more easy. +This place had then developed a fauna and flora of its own, including +such monsters as the one which I had seen, which may well have been the +old cave-bear, enormously enlarged and modified by its new environment. +For countless aeons the internal and the external creation had kept +apart, growing steadily away from each other. Then there had come some +rift in the depths of the mountain which had enabled one creature to +wander up and, by means of the Roman tunnel, to reach the open air. Like +all subterranean life, it had lost the power of sight, but this had no +doubt been compensated for by nature in other directions. Certainly it +had some means of finding its way about, and of hunting down the sheep +upon the hillside. As to its choice of dark nights, it is part of my +theory that light was painful to those great white eyeballs, and that it +was only a pitch-black world which it could tolerate. Perhaps, indeed, +it was the glare of my lantern which saved my life at that awful moment +when we were face to face. So I read the riddle. I leave these facts +behind me, and if you can explain them, do so; or if you choose to doubt +them, do so. Neither your belief nor your incredulity can alter them, +nor affect one whose task is nearly over. + + +So ended the strange narrative of Dr. James Hardcastle. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Galley, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST GALLEY *** + +***** This file should be named 8727-0.txt or 8727-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/7/2/8727/ + +Produced by Lionel G. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Last Galley + Impressions and Tales + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: March 11, 2009 [EBook #8727] +Last Updated: September 30, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST GALLEY *** + + + + +Produced by Lionel G. Sear, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE LAST GALLEY + </h1> + <h2> + IMPRESSIONS AND TALES + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Arthur Conan Doyle + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + PREFACE + </h2> + <p> + I have written “Impressions and Tales” upon the title-page of this volume, + because I have included within the same cover two styles of work which + present an essential difference. + </p> + <p> + The second half of the collection consists of eight stories, which explain + themselves. + </p> + <p> + The first half is made up of a series of pictures of the past which maybe + regarded as trial flights towards a larger ideal which I have long had in + my mind. It has seemed to me that there is a region between actual story + and actual history which has never been adequately exploited. I could + imagine, for example, a work dealing with some great historical epoch, and + finding its interest not in the happenings to particular individuals, + their adventures and their loves, but in the fascination of the actual + facts of history themselves. These facts might be coloured with the + glamour which the writer of fiction can give, and fictitious characters + and conversations might illustrate them; but none the less the actual + drama of history and not the drama of invention should claim the attention + of the reader. I have been tempted sometimes to try the effect upon a + larger scale; but meanwhile these short sketches, portraying various + crises in the story of the human race, are to be judged as experiments in + that direction. + </p> + <p> + ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. + </p> + <p> + WINDLESHAM, CROWBOROUGH, April, 1911. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> <b>PART I.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> THE LAST GALLEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE CONTEST. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THROUGH THE VEIL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> AN ICONOCLAST. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> <b>GIANT MAXIMIN.</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> I THE COMING OF MAXIMIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> II THE RISE OF GIANT MAXIMIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> III THE FALL OF MAXIMIN </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE COMING OF THE HUNS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> THE FIRST CARGO </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> THE HOME-COMING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE RED STAR </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> <b>PART II. </b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART2"> THE SILVER MIRROR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> OUT OF THE RUNNING </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> “DE PROFUNDIS” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + PART I. + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE LAST GALLEY + </h2> + <p> + “Mutato nomine, de te, Britannia, fabula narratur.” + </p> + <p> + It was a spring morning, one hundred and forty-six years before the coming + of Christ. The North African Coast, with its broad hem of golden sand, its + green belt of feathery palm trees, and its background of barren, + red-scarped hills, shimmered like a dream country in the opal light. Save + for a narrow edge of snow-white surf, the Mediterranean lay blue and + serene as far as the eye could reach. In all its vast expanse there was no + break but for a single galley, which was slowly making its way from the + direction of Sicily and heading for the distant harbour of Carthage. + </p> + <p> + Seen from afar it was a stately and beautiful vessel, deep red in colour, + double-banked with scarlet oars, its broad, flapping sail stained with + Tyrian purple, its bulwarks gleaming with brass work. A brazen, + three-pronged ram projected in front, and a high golden figure of Baal, + the God of the Phoenicians, children of Canaan, shone upon the after deck. + From the single high mast above the huge sail streamed the tiger-striped + flag of Carthage. So, like some stately scarlet bird, with golden beak and + wings of purple, she swam upon the face of the waters—a thing of + might and of beauty as seen from the distant shore. + </p> + <p> + But approach and look at her now! What are these dark streaks which foul + her white decks and dapple her brazen shields? Why do the long red oars + move out of time, irregular, convulsive? Why are some missing from the + staring portholes, some snapped with jagged, yellow edges, some trailing + inert against the side? Why are two prongs of the brazen ram twisted and + broken? See, even the high image of Baal is battered and disfigured! By + every sign this ship has passed through some grievous trial, some day of + terror, which has left its heavy marks upon her. + </p> + <p> + And now stand upon the deck itself, and see more closely the men who man + her! There are two decks forward and aft, while in the open waist are the + double banks of seats, above and below, where the rowers, two to an oar, + tug and bend at their endless task. Down the centre is a narrow platform, + along which pace a line of warders, lash in hand, who cut cruelly at the + slave who pauses, be it only for an instant, to sweep the sweat from his + dripping brow. But these slaves—look at them! Some are captured + Romans, some Sicilians, many black Libyans, but all are in the last + exhaustion, their weary eyelids drooped over their eyes, their lips thick + with black crusts, and pink with bloody froth, their arms and backs moving + mechanically to the hoarse chant of the overseer. Their bodies of all + tints from ivory to jet, are stripped to the waist, and every glistening + back shows the angry stripes of the warders. But it is not from these that + the blood comes which reddens the seats and tints the salt water washing + beneath their manacled feet. Great gaping wounds, the marks of sword slash + and spear stab, show crimson upon their naked chests and shoulders, while + many lie huddled and senseless athwart the benches, careless for ever of + the whips which still hiss above them. Now we can understand those empty + portholes and those trailing oars. + </p> + <p> + Nor were the crew in better case than their slaves. The decks were + littered with wounded and dying men. It was but a remnant who still + remained upon their feet. The most lay exhausted upon the fore-deck, while + a few of the more zealous were mending their shattered armour, restringing + their bows, or cleaning the deck from the marks of combat. Upon a raised + platform at the base of the mast stood the sailing-master who conned the + ship, his eyes fixed upon the distant point of Megara which screened the + eastern side of the Bay of Carthage. On the after-deck were gathered a + number of officers, silent and brooding, glancing from time to time at two + of their own class who stood apart deep in conversation. The one, tall, + dark, and wiry, with pure, Semitic features, and the limbs of a giant, was + Magro, the famous Carthaginian captain, whose name was still a terror on + every shore, from Gaul to the Euxine. The other, a white-bearded, swarthy + man, with indomitable courage and energy stamped upon every eager line of + his keen, aquiline face, was Gisco the politician, a man of the highest + Punic blood, a Suffete of the purple robe, and the leader of that party in + the State which had watched and striven amid the selfishness and + slothfulness of his fellow-countrymen to rouse the public spirit and waken + the public conscience to the ever-increasing danger from Rome. As they + talked, the two men glanced continually, with earnest anxious faces, + towards the northern skyline. + </p> + <p> + “It is certain,” said the older man, with gloom in his voice and bearing, + “none have escaped save ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not leave the press of the battle whilst I saw one ship which I + could succour,” Magro answered. “As it was, we came away, as you saw, like + a wolf which has a hound hanging on to either haunch. The Roman dogs can + show the wolf-bites which prove it. Had any other galley won clear, they + would surely be with us by now, since they have no place of safety save + Carthage.” + </p> + <p> + The younger warrior glanced keenly ahead to the distant point which marked + his native city. Already the low, leafy hill could be seen, dotted with + the white villas of the wealthy Phoenician merchants. Above them, a + gleaming dot against the pale blue morning sky, shone the brazen roof of + the citadel of Byrsa, which capped the sloping town. + </p> + <p> + “Already they can see us from the watch-towers,” he remarked. “Even from + afar they may know the galley of Black Magro. But which of all of them + will guess that we alone remain of all that goodly fleet which sailed out + with blare of trumpet and roll of drum but one short month ago?” + </p> + <p> + The patrician smiled bitterly. “If it were not for our great ancestors and + for our beloved country, the Queen of the Waters,” said he, “I could find + it in my heart to be glad at this destruction which has come upon this + vain and feeble generation. You have spent your life upon the seas, Magro. + You do not know of know how it has been with us on the land. But I have + seen this canker grow upon us which now leads us to our death. I and + others have gone down into the market-place to plead with the people, and + been pelted with mud for our pains. Many a time have I pointed to Rome, + and said, ‘Behold these people, who bear arms themselves, each man for his + own duty and pride. How can you who hide behind mercenaries hope to stand + against them?’—a hundred times I have said it.” + </p> + <p> + “And had they no answer?” asked the Rover. + </p> + <p> + “Rome was far off and they could not see it, so to them it was nothing,” + the old man answered. “Some thought of trade, and some of votes, and some + of profits from the State, but none would see that the State itself, the + mother of all things, was sinking to her end. So might the bees debate who + should have wax or honey when the torch was blazing which would bring to + ashes the hive and all therein. ‘Are we not rulers of the sea?’ ‘Was not + Hannibal a great man?’ Such were their cries, living ever in the past and + blind to the future. Before that sun sets there will be tearing of hair + and rending of garments; what will that now avail us?” + </p> + <p> + “It is some sad comfort,” said Magro, “to know that what Rome holds she + cannot keep.” + </p> + <p> + “Why say you that? When we go down, she is supreme in all the world.” + </p> + <p> + “For a time, and only for a time,” Magro answered, gravely. “Yet you will + smile, perchance, when I tell you how it is that I know it. There was a + wise woman who lived in that part of the Tin Islands which juts forth into + the sea, and from her lips I have heard many things, but not one which has + not come aright. Of the fall of our own country, and even of this battle, + from which we now return, she told me clearly. There is much strange lore + amongst these savage peoples in the west of the land of Tin.” + </p> + <p> + “What said she of Rome?” + </p> + <p> + “That she also would fall, even as we, weakened by her riches and her + factions.” + </p> + <p> + Gisco rubbed his hands. “That at least makes our own fall less bitter,” + said he. “But since we have fallen, and Rome will fall, who in turn may + hope to be Queen of the Waters?” + </p> + <p> + “That also I asked her,” said Magro, “and gave her my Tyrian belt with the + golden buckle as a guerdon for her answer. But, indeed, it was too high + payment for the tale she told, which must be false if all else she said + was true. She would have it that in coining days it was her own land, this + fog-girt isle where painted savages can scarce row a wicker coracle from + point to point, which shall at last take the trident which Carthage and + Rome have dropped.” + </p> + <p> + The smile which flickered upon the old patrician’s keen features died away + suddenly, and his fingers closed upon his companion’s wrist. The other had + set rigid, his head advanced, his hawk eyes upon the northern skyline. Its + straight, blue horizon was broken by two low black dots. + </p> + <p> + “Galleys!” whispered Gisco. + </p> + <p> + The whole crew had seen them. They clustered along the starboard bulwarks, + pointing and chattering. For a moment the gloom of defeat was lifted, and + a buzz of joy ran from group to group at the thought that they were not + alone—that some one had escaped the great carnage as well as + themselves. + </p> + <p> + “By the spirit of Baal,” said Black Magro, “I could not have believed that + any could have fought clear from such a welter. Could it be young Hamilcar + in the <i>Africa</i>, or is it Beneva in the blue Syrian ship? We three + with others may form a squadron and make head against them yet. If we hold + our course, they will join us ere we round the harbour mole.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly the injured galley toiled on her way, and more swiftly the two + newcomers swept down from the north. Only a few miles off lay the green + point and the white houses which flanked the great African city. Already, + upon the headland, could be seen a dark group of waiting townsmen. Gisco + and Magro were still watching with puckered gaze the approaching galleys, + when the brown Libyan boatswain, with flashing teeth and gleaming eyes, + rushed upon the poop, his long thin arm stabbing to the north. + </p> + <p> + “Romans!” he cried. “Romans!” + </p> + <p> + A hush had fallen over the great vessel. Only the wash of the water and + the measured rattle and beat of the oars broke in upon the silence. + </p> + <p> + “By the horns of God’s altar, I believe the fellow is right!” cried old + Gisco. “See how they swoop upon us like falcons. They are full-manned and + full-oared.” + </p> + <p> + “Plain wood, unpainted,” said Magro. “See how it gleams yellow where the + sun strikes it.” + </p> + <p> + “And yonder thing beneath the mast. Is it not the cursed bridge they use + for boarding?” + </p> + <p> + “So they grudge us even one,” said Magro with a bitter laugh. “Not even + one galley shall return to the old sea-mother. Well, for my part, I would + as soon have it so. I am of a mind to stop the oars and await them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a man’s thought,” answered old Gisco; “but the city will need us in + the days to come. What shall it profit us to make the Roman victory + complete? Nay, Magro, let the slaves row as they never rowed before, not + for our own safety, but for the profit of the State.” + </p> + <p> + So the great red ship laboured and lurched onwards, like a weary panting + stag which seeks shelter from his pursuers, while ever swifter and ever + nearer sped the two lean fierce galleys from the north. Already the + morning sun shone upon the lines of low Roman helmets above the bulwarks, + and glistened on the silver wave where each sharp prow shot through the + still blue water. Every moment the ships drew nearer, and the long thin + scream of the Roman trumpets grew louder upon the ear. + </p> + <p> + Upon the high bluff of Megara there stood a great concourse of the people + of Carthage who had hurried forth from the city upon the news that the + galleys were in sight. They stood now, rich and poor, effete and plebeian, + white Phoenician and dark Kabyle, gazing with breathless interest at the + spectacle before them. Some hundreds of feet beneath them the Punic galley + had drawn so close that with their naked eyes they could see those stains + of battle which told their dismal tale. The Romans, too, were heading in + such a way that it was before their very faces that their ship was about + to be cut off; and yet of all this multitude not one could raise a hand in + its defence. Some wept in impotent grief, some cursed with flashing eyes + and knotted fists, some on their knees held up appealing hands to Baal; + but neither prayer, tears, nor curses could undo the past nor mend the + present. That broken, crawling galley meant that their fleet was gone. + Those two fierce darting ships meant that the hands of Rome were already + at their throat. Behind them would come others and others, the innumerable + trained hosts of the great Republic, long mistress of the land, now + dominant also upon the waters. In a month, two months, three at the most, + their armies would be there, and what could all the untrained multitudes + of Carthage do to stop them? + </p> + <p> + “Nay!” cried one, more hopeful than the rest, “at least we are brave men + with arms in our hands.” + </p> + <p> + “Fool!” said another, “is it not such talk which has brought us to our + ruin? What is the brave man untrained to the brave man trained? When you + stand before the sweep and rush of a Roman legion you may learn the + difference.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let us train!” + </p> + <p> + “Too late! A full year is needful to turn a man to a soldier. Where will + you—where will your city be within the year? Nay, there is but one + chance for us. If we give up our commerce and our colonies, if we strip + ourselves of all that made us great, then perchance the Roman conqueror + may hold his hand.” + </p> + <p> + And already the last sea-fight of Carthage was coming swiftly to an end + before them. Under their very eyes the two Roman galleys had shot in, one + on either side of the vessel of Black Magro. They had grappled with him, + and he, desperate in his despair, had cast the crooked flukes of his + anchors over their gunwales, and bound them to him in an iron grip, whilst + with hammer and crowbar he burst great holes in his own sheathing. The + last Punic galley should never be rowed into Ostia, a sight for the + holiday-makers of Rome. She would lie in her own waters. And the fierce, + dark soul of her rover captain glowed as he thought that not alone should + she sink into the depths of the mother sea. + </p> + <p> + Too late did the Romans understand the man with whom they had to deal. + Their boarders who had flooded the Punic decks felt the planking sink and + sway beneath them. They rushed to gain their own vessels; but they, too, + were being drawn downwards, held in the dying grip of the great red + galley. Over they went and ever over. Now the deck of Magro’s ship is + flush with the water, and the Romans, drawn towards it by the iron bonds + which held them, are tilted downwards, one bulwark upon the waves, one + reared high in the air. Madly they strain to cast off the death grip of + the galley. She is under the surface now, and ever swifter, with the + greater weight, the Roman ships heel after her. There is a rending crash. + The wooden side is torn out of one, and mutilated, dismembered, she rights + herself, and lies a helpless thing upon the water. But a last yellow gleam + in the blue water shows where her consort has been dragged to her end in + the iron death-grapple of her foemen. The tiger-striped flag of Carthage + has sunk beneath the swirling surface, never more to be seen upon the face + of the sea. + </p> + <p> + For in that year a great cloud hung for seventeen days over the African + coast, a deep black cloud which was the dark shroud of the burning city. + And when the seventeen days were over, Roman ploughs were driven from end + to end of the charred ashes, and salt was scattered there as a sign that + Carthage should be no more. And far off a huddle of naked, starving folk + stood upon the distant mountains, and looked down upon the desolate plain + which had once been the fairest and richest upon earth. And they + understood too late that it is the law of heaven that the world is given + to the hardy and to the self-denying, whilst he who would escape the + duties of manhood will soon be stripped of the pride, the wealth, and the + power, which are the prizes which manhood brings. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CONTEST. + </h2> + <p> + In the year of our Lord 66, the Emperor Nero, being at that time in the + twenty-ninth year of his life and the thirteenth of his reign, set sail + for Greece with the strangest company and the most singular design that + any monarch has ever entertained. With ten galleys he went forth from + Puteoli, carrying with him great stores of painted scenery and theatrical + properties, together with a number of knights and senators, whom he feared + to leave behind him at Rome, and who were all marked for death in the + course of his wanderings. In his train he took Natus, his singing coach; + Cluvius, a man with a monstrous voice, who should bawl out his titles; and + a thousand trained youths who had learned to applaud in unison whenever + their master sang or played in public. So deftly had they been taught that + each had his own role to play. Some did no more than give forth a low deep + hum of speechless appreciation. Some clapped with enthusiasm. Some, rising + from approbation into absolute frenzy, shrieked, stamped, and beat sticks + upon the benches. Some—and they were the most effective—had + learned from an Alexandrian a long droning musical note which they all + uttered together, so that it boomed over the assembly. With the aid of + these mercenary admirers, Nero had every hope, in spite of his indifferent + voice and clumsy execution, to return to Rome, bearing with him the + chaplets for song offered for free competition by the Greek cities. As his + great gilded galley with two tiers of oars passed down the Mediterranean, + the Emperor sat in his cabin all day, his teacher by his side, rehearsing + from morning to night those compositions which he had selected, whilst + every few hours a Nubian slave massaged the Imperial throat with oil and + balsam, that it might be ready for the great ordeal which lay before it in + the land of poetry and song. His food, his drink, and his exercise were + prescribed for him as for an athlete who trains for a contest, and the + twanging of his lyre, with the strident notes of his voice, resounded + continually from the Imperial quarters. + </p> + <p> + Now it chanced that there lived in those days a Grecian goatherd named + Policles, who tended and partly owned a great flock which grazed upon the + long flanks of the hills near Heroea, which is five miles north of the + river Alpheus, and no great distance from the famous Olympia. This person + was noted all over the countryside as a man of strange gifts and singular + character. He was a poet who had twice been crowned for his verses, and he + was a musician to whom the use and sound of an instrument were so natural + that one would more easily meet him without his staff than his harp. Even + in his lonely vigils on the winter hills he would bear it always slung + over his shoulder, and would pass the long hours by its aid, so that it + had come to be part of his very self. He was beautiful also, swarthy and + eager, with a head like Adonis, and in strength there was no one who could + compete with him. But all was ruined by his disposition, which was so + masterful that he would brook no opposition nor contradiction. For this + reason he was continually at enmity with all his neighbours, and in his + fits of temper he would spend months at a time in his stone hut among the + mountains, hearing nothing from the world, and living only for his music + and his goats. + </p> + <p> + One spring morning, in the year of 67, Policles, with the aid of his boy + Dorus, had driven his goats over to a new pasturage which overlooked from + afar the town of Olympia. Gazing down upon it from the mountain, the + shepherd was surprised to see that a portion of the famous amphitheatre + had been roofed in, as though some performance was being enacted. Living + far from the world and from all news, Policles could not imagine what was + afoot, for he was well aware that the Grecian games were not due for two + years to come. Surely some poetic or musical contest must be proceeding of + which he had heard nothing. If so, there would perhaps be some chance of + his gaining the votes of the judges; and in any case he loved to hear the + compositions and admire the execution of the great minstrels who assembled + on such an occasion. Calling to Dorus, therefore, he left the goats to his + charge, and strode swiftly away, his harp upon his back, to see what was + going forward in the town. + </p> + <p> + When Policles came into the suburbs, he found them deserted; but he was + still more surprised when he reached the main street to see no single + human being in the place. He hastened his steps, therefore, and as he + approached the theatre he was conscious of a low sustained hum which + announced the concourse of a huge assembly. Never in all his dreams had he + imagined any musical competition upon so vast a scale as this. There were + some soldiers clustering outside the door; but Policles pushed his way + swiftly through them, and found himself upon the outskirts of the + multitude who filled the great space formed by roofing over a portion of + the national stadium. Looking around him, Policles saw a great number of + his neighbours, whom he knew by sight, tightly packed upon the benches, + all with their eyes fixed upon the stage. He also observed that there were + soldiers round the walls, and that a considerable part of the hall was + filled by a body of youths of foreign aspect, with white gowns and long + hair. All this he perceived; but what it meant he could not imagine. He + bent over to a neighbour to ask him, but a soldier prodded him at once + with the butt end of his spear, and commanded him fiercely to hold his + peace. The man whom he had addressed, thinking that Policles had demanded + a seat, pressed closer to his neighbour, and so the shepherd found himself + sitting at the end of the bench which was nearest to the door. Thence he + concentrated himself upon the stage, on which Metas, a well-known minstrel + from Corinth and an old friend of Policles, was singing and playing + without much encouragement from the audience. To Policles it seemed that + Metas was having less than his due, so he applauded loudly, but he was + surprised to observe that the soldiers frowned at him, and that all his + neighbours regarded him with some surprise. Being a man of strong and + obstinate character, he was the more inclined to persevere in his clapping + when he perceived that the general sentiment was against him. + </p> + <p> + But what followed filled the shepherd poet with absolute amazement. When + Metas of Corinth had made his bow and withdrawn to half-hearted and + perfunctory applause, there appeared upon the stage, amid the wildest + enthusiasm upon the part of the audience, a most extraordinary figure. He + was a short fat man, neither old nor young, with a bull neck and a round, + heavy face, which hung in creases in front like the dewlap of an ox. He + was absurdly clad in a short blue tunic, braced at the waist with a golden + belt. His neck and part of his chest were exposed, and his short, fat legs + were bare from the buskins below to the middle of his thighs, which was as + far as his tunic extended. In his hair were two golden wings, and the same + upon his heels, after the fashion of the god Mercury. Behind him walked a + negro bearing a harp, and beside him a richly dressed officer who bore + rolls of music. This strange creature took the harp from the hands of the + attendant, and advanced to the front of the stage, whence he bowed and + smiled to the cheering audience. “This is some foppish singer from + Athens,” thought Policles to himself, but at the same time he understood + that only a great master of song could receive such a reception from a + Greek audience. This was evidently some wonderful performer whose + reputation had preceded him. Policles settled down, therefore, and + prepared to give his soul up to the music. + </p> + <p> + The blue-clad player struck several chords upon his lyre, and then burst + suddenly out into the “Ode of Niobe.” Policles sat straight up on his + bench and gazed at the stage in amazement. The tune demanded a rapid + transition from a low note to a high, and had been purposely chosen for + this reason. The low note was a grunting, a rumble, the deep discordant + growling of an ill-conditioned dog. Then suddenly the singer threw up his + face, straightened his tubby figure, rose upon his tiptoes, and with + wagging head and scarlet cheeks emitted such a howl as the same dog might + have given had his growl been checked by a kick from his master. All the + while the lyre twanged and thrummed, sometimes in front of and sometimes + behind the voice of the singer. But what amazed Policles most of all was + the effect of this performance upon the audience. Every Greek was a + trained critic, and as unsparing in his hisses as he was lavish in his + applause. Many a singer far better than this absurd fop had been driven + amid execration and abuse from the platform. But now, as the man stopped + and wiped the abundant sweat from his fat face, the whole assembly burst + into a delirium of appreciation. The shepherd held his hands to his + bursting head, and felt that his reason must be leaving him. It was surely + a dreadful musical nightmare, and he would wake soon and laugh at the + remembrance. But no; the figures were real, the faces were those of his + neighbours, the cheers which resounded in his ears were indeed from an + audience which filled the theatre of Olympia. The whole chorus was in full + blast, the hummers humming, the shouters bellowing, the tappers hard at + work upon the benches, while every now and then came a musical cyclone of + “Incomparable! Divine!” from the trained phalanx who intoned their + applause, their united voices sweeping over the tumult as the drone of the + wind dominates the roar of the sea. It was madness—insufferable + madness! If this were allowed to pass, there was an end of all musical + justice in Greece. Policles’ conscience would not permit him to be still. + Standing upon his bench with waving hands and upraised voice, he protested + with all the strength of his lungs against the mad judgment of the + audience. + </p> + <p> + At first, amid the tumult, his action was hardly noticed. His voice was + drowned in the universal roar which broke out afresh at each bow and smirk + from the fatuous musician. But gradually the folk round Policles ceased + clapping, and stared at him in astonishment. The silence grew in ever + widening circles, until the whole great assembly sat mute, staring at this + wild and magnificent creature who was storming at them from his perch near + the door. + </p> + <p> + “Fools!” he cried. “What are you clapping at? What are you cheering? Is + this what you call music? Is this cat-calling to earn an Olympian prize? + The fellow has not a note in his voice. You are either deaf or mad, and I + for one cry shame upon you for your folly.” + </p> + <p> + Soldiers ran to pull him down, and the whole audience was in confusion, + some of the bolder cheering the sentiments of the shepherd, and others + crying that he should be cast out of the building. Meanwhile the + successful singer having handed his lyre to his negro attendant, was + inquiring from those around him on the stage as to the cause of the + uproar. Finally a herald with an enormously powerful voice stepped forward + to the front and proclaimed that if the foolish person at the back of the + hall, who appeared to differ from the opinion of the rest of the audience, + would come forward upon the platform, he might, if he dared, exhibit his + own powers, and see if he could outdo the admirable and wonderful + exhibition which they had just had the privilege of hearing. + </p> + <p> + Policles sprang readily to his feet at the challenge, and the great + company making way for him to pass, he found himself a minute later + standing in his unkempt garb, with his frayed and weather-beaten harp in + his hand, before the expectant crowd. He stood for a moment tightening a + string here and slackening another there until his chords rang true. Then, + amid a murmur of laughter and jeers from the Roman benches immediately + before him, he began to sing. + </p> + <p> + He had prepared no composition, but he had trained himself to improvise, + singing out of his heart for the joy of the music. He told of the land of + Elis, beloved of Jupiter, in which they were gathered that day, of the + great bare mountain slopes, of the swift shadows of the clouds, of the + winding blue river, of the keen air of the uplands, of the chill of the + evenings, and the beauties of earth and sky. It was all simple and + childlike, but it went to the hearts of the Olympians, for it spoke of the + land which they knew and loved. Yet when he at last dropped his hand, few + of them dared to applaud, and their feeble voices were drowned by a storm + of hisses and groans from his opponents. He shrank back in horror from so + unusual a reception, and in an instant his blue-clad rival was in his + place. If he had sung badly before, his performance now was inconceivable. + His screams, his grunts, his discords, and harsh jarring cacophanies were + an outrage to the very name of music. And yet every time that he paused + for breath or to wipe his streaming forehead a fresh thunder of applause + came rolling back from the audience. Policles sank his face in his hands + and prayed that he might not be insane. Then, when the dreadful + performance ceased, and the uproar of admiration showed that the crown was + certainly awarded to this impostor, a horror of the audience, a hatred of + this race of fools, and a craving for the peace and silence of the + pastures mastered every feeling in his mind. He dashed through the mass of + people waiting at the wings, and emerged in the open air. His old rival + and friend Metas of Corinth was waiting there with an anxious face. + </p> + <p> + “Quick, Policles, quick!” he cried. “My pony is tethered behind yonder + grove. A grey he is, with red trappings. Get you gone as hard as hoof will + bear you, for if you are taken you will have no easy death.” + </p> + <p> + “No easy death! What mean you, Metas? Who is the fellow?” + </p> + <p> + “Great Jupiter! did you not know? Where have you lived? It is Nero the + Emperor! Never would he pardon what you have said about his voice. Quick, + man, quick, or the guards will be at your heels!” + </p> + <p> + An hour later the shepherd was well on his way to his mountain home, and + about the same time the Emperor, having received the Chaplet of Olympia + for the incomparable excellence of his performance, was making inquiries + with a frowning brow as to who the insolent person might be who had dared + to utter such contemptuous criticisms. + </p> + <p> + “Bring him to me here this instant,” said he, “and let Marcus with his + knife and branding-iron be in attendance.” + </p> + <p> + “If it please you, great Caesar,” said Arsenius Platus, the officer of + attendance, “the man cannot be found, and there are some very strange + rumours flying about.” + </p> + <p> + “Rumours!” cried the angry Nero. “What do you mean, Arsenius? I tell you + that the fellow was an ignorant upstart, with the bearing of a boor and + the voice of a peacock. I tell you also that there are a good many who are + as guilty as he among the people, for I heard them with my own ears raise + cheers for him when he had sung his ridiculous ode. I have half a mind to + burn their town about their ears so that they may remember my visit.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not to be wondered at if he won their votes, Caesar,” said the + soldier, “for from what I hear it would have been no disgrace had you, + even you, been conquered in this conquest.” + </p> + <p> + “I conquered! You are mad, Arsenius. What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “None know him, great Caesar! He came from the mountains, and he + disappeared into the mountains. You marked the wildness and strange beauty + of his face. It is whispered that for once the great god Pan has + condescended to measure himself against a mortal.” + </p> + <p> + The cloud cleared from Nero’s brow. “Of course, Arsenius! You are right! + No man would have dared to brave me so. What a story for Rome! Let the + messenger leave this very night, Arsenius, to tell them how their Emperor + has upheld their honour in Olympia this day.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THROUGH THE VEIL. + </h2> + <p> + He was a great shock-headed, freckle-faced Borderer, the lineal descendant + of a cattle-thieving clan in Liddesdale. In spite of his ancestry he was + as solid and sober a citizen as one would wish to see, a town councillor + of Melrose, an elder of the Church, and the chairman of the local branch + of the Young Men’s Christian Association. Brown was his name—and you + saw it printed up as “Brown and Handiside” over the great grocery stores + in the High Street. His wife, Maggie Brown, was an Armstrong before her + marriage, and came from an old farming stock in the wilds of Teviothead. + She was small, swarthy, and dark-eyed, with a strangely nervous + temperament for a Scotch woman. No greater contrast could be found than + the big tawny man and the dark little woman; but both were of the soil as + far back as any memory could extend. + </p> + <p> + One day—it was the first anniversary of their wedding—they had + driven over together to see the excavations of the Roman Fort at Newstead. + It was not a particularly picturesque spot. From the northern bank of the + Tweed, just where the river forms a loop, there extends a gentle slope of + arable land. Across it run the trenches of the excavators, with here and + there an exposure of old stonework to show the foundations of the ancient + walls. It had been a huge place, for the camp was fifty acres in extent, + and the fort fifteen. However, it was all made easy for them since Mr. + Brown knew the farmer to whom the land belonged. Under his guidance they + spent a long summer evening inspecting the trenches, the pits, the + ramparts, and all the strange variety of objects which were waiting to be + transported to the Edinburgh Museum of Antiquities. The buckle of a + woman’s belt had been dug up that very day, and the farmer was discoursing + upon it when his eyes fell upon Mrs. Brown’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Your good leddy’s tired,” said he. “Maybe you’d best rest a wee before we + gang further.” + </p> + <p> + Brown looked at his wife. She was certainly very pale, and her dark eyes + were bright and wild. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, Maggie? I’ve wearied you. I’m thinkin’ it’s time we went + back.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, John, let us go on. It’s wonderful! It’s like a dreamland place. + It all seems so close and so near to me. How long were the Romans here, + Mr. Cunningham?” + </p> + <p> + “A fair time, mam. If you saw the kitchen midden-pits you would guess it + took a long time to fill them.” + </p> + <p> + “And why did they leave?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, mam, by all accounts they left because they had to. The folk round + could thole them no longer, so they just up and burned the fort aboot + their lugs. You can see the fire marks on the stanes.” + </p> + <p> + The woman gave a quick little shudder. “A wild night—a fearsome + night,” said she. “The sky must have been red that night—and these + grey stones, they may have been red also.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, I think they were red,” said her husband. “It’s a queer thing, + Maggie, and it may be your words that have done it; but I seem to see that + business aboot as clear as ever I saw anything in my life. The light shone + on the water.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, the light shone on the water. And the smoke gripped you by the + throat. And all the savages were yelling.” + </p> + <p> + The old farmer began to laugh. “The leddy will be writin’ a story aboot + the old fort,” said he. “I’ve shown many a one over it, but I never heard + it put so clear afore. Some folk have the gift.” + </p> + <p> + They had strolled along the edge of the foss, and a pit yawned upon the + right of them. + </p> + <p> + “That pit was fourteen foot deep,” said the farmer. “What d’ye think we + dug oot from the bottom o’t? Weel, it was just the skeleton of a man wi’ a + spear by his side. I’m thinkin’ he was grippin’ it when he died. Now, how + cam’ a man wi’ a spear doon a hole fourteen foot deep? He wasna’ buried + there, for they aye burned their dead. What make ye o’ that, mam?” + </p> + <p> + “He sprang doon to get clear of the savages,” said the woman. + </p> + <p> + “Weel, it’s likely enough, and a’ the professors from Edinburgh couldna + gie a better reason. I wish you were aye here, mam, to answer a’ oor + difficulties sae readily. Now, here’s the altar that we foond last week. + There’s an inscreeption. They tell me it’s Latin, and it means that the + men o’ this fort give thanks to God for their safety.” + </p> + <p> + They examined the old worn stone. There was a large deeply-cut “VV” upon + the top of it. “What does ‘VV’ stand for?” asked Brown. + </p> + <p> + “Naebody kens,” the guide answered. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Valeria Victrix</i>,” said the lady softly. Her face was paler than + ever, her eyes far away, as one who peers down the dim aisles of + overarching centuries. + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” asked her husband sharply. + </p> + <p> + She started as one who wakes from sleep. “What were we talking about?” she + asked. + </p> + <p> + “About this ‘VV’ upon the stone.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt it was just the name of the Legion which put the altar up.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, but you gave some special name.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I? How absurd! How should I ken what the name was?” + </p> + <p> + “You said something—‘<i>Victrix</i>,’ I think.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I was guessing. It gives me the queerest feeling, this place, + as if I were not myself, but someone else.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, it’s an uncanny place,” said her husband, looking round with an + expression almost of fear in his bold grey eyes. “I feel it mysel’. I + think we’ll just be wishin’ you good evenin’, Mr. Cunningham, and get back + to Melrose before the dark sets in.” + </p> + <p> + Neither of them could shake off the strange impression which had been left + upon them by their visit to the excavations. It was as if some miasma had + risen from those damp trenches and passed into their blood. All the + evening they were silent and thoughtful, but such remarks as they did make + showed that the same subject was in the minds of each. Brown had a + restless night, in which he dreamed a strange connected dream, so vivid + that he woke sweating and shivering like a frightened horse. He tried to + convey it all to his wife as they sat together at breakfast in the + morning. + </p> + <p> + “It was the clearest thing, Maggie,” said he. “Nothing that has ever come + to me in my waking life has been more clear than that. I feel as if these + hands were sticky with blood.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me of it—tell me slow,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “When it began, I was oot on a braeside. I was laying flat on the ground. + It was rough, and there were clumps of heather. All round me was just + darkness, but I could hear the rustle and the breathin’ of men. There + seemed a great multitude on every side of me, but I could see no one. + There was a low chink of steel sometimes, and then a number of voices + would whisper ‘Hush!’ I had a ragged club in my hand, and it had spikes o’ + iron near the end of it. My heart was beatin’ quickly, and I felt that a + moment of great danger and excitement was at hand. Once I dropped my club, + and again from all round me the voices in the darkness cried, ‘Hush!’ I + put oot my hand, and it touched the foot of another man lying in front of + me. There was some one at my very elbow on either side. But they said + nothin’. + </p> + <p> + “Then we all began to move. The whole braeside seemed to be crawlin’ + downwards. There was a river at the bottom and a high-arched wooden + bridge. Beyond the bridge were many lights—torches on a wall. The + creepin’ men all flowed towards the bridge. There had been no sound of any + kind, just a velvet stillness. And then there was a cry in the darkness, + the cry of a man who has been stabbed suddenly to the hairt. That one cry + swelled out for a moment, and then the roar of a thoosand furious voices. + I was runnin’. Every one was runnin’. A bright red light shone out, and + the river was a scarlet streak. I could see my companions now. They were + more like devils than men, wild figures clad in skins, with their hair and + beards streamin’. They were all mad with rage, jumpin’ as they ran, their + mouths open, their arms wavin’, the red light beatin’ on their faces. I + ran, too, and yelled out curses like the rest. Then I heard a great + cracklin’ of wood, and I knew that the palisades were doon. There was a + loud whistlin’ in my ears, and I was aware that arrows were flyin’ past + me. I got to the bottom of a dyke, and I saw a hand stretched doon from + above. I took it, and was dragged to the top. We looked doon, and there + were silver men beneath us holdin’ up their spears. Some of our folk + sprang on to the spears. Then we others followed, and we killed the + soldiers before they could draw the spears oot again. They shouted loud in + some foreign tongue, but no mercy was shown them. We went ower them like a + wave, and trampled them doon into the mud, for they were few, and there + was no end to our numbers. + </p> + <p> + “I found myself among buildings, and one of them was on fire. I saw the + flames spoutin’ through the roof. I ran on, and then I was alone among the + buildings. Some one ran across in front o’ me. It was a woman. I caught + her by the arm, and I took her chin and turned her face so as the light of + the fire would strike it. Whom think you that it was, Maggie?” + </p> + <p> + His wife moistened her dry lips. “It was I,” she said. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her in surprise. “That’s a good guess,” said he. “Yes, it was + just you. Not merely like you, you understand. It was you—you + yourself. I saw the same soul in your frightened eyes. You looked white + and bonny and wonderful in the firelight. I had just one thought in my + head—to get you awa’ with me; to keep you all to mysel’ in my own + home somewhere beyond the hills. You clawed at my face with your nails. I + heaved you over my shoulder, and I tried to find a way oot of the light of + the burning hoose and back into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Then came the thing that I mind best of all. You’re ill, Maggie. Shall I + stop? My God! You nave the very look on your face that you had last night + in my dream. You screamed. He came runnin’ in the firelight. His head was + bare; his hair was black and curled; he had a naked sword in his hand, + short and broad, little more than a dagger. He stabbed at me, but he + tripped and fell. I held you with one hand, and with the other—” + </p> + <p> + His wife had sprung to her feet with writhing features. + </p> + <p> + “Marcus!” she cried. “My beautiful Marcus! Oh, you brute! you brute! you + brute!” There was a clatter of tea-cups as she fell forward senseless upon + the table. + </p> + <p> + They never talk about that strange isolated incident in their married + life. For an instant the curtain of the past had swung aside, and some + strange glimpse of a forgotten life had come to them. But it closed down, + never to open again. They live their narrow round—he in his shop, + she in her household—and yet new and wider horizons have vaguely + formed themselves around them since that summer evening by the crumbling + Roman fort. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AN ICONOCLAST. + </h2> + <p> + It was daybreak of a March morning in the year of Christ 92. Outside the + long Semita Alta was already thronged with people, with buyers and + sellers, callers and strollers, for the Romans were so early-rising a + people that many a Patrician preferred to see his clients at six in the + morning. Such was the good republican tradition, still upheld by the more + conservative; but with more modern habits of luxury, a night of pleasure + and banqueting was no uncommon thing. Thus one, who had learned the new + and yet adhered to the old, might find his hours overlap, and without so + much as a pretence of sleep come straight from his night of debauch into + his day of business, turning with heavy wits and an aching head to that + round of formal duties which consumed the life of a Roman gentleman. + </p> + <p> + So it was with Emilius Flaccus that March morning. He and his fellow + senator, Caius Balbus, had passed the night in one of those gloomy + drinking bouts to which the Emperor Domitian summoned his chosen friends + at the high palace on the Palatine. Now, having reached the portals of the + house of Flaccus, they stood together under the pomegranate-fringed + portico which fronted the peristyle and, confident in each other’s tried + discretion, made up by the freedom of their criticism for their long + self-suppression of that melancholy feast. + </p> + <p> + “If he would but feed his guests,” said Balbus, a little red-faced, + choleric nobleman with yellow-shot angry eyes. “What had we? Upon my life, + I have forgotten. Plovers’ eggs, a mess of fish, some bird or other, and + then his eternal apples.” + </p> + <p> + “Of which,” said Flaccus, “he ate only the apples. Do him the justice to + confess that he takes even less than he gives. At least they cannot say of + him as of Vitellius, that his teeth beggared the empire.” + </p> + <p> + “No, nor his thirst either, great as it is. That fiery Sabine wine of his + could be had for a few sesterces the amphora. It is the common drink of + the carters at every wine-house on the country roads. I longed for a glass + of my own rich Falernian or the mellow Coan that was bottled in the year + that Titus took Jerusalem. Is it even now too late? Could we not wash this + rasping stuff from our palates?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, better come in with me now and take a bitter draught ere you go upon + your way. My Greek physician Stephanos has a rare prescription for a + morning head. What! Your clients await you? Well, I will see you later at + the Senate house.” + </p> + <p> + The Patrician had entered his atrium, bright with rare flowers, and + melodious with strange singing birds. At the jaws of the hall, true to his + morning duties, stood Lebs, the little Nubian slave, with snow-white tunic + and turban, a salver of glasses in one hand, whilst in the other he held a + flask of a thin lemon-tinted liquid. The master of the house filled up a + bitter aromatic bumper, and was about to drink it off, when his hand was + arrested by a sudden perception that something was much amiss in his + household. It was to be read all around him—in the frightened eyes + of the black boy, in the agitated face of the keeper of the atrium, in the + gloom and silence of the little knot of ordinarii, the procurator or + major-domo at their head, who had assembled to greet their master. + Stephanos the physician, Cleios the Alexandrine reader, Promus the steward + each turned his head away to avoid his master’s questioning gaze. + </p> + <p> + “What in the name of Pluto is the matter with you all?” cried the amazed + senator, whose night of potations had left him in no mood for patience. + “Why do you stand moping there? Stephanos, Vacculus—is anything + amiss? Here, Promus, you are the head of my household. What is it, then? + Why do you turn your eyes away from me?” + </p> + <p> + The burly steward, whose fat face was haggard and mottled with anxiety, + laid his hand upon the sleeve of the domestic beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Sergius is responsible for the atrium, my lord. It is for him to tell you + the terrible thing that has befallen in your absence.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, it was Datus who did it. Bring him in, and let him explain it + himself,” said Sergius in a sulky voice. + </p> + <p> + The patience of the Patrician was at an end. “Speak this instant, you + rascal!” he shouted angrily. “Another minute, and I will have you dragged + to the ergastulum, where, with your feet in the stocks and the gyves round + your wrists, you may learn quicker obedience. Speak, I say, and without + delay.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the Venus,” the man stammered; “the Greek Venus of Praxiteles.” + </p> + <p> + The senator gave a cry of apprehension and rushed to the corner of the + atrium, where a little shrine, curtained off by silken drapery, held the + precious statue, the greatest art treasure of his collection—perhaps + of the whole world. He tore the hangings aside and stood in speechless + anger before the outraged goddess. The red perfumed lamp which always + burned before her had been spilled and broken; her altar fire had been + quenched, her chaplet had been dashed aside. But worst of all—insufferable + sacrilege!—her own beautiful nude body of glistening Pantelic + marble, as white and fair as when the inspired Greek had hewed it out five + hundred years before, had been most brutally mishandled. Three fingers of + the gracious outstretched hand had been struck off, and lay upon the + pedestal beside her. Above her delicate breast a dark mark showed, where a + blow had disfigured the marble. Emilius Flaccus, the most delicate and + judicious connoisseur in Rome, stood gasping and croaking, his hand to his + throat, as he gazed at his disfigured masterpiece. Then he turned upon his + slaves, his fury in his convulsed face; but, to his amazement, they were + not looking at him, but had all turned in attitudes of deep respect + towards the opening of the peristyle. As he faced round and saw who had + just entered his house, his own rage fell away from him in an instant, and + his manner became as humble as that of his servants. + </p> + <p> + The newcomer was a man forty-three years of age, clean shaven, with a + massive head, large engorged eyes, a small clear-cut nose, and the full + bull neck which was the especial mark of his breed. He had entered through + the peristyle with a swaggering, rolling gait, as one who walks upon his + own ground, and now he stood, his hands upon his hips, looking round him + at the bowing slaves, and finally at their master, with a half-humorous + expression upon his flushed and brutal face. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Emilius,” said he, “I had understood that your household was the + best-ordered in Rome. What is amiss with you this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing could be amiss with us now that Caesar has deigned to come under + my roof,” said the courtier. “This is indeed a most glad surprise which + you have prepared for me.” + </p> + <p> + “It was an afterthought,” said Domitian. “When you and the others had left + me, I was in no mood for sleep, and so it came into my mind that I would + have a breath of morning air by coming down to you, and seeing this + Grecian Venus of yours, about which you discoursed so eloquently between + the cups. But, indeed, by your appearance and that of your servants, I + should judge that my visit was an ill-timed one.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, dear master; say not so. But, indeed, it is truth that I was in + trouble at the moment of your welcome entrance, and this trouble was, as + the Fates have willed it, brought forth by that very statue in which you + have been graciously pleased to show your interest. There it stands, and + you can see for yourself how rudely it has been mishandled.” + </p> + <p> + “By Pluto and all the nether gods, if it were mine some of you should feed + the lampreys,” said the Emperor, looking round with his fierce eyes at the + shrinking slaves. “You were always overmerciful, Emilius. It is the common + talk that your catenoe are rusted for want of use. But surely this is + beyond all bounds. Let me see how you handle the matter. Whom do you hold + responsible?” + </p> + <p> + “The slave Sergius is responsible, since it is his place to tend the + atrium,” said Flaccus. “Stand forward, Sergius. What have you to say?” + </p> + <p> + The trembling slave advanced to his master. “If it please you, sir, the + mischief has been done by Datus the Christian.” + </p> + <p> + “Datus! Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “The matulator, the scavenger, my lord. I did not know that he belonged to + these horrible people, or I should not have admitted him. He came with his + broom to brush out the litter of the birds. His eyes fell upon the Venus, + and in an instant he had rushed upon her and struck her two blows with his + wooden besom. Then we fell upon him and dragged him away. But alas! alas! + it was too late, for already the wretch had dashed off the fingers of the + goddess.” + </p> + <p> + The Emperor smiled grimly, while the Patrician’s thin face grew pale with + anger. + </p> + <p> + “Where is the fellow?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “In the ergastulum, your honour, with the furca on his neck.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring him hither and summon the household.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later the whole back of the atrium was thronged by the + motley crowd who ministered to the household needs of a great Roman + nobleman. There was the arcarius, or account keeper, with his stylum + behind his ear; the sleek praegustator, who sampled all foods, so as to + stand between his master and poison, and beside him his predecessor, now a + half-witted idiot through the interception twenty years before of a datura + draught from Canidia; the cellarman, summoned from amongst his amphorae; + the cook, with his basting-ladle in his hand; the pompous nomenclator, who + ushered the guests; the cubicularius, who saw to their accommodation; the + silentiarius, who kept order in the house; the structor, who set forth the + tables; the carptor, who carved the food; the cinerarius, who lit the + fires—these and many more, half-curious, half-terrified, came to the + judging of Datus. Behind them a chattering, giggling swarm of Lalages, + Marias, Cerusas, and Amaryllides, from the laundries and the + spinning-rooms, stood upon their tiptoes and extended their pretty + wondering faces over the shoulders of the men. Through this crowd came two + stout varlets leading the culprit between them. He was a small, dark, + rough-headed man, with an unkempt beard and wild eyes which shone, + brightly with strong inward emotion. His hands were bound behind him, and + over his neck was the heavy wooden collar or furca which was placed upon + refractory slaves. A smear of blood across his cheek showed that he had + not come uninjured from the preceding scuffle. + </p> + <p> + “Are you Datus the scavenger?” asked the Patrician. + </p> + <p> + The man drew himself up proudly. “Yes,” said he, “I am Datus.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you do this injury to my statue?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did.” + </p> + <p> + There was an uncompromising boldness in the man’s reply which compelled + respect. The wrath of his master became tinged with interest. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you do this?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Because it was my duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, was it your duty to destroy your master’s property?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I am a Christian.” His eyes blazed suddenly out of his dark face. + “Because there is no God but the one eternal, and all else are sticks and + stones. What has this naked harlot to do with Him to whom the great + firmament is but a garment and the earth a footstool? It was in His + service that I have broken your statue.” + </p> + <p> + Domitian looked with a smile at the Patrician. “You will make nothing of + him,” said he. “They speak even so when they stand before the lions in the + arena. As to argument, not all the philosophers of Rome can break them + down. Before my very face they refuse to sacrifice in my honour. Never + were such impossible people to deal with. I should take a short way with + him if I were you.” + </p> + <p> + “What would Caesar advise?” + </p> + <p> + “There are the games this afternoon. I am showing the new hunting-leopard + which King Juba has sent from Numidia. This slave may give us some sport + when he finds the hungry beast sniffing at his heels.” + </p> + <p> + The Patrician considered for a moment. He had always been a father to his + servants. It was hateful to him to think of any injury befalling them. + Perhaps even now, if this strange fanatic would show his sorrow for what + he had done, it might be possible to spare him. At least it was worth + trying. + </p> + <p> + “Your offence deserves death,” he said. “What reasons can you give why it + should not befall you, since you have injured this statue, which is worth + your own price a hundred times over?” + </p> + <p> + The slave looked steadfastly at his master. “I do not fear death,” he + said. “My sister Candida died in the arena, and I am ready to do the same. + It is true that I have injured your statue, but I am able to find you + something of far greater value in exchange. I will give you the truth and + the gospel in exchange for your broken idol.” + </p> + <p> + The Emperor laughed. “You will do nothing with him, Emilius,” he said. “I + know his breed of old. He is ready to die; he says so himself. Why save + him, then?” + </p> + <p> + But the Patrician still hesitated. He would make a last effort. + </p> + <p> + “Throw off his bonds,” he said to the guards. “Now take the furca off his + neck. So! Now, Datus, I have released you to show you that I trust you. I + have no wish to do you any hurt if you will but acknowledge your error, + and so set a better example to my household here assembled.” + </p> + <p> + “How, then, shall I acknowledge my error?” the slave asked. + </p> + <p> + “Bow your head before the goddess, and entreat her forgiveness for the + violence you have done her. Then perhaps you may gain my pardon as well.” + </p> + <p> + “Put me, then, before her,” said the Christian. + </p> + <p> + Emilius Flaccus looked triumphantly at Domitian. By kindness and tact he + was effecting that which the Emperor had failed to do by violence. Datus + walked in front of the mutilated Venus. Then with a sudden spring he tore + the baton out of the hand of one of his guardians, leaped upon the + pedestal, and showered his blows upon the lovely marble woman. With a + crack and a dull thud her right arm dropped to the ground. Another fierce + blow and the left had followed. Flaccus danced and screamed with horror, + while his servants dragged the raving iconoclast from his impassive + victim. Domitian’s brutal laughter echoed through the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Well, friend, what think you now?” he cried. “Are you wiser than your + Emperor? Can you indeed tame your Christian with kindness?” + </p> + <p> + Emilius Flaccus wiped the sweat from his brow. “He is yours, great Caesar. + Do with him as you will.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him be at the gladiators’ entrance of the circus an hour before the + games begin,” said the Emperor. “Now, Emilius, the night has been a merry + one. My Ligurian galley waits by the river quay. Come, cool your head with + a spin to Ostia ere the business of State calls you to the Senate.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + GIANT MAXIMIN. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I THE COMING OF MAXIMIN + </h2> + <p> + Many are the strange vicissitudes of history. Greatness has often sunk to + the dust, and has tempered itself to its new surrounding. Smallness has + risen aloft, has flourished for a time, and then has sunk once more. Rich + monarchs have become poor monks, brave conquerors have lost their manhood, + eunuchs and women have overthrown armies and kingdoms. Surely there is no + situation which the mind of man can invent which has not taken shape and + been played out upon the world stage. But of all the strange careers and + of all the wondrous happenings, stranger than Charles in his monastery, or + Justin on his throne, there stands the case of Giant Maximin, what he + attained, and how he attained it. Let me tell the sober facts of history, + tinged only by that colouring to which the more austere historians could + not condescend. It is a record as well as a story. + </p> + <p> + In the heart of Thrace some ten miles north of the Rhodope mountains, + there is a valley which is named Harpessus, after the stream which runs + down it. Through this valley lies the main road from the east to the west, + and along the road, returning from an expedition against the Alani, there + marched, upon the fifth day of the month of June in the year 210, a small + but compact Roman army. It consisted of three legions—the Jovian, + the Cappadocian, and the men of Hercules. Ten turmae of Gallic cavalry led + the van, whilst the rear was covered by a regiment of Batavian Horse + Guards, the immediate attendants of the Emperor Septimus Severus who had + conducted the campaign in person. The peasants who lined the low hills + which fringed the valley looked with indifference upon the long files of + dusty, heavily-burdened infantry, but they broke into murmurs of delight + at the gold-faced cuirasses and high brazen horse-hair helmets of the + guardsmen, applauding their stalwart figures, their martial bearing, and + the stately black chargers which they rode. A soldier might know that it + was the little weary men with their short swords, their heavy pikes over + their shoulders, and their square shields slung upon their backs, who were + the real terror of the enemies of the Empire, but to the eyes of the + wondering Thracians it was this troop of glittering Apollos who bore + Rome’s victory upon their banners, and upheld the throne of the + purple-togaed prince who rode before them. + </p> + <p> + Among the scattered groups of peasants who looked on from a respectful + distance at this military pageant, there were two men who attracted much + attention from those who stood immediately around them. The one was + commonplace enough—a little grey-headed man, with uncouth dress and + a frame which was bent and warped by a long life of arduous toil, + goat-driving and wood-chopping among the mountains. It was the appearance + of his youthful companion which had drawn the amazed observation of the + bystanders. In stature he was such a giant as is seen but once or twice in + each generation of mankind. Eight feet and two inches was his measure from + his sandalled sole to the topmost curls of his tangled hair. Yet for all + his mighty stature there was nothing heavy or clumsy in the man. His huge + shoulders bore no redundant flesh, and his figure was straight and hard + and supple as a young pine tree. A frayed suit of brown leather clung + close to his giant body, and a cloak of undressed sheep-skin was slung + from his shoulder. His bold blue eyes, shock of yellow hair and fair skin + showed that he was of Gothic or northern blood, and the amazed expression + upon his broad frank face as he stared at the passing troops told of a + simple and uneventful life in some back valley of the Macedonian + mountains. + </p> + <p> + “I fear your mother was right when she advised that we keep you at home,” + said the old man anxiously. “Tree-cutting and wood-carrying will seem but + dull work after such a sight as this.” + </p> + <p> + “When I see mother next it will be to put a golden torque round her neck,” + said the young giant. “And you, daddy; I will fill your leather pouch with + gold pieces before I have done.” + </p> + <p> + The old man looked at his son with startled eyes. “You would not leave us, + Theckla! What could we do without you?” + </p> + <p> + “My place is down among yonder men,” said the young man. “I was not born + to drive goats and carry logs, but to sell this manhood of mine in the + best market. There is my market in the Emperor’s own Guard. Say nothing, + daddy, for my mind is set, and if you weep now it will be to laugh + hereafter. I will to great Rome with the soldiers.” + </p> + <p> + The daily march of the heavily laden Roman legionary was fixed at twenty + miles; but on this afternoon, though only half the distance had been + accomplished, the silver trumpets blared out their welcome news that a + camp was to be formed. As the men broke their ranks, the reason of their + light march was announced by the decurions. It was the birthday of Geta, + the younger son of the Emperor, and in his honour there would be games and + a double ration of wine. But the iron discipline of the Roman army + required that under all circumstances certain duties should be performed, + and foremost among them that the camp should be made secure. Laying down + their arms in the order of their ranks, the soldiers seized their spades + and axes, and worked rapidly and joyously until sloping vallum and gaping + fossa girdled them round, and gave them safe refuge against a night + attack. Then in noisy, laughing, gesticulating crowds they gathered in + their thousands round the grassy arena where the sports were to be held. A + long green hillside sloped down to a level plain, and on this gentle + incline the army lay watching the strife of the chosen athletes who + contended before them. They stretched themselves in the glare of the + sunshine, their heavy tunics thrown off, and their naked limbs sprawling, + wine-cups an baskets of fruit and cakes circling amongst them, enjoying + rest and peace as only those can to whom it comes so rarely. + </p> + <p> + The five-mile race was over, and had been won as usual by Decurion + Brennus, the crack long-distance champion of the Herculians. Amid the + yells of the Jovians, Capellus of the corps had carried off both the long + and the high jump. Big Brebix the Gaul had out-thrown the long guardsman + Serenus with the fifty pound stone. Now, as the sun sank towards the + western ridge, and turned the Harpessus to a riband of gold, they had come + to the final of the wrestling, where the pliant Greek, whose name is lost + in the nickname of “Python,” was tried out against the bull-necked Lictor + of the military police, a hairy Hercules, whose heavy hand had in the way + of duty oppressed many of the spectators. + </p> + <p> + As the two men, stripped save for their loin-cloths, approached the + wrestling-ring, cheers and counter-cheers burst from their adherents, some + favouring the Lictor for his Roman blood, some the Greek from their own + private grudge. And then, of a sudden, the cheering died, heads were + turned towards the slope away from the arena, men stood up and peered and + pointed, until finally, in a strange hush, the whole great assembly had + forgotten the athletes, and were watching a single man walking swiftly + towards them down the green curve of the hill. This huge solitary figure, + with the oaken club in his hand, the shaggy fleece flapping from his great + shoulders, and the setting sun gleaming upon a halo of golden hair, might + have been the tutelary god of the fierce and barren mountains from which + he had issued. Even the Emperor rose from his chair and gazed with + open-eyed amazement at the extraordinary being who approached him. + </p> + <p> + The man, whom we already know as Theckla the Thracian, paid no heed to the + attention which he had aroused, but strode onwards, stepping as lightly as + a deer, until he reached the fringe of the soldiers. Amid their open ranks + he picked his way, sprang over the ropes which guarded the arena, and + advanced towards the Emperor, until a spear at his breast warned him that + he must go no nearer. Then he sunk upon his right knee and called out some + words in the Gothic speech. + </p> + <p> + “Great Jupiter! Whoever saw such a body of a man!” cried the Emperor. + “What says he? What is amiss with the fellow? Whence comes he, and what is + his name?” + </p> + <p> + An interpreter translated the Barbarian’s answer. “He says, great Caesar, + that he is of good blood, and sprung by a Gothic father from a woman of + the Alani. He says that his name is Theckla, and that he would fain carry + a sword in Caesar’s service.” + </p> + <p> + The Emperor smiled. “Some post could surely be found for such a man, were + it but as janitor at the Palatine Palace,” said he to one of the Prefects. + “I would fain see him walk even as he is through the forum. He would turn + the heads of half the women in Rome. Talk to him, Crassus. You know his + speech.” + </p> + <p> + The Roman officer turned to the giant. “Caesar says that you are to come + with him, and he will make you the servant at his door.” + </p> + <p> + The Barbarian rose, and his fair cheeks flushed with resentment. + </p> + <p> + “I will serve Caesar as a soldier,” said he, “but I will be house-servant + to no man-not even to him. If Caesar would see what manner of man I am, + let him put one of his guardsmen up against me.” + </p> + <p> + “By the shade of Milo this is a bold fellow!” cried the Emperor. “How say + you, Crassus? Shall he make good his words?” + </p> + <p> + “By your leave, Caesar,” said the blunt soldier, “good swordsmen are too + rare in these days that we should let them slay each other for sport. + Perhaps if the Barbarian would wrestle a fall—” + </p> + <p> + “Excellent!” cried the Emperor. “Here is the Python, and here Varus the + Lictor, each stripped for the bout. Have a look at them, Barbarian, and + see which you would choose. What does he say? He would take them both? Nay + then he is either the king of wrestlers or the king of boasters, and we + shall soon see which. Let him have his way, and he has himself to thank if + he comes out with a broken neck.” + </p> + <p> + There was some laughter when the peasant tossed his sheep-skin mantle to + the ground and, without troubling to remove his leathern tunic, advanced + towards the two wrestlers; but it became uproarious when with a quick + spring he seized the Greek under one arm and the Roman under the other, + holding them as in a vice. Then with a terrific effort he tore them both + from the ground, carried them writhing and kicking round the arena, and + finally walking up to the Emperor’s throne, threw his two athletes down in + front of him. Then, bowing to Caesar, the huge Barbarian withdrew, and + laid his great bulk down among the ranks of the applauding soldiers, + whence he watched with stolid unconcern the conclusion of the sports. + </p> + <p> + It was still daylight, when the last event had been decided, and the + soldiers returned to the camp. The Emperor Severus had ordered his horse, + and in the company of Crassus, his favourite prefect, rode down the + winding pathway which skirts the Harpessus, chatting over the future + dispersal of the army. They had ridden for some miles when Severus, + glancing behind him, was surprised to see a huge figure which trotted + lightly along at the very heels of his horse. + </p> + <p> + “Surely this is Mercury as well as Hercules that we have found among the + Thracian mountains,” said he with a smile. “Let us see how soon our Syrian + horses can out-distance him.” + </p> + <p> + The two Romans broke into a gallop, and did not draw rein until a good + mile had been covered at the full pace of their splendid chargers. Then + they turned and looked back; but there, some distance off, still running + with a lightness and a spring which spoke of iron muscles and + inexhaustible endurance, came the great Barbarian. The Roman Emperor + waited until the athlete had come up to them. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you follow me?” he asked. “It is my hope, Caesar, that I may + always follow you.” His flushed face as he spoke was almost level with + that of the mounted Roman. + </p> + <p> + “By the god of war, I do not know where in all the world I could find such + a servant!” cried the Emperor. “You shall be my own body-guard, the one + nearest to me of all.” + </p> + <p> + The giant fell upon his knee. “My life and strength are yours,” he said. + “I ask no more than to spend them for Caesar.” + </p> + <p> + Crassus had interpreted this short dialogue. He now turned to the Emperor. + </p> + <p> + “If he is indeed to be always at your call, Caesar, it would be well to + give the poor Barbarian some name which your lips can frame. Theckla is as + uncouth and craggy a word as one of his native rocks.” + </p> + <p> + The Emperor pondered for a moment. “If I am to have the naming of him,” + said he, “then surely I shall call him Maximus, for there is not such a + giant upon earth.” + </p> + <p> + “Hark you,” said the Prefect. “The Emperor has deigned to give you a Roman + name, since you have come into his service. Henceforth you are no longer + Theckla, but you are Maximus. Can you say it after me?” + </p> + <p> + “Maximin,” repeated the Barbarian, trying to catch the Roman word. + </p> + <p> + The Emperor laughed at the mincing accent. “Yes, yes, Maximin let it be. + To all the world you are Maximin, the body-guard of Severus. When we have + reached Rome, we will soon see that your dress shall correspond with your + office. Meanwhile march with the guard until you have my further orders.” + </p> + <p> + So it came about that as the Roman army resumed its march next day, and + left behind it the fair valley of the Harpessus, a huge recruit, clad in + brown leather, with a rude sheep-skin floating from his shoulders, marched + beside the Imperial troop. But far away in the wooden farmhouse of a + distant Macedonian valley two old country folk wept salt tears, and prayed + to the gods for the safety of their boy who had turned his face to Rome. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II THE RISE OF GIANT MAXIMIN + </h2> + <p> + Exactly twenty-five years had passed since the day that Theckla the huge + Thracian peasant had turned into Maximin the Roman guardsman. They had not + been good years for Rome. Gone for ever were the great Imperial days of + the Hadrians and the Trajans. Gone also the golden age of the two + Antonines, when the highest were for once the most worthy and most wise. + It had been an epoch of weak and cruel men. Severus, the swarthy African, + a stark grim man, had died in far away York, after fighting all the winter + with the Caledonian Highlanders—a race who have ever since worn the + martial garb of the Romans. His son, known only by his slighting nick-name + of Caracalla, had reigned during six years of insane lust and cruelty, + before the knife of an angry soldier avenged the dignity of the Roman + name. The nonentity Macrinus had filled the dangerous throne for a single + year before he also met a bloody end, and made room for the most grotesque + of all monarchs, the unspeakable Heliogabalus with his foul mind and his + painted face. He in turn was cut to pieces by the soldiers, and Severus + Alexander, a gentle youth, scarce seventeen years of age, had been thrust + into his place. For thirteen years now he had ruled, striving with some + success to put some virtue and stability into the rotting Empire, but + raising many fierce enemies as he did so-enemies whom he had not the + strength nor the wit to hold in check. + </p> + <p> + And Giant Maximin—what of him? He had carried his eight feet of + manhood through the lowlands of Scotland, and the passes of the Grampians. + He had seen Severus pass away, and had soldiered with his son. He had + fought in Armenia, in Dacia, and in Germany. They had made him a centurion + upon the field when with his hands he plucked out one by one the stockades + of a northern village, and so cleared a path for the stormers. His + strength had been the jest and the admiration of the soldiers. Legends + about him had spread through the army and were the common gossip round the + camp fires—of his duel with the German axeman on the Island of the + Rhine, and of the blow with his fist which broke the leg of a Scythian’s + horse. Gradually he had won his way upwards, until now, after quarter of a + century’s service he was tribune of the fourth legion and superintendent + of recruits for the whole army. The young soldier who had come under the + glare of Maximin’s eyes, or had been lifted up with one huge hand while he + was cuffed by the other, had his first lesson from him in the discipline + of the service. + </p> + <p> + It was nightfall in the camp of the fourth legion upon the Gallic shore of + the Rhine. Across the moonlit water, amid the thick forests which + stretched away to the dim horizon, lay the wild untamed German tribes. + Down on the river bank the light gleamed upon the helmets of the Roman + sentinels who kept guard along the river. Far away a red point rose and + fell in the darkness—a watch-fire of the enemy upon the further + shore. + </p> + <p> + Outside his tent, beside some smouldering logs, Giant Maximin was seated, + a dozen of his officers around him. He had changed much since the day when + we first met him in the Valley of the Harpessus. His huge frame was as + erect as ever, and there was no sign of diminution of his strength. But he + had aged none the less. The yellow tangle of hair was gone, worn down by + the ever-pressing helmet. The fresh young face was drawn and hardened, + with austere lines wrought by trouble and privation. The nose was more + hawk-like, the eyes more cunning, the expression more cynical and more + sinister. In his youth, a child would have run to his arms. Now it would + shrink screaming from his gaze. That was what twenty-five years with the + eagles had done for Theckla the Thracian peasant. + </p> + <p> + He was listening now—for he was a man of few words—to the + chatter of his centurions. One of them, Balbus the Sicilian, had been to + the main camp at Mainz, only four miles away, and had seen the Emperor + Alexander arrive that very day from Rome. The rest were eager at the news, + for it was a time of unrest, and the rumour of great changes was in the + air. + </p> + <p> + “How many had he with him?” asked Labienus, a black-browed veteran from + the south of Gaul. “I’ll wager a month’s pay that he was not so trustful + as to come alone among his faithful legions.” + </p> + <p> + “He had no great force,” replied Balbus. “Ten or twelve cohorts of the + Praetorians and a handful of horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Then indeed his head is in the lion’s mouth,” cried Sulpicius, a + hot-headed youth from the African Pentapolis. “How was he received?” + </p> + <p> + “Coldly enough. There was scarce a shout as he came down the line.” + </p> + <p> + “They are ripe for mischief,” said Labienus. “And who can wonder, when it + is we soldiers who uphold the Empire upon our spears, while the lazy + citizens at Rome reap all of our sowing. Why cannot a soldier have what a + soldier gains? So long as they throw us our denarius a day, they think + that they have done with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye,” croaked a grumbling old greybeard. “Our limbs, our blood, our lives—what + do they care so long as the Barbarians are held off, and they are left in + peace to their feastings and their circus? Free bread, free wine, free + games—everything for the loafer at Rome. For us the frontier guard + and a soldier’s fare.” + </p> + <p> + Maximin gave a deep laugh. “Old Plancus talks like that,” said he; “but we + know that for all the world he would not change his steel plate for a + citizen’s gown. You’ve earned the kennel, old hound, if you wish it. Go + and gnaw your bone and growl in peace.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I am too old for change. I will follow the eagle till I die. And yet + I had rather die in serving a soldier master than a long-gowned Syrian who + comes of a stock where the women are men and the men are women.” + </p> + <p> + There was a laugh from the circle of soldiers, for sedition and mutiny + were rife in the camp, and even the old centurion’s outbreak could not + draw a protest. Maximin raised his great mastiff head and looked at + Balbus. + </p> + <p> + “Was any name in the mouths of the soldiers?” he asked in a meaning voice. + </p> + <p> + There was a hush for the answer. The sigh of the wind among the pines and + the low lapping of the river swelled out louder in the silence. Balbus + looked hard at his commander. + </p> + <p> + “Two names were whispered from rank to rank,” said he. “One was Ascenius + Pollio, the General. The other was—” + </p> + <p> + The fiery Sulpicius sprang to his feet waving a glowing brand above his + head. + </p> + <p> + “Maximinus!” he yelled, “Imperator Maximinus Augustus!” + </p> + <p> + Who could tell how it came about? No one had thought of it an hour before. + And now it sprang in an instant to full accomplishment. The shout of the + frenzied young African had scarcely rung through the darkness when from + the tents, from the watch-fires, from the sentries, the answer came + pealing back: “Ave, Maximinus! Ave Maximinus Augustus!” From all sides men + came rushing, half-clad, wild-eyed, their eyes staring, their mouths + agape, flaming wisps of straw or flaring torches above their heads. The + giant was caught up by scores of hands, and sat enthroned upon the + bull-necks of the legionaries. “To the camp!” they yelled. “To the camp! + Hail! Hail to the soldier Caesar!” + </p> + <p> + That same night Severus Alexander, the young Syrian Emperor, walked + outside his Praetorian camp, accompanied by his friend Licinius Probus, + the Captain of the Guard. They were talking gravely of the gloomy faces + and seditious bearing of the soldiers. A great foreboding of evil weighed + heavily upon the Emperor’s heart, and it was reflected upon the stern + bearded face of his companion. + </p> + <p> + “I like it not,” said he. “It is my counsel, Caesar, that with the first + light of morning we make our way south once more.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely,” the Emperor answered, “I could not for shame turn my back + upon the danger. What have they against me? How have I harmed them that + they should forget their vows and rise upon me?” + </p> + <p> + “They are like children who ask always for something new. You heard the + murmur as you rode along the ranks. Nay, Caesar, fly tomorrow, and your + Praetorians will see that you are not pursued. There may be some loyal + cohorts among the legions, and if we join forces—” + </p> + <p> + A distant shout broke in upon their conversation—a low continued + roar, like the swelling tumult of a sweeping wave. Far down the road upon + which they stood there twinkled many moving lights, tossing and sinking as + they rapidly advanced, whilst the hoarse tumultuous bellowing broke into + articulate words, the same tremendous words, a thousand-fold repeated. + Licinius seized the Emperor by the wrist and dragged him under the cover + of some bushes. + </p> + <p> + “Be still, Caesar! For your life be still!” he whispered. “One word and we + are lost!” + </p> + <p> + Crouching in the darkness, they saw that wild procession pass, the rushing + screaming figures, the tossing arms, the bearded, distorted faces, now + scarlet and now grey, as the brandished torches waxed or waned. They heard + the rush of many feet, the clamour of hoarse voices, the clang of metal + upon metal. And then suddenly, above them all, they saw a vision of a + monstrous man, a huge bowed back, a savage face, grim hawk eyes, that + looked out over the swaying shields. It was seen for an instant in a + smoke-fringed circle of fire, and then it had swept on into the night. + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” stammered the Emperor, clutching at his guardsman’s sleeve. + “They call him Caesar.” + </p> + <p> + “It is surely Maximin the Thracian peasant.” In the darkness the + Praetorian officer looked with strange eyes at his master. + </p> + <p> + “It is all over, Caesar. Let us fly your tent.” + </p> + <p> + But even as they went a second shout had broken forth tenfold louder than + the first. If the one had been the roar of the oncoming wave, the other + was the full turmoil of the tempest. Twenty thousand voices from the camp + had broken into one wild shout which echoed through the night, until the + distant Germans round their watch-fires listened in wonder and alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Ave!” cried the voices. “Ave Maximinus Augustus!” + </p> + <p> + High upon their bucklers stood the giant, and looked round him at the + great floor of upturned faces below. His own savage soul was stirred by + the clamour, but only his gleaming eyes spoke of the fire within. He waved + his hand to the shouting soldiers as the huntsman waves to the leaping + pack. They passed him up a coronet of oak leaves, and clashed their swords + in homage as he placed it on his head. And then there came a swirl in the + crowd before him, a little space was cleared, and there knelt an officer + in the Praetorian garb, blood upon his face, blood upon his bared forearm, + blood upon his naked sword. Licinius too had gone with the tide. + </p> + <p> + “Hail, Caesar, hail!” he cried, as he bowed his head before the giant. “I + come from Alexander. He will trouble you no more.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III THE FALL OF MAXIMIN + </h2> + <p> + For three years the soldier Emperor had been upon the throne. His palace + had been his tent, and his people had been the legionaries. With them he + was supreme; away from them he was nothing. He had gone with them from one + frontier to the other. He had fought against Dacians, Sarmatians, and once + again against the Germans. But Rome knew nothing of him, and all her + turbulence rose against a master who cared so little for her or her + opinion that he never deigned to set foot within her walls. There were + cabals and conspiracies against the absent Caesar. Then his heavy hand + fell upon them, and they were cuffed, even as the young soldiers had been + who passed under his discipline. He knew nothing, and cared as much for + consuls, senates, and civil laws. His own will and the power of the sword + were the only forces which he could understand. Of commerce and the arts + he was as ignorant as when he left his Thracian home. The whole vast + Empire was to him a huge machine for producing the money by which the + legions were to be rewarded. Should he fail to get that money, his fellow + soldiers would bear him a grudge. To watch their interests they had raised + him upon their shields that night. If city funds had to be plundered or + temples desecrated, still the money must be got. Such was the point of + view of Giant Maximin. + </p> + <p> + But there came resistance, and all the fierce energy of the man, all the + hardness which had given him the leadership of hard men, sprang forth to + quell it. From his youth he had lived amidst slaughter. Life and death + were cheap things to him. He struck savagely at all who stood up to him, + and when they hit back, he struck more savagely still. His giant shadow + lay black across the Empire from Britain to Syria. A strange subtle + vindictiveness became also apparent in him. Omnipotence ripened every + fault and swelled it into crime. In the old days he had been rebuked for + his roughness. Now a sullen dangerous anger arose against those who had + rebuked him. He sat by the hour with his craggy chin between his hands, + and his elbows resting on his knees, while he recalled all the + misadventures, all the vexations of his early youth, when Roman wits had + shot their little satires upon his bulk and his ignorance. He could not + write, but his son Verus placed the names upon his tablets, and they were + sent to the Governor of Rome. Men who had long forgotten their offence + were called suddenly to make most bloody reparation. + </p> + <p> + A rebellion broke out in Africa, but was quelled by his lieutenant. But + the mere rumour of it set Rome in a turmoil. The Senate found something of + its ancient spirit. So did the Italian people. They would not be for ever + bullied by the legions. As Maximin approached from the frontier, with the + sack of rebellious Rome in his mind, he was faced with every sign of a + national resistance. The countryside was deserted, the farms abandoned, + the fields cleared of crops and cattle. Before him lay the walled town of + Aquileia. He flung himself fiercely upon it, but was met by as fierce a + resistance. The walls could not be forced, and yet there was no food in + the country round for his legions. The men were starving and dissatisfied. + What did it matter to them who was Emperor? Maximin was no better than + themselves. Why should they call down the curse of the whole Empire upon + their heads by upholding him? He saw their sullen faces and their averted + eyes, and he knew that the end had come. + </p> + <p> + That night he sat with his son Verus in his tent, and he spoke softly and + gently as the youth had never heard him speak before. He had spoken thus + in old days with Paullina, the boy’s mother; but she had been dead these + many years, and all that was soft and gentle in the big man had passed + away with her. Now her spirit seemed very near him, and his own was + tempered by its presence. + </p> + <p> + “I would have you go back to the Thracian mountains,” he said. “I have + tried both, boy, and I can tell you that there is no pleasure which power + can bring which can equal the breath of the wind and the smell of the kine + upon a summer morning. Against you they have no quarrel. Why should they + mishandle you? Keep far from Rome and the Romans. Old Eudoxus has money, + and to spare. He awaits you with two horses outside the camp. Make for the + valley of the Harpessus, lad. It was thence that your father came, and + there you will find his kin. Buy and stock a homestead, and keep yourself + far from the paths of greatness and of danger. God keep you, Verus, and + send you safe to Thrace.” + </p> + <p> + When his son had kissed his hand and had left him, the Emperor drew his + robe around him and sat long in thought. In his slow brain he revolved the + past—his early peaceful days, his years with Severus, his memories + of Britain, his long campaigns, his strivings and battlings, all leading + to that mad night by the Rhine. His fellow soldiers had loved him then. + And now he had read death in their eyes. How had he failed them? Others he + might have wronged, but they at least had no complaint against him. If he + had his time again, he would think less of them and more of his people, he + would try to win love instead of fear, he would live for peace and not for + war. If he had his time again! But there were shuffling Steps, furtive + whispers, and the low rattle of arms outside his tent. A bearded face + looked in at him, a swarthy African face that he knew well. He laughed, + and, bearing his arm, he took his sword from the table beside him. + </p> + <p> + “It is you, Sulpicius,” said he. “You have not come to cry ‘Ave Imperator + Maximin!’ as once by the camp fire. You are tired of me, and by the gods I + am tired of you, and glad to be at the end of it. Come and have done with + it, for I am minded to see how many of you I can take with me when I go.” + </p> + <p> + They clustered at the door of the tent, peeping over each other’s + shoulders, and none wishing to be the first to close with that laughing, + mocking giant. But something was pushed forward upon a spear point, and as + he saw it, Maximin groaned and his sword sank to the earth. + </p> + <p> + “You might have spared the boy,” he sobbed. “He would not have hurt you. + Have done with it then, for I will gladly follow him.” + </p> + <p> + So they closed upon him and cut and stabbed and thrust, until his knees + gave way beneath him and he dropped upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + “The tyrant is dead!” they cried. “The tyrant is dead,” and from all the + camp beneath them and from the walls of the beleaguered city the joyous + cry came echoing back, “He is dead, Maximin is dead!” + </p> + <p> + I sit in my study, and upon the table before me lies a denarius of + Maximin, as fresh as when the triumvir of the Temple of Juno Moneta sent + it from the mint. Around it are recorded his resounding titles—Imperator + Maximinus, Pontifex Maximus, Tribunitia potestate, and the rest. In the + centre is the impress of a great craggy head, a massive jaw, a rude + fighting face, a contracted forehead. For all the pompous roll of titles + it is a peasant’s face, and I see him not as the Emperor of Rome, but as + the great Thracian boor who strode down the hillside on that far-distant + summer day when first the eagles beckoned him to Rome. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE COMING OF THE HUNS + </h2> + <p> + In the middle of the fourth century the state of the Christian religion + was a scandal and a disgrace. Patient, humble, and long-suffering in + adversity, it had become positive, aggressive, and unreasonable with + success. Paganism was not yet dead, but it was rapidly sinking, finding + its most faithful supporters among the conservative aristocrats of the + best families on the one hand, and among those benighted villagers on the + other who gave their name to the expiring creed. Between these two + extremes the great majority of reasonable men had turned from the + conception of many gods to that of one, and had rejected for ever the + beliefs of their forefathers. But with the vices of polytheism they had + also abandoned its virtues, among which toleration and religious good + humour had been conspicuous. The strenuous earnestness of the Christians + had compelled them to examine and define every point of their own + theology; but as they had no central authority by which such definitions + could be checked, it was not long before a hundred heresies had put + forward their rival views, while the same earnestness of conviction led + the stronger bands of schismatics to endeavour, for conscience sake, to + force their views upon the weaker, and thus to cover the Eastern world + with confusion and strife. + </p> + <p> + Alexandria, Antioch, and Constantinople were centres of theological + warfare. The whole north of Africa, too, was rent by the strife of the + Donatists, who upheld their particular schism by iron flails and the + war-cry of “Praise to the Lord!” But minor local controversies sank to + nothing when compared with the huge argument of the Catholic and the + Arian, which rent every village in twain, and divided every household from + the cottage to the palace. The rival doctrines of the Homoousian and of + the Homoiousian, containing metaphysical differences so attenuated that + they could hardly be stated, turned bishop against bishop and congregation + against congregation. The ink of the theologians and the blood of the + fanatics were spilled in floods on either side, and gentle followers of + Christ were horrified to find that their faith was responsible for such a + state of riot and bloodshed as had never yet disgraced the religious + history of the world. Many of the more earnest among them, shocked and + scandalized, slipped away to the Libyan Desert, or to the solitude of + Pontus, there to await in self-denial and prayer that second coming which + was supposed to be at hand. Even in the deserts they could not escape the + echo of the distant strife, and the hermits themselves scowled fiercely + from their dens at passing travellers who might be contaminated by the + doctrines of Athanasius or of Arius. + </p> + <p> + Such a hermit was Simon Melas, of whom I write. A Trinitarian and a + Catholic, he was shocked by the excesses of the persecution of the Arians, + which could be only matched by the similar outrages with which these same + Arians in the day of their power avenged their treatment on their brother + Christians. Weary of the whole strife, and convinced that the end of the + world was indeed at hand, he left his home in Constantinople and travelled + as far as the Gothic settlements in Dacia, beyond the Danube, in search of + some spot where he might be free from the never-ending disputes. Still + journeying to the north and east, he crossed the river which we now call + the Dneister, and there, finding a rocky hill rising from an immense + plain, he formed a cell near its summit, and settled himself down to end + his life in self-denial and meditation. There were fish in the stream, the + country teemed with game, and there was an abundance of wild fruits, so + that his spiritual exercises were not unduly interrupted by the search of + sustenance for his mortal frame. + </p> + <p> + In this distant retreat he expected to find absolute solitude, but the + hope was in vain. Within a week of his arrival, in an hour of worldly + curiosity, he explored the edges of the high rocky hill upon which he + lived. Making his way up to a cleft, which was hung with olives and + myrtles, he came upon a cave in the opening of which sat an aged man, + white-bearded, white-haired, and infirm—a hermit like himself. So + long had this stranger been alone that he had almost forgotten the use of + his tongue; but at last, words coming more freely, he was able to convey + the information that his name was Paul of Nicopolis, that he was a Greek + citizen, and that he also had come out into the desert for the saving of + his soul, and to escape from the contamination of heresy. + </p> + <p> + “Little I thought, brother Simon,” said he, “that I should ever find any + one else who had come so far upon the same holy errand. In all these + years, and they are so many that I have lost count of them, I have never + seen a man, save indeed one or two wandering shepherds far out upon yonder + plain.” + </p> + <p> + From where they sat, the huge steppe, covered with waving grass and + gleaming with a vivid green in the sun, stretched away as level and as + unbroken as the sea, to the eastern horizon. Simon Melas stared across it + with curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, brother Paul,” said he, “you who have lived here so long—what + lies at the further side of that plain?” + </p> + <p> + The old man shook his head. “There is no further side to the plain,” said + he. “It is the earth’s boundary, and stretches away to eternity. For all + these years I have sat beside it, but never once have I seen anything come + across it. It is manifest that if there had been a further side there + would certainly at some time have come some traveller from that direction. + Over the great river yonder is the Roman post of Tyras; but that is a long + day’s journey from here, and they have never disturbed my meditations.” + </p> + <p> + “On what do you meditate, brother Paul?” + </p> + <p> + “At first I meditated on many sacred mysteries; but now, for twenty years, + I have brooded continually on the nature of the Logos. What is your view + upon that vital matter, brother Simon?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” said the younger man, “there can be no question as to that. The + Logos is assuredly but a name used by St. John to signify the Deity.” + </p> + <p> + The old hermit gave a hoarse cry of fury, and his brown, withered face was + convulsed with anger. Seizing the huge cudgel which he kept to beat off + the wolves, he shook it murderously at his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Out with you! Out of my cell!” he cried. “Have I lived here so long to + have it polluted by a vile Trinitarian—a follower of the rascal + Athanasius? Wretched idolater, learn once for all, that the Logos is in + truth an emanation from the Deity, and in no sense equal or co-eternal + with Him! Out with you, I say, or I will dash out your brains with my + staff!” + </p> + <p> + It was useless to reason with the furious Arian, and Simon withdrew in + sadness and wonder, that at this extreme verge of the known earth the + spirit of religious strife should still break upon the peaceful solitude + of the wilderness. With hanging head and heavy heart he made his way down + the valley, and climbed up once more to his own cell, which lay at the + crown of the hill, with the intention of never again exchanging visits + with his Arian neighbour. + </p> + <p> + Here, for a year, dwelt Simon Melas, leading a life of solitude and + prayer. There was no reason why any one should ever come to this outermost + point of human habitation. Once a young Roman officer—Caius Crassus—rode + out a day’s journey from Tyras, and climbed the hill to have speech with + the anchorite. He was of an equestrian family, and still held his belief + in the old dispensation. He looked with interest and surprise, but also + with some disgust, at the ascetic arrangements of that humble abode. + </p> + <p> + “Whom do you please by living in such a fashion?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “We show that our spirit is superior to our flesh,” Simon answered. “If we + fare badly in this world, we believe that we shall reap an advantage in + the world to come.” + </p> + <p> + The centurion shrugged his shoulders. “There are philosophers among our + people, Stoics and others, who have the same idea. When I was in the + Herulian Cohort of the Fourth Legion we were quartered in Rome itself, and + I saw much of the Christians, but I could never learn anything from them + which I had not heard from my own father, whom you, in your arrogance, + would call a Pagan. It is true that we talk of numerous gods; but for many + years we have not taken them very seriously. Our thoughts upon virtue and + duty and a noble life are the same as your own.” + </p> + <p> + Simon Melas shook his head. + </p> + <p> + “If you have not the holy books,” said he, “then what guide have you to + direct your steps?” + </p> + <p> + “If you will read our philosophers, and above all the divine Plato, you + will find that there are other guides who may take you to the same end. + Have you by chance read the book which was written by our Emperor Marcus + Aurelius? Do you not discover there every virtue which man could have, + although he knew nothing of your creed? Have you considered, also, the + words and actions of our late Emperor Julian, with whom I served my first + campaign when he went out against the Persians? Where could you find a + more perfect man than he?” + </p> + <p> + “Such talk is unprofitable, and I will have no more of it,” said Simon, + sternly. “Take heed while there is time, and embrace the true faith; for + the end of the world is at hand, and when it comes there will be no mercy + for those who have shut their eyes to the light.” So saying, he turned + back once more to his praying-stool and to his crucifix, while the young + Roman walked in deep thought down the hill, and mounting his horse, rode + off to his distant post. Simon watched him until his brazen helmet was but + a bead of light on the western edge of the great plain; for this was the + first human face that he had seen in all this long year, and there were + times when his heart yearned for the voices and the faces of his kind. + </p> + <p> + So another year passed, and save for the chance of weather and the slow + change of the seasons, one day was as another. Every morning, when Simon + opened his eyes, he saw the same grey line ripening into red in the + furthest east, until the bright rim pushed itself above that far-off + horizon across which no living creature had ever been known to come. + Slowly the sun swept across the huge arch of the heavens, and as the + shadows shifted from the black rocks which jutted upward from above his + cell, so did the hermit regulate his terms of prayer and meditation. There + was nothing on earth to draw his eye, or to distract his mind, for the + grassy plain below was as void from month to month as the heaven above. So + the long hours passed, until the red rim slipped down on the further side, + and the day ended in the same pearl-grey shimmer with which it had begun. + Once two ravens circled for some days round the lonely hill, and once a + white fish-eagle came from the Dneister and screamed above the hermit’s + head. Sometimes red dots were seen on the green plain where the antelopes + grazed, and often a wolf howled in the darkness from the base of the + rocks. Such was the uneventful life of Simon Melas the anchorite, until + there came the day of wrath. + </p> + <p> + It was in the late spring of the year 375 that Simon came out from his + cell, his gourd in his hand, to draw water from the spring. Darkness had + closed in, the sun had set, but one last glimmer of rosy light rested upon + a rocky peak, which jutted forth from the hill, on the further side from + the hermit’s dwelling. As Simon came forth from under his ledge, the gourd + dropped from his hand, and he stood gazing in amazement. + </p> + <p> + On the opposite peak a man was standing, his outline black in the fading + light. He was a strange almost a deformed figure, short-statured, + round-backed, with a large head, no neck, and a long rod jutting out from + between his shoulders. He stood with his face advanced, and his body bent, + peering very intently over the plain to the westward. In a moment he was + gone, and the lonely black peak showed up hard and naked against the faint + eastern glimmer. Then the night closed down, and all was black once more. + </p> + <p> + Simon Melas stood long in bewilderment, wondering who this stranger could + be. He had heard, as had every Christian, of those evil spirits which were + wont to haunt the hermits in the Thebaid and on the skirts of the + Ethiopian waste. The strange shape of this solitary creature, its dark + outline and prowling, intent attitude, suggestive rather of a fierce, + rapacious beast than of a man, all helped him to believe that he had at + last encountered one of those wanderers from the pit, of whose existence, + in those days of robust faith, he had no more doubt than of his own. Much + of the night he spent in prayer, his eyes glancing continually at the low + arch of his cell door, with its curtain of deep purple wrought with stars. + At any instant some crouching monster, some homed abomination, might peer + in upon him; and he clung with frenzied appeal to his crucifix, as his + human weakness quailed at the thought. But at last his fatigue overcame + his fears, and falling upon his couch of dried grass, he slept until the + bright daylight brought him to his senses. + </p> + <p> + It was later than was his wont, and the sun was far above the horizon. As + he came forth from his cell, he looked across at the peak of rock, but it + stood there bare and silent. Already it seemed to him that that strange + dark figure which had startled him so was some dream, some vision of the + twilight. His gourd lay where it had fallen, and he picked it up with the + intention of going to the spring. But suddenly he was aware of something + new. The whole air was throbbing with sound. From all sides it came, + rumbling, indefinite, an inarticulate mutter, low, but thick and strong, + rising, falling, reverberating among the rocks, dying away into vague + whispers, but always there. He looked round at the blue, cloudless sky in + bewilderment. Then he scrambled up the rocky pinnacle above him, and + sheltering himself in its shadow, he stared out over the plain. In his + wildest dream he had never imagined such a sight. + </p> + <p> + The whole vast expanse was covered with horse-men, hundreds and thousands + and tens of thousands, all riding slowly and in silence, out of the + unknown east. It was the multitudinous beat of their horses’ hoofs which + caused that low throbbing in his ears. Some were so close to him as he + looked down upon them that he could see clearly their thin wiry horses, + and the strange humped figures of the swarthy riders, sitting forward on + the withers, shapeless bundles, their short legs hanging stirrupless, + their bodies balanced as firmly as though they were part of the beast. In + those nearest he could see the bow and the quiver, the long spear and the + short sword, with the coiled lasso behind the rider, which told that this + was no helpless horde of wanderers, but a formidable army upon the march. + His eyes passed on from them and swept further and further, but still to + the very horizon, which quivered with movement, there was no end to this + monstrous cavalry. Already the vanguard was far past the island of rock + upon which he dwelt, and he could now understand that in front of this + vanguard were single scouts who guided the course of the army, and that it + was one of these whom he had seen the evening before. + </p> + <p> + All day, held spell-bound by this wonderful sight, the hermit crouched in + the shadow of the rocks, and all day the sea of horsemen rolled onward + over the plain beneath. Simon had seen the swarming quays of Alexandria, + he had watched the mob which blocked the hippodrome of Constantinople, yet + never had he imagined such a multitude as now defiled beneath his eyes, + coming from that eastern skyline which had been the end of his world. + Sometimes the dense streams of horsemen were broken by droves of + brood-mares and foals, driven along by mounted guards; sometimes there + were herds of cattle; sometimes there were lines of waggons with skin + canopies above them; but then once more, after every break, came the + horsemen, the horsemen, the hundreds and the thousands and the tens of + thousands, slowly, ceaselessly, silently drifting from the east to the + west. The long day passed, the light waned, and the shadows fell; but + still the great broad stream was flowing by. + </p> + <p> + But the night brought a new and even stranger sight. Simon had marked + bundles of faggots upon the backs of many of the led horses, and now he + saw their use. All over the great plain, red pin-points gleamed through + the darkness, which grew and brightened into flickering columns of flame. + So far as he could see both to east and west the fires extended, until + they were but points of light in the furthest distance. White stars shone + in the vast heavens above, red ones in the great plain below. And from + every side rose the low, confused murmur of voices, with the lowing of + oxen and the neighing of horses. + </p> + <p> + Simon had been a soldier and a man of affairs before ever he forsook the + world, and the meaning of all that he had seen was clear to him. History + told him how the Roman world had ever been assailed by fresh swarms of + Barbarians, coming from the outer darkness, and that the Eastern Empire + had already, in its fifty years of existence since Constantine had moved + the capital of the world to the shores of the Bosphorus, been tormented in + the same way. Gepidae and Heruli, Ostrogoths and Sarmatians, he was + familiar with them all. What the advanced sentinel of Europe had seen from + this lonely outlying hill, was a fresh swarm breaking in upon the Empire, + distinguished only from the others by its enormous, incredible size and by + the strange aspect of the warriors who composed it. He alone of all + civilized men knew of the approach of this dreadful shadow, sweeping like + a heavy storm-cloud from the unknown depths of the east. He thought of the + little Roman posts along the Dneister, of the ruined Dacian wall of Trajan + behind them, and then of the scattered, defenceless villages which lay + with no thought of danger over all the open country which stretched down + to the Danube. Could he but give them the alarm! Was it not, perhaps, for + that very end that God had guided him to the wilderness? + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly he remembered his Arian neighbour, who dwelt in the cave + beneath him. Once or twice during the last year he had caught a glimpse of + his tall, bent figure hobbling round to examine the traps which he laid + for quails and partridges. On one occasion they had met at the brook; but + the old theologian waved him away, as if he were a leper. What did he + think now of this strange happening? Surely their differences might be + forgotten at such a moment. He stole down the side of the hill, and made + his way to his fellow-hermit’s cave. + </p> + <p> + But there was a terrible silence as he approached it. His heart sank at + that deadly stillness in the little valley. No glimmer of light came from + the cleft in the rocks. He entered and called, but no answer came back. + Then, with flint, steel, and the dry grass which he used for tinder, he + struck a spark, and blew it into a blaze. The old hermit, his white hair + dabbled with crimson, lay sprawling across the floor. The broken crucifix, + with which his head had been beaten in, lay in splinters across him. Simon + had dropped on his knees beside him, straightening his contorted limbs, + and muttering the office for the dead, when the thud of a horse’s hoofs + was heard ascending the little valley which led to the hermit’s cell. The + dry grass had burned down, and Simon crouched trembling in the darkness, + pattering prayers to the Virgin that his strength might be upheld. + </p> + <p> + It may have been that the newcomer had seen the gleam of the light, or it + may have been that he had heard from his comrades of the old man whom they + had murdered, and that his curiosity had led him to the spot. He stopped + his horse outside the cave, and Simon, lurking in the shadows within, had + a fair view of him in the moonlight. He slipped from his saddle, fastened + the bridle to a root, and then stood peering through the opening of the + cell. He was a very short, thick man, with a dark face, which was gashed + with three cuts upon either side. His small eyes were sunk deep in his + head, showing like black holes in the heavy, flat, hairless face. His legs + were short and very bandy, so that he waddled uncouthly as he walked. + </p> + <p> + Simon crouched in the darkest angle, and he gripped in his hand that same + knotted cudgel which the dead theologian had once raised against him. As + that hideous stooping head advanced into the darkness of the cell, he + brought the staff down upon it with all the strength of his right arm, and + then, as the stricken savage fell forward upon his face, he struck madly + again and again, until the shapeless figure lay limp and still. One roof + covered the first slain of Europe and of Asia. + </p> + <p> + Simon’s veins were throbbing and quivering with the unwonted joy of + action. All the energy stored up in those years of repose came in a flood + at this moment of need. Standing in the darkness of the cell, he saw, as + in a map of fire, the outlines of the great Barbaric host, the line of the + river, the position of the settlements, the means by which they might be + warned. Silently he waited in the shadow until the moon had sunk. Then he + flung himself upon the dead man’s horse, guided it down the gorge, and set + forth at a gallop across the plain. + </p> + <p> + There were fires on every side of him, but he kept clear of the rings of + light. Round each he could see, as he passed, the circle of sleeping + warriors, with the long lines of picketed horses. Mile after mile and + league after league stretched that huge encampment. And then, at last, he + had reached the open plain which led to the river, and the fires of the + invaders were but a dull smoulder against the black eastern sky. Ever + faster and faster he sped across the steppe, like a single fluttered leaf + which whirls before the storm. Even as the dawn whitened the sky behind + him, it gleamed also upon the broad river in front, and he flogged his + weary horse through the shallows, until he plunged into its full yellow + tide. + </p> + <p> + So it was that, as the young Roman centurion—Caius Crassus—made + his morning round in the fort of Tyras he saw a single horseman, who rode + towards him from the river. Weary and spent, drenched with water and caked + with dirt and sweat, both horse and man were at the last stage of their + endurance. With amazement the Roman watched their progress, and recognized + in the ragged, swaying figure, with flying hair and staring eyes, the + hermit of the eastern desert. He ran to meet him, and caught him in his + arms as he reeled from the saddle. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, then?” he asked. “What is your news?” + </p> + <p> + But the hermit could only point at the rising sun. “To arms!” he croaked. + “To arms! The day of wrath is come!” And as he looked, the Roman saw—far + across the river—a great dark shadow, which moved slowly over the + distant plain. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS + </h2> + <p> + Pontus, the Roman viceroy, sat in the atrium of his palatial villa by the + Thames, and he looked with perplexity at the scroll of papyrus which he + had just unrolled. Before him stood the messenger who had brought it, a + swarthy little Italian, whose black eyes were glazed with want of sleep, + and his olive features darker still from dust and sweat. The viceroy was + looking fixedly at him, yet he saw him not, so full was his mind of this + sudden and most unexpected order. To him it seemed as if the solid earth + had given way beneath his feet. His life and the work of his life had come + to irremediable ruin. + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” he said at last in a hard dry voice, “you can go.” + </p> + <p> + The man saluted and staggered out of the hall. + </p> + <p> + A yellow-haired British major-domo came forward for orders. + </p> + <p> + “Is the General there?” + </p> + <p> + “He is waiting, your excellency.” + </p> + <p> + “Then show him in, and leave us together.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later Licinius Crassus, the head of the British military + establishment, had joined his chief. He was a large bearded man in a white + civilian toga, hemmed with the Patrician purple. His rough, bold features, + burned and seamed and lined with the long African wars, were shadowed with + anxiety as he looked with questioning eyes at the drawn, haggard face of + the viceroy. + </p> + <p> + “I fear, your excellency, that you have had bad news from Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “The worst, Crassus. It is all over with Britain. It is a question whether + even Gaul will be held.” + </p> + <p> + “Saint Albus save us! Are the orders precise?” + </p> + <p> + “Here they are, with the Emperor’s own seal.” + </p> + <p> + “But why? I had heard a rumour, but it had seemed too incredible.” + </p> + <p> + “So had I only last week, and had the fellow scourged for having spread + it. But here it is as clear as words can make it: ‘Bring every man of the + Legions by forced marches to the help of the Empire. Leave not a cohort in + Britain.’ These are my orders.” + </p> + <p> + “But the cause?” + </p> + <p> + “They will let the limbs wither so that the heart be stronger. The old + German hive is about to swarm once more. There are fresh crowds of + Barbarians from Dacia and Scythia. Every sword is needed to hold the + Alpine passes. They cannot let three legions lie idle in Britain.” + </p> + <p> + The soldier shrugged his shoulder’s. + </p> + <p> + “When the legions go no Roman would feel that his life was safe here. For + all that we have done, it is none the less the truth that it is no country + of ours, and that we hold it as we won it by the sword.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, every man, woman, and child of Latin blood must come with us to + Gaul. The galleys are already waiting at Portus Dubris. Get the orders + out, Crassus, at once. As the Valerian legion falls back from the Wall of + Hadrian it can take the northern colonists with it. The Jovians can bring + in the people from the west, and the Batavians can escort the easterns if + they will muster at Camboricum. You will see to it.” He sank his face for + a moment in his hands. “It is a fearsome thing,” said he, “to tear up the + roots of so goodly a tree.” + </p> + <p> + “To make more space for such a crop of weeds,” said the soldier bitterly. + “My God, what will be the end of these poor Britons! From ocean to ocean + there is not a tribe which will not be at the throat of its neighbour when + the last Roman Lictor has turned his back. With these hot-headed Silures + it is hard enough now to keep the swords in their sheaths.” + </p> + <p> + “The kennel might fight as they chose among themselves until the best + hound won,” said the Roman Governor. “At least the victor would keep the + arts and the religion which we have brought them, and Britain would be one + land. No, it is the bear from the north and the wolves from oversea, the + painted savage from beyond the walls and the Saxon pirate from over the + water, who will succeed to our rule. Where we saved, they will slay; where + we built, they will burn; where we planted, they will ravage. But the die + is cast, Crassus. You will carry out the orders.” + </p> + <p> + “I will send out the messengers within an hour. This very morning there + has come news that the Barbarians are through the old gap in the wall, and + their outriders as far south as Vinovia.” The Governor shrugged his + shoulders. “These things concern us no longer,” said he. Then a bitter + smile broke upon his aquiline clean-shaven face. “Whom think you that I + see in audience this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I know not.” + </p> + <p> + “Caradoc and Regnus, and Celticus the Icenian, who, like so many of the + richer Britons, have been educated at Rome, and who would lay before me + their plans as to the ruling of this country.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is their plan?” + </p> + <p> + “That they themselves should do it.” The Roman soldier laughed. “Well, + they will have their will,” said he, as he saluted and turned upon his + heel. “Farewell, your excellency. There are hard days coming for you and + for me.” + </p> + <p> + An hour later the British deputation was ushered into the presence of the + Governor. They were good steadfast men, men who with a whole heart, and at + some risk to themselves, had taken up their country’s cause, so far as + they could see it. At the same time, they well knew that under the mild + and beneficent rule of Rome it was only when they passed from words to + deeds that their backs or their necks would be in danger. They stood now, + earnest and a little abashed, before the throne of the viceroy. Celticus + was a swarthy black-bearded little Iberian. Caradoc and Regnus were tall + middle-aged men of the fair flaxen British type. All three were dressed in + the draped yellow toga after the Latin fashion, instead of in the bracae + and tunic which distinguished their more insular fellow-countrymen. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” asked the Governor. + </p> + <p> + “We are here,” said Celticus boldly, “as the spokesmen of a great number + of our fellow-countrymen, for the purpose of sending our petition through + you to the Emperor and to the Roman Senate, that we may urge upon them the + policy of allowing us to govern this country after our own ancient + fashion.” He paused, as if awaiting some outburst as an answer to his own + temerity; but the Governor merely nodded his head as a sign that he should + proceed. “We had laws of our own before ever Caesar set foot in Britain, + which have served their purpose since first our forefathers came from the + land of Ham. We are not a child among the nations, but our history goes + back in our own traditions—further even than that of Rome, and we + are galled by this yoke which you have laid upon us.” + </p> + <p> + “Are not our laws just?” asked the Governor. + </p> + <p> + “The code of Caesar is just, but it is always the code of Caesar. Our own + laws were made for our own uses and our own circumstances, and we would + fain have them again.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak Roman as if you had been bred in the Forum; you wear a Roman + toga; your hair is filleted in Roman fashion—are not these the gifts + of Rome?” + </p> + <p> + “We would take all the learning and all the arts that Rome or Greece could + give, but we would still be Britain, and ruled by Britons.” + </p> + <p> + The viceroy smiled. “By the rood of Saint Helena,” said he, “had you + spoken thus to some of my heathen ancestors, there would have been an end + to your politics. That you have dared to stand before my face and say as + much is a proof for ever of the gentleness of our rule. But I would reason + with you for a moment upon this your request. You know well that this land + has never been one kingdom, but was always under many chiefs and many + tribes, who have made war upon each other. Would you in very truth have it + so again?” + </p> + <p> + “Those were in the evil pagan days, the days of the Druid and the + oak-grove, your excellency. But now we are held together by a gospel of + peace.” + </p> + <p> + The viceroy shook his head. “If all the world were of the same way of + thinking, then it would be easier,” said he. “It may be that this blessed + doctrine of peace will be little help to you when you are face to face + with strong men who still worship the god of war. What would you do + against the Picts of the north?” + </p> + <p> + “Your excellency knows that many of the bravest legionaries are of British + blood. These are our defence.” + </p> + <p> + “But discipline, man, the power to command, the knowledge of war, the + strength to act—it is in these things that you would fail. Too long + have you leaned upon the crutch.” + </p> + <p> + “The times may be hard, but when we have gone through them, Britain will + be herself again.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, she will be under a different and a harsher master,” said the Roman. + “Already the pirates swarm upon the eastern coast. Were it not for our + Roman Count of the Saxon shore they would land tomorrow. I see the day + when Britain may, indeed, be one; but that will be because you and your + fellows are either dead or are driven into the mountains of the west. All + goes into the melting-pot, and if a better Albion should come forth from + it, it will be after ages of strife, and neither you nor your people will + have part or lot in it.” + </p> + <p> + Regnus, the tall young Celt, smiled. “With the help of God and our own + right arms we should hope for a better end,” said he. “Give us but the + chance, and we will bear the brunt.” + </p> + <p> + “You are as men that are lost,” said the viceroy sadly. “I see this broad + land, with its gardens and orchards, its fair villas and its walled towns, + its bridges and its roads, all the work of Rome. Surely it will pass even + as a dream, and these three hundred years of settled order will leave no + trace behind. For learn that it will indeed be as you wish, and that this + very day the orders have come to me that the legions are to go.” + </p> + <p> + The three Britons looked at each other in amazement. Their first impulse + was towards a wild exultation, but reflection and doubt followed close + upon its heels. + </p> + <p> + “This is indeed wondrous news,” said Celticus. “This is a day of days to + the motherland. When do the legions go, your excellency, and what troops + will remain behind for our protection?” + </p> + <p> + “The legions go at once,” said the viceroy. “You will doubtless rejoice to + hear that within a month there will be no Roman soldier in the island, + nor, indeed, a Roman of any sort, age, or sex, if I can take them with + me.” + </p> + <p> + The faces of the Britons were shadowed, and Caradoc, a grave and + thoughtful man, spoke for the first time. + </p> + <p> + “But this is over sudden, your excellency,” said he. “There is much truth + in what you have said about the pirates. From my villa near the fort of + Anderida I saw eighty of their galleys only last week, and I know well + that they would be on us like ravens on a dying ox. For many years to come + it would not be possible for us to hold them off.” + </p> + <p> + The viceroy shrugged his shoulders. “It is your affair now,” said he. + “Rome must look to herself.” + </p> + <p> + The last traces of joy had passed from the faces of the Britons. Suddenly + the future had started up clearly before them, and they quailed at the + prospect. + </p> + <p> + “There is a rumour in the market-place,” said Celticus, “that the northern + Barbarians are through the gap in the wall. Who is to stop their + progress?” + </p> + <p> + “You and your fellows,” said the Roman. + </p> + <p> + Clearer still grew the future, and there was terror in the eyes of the + spokesmen as they faced it. + </p> + <p> + “But, your excellency, if the legions should go at once, we should have + the wild Scots at York, and the Northmen in the Thames within the month. + We can build ourselves up under your shield, and in a few years it would + be easier for us; but not now, your excellency, not now.” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, man; for years you have been clamouring in our ears and raising the + people. Now you have got what you asked. What more would you have? Within + the month you will be as free as were your ancestors before Caesar set + foot upon your shore.” + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake, your excellency, put our words out of your head. The + matter had not been well considered. We will send to Rome. We will ride + post-haste ourselves. We will fall at the Emperor’s feet. We will kneel + before the Senate and beg that the legions remain.” + </p> + <p> + The Roman proconsul rose from his chair and motioned that the audience was + at an end. + </p> + <p> + “You will do what you please,” said he. “I and my men are for Italy.” + </p> + <p> + And even as he said, so was it, for before the spring had ripened into + summer, the troops were clanking down the via Aurelia on their way to the + Ligurian passes, whilst every road in Gaul was dotted with the carts and + the waggons which bore the Brito-Roman refugees on their weary journey to + their distant country. But ere another summer had passed Celticus was + dead, for he was flayed alive by the pirates and his skin nailed upon the + door of a church near Caistor. Regnus, too, was dead, for he was tied to a + tree and shot with arrows when the painted men came to the sacking of + Isca. Caradoc only was alive, but he was a slave to Elda the red + Caledonian, and his wife was mistress to Mordred the wild chief of the + western Cymri. From the ruined wall in the north to Vectis in the south + blood and ruin and ashes covered the fair land of Britain. And after many + days it came out fairer than ever, but, even as the Roman had said, + neither the Britons nor any men of their blood came into the heritage of + that which had been their own. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE FIRST CARGO + </h2> + <p> + “Ex ovo omnia” + </p> + <p> + When you left Briton with your legion, my dear Crassus, I promised that I + would write to you from time to time when a messenger chanced to be going + to Rome, and keep you informed as to anything of interest which might + occur in this country. Personally, I am very glad that I remained behind + when the troops and so many of our citizens left, for though the living is + rough and the climate is infernal, still by dint of the three voyages + which I have made for amber to the Baltic, and the excellent prices which + I obtained for it here, I shall soon be in a position to retire, and to + spend my old age under my own fig tree, or even perhaps to buy a small + villa at Baiae or Posuoli, where I could get a good sun-bath after the + continued fogs of this accursed island. I picture myself on a little farm, + and I read the Georgics as a preparation; but when I hear the rain falling + and the wind howling, Italy seems very far away. + </p> + <p> + In my previous letter, I let you know how things were going in this + country. The poor folk, who had given up all soldiering during the + centuries that we guarded them, are now perfectly helpless before these + Picts and Scots, tattoed Barbarians from the north, who overrun the whole + country and do exactly what they please. So long as they kept to the + north, the people in the south, who are the most numerous, and also the + most civilized of the Britons, took no heed of them; but now the rascals + have come as far as London, and the lazy folk in these parts have had to + wake up. Vortigern, the king, is useless for anything but drink or women, + so he sent across to the Baltic to get over some of the North Germans, in + the hope that they would come and help him. It is bad enough to have a + bear in your house, but it does not seem to me to mend matters if you call + in a pack of ferocious wolves as well. However, nothing better could be + devised, so an invitation was sent and very promptly accepted. And it is + here that your humble friend appears upon the scene. In the course of my + amber trading I had learned the Saxon speech, and so I was sent down in + all haste to the Kentish shore that I might be there when our new allies + came. I arrived there on the very day when their first vessel appeared, + and it is of my adventures that I wish to tell you. It is perfectly clear + to me that the landing of these warlike Germans in England will prove to + be an event of historical importance, and so your inquisitive mind will + not feel wearied if I treat the matter in some detail. + </p> + <p> + It was, then, upon the day of Mercury, immediately following the Feast of + Our Blessed Lord’s Ascension, that I found myself upon the south bank of + the river Thames, at the point where it opens into a wide estuary. There + is an island there named Thanet, which was the spot chosen for the + landfall of our visitors. Sure enough, I had no sooner ridden up than + there was a great red ship, the first as it seems of three, coming in + under full sail. The white horse, which is the ensign of these rovers, was + hanging from her topmast, and she appeared to be crowded with men. The sun + was shining brightly, and the great scarlet ship, with snow-white sails + and a line of gleaming shields slung over her side, made as fair a picture + on that blue expanse as one would wish to see. + </p> + <p> + I pushed off at once in a boat, because it had been arranged that none of + the Saxons should land until the king had come down to speak with their + leaders. Presently I was under the ship, which had a gilded dragon in the + bows, and a tier of oars along either side. As I looked up, there was a + row of helmeted heads looking down at me, and among them I saw, to my + great surprise and pleasure, that of Eric the Swart, with whom I do + business at Venta every year. He greeted me heartily when I reached the + deck, and became at once my guide, friend, and counsellor. This helped me + greatly with these Barbarians, for it is their nature that they are very + cold and aloof unless one of their own number can vouch for you, after + which they are very hearty and hospitable. Try as they will, they find it + hard, however, to avoid a certain suggestion of condescension, and in the + baser sort, of contempt, when they are dealing with a foreigner. + </p> + <p> + It was a great stroke of luck meeting Eric, for he was able to give me + some idea of how things stood before I was shown into the presence of + Kenna, the leader of this particular ship. The crew, as I learned from + him, was entirely made up of three tribes or families—those of + Kenna, of Lanc, and of Hasta. Each of these tribes gets its name by + putting the letters “ing” after the name of the chief, so that the people + on board would describe themselves as Kennings, Lancings, and Hastings. I + observed in the Baltic that the villages were named after the family who + lived in them, each keeping to itself, so that I have no doubt if these + fellows get a footing on shore, we shall see settlements with names like + these rising up among the British towns. + </p> + <p> + The greater part of the men were sturdy fellows with red, yellow, or brown + hair, mostly the latter. To my surprise, I saw several women among them. + Eric, in answer to my question, explained that they always take their + women with them so far as they can, and that instead of finding them an + incumbrance as our Roman dames would be, they look upon them as helpmates + and advisers. Of course, I remembered afterwards that our excellent and + accurate Tacitus has remarked upon this characteristic of the Germans. All + laws in the tribes are decided by votes, and a vote has not yet been given + to the women, but many are in favour of it, and it is thought that woman + and man may soon have the same power in the State, though many of the + women themselves are opposed to such an innovation. I observed to Eric + that it was fortunate there were several women on board, as they could + keep each other company; but he answered that the wives of chiefs had no + desire to know the wives of the inferior officers, and that both of them + combined against the more common women, so that any companionship was out + of the question. He pointed as he spoke to Editha, the wife of Kenna, a + red-faced, elderly woman, who walked among the others, her chin in the + air, taking no more notice than if they did not exist. + </p> + <p> + Whilst I was talking to my friend Eric, a sudden altercation broke out + upon the deck, and a great number of the men paused in their work, and + flocked towards the spot with faces which showed that they were deeply + interested in the matter. Eric and I pushed our way among the others, for + I was very anxious to see as much as I could of the ways and manners of + these Barbarians. A quarrel had broken out about a child, a little + blue-eyed fellow with curly yellow hair, who appeared to be greatly amused + by the hubbub of which he was the cause. On one side of him stood a + white-bearded old man, of very majestic aspect, who signified by his + gestures that he claimed the lad for himself, while on the other was a + thin, earnest, anxious person, who strongly objected to the boy being + taken from him. Eric whispered in my ear that the old man was the tribal + high priest, who was the official sacrificer to their great god Woden, + whilst the other was a man who took somewhat different views, not upon + Woden, but upon the means by which he should be worshipped. The majority + of the crew were on the side of the old priest; but a certain number, who + liked greater liberty of worship, and to invent their own prayers instead + of always repeating the official ones, followed the lead of the younger + man. The difference was too deep and too old to be healed among the grown + men, but each had a great desire to impress their view upon the children. + This was the reason why these two were now so furious with each other, and + the argument between them ran so high that several of their followers on + either side had drawn the short saxes, or knives from which their name of + Saxon is derived, when a burly, red-headed man pushed his way through the + throng, and in a voice of thunder brought the controversy to an end. + </p> + <p> + “You priests, who argue about the things which no man can know, are more + trouble aboard this ship than all the dangers of the sea,” he cried. “Can + you not be content with worshipping Woden, over which we are all agreed, + and not make so much of those small points upon which we may differ? If + there is all this fuss about the teaching of the children, then I shall + forbid either of you to teach them, and they must be content with as much + as they can learn from their mothers.” + </p> + <p> + The two angry teachers walked away with discontented faces; and Kenna—for + it was he who spoke—ordered that a whistle should be sounded, and + that the crew should assemble. I was pleased with the free bearing of + these people, for though this was their greatest chief, they showed none + of the exaggerated respect which soldiers of a legion might show to the + Praetor, but met him on a respectful equality, which showed how highly + they rated their own manhood. + </p> + <p> + From our Roman standard, his remarks to his men would seem very wanting in + eloquence, for there were no graces nor metaphors to be found in them, and + yet they were short, strong and to the point. At any rate it was very + clear that they were to the minds of his hearers. He began by reminding + them that they had left their own country because the land was all taken + up, and that there was no use returning there, since there was no place + where they could dwell as free and independent men. This island of Britain + was but sparsely inhabited, and there was a chance that every one of them + would be able to found a home of his own. + </p> + <p> + “You, Whitta,” he said, addressing some of them by name, “you will found a + Whitting hame, and you, Bucka, we shall see you in a Bucking hame, where + your children, and your children’s children will bless you for the broad + acres which your valour will have gained for them.” There was no word of + glory or of honour in his speech, but he said that he was aware that they + would do their duty, on which they all struck their swords upon their + shields so that the Britons on the beach could hear the clang. Then, his + eyes falling upon me, he asked me whether I was the messenger from + Vortigern, and on my answering, he bid me follow him into his cabin, where + Lanc and Hasta the other chiefs were waiting for a council. + </p> + <p> + Picture me, then, my dear Crassus, in a very low-roofed cabin, with these + three huge Barbarians seated round me. Each was clad in some sort of + saffron tunic, with chain-mail shirts over it, and helmets with the horns + of oxen on either side, laid upon the table before them. Like most of the + Saxon chiefs, their beards were shaved, but they wore their hair long and + their huge light-coloured moustaches drooped down on to their shoulders. + They are gentle, slow, and somewhat heavy in their bearing, but I can well + fancy that their fury is the more terrible when it does arise. + </p> + <p> + Their minds seem to be of a very practical and positive nature, for they + at once began to ask me a series of questions upon the numbers of the + Britons, the resources of the kingdom, the conditions of its trade, and + other such subjects. They then set to work arguing over the information + which I had given, and became so absorbed in their own contention that I + believe there were times when they forgot my presence. Everything, after + due discussion, was decided between them by vote, the one who found + himself in the minority always submitting, though sometimes with a very + bad grace. Indeed, on one occasion Lanc, who usually differed from the + others, threatened to refer the matter to the general vote of the whole + crew. There was a constant conflict in the point of view; for whereas + Kenna and Hasta were anxious to extend the Saxon power, and to make it + greater in the eyes of the world, Lanc was of opinion that they should + give less thought to conquest and more to the comfort and advancement of + their followers. At the same time it seemed to me that really Lanc was the + more combative of the three; so much so that, even in time of peace, he + could not forego this contest with his own brethren. Neither of the others + seemed very fond of him, for they were each, as was easy to see, proud of + their chieftainship, and anxious to use their authority, referring + continually to those noble ancestors from whom it was derived; while Lanc, + though he was equally well born, took the view of the common men upon + every occasion, claiming that the interests of the many were superior to + the privileges of the few. In a word, Crassus, if you could imagine a + free-booting Gracchus on one side, and two piratical Patricians upon the + other, you would understand the effect which my companions produced upon + me. + </p> + <p> + There was one peculiarity which I observed in their conversation which + soothed me very much. I am fond of these Britons, among whom I have spent + so much of my life, and I wish them well. It was very pleasing, therefore, + to notice that these men insisted upon it in their conversation that the + whole object of their visit was the good of the Islanders. Any prospect of + advantage to themselves was pushed into the background. I was not clear + that these professions could be made to agree with the speech in which + Kenna had promised a hundred hides of land to every man on the ship; but + on my making this remark, the three chiefs seemed very surprised and hurt + by my suspicions, and explained very plausibly that, as the Britons needed + them as a guard, they could not aid them better than by settling on the + soil, and so being continually at hand in order to help them. In time, + they said, they hoped to raise and train the natives to such a point that + they would be able to look after themselves. Lanc spoke with some degree + of eloquence upon the nobleness of the mission which they had undertaken, + and the others clattered their cups of mead (a jar of that unpleasant + drink was on the table) in token of their agreement. + </p> + <p> + I observed also how much interested, and how very earnest and intolerant + these Barbarians were in the matter of religion. Of Christianity they knew + nothing, so that although they were aware that the Britons were + Christians, they had not a notion of what their creed really was. Yet + without examination they started by taking it for granted that their own + worship of Woden was absolutely right, and that therefore this other creed + must be absolutely wrong. “This vile religion,” “This sad superstition,” + and “This grievous error,” were among the phrases which they used towards + it. Instead of expressing pity for any one who had been misinformed upon + so serious a question, their feelings were those of anger, and they + declared most earnestly that they would spare no pains to set the matter + right, fingering the hilts of their long broad-swords as they said so. + </p> + <p> + Well, my dear Crassus, you will have had enough of me and of my Saxons. I + have given you a short sketch of these people and their ways. Since I + began this letter, I have visited the two other ships which have come in, + and as I find the same characteristics among the people on board them, I + cannot doubt that they lie deeply in the race. For the rest, they are + brave, hardy, and very pertinacious in all that they undertake; whereas + the Britons, though a great deal more spirited, have not the same + steadiness of purpose, their quicker imaginations suggesting always some + other course, and their more fiery passions being succeeded by reaction. + When I looked from the deck of the first Saxon ship, and saw the swaying + excited multitude of Britons on the beach, contrasting them with the + intent, silent men who stood beside me, it seemed to me more than ever + dangerous to call in such allies. So strongly did I feel it that I turned + to Kenna, who was also looking towards the beach. + </p> + <p> + “You will own this island before you have finished,” said I. + </p> + <p> + His eyes sparkled as he gazed. “Perhaps,” he cried; and then suddenly + collecting himself and thinking that he had said too much, he added— + </p> + <p> + “A temporary occupation—nothing more.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE HOME-COMING + </h2> + <p> + In the spring of the year 528, a small brig used to run as a passenger + boat between Chalcedon on the Asiatic shore and Constantinople. On the + morning in question, which was that of the feast of Saint George, the + vessel was crowded with excursionists who were bound for the great city in + order to take part in the religious and festive celebrations which marked + the festival of the Megalo-martyr, one of the most choice occasions in the + whole vast hagiology of the Eastern Church. The day was fine and the + breeze light, so that the passengers in their holiday mood were able to + enjoy without a qualm the many objects of interest which marked the + approach to the greatest and most beautiful capital in the world. + </p> + <p> + On the right, as they sped up the narrow strait, there stretched the + Asiatic shore, sprinkled with white villages and with numerous villas + peeping out from the woods which adorned it. In front of them, the + Prince’s Islands, rising as green as emeralds out of the deep sapphire + blue of the Sea of Marmora, obscured for the moment the view of the + capital. As the brig rounded these, the great city burst suddenly upon + their sight, and a murmur of admiration and wonder rose from the crowded + deck. Tier above tier it rose, white and glittering, a hundred brazen + roofs and gilded statues gleaming in the sun, with high over all the + magnificent shining cupola of Saint Sophia. Seen against a cloudless sky, + it was the city of a dream-too delicate, too airily lovely for earth. + </p> + <p> + In the prow of the small vessel were two travellers of singular + appearance. The one was a very beautiful boy, ten or twelve years of age, + swarthy, clear-cut, with dark, curling hair and vivacious black eyes, full + of intelligence and of the joy of living. The other was an elderly man, + gaunt-faced and grey-bearded, whose stern features were lit up by a smile + as he observed the excitement and interest with which his young companion + viewed the beautiful distant city and the many vessels which thronged the + narrow strait. + </p> + <p> + “See! see!” cried the lad. “Look at the great red ships which sail out + from yonder harbour. Surely, your holiness, they are the greatest of all + ships in the world.” + </p> + <p> + The old man, who was the abbot of the monastery of Saint Nicephorus in + Antioch, laid his hand upon the boy’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Be wary, Leon, and speak less loudly, for until we have seen your mother + we should keep ourselves secret. As to the red galleys they are indeed as + large as any, for they are the Imperial ships of war, which come forth + from the harbour of Theodosius. Round yonder green point is the Golden + Horn, where the merchant ships are moored. But now, Leon, if you follow + the line of buildings past the great church, you will see a long row of + pillars fronting the sea. It marks the Palace of the Caesars.” + </p> + <p> + The boy looked at it with fixed attention. “And my mother is there,” he + whispered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Leon, your mother the Empress Theodora and her husband the great + Justinian dwell in yonder palace.” + </p> + <p> + The boy looked wistfully up into the old man’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure, Father Luke, that my mother will indeed be glad to see me?” + </p> + <p> + The abbot turned away his face to avoid those questioning eyes. + </p> + <p> + “We cannot tell, Leon. We can only try. If it should prove that there is + no place for you, then there is always a welcome among the brethren of + Saint Nicephorus.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not tell my mother that we were coming, Father Luke? Why did + you not wait until you had her command?” + </p> + <p> + “At a distance, Leon, it would be easy to refuse you. An Imperial + messenger would have stopped us. But when she sees you, Leon—your + eyes, so like her own, your face, which carries memories of one whom she + loved—then, if there be a woman’s heart within her bosom, she will + take you into it. They say that the Emperor can refuse her nothing. They + have no child of their own. There is a great future before you, Leon. When + it comes, do not forget the poor brethren of Saint Nicephorus, who took + you in when you had no friend in the world.” + </p> + <p> + The old abbot spoke cheerily, but it was easy to see from his anxious + countenance that the nearer he came to the capital the more doubtful did + his errand appear. What had seemed easy and natural from the quiet + cloisters of Antioch became dubious and dark now that the golden domes of + Constantinople glittered so close at hand. Ten years before, a wretched + woman, whose very name was an offence throughout the eastern world where + she was as infamous for her dishonour as famous for her beauty, had come + to the monastery gate, and had persuaded the monks to take charge of her + infant son, the child of her shame. There he had been ever since. But she, + Theodora, the harlot, returning to the capital, had by the strangest turn + of Fortune’s wheel caught the fancy and finally the enduring love of + Justinian the heir to the throne. Then on the death of his uncle Justin, + the young man had become the greatest monarch upon the earth, and had + raised Theodora to be not only his wife and Empress, but to be absolute + ruler with powers equal to and independent of his own. And she, the + polluted one, had risen to the dignity, had cut herself sternly away from + all that related to her past life, and had shown signs already of being a + great Queen, stronger and wiser than her husband, but fierce, vindictive, + and unbending, a firm support to her friends, but a terror to her foes. + This was the woman to whom the Abbot Luke of Antioch was bringing Leon, + her forgotten son. If ever her mind strayed back to the days when, + abandoned by her lover Ecebolus, the Governor of the African Pentapolis, + she had made her way on foot through Asia Minor, and left her infant with + the monks, it was only to persuade herself that the brethren cloistered + far from the world would never identify Theodora the Empress with Theodora + the dissolute wanderer, and that the fruits of her sin would be for ever + concealed from her Imperial husband. + </p> + <p> + The little brig had now rounded the point of the Acropolis, and the long + blue stretch of the Golden Horn lay before it. The high wall of Theodosius + lined the whole harbour, but a narrow verge of land had been left between + it and the water’s edge to serve as a quay. The vessel ran alongside near + the Neorion Gate, and the passengers, after a short scrutiny from the + group of helmeted guards who lounged beside it, were allowed to pass + through into the great city. + </p> + <p> + The abbot, who had made several visits to Constantinople upon the business + of his monastery, walked with the assured step of one who knows his + ground; while the boy, alarmed and yet pleased by the rush of people, the + roar and glitter of passing chariots, and the vista of magnificent + buildings, held tightly to the loose gown of his guide, while staring + eagerly about him in every direction. Passing through the steep and narrow + streets which led up from the water, they emerged into the open space + which surrounds the magnificent pile of Saint Sophia, the great church + begun by Constantine, hallowed by Saint Chrysostom, and now the seat of + the Patriarch, and the very centre of the Eastern Church. Only with many + crossings and genuflections did the pious abbot succeed in passing the + revered shrine of his religion, and hurried on to his difficult task. + </p> + <p> + Having passed Saint Sophia, the two travellers crossed the marble-paved + Augusteum, and saw upon their right the gilded gates of the hippodrome + through which a vast crowd of people was pressing, for though the morning + had been devoted to the religious ceremony, the afternoon was given over + to secular festivities. So great was the rush of the populace that the two + strangers had some difficulty in disengaging themselves from the stream + and reaching the huge arch of black marble which formed the outer gate of + the palace. Within they were fiercely ordered to halt by a gold-crested + and magnificent sentinel who laid his shining spear across their breasts + until his superior officer should give them permission to pass. The abbot + had been warned, however, that all obstacles would give way if he + mentioned the name of Basil the eunuch, who acted as chamberlain of the + palace and also as Parakimomen—a high office which meant that he + slept at the door of the Imperial bed-chamber. The charm worked + wonderfully, for at the mention of that potent name the Protosphathaire, + or Head of the Palace Guards, who chanced to be upon the spot, immediately + detached one of his soldiers with instructions to convoy the two strangers + into the presence of the chamberlain. + </p> + <p> + Passing in succession a middle guard and an inner guard, the travellers + came at last into the palace proper, and followed their majestic guide + from chamber to chamber, each more wonderful than the last. Marbles and + gold, velvet and silver, glittering mosaics, wonderful carvings, ivory + screens, curtains of Armenian tissue and of Indian silk, damask from + Arabia, and amber from the Baltic—all these things merged themselves + in the minds of the two simple provincials, until their eyes ached and + their senses reeled before the blaze and the glory of this, the most + magnificent of the dwellings of man. Finally, a pair of curtains, crusted + with gold, were parted, and their guide handed them over to a negro mute + who stood within. A heavy, fat, brown-skinned man, with a large, flabby, + hairless face was pacing up and down the small apartment, and he turned + upon them as they entered with an abominable and threatening smile. His + loose lips and pendulous cheeks were those of a gross old woman, but above + them there shone a pair of dark malignant eyes, full of fierce intensity + of observation and judgment. + </p> + <p> + “You have entered the palace by using my name,” he said. “It is one of my + boasts that any of the populace can approach me in this way. But it is not + fortunate for those who take advantage of it without due cause.” Again he + smiled a smile which made the frightened boy cling tightly to the loose + serge skirts of the abbot. + </p> + <p> + But the ecclesiastic was a man of courage. Undaunted by the sinister + appearance of the great chamberlain, or by the threat which lay in his + words, he laid his hand upon his young companion’s shoulder and faced the + eunuch with a confidential smile. + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt, your excellency,” said he, “that the importance of my + mission has given me the right to enter the palace. The only thing which + troubles me is whether it may not be so important as to forbid me from + broaching it to you, or indeed, to anybody save the Empress Theodora, + since it is she only whom it concerns.” + </p> + <p> + The eunuch’s thick eyebrows bunched together over his vicious eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You must make good those words,” he said. “If my gracious master—the + ever-glorious Emperor Justinian—does not disdain to take me into his + most intimate confidence in all things, it would be strange if there were + any subject within your knowledge which I might not hear. You are, as I + gather from your garb and bearing, the abbot of some Asiatic monastery?” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, your excellency, I am the abbot of the Monastery of St. + Nicephorus in Antioch. But I repeat that I am assured that what I have to + say is for the ear of the Empress Theodora only.” + </p> + <p> + The eunuch was evidently puzzled, and his curiosity aroused by the old + man’s persistence. He came nearer, his heavy face thrust forward, his + flabby brown hands, like two sponges, resting upon the table of yellow + jasper before him. + </p> + <p> + “Old man,” said he, “there is no secret which concerns the Empress which + may not be told to me. But if you refuse to speak, it is certain that you + will never see her. Why should I admit you, unless I know your errand? How + should I know that you are not a Manichean heretic with a poniard in your + bosom, longing for the blood of the mother of the Church?” + </p> + <p> + The abbot hesitated no longer. “If there be a mistake in the matter, then + on your head be it,” said he. “Know then that this lad Leon is the son of + Theodora the Empress, left by her in our monastery within a month of his + birth ten years ago. This papyrus which I hand you will show you that what + I say is beyond all question or doubt.” + </p> + <p> + The eunuch Basil took the paper, but his eyes were fixed upon the boy, and + his features showed a mixture of amazement at the news that he had + received, and of cunning speculation as to how he could turn it to profit. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, he is the very image of the Empress,” he muttered; and then, with + sudden suspicion, “Is it not the chance of this likeness which has put the + scheme into your head, old man?” + </p> + <p> + “There is but one way to answer that,” said the abbot. “It is to ask the + Empress herself whether what I say is not true, and to give her the glad + tidings that her boy is alive and well.” + </p> + <p> + The tone of confidence, together with the testimony of the papyrus, and + the boy’s beautiful face, removed the last shadow of doubt from the + eunuch’s mind. Here was a great fact; but what use could he make of it? + Above all, what advantage could he draw from it? He stood with his fat + chin in his hand, turning it over in his cunning brain. + </p> + <p> + “Old man,” said he at last, “to how many have you told this secret?” + </p> + <p> + “To no one in the whole world,” the other answered. “There is Deacon + Bardas at the monastery and myself. No one else knows anything.” + </p> + <p> + “You are sure of this?” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely certain.” + </p> + <p> + The eunuch had made up his mind. If he alone of all men in the palace knew + of this event, he would have a powerful hold over his masterful mistress. + He was certain that Justinian the Emperor knew nothing of this. It would + be a shock to him. It might even alienate his affections from his wife. + She might care to take precautions to prevent him from knowing. And if he, + Basil the eunuch, was her confederate in those precautions, then how very + close it must draw him to her. All this flashed through his mind as he + stood, the papyrus in his hand, looking at the old man and the boy. + </p> + <p> + “Stay here,” said he. “I will be with you again.” With a swift rustle of + his silken robes he swept from the chamber. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes had elapsed when a curtain at the end of the room was pushed + aside, and the eunuch, reappearing, held it back, doubling his unwieldy + body into a profound obeisance as he did so. Through the gap came a small + alert woman, clad in golden tissue, with a loose outer mantle and shoes of + the Imperial purple. That colour alone showed that she could be none other + than the Empress; but the dignity of her carriage, the fierce authority of + her magnificent dark eyes, and the perfect beauty of her haughty face, all + proclaimed that it could only be that Theodora who, in spite of her lowly + origin, was the most majestic as well as the most maturely lovely of all + the women in her kingdom. Gone now were the buffoon tricks which the + daughter of Acacius the bearward had learned in the amphitheatre; gone too + was the light charm of the wanton, and what was left was the worthy mate + of a great king, the measured dignity of one who was every inch an + empress. + </p> + <p> + Disregarding the two men, Theodora walked up to the boy, placed her two + white hands upon his shoulders, and looked with a long questioning gaze, a + gaze which began with hard suspicion and ended with tender recognition, + into those large lustrous eyes which were the very reflection of her own. + At first the sensitive lad was chilled by the cold intent question of the + look; but as it softened, his own spirit responded, until suddenly, with a + cry of “Mother! mother!” he cast himself into her arms, his hands locked + round her neck, his face buried in her bosom. Carried away by the sudden + natural outburst of emotion, her own arms tightened round the lad’s + figure, and she strained him for an instant to her heart. Then, the + strength of the Empress gaining instant command over the temporary + weakness of the mother, she pushed him back from her, and waved that they + should leave her to herself. The slaves in attendance hurried the two + visitors from the room. Basil the eunuch lingered, looking down at his + mistress, who had thrown herself upon a damask couch, her lips white and + her bosom heaving with the tumult of her emotion. She glanced up and met + the chancellor’s crafty gaze, her woman’s instinct reading the threat that + lurked within it. + </p> + <p> + “I am in your power,” she said. “The Emperor must never know of this.” + </p> + <p> + “I am your slave,” said the eunuch, with his ambiguous smile. “I am an + instrument in your hand. If it is your will that the Emperor should know + nothing, then who is to tell him?” + </p> + <p> + “But the monk, the boy? What are we to do?” + </p> + <p> + “There is only one way for safety,” said the eunuch. + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with horrified eyes. His spongy hands were pointing down + to the floor. There was an underground world to this beautiful palace, a + shadow that was ever close to the light, a region of dimly-lit passages, + of shadowed corners, of noiseless, tongueless slaves, of sudden, sharp + screams in the darkness. To this the eunuch was pointing. + </p> + <p> + A terrible struggle rent her breast. The beautiful boy was hers, flesh of + her flesh, bone of her bone. She knew it beyond all question or doubt. It + was her one child, and her whole heart went out to him. But Justinian! She + knew the Emperor’s strange limitations. Her career in the past was + forgotten. He had swept it all aside by special Imperial decree published + throughout the Empire, as if she were new-born through the power of his + will, and her association with his person. But they were childless, and + this sight of one which was not his own would cut him to the quick. He + could dismiss her infamous past from his mind, but if it took the concrete + shape of this beautiful child, then how could he wave it aside as if it + had never been? All her instincts and her intimate knowledge of the man + told her that even her charm, and her influence might fail under such + circumstances to save her from ruin. Her divorce would be as easy to him + as her elevation had been. She was balanced upon a giddy pinnacle, the + highest in the world, and yet the higher the deeper the fall. Everything + that earth could give was now at her feet. Was she to risk the losing of + it all—for what? For a weakness which was unworthy of an Empress, + for a foolish new-born spasm of love, for that which had no existence + within her in the morning? How could she be so foolish as to risk losing + such a substance for such a shadow? + </p> + <p> + “Leave it to me,” said the brown watchful face above her. + </p> + <p> + “Must it be—death?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no real safety outside. But if your heart is too merciful, then + by the loss of sight and speech—” + </p> + <p> + She saw in her mind the white-hot iron approaching those glorious eyes, + and she shuddered at the thought. + </p> + <p> + “No, no! Better death than that!” + </p> + <p> + “Let it be death then. You are wise, great Empress, for there only is real + safety and assurance of silence.” + </p> + <p> + “And the monk?” + </p> + <p> + “Him also.” + </p> + <p> + “But the Holy Synod? He is a tonsured priest. What would the Patriarch + do?” + </p> + <p> + “Silence his babbling tongue. Then let them do what they will. How are we + of the palace to know that this conspirator, taken with a dagger in his + sleeve, is really what he says?” + </p> + <p> + Again she shuddered and shrank down among the cushions. + </p> + <p> + “Speak not of it, think not of it,” said the eunuch. “Say only that you + leave it in my hands. Nay, then, if you cannot say it, do but nod your + head, and I take it as your signal.” + </p> + <p> + In that moment there flashed before Theodora’s mind a vision of all her + enemies, of all those who envied her rise, of all whose hatred and + contempt would rise into a clamour of delight could they see the daughter + of the bearward hurled down again into that abyss from which she had been + dragged. Her face hardened, her lips tightened, her little hands clenched + in the agony of her thought. “Do it!” she said. + </p> + <p> + In an instant, with a terrible smile, the messenger of death hurried from + the room. She groaned aloud, and buried herself yet deeper amid the silken + cushions, clutching them frantically with convulsed and twitching hands. + </p> + <p> + The eunuch wasted no time, for this deed, once done, he became—save + for some insignificant monk in Asia Minor, whose fate would soon be sealed—the + only sharer of Theodora’s secret, and therefore the only person who could + curb and bend that most imperious nature. Hurrying into the chamber where + the visitors were waiting, he gave a sinister signal, only too well known + in those iron days. In an instant the black mutes in attendance seized the + old man and the boy, pushing them swiftly down a passage and into a meaner + portion of the palace, where the heavy smell of luscious cooking + proclaimed the neighbourhood of the kitchens. A side corridor led to a + heavily-barred iron door, and this in turn opened upon a steep flight of + stone steps, feebly illuminated by the glimmer of wall lamps. At the head + and foot stood a mute sentinel like an ebony statue, and below, along the + dusky and forbidding passages from which the cells opened, a succession of + niches in the wall were each occupied by a similar guardian. The + unfortunate visitors were dragged brutally down a number of stone-flagged + and dismal corridors until they descended another long stair which led so + deeply into the earth that the damp feeling in the heavy air and the drip + of water all round showed that they had come down to the level of the sea. + Groans and cries, like those of sick animals, from the various grated + doors which they passed showed how many there were who spent their whole + lives in this humid and poisonous atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + At the end of this lowest passage was a door which opened into a single + large vaulted room. It was devoid of furniture, but in the centre was a + large and heavy wooden board clamped with iron. This lay upon a rude stone + parapet, engraved with inscriptions beyond the wit of the eastern + scholars, for this old well dated from a time before the Greeks founded + Byzantium, when men of Chaldea and Phoenicia built with huge unmortared + blocks, far below the level of the town of Constantine. The door was + closed, and the eunuch beckoned to the slaves that they should remove the + slab which covered the well of death. The frightened boy screamed and + clung to the abbot, who, ashy-pale and trembling, was pleading hard to + melt the heart of the ferocious eunuch. + </p> + <p> + “Surely, surely, you would not slay the innocent boy!” he cried. “What has + he done? Was it his fault that he came here? I alone—I and Deacon + Bardas—are to blame. Punish us, if some one must indeed be punished. + We are old. It is today or tomorrow with us. But he is so young and so + beautiful, with all his life before him. Oh, sir! oh, your excellency, you + would not have the heart to hurt him!” + </p> + <p> + He threw himself down and clutched at the eunuch’s knees, while the boy + sobbed piteously and cast horror-stricken eyes at the black slaves who + were tearing the wooden slab from the ancient parapet beneath. The only + answer which the chamberlain gave to the frantic pleadings of the abbot + was to take a stone which lay on the coping of the well and toss it in. It + could be heard clattering against the old, damp, mildewed walls, until it + fell with a hollow boom into some far distant subterranean pool. Then he + again motioned with his hands, and the black slaves threw themselves upon + the boy and dragged him away from his guardian. So shrill was his clamour + that no one heard the approach of the Empress. With a swift rush she had + entered the room, and her arms were round her son. + </p> + <p> + “It shall not be! It cannot be!” she cried. “No, no, my darling! my + darling! they shall do you no hurt. I was mad to think of it—mad and + wicked to dream of it. Oh, my sweet boy! To think that your mother might + have had your blood upon her head!” + </p> + <p> + The eunuch’s brows were gathered together at this failure of his plans, at + this fresh example of feminine caprice. + </p> + <p> + “Why kill them, great lady, if it pains your gracious heart?” said he. + “With a knife and a branding iron they can be disarmed for ever.” + </p> + <p> + She paid no attention to his words. “Kiss me, Leon!” she cried. “Just once + let me feel my own child’s soft lips rest upon mine. Now again! No, no + more, or I shall weaken for what I have still to say and still to do. Old + man, you are very near a natural grave, and I cannot think from your + venerable aspect that words of falsehood would come readily to your lips. + You have indeed kept my secret all these years, have you not?” + </p> + <p> + “I have in very truth, great Empress. I swear to you by Saint Nicephorus, + patron of our house, that, save old Deacon Bardas, there is none who + knows.” + </p> + <p> + “Then let your lips still be sealed. If you have kept faith in the past, I + see no reason why you should be a babbler in the future. And you, Leon”—she + bent her wonderful eyes with a strange mixture of sternness and of love + upon the boy, “can I trust you? Will you keep a secret which could never + help you, but would be the ruin and downfall of your mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother, I would not hurt you! I swear that I will be silent.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I trust you both. Such provision will be made for your monastery and + for your own personal comforts as will make you bless the day you came to + my palace. Now you may go. I wish never to see you again. If I did, you + might find me in a softer mood, or in a harder, and the one would lead to + my undoing, the other to yours. But if by whisper or rumour I have reason + to think that you have failed me, then you and your monks and your + monastery will have such an end as will be a lesson for ever to those who + would break faith with their Empress.” + </p> + <p> + “I will never speak,” said the old abbot; “neither will Deacon Bardas; + neither will Leon. For all three I can answer. But there are others—these + slaves, the chancellor. We may be punished for another’s fault.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” said the Empress, and her eyes were like flints. “These slaves + are voiceless; nor have they any means to tell those secrets which they + know. As to you, Basil—” She raised her white hand with the same + deadly gesture which he had himself used so short a time before. The black + slaves were on him like hounds on a stag. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my gracious mistress, dear lady, what is this? What is this? You + cannot mean it!” he screamed, in his high, cracked voice. “Oh, what have I + done? Why should I die?” + </p> + <p> + “You have turned me against my own. You have goaded me to slay my own son. + You have intended to use my secret against me. I read it in your eyes from + the first. Cruel, murderous villain, taste the fate which you have + yourself given to so many others. This is your doom. I have spoken.” + </p> + <p> + The old man and the boy hurried in horror from the vault. As they glanced + back they saw the erect inflexible, shimmering, gold-clad figure of the + Empress. Beyond they had a glimpse of the green-scummed lining of the + well, and of the great red open mouth of the eunuch, as he screamed and + prayed while every tug of the straining slaves brought him one step nearer + to the brink. With their hands over their ears they rushed away, but even + so they heard that last woman-like shriek, and then the heavy plunge far + down in the dark abysses of the earth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE RED STAR + </h2> + <p> + The house of Theodosius, the famous eastern merchant, was in the best part + of Constantinople at the Sea Point which is near the Church of Saint + Demetrius. Here he would entertain in so princely a fashion that even the + Emperor Maurice had been known to come privately from the neighbouring + Bucoleon palace in order to join in the revelry. On the night in question, + however, which was the fourth of November in the year of our Lord 630, his + numerous guests had retired early, and there remained only two intimates, + both of them successful merchants like himself, who sat with him over + their wine on the marble verandah of his house, whence on the one side + they could see the lights of the shipping in the Sea of Marmora, and on + the other the beacons which marked out the course of the Bosphorus. + Immediately at their feet lay a narrow strait of water, with the low, dark + loom of the Asiatic hills beyond. A thin haze hid the heavens, but away to + the south a single great red star burned sullenly in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + The night was cool, the light was soothing, and the three men talked + freely, letting their minds drift back into the earlier days when they had + staked their capital, and often their lives, on the ventures which had + built up their present fortunes. The host spoke of his long journeys in + North Africa, the land of the Moors; how he had travelled, keeping the + blue sea ever upon his right, until he had passed the ruins of Carthage, + and so on and ever on until a great tidal ocean beat upon a yellow strand + before him, while on the right he could see the high rock across the waves + which marked the Pillars of Hercules. His talk was of dark-skinned bearded + men, of lions, and of monstrous serpents. Then Demetrius, the Cilician, an + austere man of sixty, told how he also had built up his mighty wealth. He + spoke of a journey over the Danube and through the country of the fierce + Huns, until he and his friends had found themselves in the mighty forest + of Germany, on the shores of the great river which is called the Elbe. His + stories were of huge men, sluggish of mind, but murderous in their cups, + of sudden midnight broils and nocturnal flights, of villages buried in + dense woods, of bloody heathen sacrifices, and of the bears and wolves who + haunted the forest paths. So the two elder men capped each other’s stories + and awoke each other’s memories, while Manuel Ducas, the young merchant of + gold and ostrich feathers, whose name was already known all over the + Levant, sat in silence and listened to their talk. At last, however, they + called upon him also for an anecdote, and leaning his cheek upon his + elbow, with his eyes fixed upon the great red star which burned in the + south, the younger man began to speak. + </p> + <p> + “It is the sight of that star which brings a story into my mind,” said he. + “I do not know its name. Old Lascaris the astronomer would tell me if I + asked, but I have no desire to know. Yet at this time of the year I always + look out for it, and I never fail to see it burning in the same place. But + it seems to me that it is redder and larger than it was. + </p> + <p> + “It was some ten years ago that I made an expedition into Abyssinia, where + I traded to such good effect that I set forth on my return with more than + a hundred camel-loads of skins, ivory, gold, spices, and other African + produce. I brought them to the sea-coast at Arsinoe, and carried them up + the Arabian Gulf in five of the small boats of the country. Finally, I + landed near Saba, which is a starting-point for caravans, and, having + assembled my camels and hired a guard of forty men from the wandering + Arabs, I set forth for Macoraba. From this point, which is the sacred city + of the idolaters of those parts, one can always join the large caravans + which go north twice a year to Jerusalem and the sea-coast of Syria. + </p> + <p> + “Our route was a long and weary one. On our left hand was the Arabian + Gulf, lying like a pool of molten metal under the glare of day, but + changing to blood-red as the sun sank each evening behind the distant + African coast. On our right was a monstrous desert which extends, so far + as I know, across the whole of Arabia and away to the distant kingdom of + the Persians. For many days we saw no sign of life save our own long, + straggling line of laden camels with their tattered, swarthy guardians. In + these deserts the soft sand deadens the footfall of the animals, so that + their silent progress day after day through a scene which never changes, + and which is itself noiseless, becomes at last like a strange dream. Often + as I rode behind my caravan, and gazed at the grotesque figures which bore + my wares in front of me, I found it hard to believe that it was indeed + reality, and that it was I, I, Manuel Ducas, who lived near the Theodosian + Gate of Constantinople, and shouted for the Green at the hippodrome every + Sunday afternoon, who was there in so strange a land and with such + singular comrades. + </p> + <p> + “Now and then, far out at sea, we caught sight of the white triangular + sails of the boats which these people use, but as they are all pirates, we + were very glad to be safely upon shore. Once or twice, too, by the water’s + edge we saw dwarfish creatures-one could scarcely say if they were men or + monkeys—who burrow for homes among the seaweed, drink the pools of + brackish water, and eat what they can catch. These are the fish-eaters, + the Ichthyophagi, of whom old Herodotus talks—surely the lowest of + all the human race. Our Arabs shrank from them with horror, for it is well + known that, should you die in the desert, these little people will settle + on you like carrion crows, and leave not a bone unpicked. They gibbered + and croaked and waved their skinny arms at us as we passed, knowing well + that they could swim far out to sea if we attempted to pursue them; for it + is said that even the sharks turn with disgust from their foul bodies. + </p> + <p> + “We had travelled in this way for ten days, camping every evening at the + vile wells which offered a small quantity of abominable water. It was our + habit to rise very early and to travel very late, but to halt during the + intolerable heat of the afternoon, when, for want of trees, we would + crouch in the shadow of a sandhill, or, if that were wanting, behind our + own camels and merchandise, in order to escape from the insufferable glare + of the sun. On the seventh day we were near the point where one leaves the + coast in order to strike inland to Macoraba. We had concluded our midday + halt, and were just starting once more, the sun still being so hot that we + could hardly bear it, when, looking up, I saw a remarkable sight. Standing + on a hillock to our right there was a man about forty feet high, holding + in his hand a spear which was the size of the mast of a large ship. You + look surprised, my friends, and you can therefore imagine my feelings when + I saw such a sight. But my reason soon told me that the object in front of + me was really a wandering Arab, whose form had been enormously magnified + by the strange distorting effects which the hot air of the desert is able + to cause. + </p> + <p> + “However, the actual apparition caused more alarm to my companions than + the imagined one had to me, for with a howl of dismay they shrank together + into a frightened group, all pointing and gesticulating as they gazed at + the distant figure. I then observed that the man was not alone, but that + from all the sandhills a line of turbaned heads was gazing down upon us. + The chief of the escort came running to me, and informed me of the cause + of their terror, which was that they recognized, by some peculiarity of + their headgear, that these men belonged to the tribe of the Dilwas, the + most ferocious and unscrupulous of the Bedouin, who had evidently laid an + ambuscade for us at this point with the intention of seizing our caravan. + When I thought of all my efforts in Abyssinia, of the length of my journey + and of the dangers and fatigues which I had endured, I could not bear to + think of this total disaster coming upon me at the last instant and + robbing me not only of my profits, but also of my original outlay. It was + evident, however, that the robbers were too numerous for us to attempt to + defend ourselves, and that we should be very fortunate if we escaped with + our lives. Sitting upon a packet, therefore, I commended my soul to our + blessed Saint Helena, while I watched with despairing eyes the stealthy + and menacing approach of the Arab robbers. + </p> + <p> + “It may have been our own good fortune, or it may have been the handsome + offering of beeswax candles—four to the pound—which I had + mentally vowed to the blessed Helena, but at that instant I heard a great + outcry of joy from among my own followers. Standing up on the packet that + I might have a better view, I was overjoyed to see a long caravan—five + hundred camels at least-with a numerous armed guard coming along the route + from Macoraba. It is, I need not tell you, the custom of all caravans to + combine their forces against the robbers of the desert, and with the aid + of these newcomers we had become the stronger party. The marauders + recognized it at once, for they vanished as if their native sands had + swallowed them. Running up to the summit of a sandhill, I was just able to + catch a glimpse of a dust-cloud whirling away across the yellow plain, + with the long necks of their camels, the flutter of their loose garments, + and the gleam of their spears breaking out from the heart of it. So + vanished the marauders. + </p> + <p> + “Presently I found, however, that I had only exchanged one danger for + another. At first I had hoped that this new caravan might belong to some + Roman citizen, or at least to some Syrian Christian, but I found that it + was entirely Arab. The trading Arabs who are settled in the numerous towns + of Arabia are, of course, very much more peaceable than the Bedouin of the + wilderness, those sons of Ishmael of whom we read in Holy Writ. But the + Arab blood is covetous and lawless, so that when I saw several hundred of + them formed in a semi-circle round our camels, looking with greedy eyes at + my boxes of precious metals and my packets of ostrich feathers, I feared + the worst. + </p> + <p> + “The leader of the new caravan was a man of dignified bearing and + remarkable appearance. His age I would judge to be about forty. He had + aquiline features, a noble black beard, and eyes so luminous, so + searching, and so intense that I cannot remember in all my wanderings to + have seen any which could be compared with them. To my thanks and + salutations he returned a formal bow, and stood stroking his beard and + looking in silence at the wealth which had suddenly fallen into his power. + A murmur from his followers showed the eagerness with which they awaited + the order to tall upon the plunder, and a young ruffian, who seemed to be + on intimate terms with the leader, came to his elbow and put the desires + of his companions into words. + </p> + <p> + “‘Surely, oh Revered One,’ said he, ‘these people and their treasure have + been delivered into our hands. When we return with it to the holy place, + who of all the Koraish will fail to see the finger of God which has led + us?’ + </p> + <p> + “But the leader shook his head. ‘Nay, Ali, it may not be,’ he answered. + ‘This man is, as I judge, a citizen of Rome, and we may not treat him as + though he were an idolater.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘But he is an unbeliever,’ cried the youth, fingering a great knife which + hung in his belt. ‘Were I to be the judge, he would lose not only his + merchandise, but his life also, if he did not accept the faith.’ + </p> + <p> + “The older man smiled and shook his head. ‘Nay, Ali; you are too + hot-headed,’ said he, ‘seeing that there are not as yet three hundred + faithful in the world, our hands would indeed be full if we were to take + the lives and property of all who are not with us. Forget not, dear lad, + that charity and honesty are the very nose-ring and halter of the true + faith.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Among the faithful,’ said the ferocious youth. + </p> + <p> + “‘Nay, towards every one. It is the law of Allah. And yet’—here his + countenance darkened, and his eyes shone with a most sinister light—‘the + day may soon come when the hour of grace is past, and woe, then, to those + who have not hearkened! Then shall the sword of Allah be drawn, and it + shall not be sheathed until the harvest is reaped. First it shall strike + the idolaters on the day when my own people and kinsmen, the unbelieving + Koraish, shall be scattered, and the three hundred and sixty idols of the + Caaba thrust out upon the dungheaps of the town. Then shall the Caaba be + the home and temple of one God only who brooks no rival on earth or in + heaven.’ + </p> + <p> + “The man’s followers had gathered round him, their spears in their hands, + their ardent eyes fixed upon his face, and their dark features convulsed + with such fanatic enthusiasm as showed the hold which he had upon their + love and respect. + </p> + <p> + “‘We shall be patient,’ said he; ‘but some time next year, the year after, + the day may come when the great angel Gabriel shall bear me the message + that the time of words has gone by, and that the hour of the sword has + come. We are few and weak, but if it is His will, who can stand against + us? Are you of Jewish faith, stranger?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I answered that I was not. + </p> + <p> + “‘The better for you,’ he answered, with the same furious anger in his + swarthy face. ‘First shall the idolaters fall, and then the Jews, in that + they have not known those very prophets whom they had themselves foretold. + Then last will come the turn of the Christians, who follow indeed a true + Prophet, greater than Moses or Abraham, but who have sinned in that they + have confounded a creature with the Creator. To each in turn—idolater, + Jew, and Christian—the day of reckoning will come.’ + </p> + <p> + “The ragamuffins behind him all shook their spears as he spoke. There was + no doubt about their earnestness, but when I looked at their tattered + dresses and simple arms, I could not help smiling to think of their + ambitious threats, and to picture what their fate would be upon the day of + battle before the battle-axes of our Imperial Guards, or the spears of the + heavy cavalry of the Armenian Themes. However, I need not say that I was + discreet enough to keep my thoughts to myself, as I had no desire to be + the first martyr in this fresh attack upon our blessed faith. + </p> + <p> + “It was now evening, and it was decided that the two caravans should camp + together—an arrangement which was the more welcome as we were by no + means sure that we had seen the last of the marauders. I had invited the + leader of the Arabs to have supper with me, and after a long exercise of + prayer with his followers he came to join me, but my attempt at + hospitality was thrown away, for he would not touch the excellent wine + which I had unpacked for him, nor would he eat any of my dainties, + contenting himself with stale bread, dried dates, and water. After this + meal we sat alone by the smouldering fire, the magnificent arch of the + heavens above us of that deep, rich blue with those gleaming, clear-cut + stars which can only be seen in that dry desert air. Our camp lay before + us, and no sound reached our ears save the dull murmur of the voices of + our companions and the occasional shrill cry of a jackal among the + sandhills around us. Face to face I sat with this strange man, the glow of + the fire beating upon his eager and imperious features and reflecting from + his passionate eyes. It was the strangest vigil, and one which will never + pass from my recollection. I have spoken with many wise and famous men + upon my travels, but never with one who left the impression of this one. + </p> + <p> + “And yet much of his talk was unintelligible to me, though, as you are + aware, I speak Arabian like an Arab. It rose and fell in the strangest + way. Sometimes it was the babble of a child, sometimes the incoherent + raving of a fanatic, sometimes the lofty dreams of a prophet and + philosopher. There were times when his stories of demons, of miracles, of + dreams, and of omens, were such as an old woman might tell to please the + children of an evening. There were others when, as he talked with shining + face of his converse with angels, of the intentions of the Creator, and + the end of the universe, I felt as if I were in the company of some one + more than mortal, some one who was indeed the direct messenger of the Most + High. + </p> + <p> + “There were good reasons why he should treat me with such confidence. He + saw in me a messenger to Constantinople and to the Roman Empire. Even as + Saint Paul had brought Christianity to Europe, so he hoped that I might + carry his doctrines to my native city. Alas! be the doctrines what they + may, I fear that I am not the stuff of which Pauls are made. Yet he strove + with all his heart during that long Arabian night to bring me over to his + belief. He had with him a holy book, written, as he said, from the + dictation of an angel, which he carried in tablets of bone in the nose-bag + of a camel. Some chapters of this he read me; but, though the precepts + were usually good, the language seemed wild and fanciful. There were times + when I could scarce keep my countenance as I listened to him. He planned + out his future movements, and indeed, as he spoke, it was hard to remember + that he was only the wandering leader of an Arab caravan, and not one of + the great ones of the earth. + </p> + <p> + “‘When God has given me sufficient power, which will be within a few + years,’ said he, ‘I will unite all Arabia under my banner. Then I will + spread my doctrine over Syria and Egypt. When this has been done, I will + turn to Persia, and give them the choice of the true faith or the sword. + Having taken Persia, it will be easy then to overrun Asia Minor, and so to + make our way to Constantinople.’ + </p> + <p> + “I bit my lip to keep from laughing. ‘And how long will it be before your + victorious troops have reached the Bosphorus?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + “‘Such things are in the hands of God, whose servants we are,’ said he. + ‘It may be that I shall myself have passed away before these things are + accomplished, but before the days of our children are completed, all that + I have now told you will come to pass. Look at that star,’ he added, + pointing to a beautiful clear planet above our heads. ‘That is the symbol + of Christ. See how serene and peaceful it shines, like His own teaching + and the memory of His life. Now,’ he added, turning his outstretched hand + to a dusky red star upon the horizon—the very one on which we are + gazing now—‘that is my star, which tells of wrath, of war, of a + scourge upon sinners. And yet both are indeed stars, and each does as + Allah may ordain.’ + </p> + <p> + “Well, that was the experience which was called to my mind by the sight of + this star tonight. Red and angry, it still broods over the south, even as + I saw it that night in the desert. Somewhere down yonder that man is + working and striving. He may be stabbed by some brother fanatic or slain + in a tribal skirmish. If so, that is the end. But if he lives, there was + that in his eyes and in his presence which tells me that Mahomet the son + of Abdallah—for that was his name—will testify in some + noteworthy fashion to the faith that is in him.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART2" id="link2H_PART2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + PART II. + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE SILVER MIRROR + </h2> + <p> + Jan. 3.—This affair of White and Wotherspoon’s accounts proves to be + a gigantic task. There are twenty thick ledgers to be examined and + checked. Who would be a junior partner? However, it is the first big bit + of business which has been left entirely in my hands. I must justify it. + But it has to be finished so that the lawyers may have the result in time + for the trial. Johnson said this morning that I should have to get the + last figure out before the twentieth of the month. Good Lord! Well, have + at it, and if human brain and nerve can stand the strain, I’ll win out at + the other side. It means office-work from ten to five, and then a second + sitting from about eight to one in the morning. There’s drama in an + accountant’s life. When I find myself in the still early hours, while all + the world sleeps, hunting through column after column for those missing + figures which will turn a respected alderman into a felon, I understand + that it is not such a prosaic profession after all. + </p> + <p> + On Monday I came on the first trace of defalcation. No heavy game hunter + ever got a finer thrill when first he caught sight of the trail of his + quarry. But I look at the twenty ledgers and think of the jungle through + which I have to follow him before I get my kill. Hard work—but rare + sport, too, in a way! I saw the fat fellow once at a City dinner, his red + face glowing above a white napkin. He looked at the little pale man at the + end of the table. He would have been pale too if he could have seen the + task that would be mine. + </p> + <p> + Jan. 6.—What perfect nonsense it is for doctors to prescribe rest + when rest is out of the question! Asses! They might as well shout to a man + who has a pack of wolves at his heels that what he wants is absolute + quiet. My figures must be out by a certain date; unless they are so, I + shall lose the chance of my lifetime, so how on earth am I to rest? I’ll + take a week or so after the trial. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps I was myself a fool to go to the doctor at all. But I get nervous + and highly-strung when I sit alone at my work at night. It’s not a pain—only + a sort of fullness of the head with an occasional mist over the eyes. I + thought perhaps some bromide, or chloral, or something of the kind might + do me good. But stop work? It’s absurd to ask such a thing. It’s like a + long-distance race. You feel queer at first and your heart thumps and your + lungs pant, but if you have only the pluck to keep on, you get your second + wind. I’ll stick to my work and wait for my second wind. If it never comes—all + the same, I’ll stick to my work. Two ledgers are done, and I am well on in + the third. The rascal has covered his tracks well, but I pick them up for + all that. + </p> + <p> + Jan. 9.—I had not meant to go to the doctor again. And yet I have + had to. “Straining my nerves, risking a complete breakdown, even + endangering my sanity.” That’s a nice sentence to have fired off at one. + Well, I’ll stand the strain and I’ll take the risk, and so long as I can + sit in my chair and move a pen I’ll follow the old sinner’s slot. + </p> + <p> + By the way, I may as well set down here the queer experience which drove + me this second time to the doctor. I’ll keep an exact record of my + symptoms and sensations, because they are interesting in themselves—“a + curious psycho-physiological study,” says the doctor—and also + because I am perfectly certain that when I am through with them they will + all seem blurred and unreal, like some queer dream betwixt sleeping and + waking. So now, while they are fresh, I will just make a note of them, if + only as a change of thought after the endless figures. + </p> + <p> + There’s an old silver-framed mirror in my room. It was given me by a + friend who had a taste for antiquities, and he, as I happen to know, + picked it up at a sale and had no notion where it came from. It’s a large + thing—three feet across and two feet high—and it leans at the + back of a side-table on my left as I write. The frame is flat, about three + inches across, and very old; far too old for hall-marks or other methods + of determining its age. The glass part projects, with a bevelled edge, and + has the magnificent reflecting power which is only, as it seems to me, to + be found in very old mirrors. There’s a feeling of perspective when you + look into it such as no modern glass can ever give. + </p> + <p> + The mirror is so situated that as I sit at the table I can usually see + nothing in it but the reflection of the red window curtains. But a queer + thing happened last night. I had been working for some hours, very much + against the grain, with continual bouts of that mistiness of which I had + complained. Again and again I had to stop and clear my eyes. Well, on one + of these occasions I chanced to look at the mirror. It had the oddest + appearance. The red curtains which should have been reflected in it were + no longer there, but the glass seemed to be clouded and steamy, not on the + surface, which glittered like steel, but deep down in the very grain of + it. This opacity, when I stared hard at it, appeared to slowly rotate this + way and that, until it was a thick white cloud swirling in heavy wreaths. + So real and solid was it, and so reasonable was I, that I remember + turning, with the idea that the curtains were on fire. But everything was + deadly still in the room—no sound save the ticking of the clock, no + movement save the slow gyration of that strange woolly cloud deep in the + heart of the old mirror. + </p> + <p> + Then, as I looked, the mist, or smoke, or cloud, or whatever one may call + it, seemed to coalesce and solidify at two points quite close together, + and I was aware, with a thrill of interest rather than of fear, that these + were two eyes looking out into the room. A vague outline of a head I could + see—a woman’s by the hair, but this was very shadowy. Only the eyes + were quite distinct; such eyes—dark, luminous, filled with some + passionate emotion, fury or horror, I could not say which. Never have I + seen eyes which were so full of intense, vivid life. They were not fixed + upon me, but stared out into the room. Then as I sat erect, passed my hand + over my brow, and made a strong conscious effort to pull myself together, + the dim head faded into the general opacity, the mirror slowly cleared, + and there were the red curtains once again. + </p> + <p> + A sceptic would say, no doubt, that I had dropped asleep over my figures, + and that my experience was a dream. As a matter of fact, I was never more + vividly awake in my life. I was able to argue about it even as I looked at + it, and to tell myself that it was a subjective impression—a chimera + of the nerves—begotten by worry and insomnia. But why this + particular shape? And who is the woman, and what is the dreadful emotion + which I read in those wonderful brown eyes? They come between me and my + work. For the first time I have done less than the daily tally which I had + marked out. Perhaps that is why I have had no abnormal sensations tonight. + Tomorrow I must wake up, come what may. + </p> + <p> + Jan. 11.—All well, and good progress with my work. I wind the net, + coil after coil, round that bulky body. But the last smile may remain with + him if my own nerves break over it. The mirror would seem to be a sort of + barometer which marks my brain-pressure. Each night I have observed that + it had clouded before I reached the end of my task. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Sinclair (who is, it seems, a bit of a psychologist) was so interested + in my account that he came round this evening to have a look at the + mirror. I had observed that something was scribbled in crabbed old + characters upon the metal-work at the back. He examined this with a lens, + but could make nothing of it. “Sanc. X. Pal.” was his final reading of it, + but that did not bring us any farther. He advised me to put it away into + another room; but, after all, whatever I may see in it is, by his own + account only a symptom. It is in the cause that the danger lies. The + twenty ledgers—not the silver mirror—should be packed away if + I could only do it. I’m at the eighth now, so I progress. + </p> + <p> + Jan. 13.-Perhaps it would have been wiser after all if I had packed away + the mirror. I had an extraordinary experience with it last night. And yet + I find it so interesting, so fascinating, that even now I will keep it in + its place. What on earth is the meaning of it all? + </p> + <p> + I suppose it was about one in the morning, and I was closing my books + preparatory to staggering off to bed, when I saw her there in front of me. + The stage of mistiness and development must have passed unobserved, and + there she was in all her beauty and passion and distress, as clear-cut as + if she were really in the flesh before me. The figure was small, but very + distinct—so much so that every feature, and every detail of dress, + are stamped in my memory. She is seated on the extreme left of the mirror. + A sort of shadowy figure crouches down beside her—I can dimly + discern that it is a man—and then behind them is cloud, in which I + see figures—figures which move. It is not a mere picture upon which + I look. It is a scene in life, an actual episode. She crouches and + quivers. The man beside her cowers down. The vague figures make abrupt + movements and gestures. All my fears were swallowed up in my interest. It + was maddening to see so much and not to see more. + </p> + <p> + But I can at least describe the woman to the smallest point. She is very + beautiful and quite young—not more than five-and-twenty, I should + judge. Her hair is of a very rich brown, with a warm chestnut shade fining + into gold at the edges. A little flat-pointed cap comes to an angle in + front, and is made of lace edged with pearls. The forehead is high, too + high perhaps for perfect beauty; but one would not have it otherwise, as + it gives a touch of power and strength to what would otherwise be a softly + feminine face. The brows are most delicately curved over heavy eyelids, + and then come those wonderful eyes—so large, so dark, so full of + over-mastering emotion, of rage and horror, contending with a pride of + self-control which holds her from sheer frenzy! The cheeks are pale, the + lips white with agony, the chin and throat most exquisitely rounded. The + figure sits and leans forward in the chair, straining and rigid, + cataleptic with horror. The dress is black velvet, a jewel gleams like a + flame in the breast, and a golden crucifix smoulders in the shadow of a + fold. This is the lady whose image still lives in the old silver mirror. + What dire deed could it be which has left its impress there, so that now, + in another age, if the spirit of a man be but worn down to it, he may be + conscious of its presence? + </p> + <p> + One other detail: On the left side of the skirt of the black dress was, as + I thought at first, a shapeless bunch of white ribbon. Then, as I looked + more intently or as the vision defined itself more clearly, I perceived + what it was. It was the hand of a man, clenched and knotted in agony, + which held on with a convulsive grasp to the fold of the dress. The rest + of the crouching figure was a mere vague outline, but that strenuous hand + shone clear on the dark background, with a sinister suggestion of tragedy + in its frantic clutch. The man is frightened-horribly frightened. That I + can clearly discern. What has terrified him so? Why does he grip the + woman’s dress? The answer lies amongst those moving figures in the + background. They have brought danger both to him and to her. The interest + of the thing fascinated me. I thought no more of its relation to my own + nerves. I stared and stared as if in a theatre. But I could get no + farther. The mist thinned. There were tumultuous movements in which all + the figures were vaguely concerned. Then the mirror was clear once more. + </p> + <p> + The doctor says I must drop work for a day, and I can afford to do so, for + I have made good progress lately. It is quite evident that the visions + depend entirely upon my own nervous state, for I sat in front of the + mirror for an hour tonight, with no result whatever. My soothing day has + chased them away. I wonder whether I shall ever penetrate what they all + mean? I examined the mirror this evening under a good light, and besides + the mysterious inscription “Sanc. X. Pal.,” I was able to discern some + signs of heraldic marks, very faintly visible upon the silver. They must + be very ancient, as they are almost obliterated. So far as I could make + out, they were three spear-heads, two above and one below. I will show + them to the doctor when he calls tomorrow. + </p> + <p> + Jan. 14.—Feel perfectly well again, and I intend that nothing else + shall stop me until my task is finished. The doctor was shown the marks on + the mirror and agreed that they were armorial bearings. He is deeply + interested in all that I have told him, and cross-questioned me closely on + the details. It amuses me to notice how he is torn in two by conflicting + desires—the one that his patient should lose his symptoms, the other + that the medium—for so he regards me—should solve this mystery + of the past. He advised continued rest, but did not oppose me too + violently when I declared that such a thing was out of the question until + the ten remaining ledgers have been checked. + </p> + <p> + Jan. 17.—For three nights I have had no experiences—my day of + rest has borne fruit. Only a quarter of my task is left, but I must make a + forced march, for the lawyers are clamouring for their material. I will + give them enough and to spare. I have him fast on a hundred counts. When + they realize what a slippery, cunning rascal he is, I should gain some + credit from the case. False trading accounts, false balance-sheets, + dividends drawn from capital, losses written down as profits, suppression + of working expenses, manipulation of petty cash—it is a fine record! + </p> + <p> + Jan. 18.—Headaches, nervous twitches, mistiness, fullness of the + temples—all the premonitions of trouble, and the trouble came sure + enough. And yet my real sorrow is not so much that the vision should come + as that it should cease before all is revealed. + </p> + <p> + But I saw more tonight. The crouching man was as visible as the lady whose + gown he clutched. He is a little swarthy fellow, with a black-pointed + beard. He has a loose gown of damask trimmed with fur. The prevailing + tints of his dress are red. What a fright the fellow is in, to be sure! He + cowers and shivers and glares back over his shoulder. There is a small + knife in his other hand, but he is far too tremulous and cowed to use it. + Dimly now I begin to see the figures in the background. Fierce faces, + bearded and dark, shape themselves out of the mist. There is one terrible + creature, a skeleton of a man, with hollow cheeks and eyes sunk in his + head. He also has a knife in his hand. On the right of the woman stands a + tall man, very young, with flaxen hair, his face sullen and dour. The + beautiful woman looks up at him in appeal. So does the man on the ground. + This youth seems to be the arbiter of their fate. The crouching man draws + closer and hides himself in the woman’s skirts. The tall youth bends and + tries to drag her away from him. So much I saw last night before the + mirror cleared. Shall I never know what it leads to and whence it comes? + It is not a mere imagination, of that I am very sure. Somewhere, some + time, this scene has been acted, and this old mirror has reflected it. But + when—where? + </p> + <p> + Jan. 20.—My work draws to a close, and it is time. I feel a + tenseness within my brain, a sense of intolerable strain, which warns me + that something must give. I have worked myself to the limit. But tonight + should be the last night. With a supreme effort I should finish the final + ledger and complete the case before I rise from my chair. I will do it. I + will. + </p> + <p> + Feb. 7.—I did. My God, what an experience! I hardly know if I am + strong enough yet to set it down. + </p> + <p> + Let me explain in the first instance that I am writing this in Dr. + Sinclair’s private hospital some three weeks after the last entry in my + diary. On the night of January 20 my nervous system finally gave way, and + I remembered nothing afterwards until I found myself three days ago in + this home of rest. And I can rest with a good conscience. My work was done + before I went under. My figures are in the solicitors’ hands. The hunt is + over. + </p> + <p> + And now I must describe that last night. I had sworn to finish my work, + and so intently did I stick to it, though my head was bursting, that I + would never look up until the last column had been added. And yet it was + fine self-restraint, for all the time I knew that wonderful things were + happening in the mirror. Every nerve in my body told me so. If I looked up + there was an end of my work. So I did not look up till all was finished. + Then, when at last with throbbing temples I threw down my pen and raised + my eyes, what a sight was there! + </p> + <p> + The mirror in its silver frame was like a stage, brilliantly lit, in which + a drama was in progress. There was no mist now. The oppression of my + nerves had wrought this amazing clarity. Every feature, every movement, + was as clear-cut as in life. To think that I, a tired accountant, the most + prosaic of mankind, with the account-books of a swindling bankrupt before + me, should be chosen of all the human race to look upon such a scene! + </p> + <p> + It was the same scene and the same figures, but the drama had advanced a + stage. The tall young man was holding the woman in his arms. She strained + away from him and looked up at him with loathing in her face. They had + torn the crouching man away from his hold upon the skirt of her dress. A + dozen of them were round him—savage men, bearded men. They hacked at + him with knives. All seemed to strike him together. Their arms rose and + fell. The blood did not flow from him-it squirted. His red dress was + dabbled in it. He threw himself this way and that, purple upon crimson, + like an over-ripe plum. Still they hacked, and still the jets shot from + him. It was horrible—horrible! They dragged him kicking to the door. + The woman looked over her shoulder at him and her mouth gaped. I heard + nothing, but I knew that she was screaming. And then, whether it was this + nerve-racking vision before me, or whether, my task finished, all the + overwork of the past weeks came in one crushing weight upon me, the room + danced round me, the floor seemed to sink away beneath my feet, and I + remembered no more. In the early morning my landlady found me stretched + senseless before the silver mirror, but I knew nothing myself until three + days ago I awoke in the deep peace of the doctor’s nursing home. + </p> + <p> + Feb. 9.—Only today have I told Dr. Sinclair my full experience. He + had not allowed me to speak of such matters before. He listened with an + absorbed interest. “You don’t identify this with any well-known scene in + history?” he asked, with suspicion in his eyes. I assured him that I knew + nothing of history. “Have you no idea whence that mirror came and to whom + it once belonged?” he continued. “Have you?” I asked, for he spoke with + meaning. “It’s incredible,” said he, “and yet how else can one explain it? + The scenes which you described before suggested it, but now it has gone + beyond all range of coincidence. I will bring you some notes in the + evening.” + </p> + <p> + Later.—He has just left me. Let me set down his words as closely as + I can recall them. He began by laying several musty volumes upon my bed. + </p> + <p> + “These you can consult at your leisure,” said he. “I have some notes here + which you can confirm. There is not a doubt that what you have seen is the + murder of Rizzio by the Scottish nobles in the presence of Mary, which + occurred in March, 1566. Your description of the woman is accurate. The + high forehead and heavy eyelids combined with great beauty could hardly + apply to two women. The tall young man was her husband, Darnley. Rizzio, + says the chronicle, ‘was dressed in a loose dressing-gown of furred + damask, with hose of russet velvet.’ With one hand he clutched Mary’s + gown, with the other he held a dagger. Your fierce, hollow-eyed man was + Ruthven, who was new-risen from a bed of sickness. Every detail is exact.” + </p> + <p> + “But why to me?” I asked, in bewilderment. “Why of all the human race to + me?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you were in the fit mental state to receive the impression. + Because you chanced to own the mirror which gave the impression.” + </p> + <p> + “The mirror! You think, then, that it was Mary’s mirror—that it + stood in the room where the deed was done?” + </p> + <p> + “I am convinced that it was Mary’s mirror. She had been Queen of France. + Her personal property would be stamped with the Royal arms. What you took + to be three spear-heads were really the lilies of France.” + </p> + <p> + “And the inscription?” + </p> + <p> + “‘Sanc. X. Pal.’ You can expand it into Sanctae Crucis Palatium. Some one + has made a note upon the mirror as to whence it came. It was the Palace of + the Holy Cross.” + </p> + <p> + “Holyrood!” I cried. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly. Your mirror came from Holyrood. You have had one very singular + experience, and have escaped. I trust that you will never put yourself + into the way of having such another.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY + </h2> + <p> + Sharkey, the abominable Sharkey, was out again. After two years of the + Coromandel coast, his black barque of death, <i>The Happy Delivery</i>, + was prowling off the Spanish Main, while trader and fisher flew for dear + life at the menace of that patched fore-topsail, rising slowly over the + violet rim of the tropical sea. + </p> + <p> + As the birds cower when the shadow of the hawk falls athwart the field, or + as the jungle folk crouch and shiver when the coughing cry of the tiger is + heard in the night-time, so through all the busy world of ships, from the + whalers of Nantucket to the tobacco ships of Charleston, and from the + Spanish supply ships of Cadiz to the sugar merchants of the Main, there + spread the rumour of the black curse of the ocean. + </p> + <p> + Some hugged the shore, ready to make for the nearest port, while others + struck far out beyond the known lines of commerce, but none were so + stout-hearted that they did not breathe more freely when their passengers + and cargoes were safe under the guns of some mothering fort. + </p> + <p> + Through all the islands there ran tales of charred derelicts at sea, of + sudden glares seen afar in the night-time, and of withered bodies + stretched upon the sand of waterless Bahama Keys. All the old signs were + there to show that Sharkey was at his bloody game once more. + </p> + <p> + These fair waters and yellow-rimmed, palm-nodding islands are the + traditional home of the sea rover. First it was the gentleman adventurer, + the man of family and honour, who fought as a patriot, though he was ready + to take his payment in Spanish plunder. + </p> + <p> + Then, within a century, his debonnaire figure had passed to make room for + the buccaneers, robbers pure and simple, yet with some organized code of + their own, commanded by notable chieftains, and taking in hand great + concerted enterprises. + </p> + <p> + They, too, passed with their fleets and their sacking of cities, to make + room for the worst of all, the lonely outcast pirate, the bloody Ishmael + of the seas, at war with the whole human race. This was the vile brood + which the early eighteenth century had spawned forth, and of them all + there was none who could compare in audacity, wickedness, and evil repute + with the unutterable Sharkey. + </p> + <p> + It was early in May, in the year 1720, that <i>The Happy Delivery</i> lay + with her fore-yard aback some five leagues west of the Windward Passage, + waiting to see what rich, helpless craft the trade-wind might bring down + to her. + </p> + <p> + Three days she had lain there, a sinister black speck, in the centre of + the great sapphire circle of the ocean. Far to the south-east the low blue + hills of Hispaniola showed up on the skyline. + </p> + <p> + Hour by hour as he waited without avail, Sharkey’s savage temper had + risen, for his arrogant spirit chafed against any contradiction, even from + Fate itself. To his quartermaster, Ned Galloway, he had said that night, + with his odious neighing laugh, that the crew of the next captured vessel + should answer to him for having kept him waiting so long. + </p> + <p> + The cabin of the pirate barque was a good-sized room, hung with much + tarnished finery, and presenting a strange medley of luxury and disorder. + The panelling of carved and polished sandal-wood was blotched with foul + smudges and chipped with bullet-marks fired in some drunken revelry. + </p> + <p> + Rich velvets and laces were heaped upon the brocaded settees, while + metal-work and pictures of great price filled every niche and corner, for + anything which caught the pirate’s fancy in the sack of a hundred vessels + was thrown haphazard into his chamber. A rich, soft carpet covered the + floor, but it was mottled with wine-stains and charred with burned + tobacco. + </p> + <p> + Above, a great brass hanging-lamp threw a brilliant yellow light upon this + singular apartment, and upon the two men who sat in their shirt-sleeves + with the wine between them, and the cards in their hands, deep in a game + of piquet. Both were smoking long pipes, and the thin blue reek filled the + cabin and floated through the skylight above them, which, half opened, + disclosed a slip of deep violet sky spangled with great silver stars. + </p> + <p> + Ned Galloway, the quartermaster, was a huge New England wastrel, the one + rotten branch upon a goodly Puritan family tree. His robust limbs and + giant frame were the heritage of a long line of God-fearing ancestors, + while his black savage heart was all his own. Bearded to the temples, with + fierce blue eyes, a tangled lion’s mane of coarse, dark hair, and huge + gold rings in his ears, he was the idol of the women in every waterside + hell from the Tortugas to Maracaibo on the Main. A red cap, a blue silken + shirt, brown velvet breeches with gaudy knee-ribbons, and high sea-boots + made up the costume of the rover Hercules. + </p> + <p> + A very different figure was Captain John Sharkey. His thin, drawn, + clean-shaven face was corpse-like in its pallor, and all the suns of the + Indies could but turn it to a more deathly parchment tint. He was part + bald, with a few lank locks of tow-like hair, and a steep, narrow + forehead. His thin nose jutted sharply forth, and near-set on either side + of it were those filmy blue eyes, red-rimmed like those of a white + bull-terrier, from which strong men winced away in fear and loathing. His + bony hands, with long, thin fingers which quivered ceaselessly like the + antennae of an insect, were toying constantly with the cards and the heap + of gold moidores which lay before him. His dress was of some sombre drab + material, but, indeed, the men who looked upon that fearsome face had + little thought for the costume of its owner. + </p> + <p> + The game was brought to a sudden interruption, for the cabin door was + swung rudely open, and two rough fellows—Israel Martin, the + boatswain, and Red Foley, the gunner—rushed into the cabin. In an + instant Sharkey was on his feet with a pistol in either hand and murder in + his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Sink you for villains!” he cried. “I see well that if I do not shoot one + of you from time to time you will forget the man I am. What mean you by + entering my cabin as though it were a Wapping alehouse?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Captain Sharkey,” said Martin, with a sullen frown upon his + brick-red face, “it is even such talk as this which has set us by the + ears. We have had enough of it.” + </p> + <p> + “And more than enough,” said Red Foley, the gunner. “There be no mates + aboard a pirate craft, and so the boatswain, the gunner, and the + quarter-master are the officers.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I gainsay it?” asked Sharkey with an oath. + </p> + <p> + “You have miscalled us and mishandled us before the men, and we scarce + know at this moment why we should risk our lives in fighting for the cabin + and against the foc’sle.” + </p> + <p> + Sharkey saw that something serious was in the wind. He laid down his + pistols and leaned back in his chair with a flash of his yellow fangs. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, this is sad talk,” said he, “that two stout fellows who have emptied + many a bottle and cut many a throat with me, should now fall out over + nothing. I know you to be roaring boys who would go with me against the + devil himself if I bid you. Let the steward bring cups and drown all + unkindness between us.” + </p> + <p> + “It is no time for drinking, Captain Sharkey,” said Martin. “The men are + holding council round the mainmast, and may be aft at any minute. They + mean mischief, Captain Sharkey, and we have come to warn you.” + </p> + <p> + Sharkey sprang for the brass-handled sword which hung from the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Sink them for rascals!” he cried. “When I have gutted one or two of them + they may hear reason.” + </p> + <p> + But the others barred his frantic way to the door. + </p> + <p> + “There are forty of them under the lead of Sweetlocks, the master,” said + Martin, “and on the open deck they would surely cut you to pieces. Here + within the cabin it may be that we can hold them off at the points of our + pistols.” + </p> + <p> + He had hardly spoken when there came the tread of many heavy feet upon the + deck. Then there was a pause with no sound but the gentle lipping of the + water against the sides of the pirate vessel. Finally, a crashing blow as + from a pistol-butt fell upon the door, and an instant afterwards + Sweetlocks himself, a tall, dark man, with a deep red birthmark blazing + upon his cheek, strode into the cabin. His swaggering air sank somewhat as + he looked into those pale and filmy eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Sharkey,” said he, “I come as spokesman of the crew.” + </p> + <p> + “So I have heard, Sweetlocks,” said the captain, softly. “I may live to + rip you the length of your vest for this night’s work.” + </p> + <p> + “That is as it may be, Captain Sharkey,” the master answered, “but if you + will look up you will see that I have those at my back who will not see me + mishandled.” + </p> + <p> + “Cursed if we do!” growled a deep voice from above, and glancing upwards + the officers in the cabin were aware of a line of fierce, bearded, + sun-blackened faces looking down at them through the open skylight. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what would you have?” asked Sharkey. “Put it in words, man, and let + us have an end of it.” + </p> + <p> + “The men think,” said Sweetlocks, “that you are the devil himself, and + that there will be no luck for them whilst they sail the sea in such + company. Time was when we did our two or three craft a day, and every man + had women and dollars to his liking, but now for a long week we have not + raised a sail, and save for three beggarly sloops, have taken never a + vessel since we passed the Bahama Bank. Also, they know that you killed + Jack Bartholomew, the carpenter, by beating his head in with a bucket, so + that each of us goes in fear of his life. Also, the rum has given out, and + we are hard put to it for liquor. Also, you sit in your cabin whilst it is + in the articles that you should drink and roar with the crew. For all + these reasons it has been this day in general meeting decreed—” + </p> + <p> + Sharkey had stealthily cocked a pistol under the table, so it may have + been as well for the mutinous master that he never reached the end of his + discourse, for even as he came to it there was a swift patter of feet upon + the deck, and a ship lad, wild with his tidings, rushed into the room. + </p> + <p> + “A craft!” he yelled. “A great craft, and close aboard us!” + </p> + <p> + In a flash the quarrel was forgotten, and the pirates were rushing to + quarters. Sure enough, surging slowly down before the gentle trade-wind, a + great full-rigged ship, with all sail set, was close beside them. + </p> + <p> + It was clear that she had come from afar and knew nothing of the ways of + the Caribbean Sea, for she made no effort to avoid the low, dark craft + which lay so close upon her bow, but blundered on as if her mere size + would avail her. + </p> + <p> + So daring was she, that for an instant the Rovers, as they flew to loose + the tackles of their guns, and hoisted their battle-lanterns, believed + that a man-of-war had caught them napping. + </p> + <p> + But at the sight of her bulging, portless sides and merchant rig a shout + of exultation broke from amongst them, and in an instant they had swung + round their fore-yard, and darting alongside they had grappled with her + and flung a spray of shrieking, cursing ruffians upon her deck. + </p> + <p> + Half a dozen seamen of the night-watch were cut down where they stood, the + mate was felled by Sharkey and tossed overboard by Ned Galloway, and + before the sleepers had time to sit up in their berths, the vessel was in + the hands of the pirates. + </p> + <p> + The prize proved to be the full-rigged ship <i>Portobello</i>—Captain + Hardy, master—bound from London to Kingston in Jamaica, with a cargo + of cotton goods and hoop-iron. + </p> + <p> + Having secured their prisoners, all huddled together in a dazed, + distracted group, the pirates spread over the vessel in search of plunder, + handing all that was found to the giant quartermaster, who in turn passed + it over the side of <i>The Happy Delivery</i> and laid it under guard at + the foot of her mainmast. + </p> + <p> + The cargo was useless, but there were a thousand guineas in the ship’s + strong-box, and there were some eight or ten passengers, three of them + wealthy Jamaica merchants, all bringing home well-filled boxes from their + London visit. + </p> + <p> + When all the plunder was gathered, the passengers and crew were dragged to + the waist, and under the cold smile of Sharkey each in turn was thrown + over the side—Sweetlocks standing by the rail and ham-stringing them + with his cutlass as they passed over, lest some strong swimmer should rise + in judgment against them. A portly, grey-haired woman, the wife of one of + the planters, was among the captives, but she also was thrust screaming + and clutching over the side. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy, you hussy!” neighed Sharkey, “you are surely a good twenty years + too old for that.” + </p> + <p> + The captain of the <i>Portobello</i>, a hale, blue-eyed grey-beard, was + the last upon the deck. He stood, a thick-set resolute figure, in the + glare of the lanterns, while Sharkey bowed and smirked before him. + </p> + <p> + “One skipper should show courtesy to another,” said he, “and sink me if + Captain Sharkey would be behind in good manners! I have held you to the + last, as you see, where a brave man should be; so now, my bully, you have + seen the end of them, and may step over with an easy mind.” + </p> + <p> + “So I shall, Captain Sharkey,” said the old seaman, “for I have done my + duty so far as my power lay. But before I go over I would say a word in + your ear.” + </p> + <p> + “If it be to soften me, you may save your breath. You have kept us waiting + here for three days, and curse me if one of you shall live!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, it is to tell you what you should know. You have not yet found what + is the true treasure aboard of this ship.” + </p> + <p> + “Not found it? Sink me, but I will slice your liver, Captain Hardy, if you + do not make good your words! Where is this treasure you speak of?” “It is + not a treasure of gold, but it is a fair maid, which may be no less + welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is she, then? And why is she not with the others?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you why she is not with the others. She is the only daughter + of the Count and Countess Ramirez, who are amongst those whom you have + murdered. Her name is Inez Ramirez, and she is of the best blood of Spain, + her father being Governor of Chagre, to which he was now bound. It chanced + that she was found to have formed an attachment, as maids will, to one far + beneath her in rank aboard this ship; so her parents, being people of + great power, whose word is not to be gainsaid, constrained me to confine + her close in a special cabin aft of my own. Here she was held straitly, + all food being carried to her, and she allowed to see no one. This I tell + you as a last gift, though why I should make it to you I do not know, for + indeed you are a most bloody rascal, and it comforts me in dying to think + that you will surely be gallow’s-meat in this world, and hell’s-meat in + the next.” + </p> + <p> + At the words he ran to the rail, and vaulted over into the darkness, + praying as he sank into the depths of the sea, that the betrayal of this + maid might not be counted too heavily against his soul. + </p> + <p> + The body of Captain Hardy had not yet settled upon the sand forty fathoms + deep before the pirates had rushed along the cabin gangway. There, sure + enough, at the further end, was a barred door, overlooked in their + previous search. There was no key, but they beat it in with their + gunstocks, whilst shriek after shriek came from within. In the light of + their outstretched lanterns they saw a young woman, in the very prime and + fullness of her youth, crouching in a corner, her unkempt hair hanging to + the ground, her dark eyes glaring with fear, her lovely form straining + away in horror from this inrush of savage blood-stained men. Rough hands + seized her, she was jerked to her feet, and dragged with scream on scream + to where John Sharkey awaited her. He held the light long and fondly to + her face, then, laughing loudly, he bent forward and left his red + hand-print upon her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis the Rover’s brand, lass, that he marks his ewes. Take her to the + cabin and use her well. Now, hearties, get her under water, and out to our + luck once more.” + </p> + <p> + Within an hour the good ship <i>Portobello</i> had settled down to her + doom, till she lay beside her murdered passengers upon the Caribbean sand, + while the pirate barque, her deck littered with plunder, was heading + northward in search of another victim. + </p> + <p> + There was a carouse that night in the cabin of <i>The Happy Delivery</i>, + at which three men drank deep. They were the captain, the quartermaster, + and Baldy Stable, the surgeon, a man who had held the first practice in + Charleston, until, misusing a patient, he fled from justice, and took his + skill over to the pirates. A bloated fat man he was, with a creased neck + and a great shining scalp, which gave him his name. Sharkey had put for + the moment all thought of the mutiny out of his head, knowing that no + animal is fierce when it is over-fed, and that whilst the plunder of the + great ship was new to them he need fear no trouble from his crew. He gave + himself up, therefore, to the wine and the riot, shouting and roaring with + his boon companions. All three were flushed and mad, ripe for any + devilment, when the thought of the woman crossed the pirate’s evil mind. + He yelled to the negro steward that he should bring her on the instant. + </p> + <p> + Inez Ramirez had now realized it all—the death of her father and + mother, and her own position in the hands of their murderers. Yet calmness + had come with the knowledge, and there was no sign of terror in her proud, + dark face as she was led into the cabin, but rather a strange, firm set of + the mouth and an exultant gleam of the eyes, like one who sees great hopes + in the future. She smiled at the pirate captain as he rose and seized her + by the waist. + </p> + <p> + “‘Fore God! this is a lass of spirit,” cried Sharkey, passing his arm + round her. “She was born to be a Rover’s bride. Come, my bird, and drink + to our better friendship.” + </p> + <p> + “Article Six!” hiccoughed the doctor. “All <i>bona robas</i> in common.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye! we hold you to that, Captain Sharkey,” said Galloway. “It is so writ + in Article Six.” + </p> + <p> + “I will cut the man into ounces who comes betwixt us!” cried Sharkey, as + he turned his fish-like eyes from one to the other. “Nay, lass, the man is + not born that will take you from John Sharkey. Sit here upon my knee, and + place your arm round me so. Sink me, if she has not learned to love me at + sight! Tell me, my pretty, why you were so mishandled and laid in the + bilboes aboard yonder craft?” + </p> + <p> + The woman shook her head and smiled. “No Inglese—no Inglese,” she + lisped. She had drunk off the bumper of wine which Sharkey held to her, + and her dark eyes gleamed more brightly than before. Sitting on Sharkey’s + knee, her arm encircled his neck, and her hand toyed with his hair, his + ear, his cheek. Even the strange quartermaster and the hardened surgeon + felt a horror as they watched her, but Sharkey laughed in his joy. “Curse + me, if she is not a lass of metal!” he cried, as he pressed her to him and + kissed her unresisting lips. + </p> + <p> + But a strange intent look of interest had come into the surgeon’s eyes as + he watched her, and his face set rigidly, as if a fearsome thought had + entered his mind. There stole a grey pallor over his bull face, mottling + all the red of the tropics and the flush of the wine. + </p> + <p> + “Look at her hand, Captain Sharkey!” he cried. “For the Lord’s sake, look + at her hand!” + </p> + <p> + Sharkey stared down at the hand which had fondled him. It was of a strange + dead pallor, with a yellow shiny web betwixt the fingers. All over it was + a white fluffy dust, like the flour of a new-baked loaf. It lay thick on + Sharkey’s neck and cheek. With a cry of disgust he flung the woman from + his lap; but in an instant, with a wild-cat bound, and a scream of + triumphant malice, she had sprung at the surgeon, who vanished yelling + under the table. One of her clawing hands grasped Galloway by the beard, + but he tore himself away, and snatching a pike, held her off from him as + she gibbered and mowed with the blazing eyes of a maniac. + </p> + <p> + The black steward had run in on the sudden turmoil, and among them they + forced the mad creature back into a cabin and turned the key upon her. + Then the three sank panting into their chairs, and looked with eyes of + horror upon each other. The same word was in the mind of each, but + Galloway was the first to speak it. + </p> + <p> + “A leper!” he cried. “She has us all, curse her!” + </p> + <p> + “Not me,” said the surgeon; “she never laid her finger on me.” + </p> + <p> + “For that matter,” cried Galloway, “it was but my beard that she touched. + I will have every hair of it off before morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Dolts that we were!” the surgeon shouted, beating his head with his hand. + “Tainted or no, we shall never know a moment’s peace till the year is up + and the time of danger past. ‘Fore God, that merchant skipper has left his + mark on us, and pretty fools we were to think that such a maid would be + quarantined for the cause he gave. It is easy to see now that her + corruption broke forth in the journey, and that save throwing her over + they had no choice but to board her up until they should come to some port + with a lazarette.” + </p> + <p> + Sharkey had sat leaning back in his chair with a ghastly face while he + listened to the surgeon’s words. He mopped himself with his red + handkerchief, and wiped away the fatal dust with which he was smeared. + </p> + <p> + “What of me?” he croaked. “What say you, Baldy Stable? Is there a chance + for me? Curse you for a villain! speak out, or I will drub you within an + inch of your life, and that inch also! Is there a chance for me, I say?” + </p> + <p> + But the surgeon shook his head. “Captain Sharkey,” said he, “it would be + an ill deed to speak you false. The taint is on you. No man on whom the + leper scales have rested is ever clean again.” + </p> + <p> + Sharkey’s head fell forward on his chest, and he sat motionless, stricken + by this great and sudden horror, looking with his smouldering eyes into + his fearsome future. Softly the mate and the surgeon rose from their + places, and stealing out from the poisoned air of the cabin, came forth + into the freshness of the early dawn, with the soft, scent-laden breeze in + their faces and the first red feathers of cloud catching the earliest + gleam of the rising sun as it shot its golden rays over the palm-clad + ridges of distant Hispaniola. + </p> + <p> + That morning a second council of the Rovers was held at the base of the + mainmast, and a deputation chosen to see the captain. They were + approaching the after-cabins when Sharkey came forth, the old devil in his + eyes, and his bandolier with a pair of pistols over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Sink you all for villains!” he cried, “Would you dare to cross my hawse? + Stand out, Sweetlocks, and I will lay you open! Here, Galloway, Martin, + Foley, stand by me and lash the dogs to their kennel!” + </p> + <p> + But his officers had deserted him, and there was none to come to his aid. + There was a rush of the pirates. One was shot through the body, but an + instant afterwards Sharkey had been seized and was triced to his own + mainmast. His filmy eyes looked round from face to face, and there was + none who felt the happier for having met them. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Sharkey,” said Sweetlocks, “you have mishandled many of us, and + you have now pistolled John Masters, besides killing Bartholomew, the + carpenter, by braining him with a bucket. All this might have been + forgiven you, in that you have been our leader for years, and that we have + signed articles to serve under you while the voyage lasts. But now we have + heard of this bona roba on board, and we know that you are poisoned to the + marrow, and that while you rot there will be no safety for any of us, but + that we shall all be turned into filth and corruption. Therefore, John + Sharkey, we Rovers of <i>The Happy Delivery</i>, in council assembled, + have decreed that while there be yet time, before the plague spreads, you + shall be set adrift in a boat to find such a fate as Fortune may be + pleased to send you.” + </p> + <p> + John Sharkey said nothing, but slowly circling his head, he cursed them + all with his baleful gaze. The ship’s dinghy had been lowered, and he with + his hands still tied, was dropped into it on the bight of a rope. + </p> + <p> + “Cast her off!” cried Sweetlocks. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, hold hard a moment, Master Sweetlocks!” shouted one of the crew. + “What of the wench? Is she to bide aboard and poison us all?” + </p> + <p> + “Send her off with her mate!” cried another, and the Rovers roared their + approval. Driven forth at the end of pikes, the girl was pushed towards + the boat. With all the spirit of Spain in her rotting body she flashed + triumphant glances on her captors. “Perros! Perros Ingleses! Lepero, + Lepero!” she cried in exultation, as they thrust her over into the boat. + </p> + <p> + “Good luck, captain! God speed you on your honeymoon!” cried a chorus of + mocking voices, as the painter was unloosed, and <i>The Happy Delivery</i>, + running full before the trade-wind, left the little boat astern, a tiny + dot upon the vast expanse of the lonely sea. + </p> + <p> + Extract from the log of H.M. fifty-gun ship <i>Hecate</i> in her cruise + off the American Main. + </p> + <p> + “Jan. 26, 1721.—This day, the junk having become unfit for food, and + five of the crew down with scurvy, I ordered that we send two boats ashore + at the nor’-western point of Hispaniola, to seek for fresh fruit, and + perchance shoot some of the wild oxen with which the island abounds. + </p> + <p> + “7 p.m.—The boats have returned with good store of green stuff and + two bullocks. Mr. Woodruff, the master, reports that near the + landing-place at the edge of the forest was found the skeleton of a woman, + clad in European dress, of such sort as to show that she may have been a + person of quality. Her head had been crushed by a great stone which lay + beside her. Hard by was a grass hut, and signs that a man had dwelt + therein for some time, as was shown by charred wood, bones and other + traces. There is a rumour upon the coast that Sharkey, the bloody pirate, + was marooned in these parts last year, but whether he has made his way + into the interior, or whether he has been picked up by some craft, there + is no means of knowing. If he be once again afloat, then I pray that God + send him under our guns.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER + </h2> + <p> + I am speaking, my friends, of days which are long gone by, when I had + scarcely begun to build up that fame which has made my name so familiar. + Among the thirty officers of the Hussars of Conflans there was nothing to + indicate that I was superior in any way to the others. I can well imagine + how surprised they would all have been had they realized that young + Lieutenant Etienne Gerard was destined for so glorious a career, and would + live to command a brigade and to receive from the Emperor’s own hands that + cross which I can show you any time that you do me the honour to visit me + in my little cottage. You know, do you not, the little white-washed + cottage with the vine in front, in the field beside the Garonne? + </p> + <p> + People have said of me that I have never known what fear was. No doubt you + have heard them say it. For many years, out of a foolish pride, I have let + the saying pass. And yet now, in my old age, I can afford to be honest. + The brave man dares to be frank. It is only the coward who is afraid to + make admissions. So I tell you now that I also am human; that I also have + felt my skin grow cold, and my hair rise; that I have even known what it + was to run away until my limbs could scarce support me. It shocks you to + hear it? Well, some day it may comfort you, when your own courage has + reached its limits, to know that even Etienne Gerard has known what it was + to be afraid. I will tell you now how this experience befell me, and also + how it brought me a wife. + </p> + <p> + For the moment France was at peace, and we, the Hussars of Conflans, were + in camp all that summer a few miles from the town of Les Andelys in + Normandy. It is not a very gay place by itself, but we of the Light + Cavalry make all places gay which we visit, and so we passed our time very + pleasantly. Many years and many scenes have dulled my remembrance, but + still the name Les Andelys brings back to me a huge ruined castle, great + orchards of apple trees, and above all, a vision of the lovely maidens of + Normandy. They were the very finest of their sex, as we may be said to + have been of ours, and so we were well met in that sweet sunlit summer. + Ah, the youth, the beauty, the valour, and then the dull, dead years that + blurr them all! There are times when the glorious past weighs on my heart + like lead. No, sir, no wine can wash away such thoughts, for they are of + the spirit and the soul. It is only the gross body which responds to wine, + but if you offer it for that, then I will not refuse it. + </p> + <p> + Now of all the maidens who dwelt in those parts there was one who was so + superior in beauty and in charm that she seemed to be very specially + marked out for me. Her name was Marie Ravon, and her people, the Ravons, + were of yeoman stock who had farmed their own land in those parts since + the days when Duke William went to England. If I close my eyes now, I see + her as she then was, her cheeks, dusky like moss roses; her hazel eyes, so + gentle and yet so full of spirit; her hair of that deepest black which + goes most fitly with poetry and with passion; her finger as supple as a + young birch tree in the wind. Ah! how she swayed away from me when first I + laid my arm round it, for she was full of fire and pride, ever evading, + ever resisting, fighting to the last that her surrender might be the more + sweet. Out of a hundred and forty women—But who can compare where + all are so near perfection! + </p> + <p> + You will wonder why it should be, if this maiden was so beautiful, that I + should be left without a rival. There was a very good reason, my friends, + for I so arranged it that my rivals were in the hospital. There was + Hippolyte Lesoeur, he visited them for two Sundays; but if he lives, I + dare swear that he still limps from the bullet which lodges in his knee. + Poor Victor also—up to his death at Austerlitz he wore my mark. Soon + it was understood that if I could not win Marie, I should at least have a + fair field in which to try. It was said in our camp that it was safer to + charge a square of unbroken infantry than to be seen too often at the + farmhouse of the Ravons. + </p> + <p> + Now let me be precise for a moment. Did I wish to marry Marie? Ah! my + friends, marriage is not for a Hussar. Today he is in Normandy; tomorrow + he is in the hills of Spain or in the bogs of Poland. What shall he do + with a wife? Would it be fair to either of them? Can it be right that his + courage should be blunted by the thought of the despair which his death + would bring, or is it reasonable that she should be left fearing lest + every post should bring her the news of irreparable misfortune? A Hussar + can but warm himself at the fire, and then hurry onwards, too happy if he + can but pass another fire from which some comfort may come. And Marie, did + she wish to marry me? She knew well that when our silver trumpets blew the + march it would be over the grave of our married life. Better far to hold + fast to her own people and her own soil, where she and her husband could + dwell for ever amid the rich orchards and within sight of the great Castle + of Le Galliard. Let her remember her Hussar in her dreams, but let her + waking days be spent in the world as she finds it. Meanwhile we pushed + such thoughts from our minds, and gave ourselves up to a sweet + companionship, each day complete in itself with never a thought of the + morrow. It is true that there were times when her father, a stout old + gentleman with a face like one of his own apples, and her mother, a thin + anxious woman of the country, gave me hints that they would wish to be + clearer as to my intentions; but in their hearts they each knew well that + Etienne Gerard was a man of honour, and that their daughter was very safe + as well as very happy in his keeping. So the matter stood until the night + of which I speak. + </p> + <p> + It was the Sunday evening, and I had ridden over from the camp. There were + several of our fellows who were visiting the village, and we all left our + horses at the inn. Thence I had to walk to the Ravons, which was only + separated by a single very large field extending to the very door. I was + about to start when the landlord ran after me. “Excuse me, lieutenant,” + said he, “it is farther by the road, and yet I should advise you to take + it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a mile or more out of my way.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it. But I think that it would be wiser,” and he smiled as he + spoke. + </p> + <p> + “And why?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Because,” said he, “the English bull is loose in the field.” + </p> + <p> + If it were not for that odious smile, I might have considered it. But to + hold a danger over me and then to smile in such a fashion was more than my + proud temper could bear. I indicated by a gesture what I thought of the + English bull. + </p> + <p> + “I will go by the shortest way,” said I. + </p> + <p> + I had no sooner set my foot in the field than I felt that my spirit had + betrayed me into rashness. It was a very large square field, and as I came + further out into it I felt like the cockle-shell which ventures out from + land and sees no port save that from which it has issued. There was a wall + on every side of the field save that from which I had come. In front of me + was the farmhouse of the Ravons, with wall extending to right and left. A + back door opened upon the field, and there were several windows, but all + were barred, as is usual in the Norman farms. I pushed on rapidly to the + door, as being the only harbour of safety, walking with dignity as befits + a soldier, and yet with such speed as I could summon. From the waist + upwards I was unconcerned and even debonnaire. Below, I was swift and + alert. + </p> + <p> + I had nearly reached the middle of the field when I perceived the + creature. He was rooting about with his fore feet under a large beech tree + which lay upon my right hand. I did not turn my head, nor would the + bystander have detected that I took notice of him, but my eye was watching + him with anxiety. It may have been that he was in a contented mood, or it + may have been that he was arrested by the nonchalance of my bearing, but + he made no movement in my direction. Reassured, I fixed my eyes upon the + open window of Marie’s bed-chamber, which was immediately over the back + door, in the hope that those dear, tender, dark eyes, were surveying me + from behind the curtains. I flourished my little cane, loitered to pick a + primrose, and sang one of our devil-may-care choruses in order to insult + this English beast, and to show my love how little I cared for danger when + it stood between her and me. The creature was abashed by my fearlessness, + and so, pushing open the back door, I was able to enter the farmhouse in + safety and in honour. + </p> + <p> + And was it not worth the danger? Had all the bulls of Castile guarded the + entrance, would it not still have been worth it? Ah, the hours, the sunny + hours, which can never come back, when our youthful feet seemed scarce to + touch the ground, and we lived in a sweet dreamland of our own creation! + She honoured my courage, and she loved me for it. As she lay with her + flushed cheek pillowed against the silk of my dolman, looking up at me + with her wondering eyes, shining with love and admiration, she marvelled + at the stories in which I gave her some pictures of the true character of + her lover. + </p> + <p> + “Has your heart never failed you? Have you never known the feeling of + fear?” she asked. I laughed at such a thought. What place could fear have + in the mind of a Hussar? Young as I was, I had given my proofs. I told her + how I had led my squadron into a square of Hungarian Grenadiers. She + shuddered as she embraced me. I told her also how I had swum my horse over + the Danube at night with a message for Davoust. To be frank, it was not + the Danube, nor was it so deep that I was compelled to swim, but when one + is twenty and in love, one tells a story as best one can. Many such + stories I told her, while her dear eyes grew more and more amazed. + </p> + <p> + “Never in my dreams, Etienne,” said she, “did I believe that so brave a + man existed. Lucky France that has such a soldier, lucky Marie that has + such a lover!” + </p> + <p> + You can think how I flung myself at her feet as I murmured that I was the + luckiest of all—I who had found some one who could appreciate and + understand. + </p> + <p> + It was a charming relationship, too infinitely sweet and delicate for the + interference of coarser minds. But you can understand that the parents + imagined that they also had their duty to do. I played dominoes with the + old man, and I wound wool for his wife, and yet they could not be led to + believe that it was from love of them that I came thrice a week to their + farm. For some time an explanation was inevitable, and that night it came. + Marie, in delightful mutiny, was packed off to her room, and I faced the + old people in the parlour as they plied me with questions upon my + prospects and my intentions. + </p> + <p> + “One way or the other,” they said, in their blunt country fashion. “Let us + hear that you are betrothed to Marie, or let us never see your face + again.” + </p> + <p> + I spoke of my honour, my hopes, and my future, but they remained immovable + upon the present. I pleaded my career, but they in their selfish way would + think of nothing but their daughter. It was indeed a difficult position in + which I found myself. On the one hand, I could not forsake my Marie; on + the other, what would a young Hussar do with marriage? At last, hard + pressed, I begged them to leave the matter, if it were only for a day. + </p> + <p> + “I will see Marie,” said I, “I will see her without delay. It is her heart + and her happiness which come before all else.” + </p> + <p> + They were not satisfied, these grumbling old people, but they could say no + more. They bade me a short good night and I departed, full of perplexity, + for the inn. I came out by the same door which I had entered, and I heard + them lock and bar it behind me. + </p> + <p> + I walked across the field lost in thought, with my mind entirely filled + with the arguments of the old people and the skilful replies which I had + made to them. What should I do? I had promised to see Marie without delay. + What should I say to her when I did see her? Would I surrender to her + beauty and turn my back upon my profession? If Etienne Gerard’s sword were + turned to a scythe, then indeed it was a bad day for the Emperor and + France. Or should I harden my heart and turn away from Marie? Or was it + not possible that all might be reconciled; that I might be a happy husband + in Normandy but a brave soldier elsewhere? All these thoughts were buzzing + in my head, when a sudden noise made me look up. The moon had come from + behind a cloud, and there was the bull before me. + </p> + <p> + He had seemed a large animal beneath the beech tree, but now he appeared + enormous. He was black in colour. His head was held down, and the moon + shone upon two menacing and bloodshot eyes. His tail switched swiftly from + side to side, and his fore feet dug into the earth. A more + horrible-looking monster was never seen in a nightmare. He was moving + slowly and stealthily in my direction. + </p> + <p> + I glanced behind me, and I found that in my distraction I had come a very + long way from the edge of the field. I was more than half-way across it. + My nearest refuge was the inn, but the bull was between me and it. Perhaps + if the creature understood how little I feared him, he would make way for + me. I shrugged my shoulders and made a gesture of contempt. I even + whistled. The creature thought I called it, for he approached with + alacrity. I kept my face boldly towards him, but I walked swiftly + backwards. When one is young and active, one can almost run backwards and + yet keep a brave and smiling face to the enemy. As I ran I menaced the + animal with my cane. Perhaps it would have been wiser had I restrained my + spirit. He regarded it as a challenge—which, indeed, was the last + thing in my mind. It was a misunderstanding, but a fatal one. With a snort + he raised his tail and charged. + </p> + <p> + Have you ever seen a bull charge, my friends? It is a strange sight. You + think, perhaps, that he trots, or even that he gallops. No, it is worse + than this. It is a succession of bounds by which he advances, each more + menacing than the last. I have no fear of anything which man can do. When + I deal with man, I feel that the nobility of my own attitude, the gallant + ease with which I face him, will in itself go far to disarm him. What he + can do, I can do, so why should I fear him? But when it is a ton of + enraged beef with which you contend, it is another matter. You cannot hope + to argue, to soften, to conciliate. There is no resistance possible. My + proud assurance was all wasted upon the creature. In an instant my ready + wit had weighed every possible course, and had determined that no one, not + the Emperor himself, could hold his ground. There was but one course—to + fly. + </p> + <p> + But one may fly in many ways. One may fly with dignity or one may fly in + panic. I fled, I trust, like a soldier. My bearing was superb though my + legs moved rapidly. My whole appearance was a protest against the position + in which I was placed. I smiled as I ran—the bitter smile of the + brave man who mocks his own fate. Had all my comrades surrounded the + field, they could not have thought the less of me when they saw the + disdain with which I avoided the bull. + </p> + <p> + But here it is that I must make my confession. When once flight commences, + though it be ever so soldierly, panic follows hard upon it. Was it not so + with the Guard at Waterloo? So it was that night with Etienne Gerard. + After all, there was no one to note my bearing—no one save this + accursed bull. If for a minute I forgot my dignity, who would be the + wiser? Every moment the thunder of the hoofs and the horrible snorts of + the monster drew nearer to my heels. Horror filled me at the thought of so + ignoble a death. The brutal rage of the creature sent a chill to my heart. + In an instant everything was forgotten. There were in the world but two + creatures, the bull and I—he trying to kill me, I striving to + escape. I put down my head and I ran—I ran for my life. + </p> + <p> + It was for the house of the Ravons that I raced. But even as I reached it, + it flashed into my mind that there was no refuge for me there. The door + was locked. The lower windows were barred. The wall was high upon either + side. And the bull was nearer me with every stride. But oh, my friends, it + is at that supreme moment of danger that Etienne Gerard has ever risen to + his height. There was one path to safety, and in an instant I had chosen + it. + </p> + <p> + I have said that the window of Marie’s bedroom was above the door. The + curtains were closed, but the folding sides were thrown open, and a lamp + burned in the room. Young and active, I felt that I could spring high + enough to reach the edge of the window sill and to draw myself out of + danger. The monster was within touch of me as I sprang. Had I been + unaided, I should have done what I had planned. But even as in a superb + effort I rose from the earth he butted me into the air. I shot through the + curtains as if I had been fired from a gun, and I dropped upon my hands + and knees in the centre of the room. + </p> + <p> + There was, as it appears, a bed in the window, but I had passed over it in + safety. As I staggered to my feet I turned towards it in consternation, + but it was empty. My Marie sat in a low chair in the corner of the room, + and her flushed cheeks showed that she had been weeping. No doubt her + parents had given her some account of what had passed between us. She was + too amazed to move, and could only sit looking at me with her mouth open. + </p> + <p> + “Etienne!” she gasped. “Etienne!” + </p> + <p> + In an instant I was as full of resource as ever. There was but one course + for a gentleman, and I took it. + </p> + <p> + “Marie,” I cried, “forgive, oh forgive the abruptness of my return! Marie, + I have seen your parents tonight. I could not return to the camp without + asking you whether you will make me for ever happy by promising to be my + wife?” + </p> + <p> + It was long before she could speak, so great was her amazement. Then every + emotion was swept away in the one great flood of her admiration. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Etienne! my wonderful Etienne!” she cried, her arms round my neck. + “Was ever such love! Was ever such a man! As you stand there, white and + trembling with passion, you seem to me the very hero of my dreams. How + hard you breathe, my love, and what a spring it must have been which + brought you to my arms! At the instant that you came, I heard the tramp of + your war-horse without.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing more to explain, and when one is newly betrothed, one + finds other uses for one’s lips. But there was a scurry in the passage and + a pounding at the panels. At the crash of my arrival the old folk had + rushed to the cellar to see if the great cider cask had toppled off the + trestles, but now they were back and eager for admittance. I flung open + the door, and stood with Marie’s hand in mine. + </p> + <p> + “Behold your son!” I said. + </p> + <p> + Ah, the joy which I had brought to that humble household! It warms my + heart still when I think of it. It did not seem too strange to them that I + should fly in through the window, for who should be a hot-headed suitor if + it is not a gallant Hussar? And if the door be locked, then what way is + there but the window? Once more we assembled all four in the parlour, + while the cobwebbed bottle was brought up and the ancient glories of the + House of Ravon were unrolled before me. Once more I see the heavy-raftered + room, the two old smiling faces, the golden circle of the lamp-light, and + she, my Marie, the bride of my youth, won so strangely, and kept for so + short a time. + </p> + <p> + It was late when we parted. The old man came with me into the hall. + </p> + <p> + “You can go by the front door or the back,” said he. “The back way is the + shorter.” + </p> + <p> + “I think that I will take the front way,” I answered. “It may be a bit + longer, but it will give me the more time to think of Marie.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE + </h2> + <p> + A LEGEND OF THE RING + </p> + <p> + Tom Cribb, Champion of England, having finished his active career by his + two famous battles with the terrible Molineux, had settled down into the + public house which was known as the Union Arms, at the corner of Panton + Street in the Haymarket. Behind the bar of this hostelry there was a green + baize door which opened into a large, red-papered parlour, adorned by many + sporting prints and by the numerous cups and belts which were the + treasured trophies of the famous prize-fighter’s victorious career. In + this snuggery it was the custom of the Corinthians of the day to assemble + in order to discuss, over Tom Cribb’s excellent wines, the matches of the + past, to await the news of the present, and to arrange new ones for the + future. Hither also came his brother pugilists, especially such as were in + poverty or distress, for the Champion’s generosity was proverbial, and no + man of his own trade was ever turned from his door if cheering words or a + full meal could mend his condition. + </p> + <p> + On the morning in question—August 25, 1818—there were but two + men in this famous snuggery. One was Cribb himself—all run to flesh + since the time seven years before, when, training for his last fight, he + had done his forty miles a day with Captain Barclay over the Highland + roads. Broad and deep, as well as tall, he was a little short of twenty + stone in weight, but his heavy, strong face and lion eyes showed that the + spirit of the prize-fighter was not yet altogether overgrown by the fat of + the publican. Though it was not eleven o’clock, a great tankard of bitter + ale stood upon the table before him, and he was busy cutting up a plug of + black tobacco and rubbing the slices into powder between his horny + fingers. For all his record of desperate battles, he looked what he was—a + good-hearted, respectable householder, law-abiding and kindly, a happy and + prosperous man. + </p> + <p> + His companion, however, was by no means in the same easy circumstances, + and his countenance wore a very different expression. He was a tall and + well-formed man, some fifteen years younger than the Champion, and + recalling in the masterful pose of his face and in the fine spread of his + shoulders something of the manly beauty which had distinguished Cribb at + his prime. No one looking at his countenance could fail to see that he was + a fighting man by profession, and any judge of the fancy, considering his + six feet in height, his thirteen stone solid muscle, and his beautifully + graceful build, would admit that he had started his career with advantages + which, if they were only backed by the driving power of a stout heart, + must carry him far. Tom Winter, or Spring—as he chose to call + himself—had indeed come up from his Herefordshire home with a fine + country record of local successes, which had been enhanced by two + victories gained over formidable London heavy-weights. Three weeks before, + however, he had been defeated by the famous Painter, and the set-back + weighed heavily upon the young man’s spirit. + </p> + <p> + “Cheer up, lad,” said the Champion, glancing across from under his tufted + eyebrows at the disconsolate face of his companion. “Indeed, Tom, you take + it overhard.” + </p> + <p> + The young man groaned, but made no reply. “Others have been beat before + you and lived to be Champions of England. Here I sit with that very title. + Was I not beat down Broadwater way by George Nicholls in 1805? What then? + I fought on, and here I am. When the big Black came from America it was + not George Nicholls they sent for. I say to you—fight on, and by + George, I’ll see you in my own shoes yet!” + </p> + <p> + Tom Spring shook his head. “Never, if I have to fight you to get there, + Daddy.” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t keep it for ever, Tom. It’s beyond all reason. I’m going to lay + it down before all London at the Fives Courts next year, and it’s to you + that I want to hand it. I couldn’t train down to it now, lad. My day’s + done.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Dad, I’ll never bid for it till you choose to stand aside. After + that, it is as it may be.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, have a rest, Tom; wait for your chance, and, meantime, there’s + always a bed and crust for you here.” + </p> + <p> + Spring struck his clenched fist on his knee. “I know, Daddy! Ever since I + came up from Fownthorpe you’ve been as good as a father to me.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve an eye for a winner.” + </p> + <p> + “A pretty winner! Beat in forty rounds by Ned Painter.” + </p> + <p> + “You had beat him first.” + </p> + <p> + “And by the Lord, I will again!” + </p> + <p> + “So you will, lad. George Nicholls would never give me another shy. Knew + too much, he did. Bought a butcher’s shop in Bristol with the money, and + there he is to this day.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’ll come back on Painter, but I haven’t a shilling left. My backers + have lost faith in me. If it wasn’t for you, Daddy, I’d be in the kennel.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you nothing left, Tom?” + </p> + <p> + “Not the price of a meal. I left every penny I had, and my good name as + well, in the ring at Kingston. I’m hard put to it to live unless I can get + another fight, and who’s going to back me now?” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, man! the knowing ones will back you. You’re the top of the list, for + all Ned Painter. But there are other ways a man may earn a bit. There was + a lady in here this morning—nothing flash, boy, a real tip-top + out-and-outer with a coronet on her coach—asking after you.” + </p> + <p> + “Asking after me! A lady!” The young pugilist stood up with surprise and a + certain horror rising in his eyes. “You don’t mean, Daddy—” + </p> + <p> + “I mean nothing but what is honest, my lad. You can lay to that!” + </p> + <p> + “You said I could earn a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “So, perhaps, you can. Enough, anyhow, to tide you over your bad time. + There’s something in the wind there. It’s to do with fightin’. She asked + questions about your height, weight, and my opinion of your prospect. You + can lay that my answers did you no harm.” + </p> + <p> + “She ain’t making a match, surely?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she seemed to know a tidy bit about it. She asked about George + Cooper, and Richmond the Black, and Tom Oliver, always comin’ back to you, + and wantin’ to know if you were not the pick of the bunch. <i>And</i> + trustworthy. That was the other point. Could she trust you? Lord, Tom, if + you was a fightin’ archangel you could hardly live up to the character + that I’ve given you.” + </p> + <p> + A drawer looked in from the bar. “If you please, Mr. Cribb, the lady’s + carriage is back again.” + </p> + <p> + The Champion laid down his long clay pipe. “This way, lad,” said he, + plucking his young friend by the sleeve towards the side window. “Look + there, now! Saw you ever a more slap-up carriage? See, too, the pair of + bays—two hundred guineas apiece. Coachman, too, and footman—you’d + find ‘em hard to beat. There she is now, stepping out of it. Wait here, + lad, till I do the honours of my house.” + </p> + <p> + Tom Cribb slipped off, and young Spring remained by the window, tapping + the glass nervously with his fingers, for he was a simple-minded country + lad with no knowledge of women, and many fears of the traps which await + the unwary in a great city. Many stories were afloat of pugilists who had + been taken up and cast aside again by wealthy ladies, even as the + gladiators were in decadent Rome. It was with some suspicion therefore, + and considerable inward trepidation, that he faced round as a tall veiled + figure swept into the room. He was much consoled, however, to observe the + bulky form of Tom Cribb immediately behind her as a proof that the + interview was not to be a private one. When the door was closed, the lady + very deliberately removed her gloves. Then with fingers which glittered + with diamonds she slowly rolled up and adjusted her heavy veil. Finally, + she turned her face upon Spring. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the man?” said she. + </p> + <p> + They stood looking at each other with mutual interest, which warmed in + both their faces into mutual admiration. What she saw was as fine a figure + of a young man as England could show, none the less attractive for the + restrained shyness of his manner and the blush which flushed his cheeks. + What he saw was a woman of thirty, tall, dark, queen-like, and imperious, + with a lovely face, every line and feature of which told of pride and + breed, a woman born to Courts, with the instinct of command strong within + her, and yet with all the softer woman’s graces to temper and conceal the + firmness of her soul. Tom Spring felt as he looked at her that he had + never seen nor ever dreamed of any one so beautiful, and yet he could not + shake off the instinct which warned him to be upon his guard. Yes, it was + beautiful, this face—beautiful beyond belief. But was it good, was + it kind, was it true? There was some strange subconscious repulsion which + mingled with his admiration for her loveliness. As to the lady’s thoughts, + she had already put away all idea of the young pugilist as a man, and + regarded him now with critical eyes as a machine designed for a definite + purpose. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to meet you, Mr.—Mr. Spring,” said she, looking him over + with as much deliberation as a dealer who is purchasing a horse. “He is + hardly as tall as I was given to understand, Mr. Cribb. You said six feet, + I believe?” + </p> + <p> + “So he is, ma’am, but he carries it so easy. It’s only the beanstalk that + looks tall. See here, I’m six foot myself, and our heads are level, except + I’ve lost my fluff.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the chest measurement?” + </p> + <p> + “Forty-three inches, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “You certainly seem to be a very strong young man. And a game one, too, I + hope?” + </p> + <p> + Young Spring shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “It’s not for me to say, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “I can speak for that, ma’am,” said Cribb. “You read the <i>Sporting + Chronicle</i> for three weeks ago, ma’am. You’ll see how he stood up to + Ned Painter until his senses were beat out of him. I waited on him, ma’am, + and I know. I could show you my waistcoat now—that would let you + guess what punishment he can take.” + </p> + <p> + The lady waved aside the illustration. “But he was beat,” said she, + coldly. “The man who beat him must be the better man.” + </p> + <p> + “Saving your presence, ma’am, I think not, and outside Gentleman Jackson + my judgment would stand against any in the ring. My lad here has beat + Painter once, and will again, if your ladyship could see your way to find + the battle-money.” + </p> + <p> + The lady started and looked angrily at the Champion. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you call me that?” + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon. It was just my way of speaking.” + </p> + <p> + “I order you not to do it again.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “I am here incognito. I bind you both upon your honours to make no inquiry + as to who I am. If I do not get your firm promise, the matter ends here.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, ma’am. I’ll promise for my own part, and so, I am sure, will + Spring. But if I may be so bold, I can’t help my drawers and potmen + talking with your servants.” + </p> + <p> + “The coachman and footman know just as much about me as you do. But my + time is limited, so I must get to business. I think, Mr. Spring, that you + are in want of something to do at present?” + </p> + <p> + “That is so, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand from Mr. Cribb that you are prepared to fight any one at any + weight?” + </p> + <p> + “Anything on two legs,” cried the Champion. “Who did you wish me to + fight?” asked the young pugilist. + </p> + <p> + “That cannot concern you. If you are really ready to fight any one, then + the particular name can be of no importance. I have my reasons for + withholding it.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been only a few weeks out of training. How long would it take + you to get back to your best?” + </p> + <p> + “Three weeks or a month.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I will pay your training expenses and two pounds a week over. + Here are five pounds as a guarantee. You will fight when I consider that + you are ready, and that the circumstances are favourable. If you win your + fight, you shall have fifty pounds. Are you satisfied with the terms?” + </p> + <p> + “Very handsome, ma’am, I’m sure.” + </p> + <p> + “And remember, Mr. Spring, I choose you, not because you are the best man—for + there are two opinions about that—but because I am given to + understand that you are a decent man whom I can trust. The terms of this + match are to be secret.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand that. I’ll say nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “It is a private match. Nothing more. You will begin your training + tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “I will ask Mr. Cribb to train you.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll do that, ma’am, with pleasure. But, by your leave, does he have + anything if he loses?” + </p> + <p> + A spasm of emotion passed over the woman’s face and her hands clenched + white with passion. + </p> + <p> + “If he loses, not a penny, not a penny!” she cried. “He must not, shall + not lose!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, ma’am,” said Spring, “I’ve never heard of any such match. But it’s + true that I am down at heel, and beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll do just + what you say. I’ll train till you give the word, and then I’ll fight where + you tell me. I hope you’ll make it a large ring.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said she; “it will be a large ring.” + </p> + <p> + “And how far from London?” + </p> + <p> + “Within a hundred miles. Have you anything else to say? My time is up.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to ask, ma’am,” said the Champion, earnestly, “whether I can act + as the lad’s second when the time comes. I’ve waited on him the last two + fights. Can I give him a knee?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the woman, sharply. Without another word she turned and was + gone, shutting the door behind her. A few moments later the trim carriage + flashed past the window, turned down the crowded Haymarket, and was + engulfed in the traffic. + </p> + <p> + The two men looked at each other in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Well, blow my dicky, if this don’t beat cockfightin’!” cried Tom Cribb at + last. “Anyhow, there’s the fiver, lad. But it’s a rum go, and no mistake + about it.” + </p> + <p> + After due consultation, it was agreed that Tom Spring should go into + training at the Castle Inn on Hampstead Heath, so that Cribb could drive + over and watch him. Thither Spring went on the day after the interview + with his patroness, and he set to work at once with drugs, dumb-bells, and + breathers on the common to get himself into condition. It was hard, + however, to take the matter seriously, and his good-natured trainer found + the same difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the baccy I miss, Daddy,” said the young pugilist, as they sat + together on the afternoon of the third day. “Surely there can’t be any + harm in my havin’ a pipe?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, lad, it’s against my conscience, but here’s my box and + there’s a yard o’ clay,” said the Champion. “My word, I don’t know what + Captain Barclay of Ury would have said if he had seen a man smoke when he + was in trainin’! He was the man to work you! He had me down from sixteen + to thirteen the second time I fought the Black.” + </p> + <p> + Spring had lit his pipe and was leaning back amid a haze of blue smoke. + </p> + <p> + “It was easy for you, Daddy, to keep strict trainin’ when you knew what + was before you. You had your date and your place and your man. You knew + that in a month you would jump the ropes with ten thousand folk round you, + and carrying maybe a hundred thousand in bets. You knew also the man you + had to meet, and you wouldn’t give him the better of you. But it’s all + different with me. For all I know, this is just a woman’s whim, and will + end in nothing. If I was sure it was serious, I’d break this pipe before I + would smoke it.” + </p> + <p> + Tom Cribb scratched his head in puzzlement. + </p> + <p> + “I can make nothing of it, lad, ‘cept that her money is good. Come to + think of it, how many men on the list could stand up to you for half an + hour? It can’t be Stringer, ‘cause you’ve beat him. Then there’s Cooper; + but he’s up Newcastle way. It can’t be him. There’s Richmond; but you + wouldn’t need to take your coat off to beat him. There’s the Gasman; but + he’s not twelve stone. And there’s Bill Neat of Bristol. That’s it, lad. + The lady has taken into her head to put you up against either the Gasman + or Bill Neat.” + </p> + <p> + “But why not say so? I’d train hard for the Gasman and harder for Bill + Neat, but I’m blowed if I can train, with any heart when I’m fightin’ + nobody in particular and everybody in general, same as now.” + </p> + <p> + There was a sudden interruption to the speculations of the two + prize-fighters. The door opened and the lady entered. As her eyes fell + upon the two men her dark, handsome face flushed with anger, and she gazed + at them silently with an expression of contempt which brought them both to + their feet with hangdog faces. There they stood, their long, reeking pipes + in their hands, shuffling and downcast, like two great rough mastiffs + before an angry mistress. + </p> + <p> + “So!” said she, stamping her foot furiously. “And this is training!” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure we’re very sorry, ma’am,” said the abashed Champion. “I didn’t + think—I never for one moment supposed—” + </p> + <p> + “That I would come myself to see if you were taking my money on false + pretences? No, I dare say not. You fool!” she blazed, turning suddenly + upon Tom Spring. “You’ll be beat. That will be the end of it.” + </p> + <p> + The young man looked up with an angry face. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll trouble you not to call me names, ma’am. I’ve my self-respect, the + same as you. I’ll allow that I shouldn’t have smoked when I was in + trainin’. But I was saying to Tom Cribb here, just before you came in, + that if you would give over treatin’ us as if we were children, and if you + would tell us just who it is you want me to fight, and when, and where, it + would be a deal easier for me to take myself in hand.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s true, ma’am,” said the Champion. “I know it must be either the + Gasman or Bill Neat. There’s no one else. So give me the office, and I’ll + promise to have him as fit as a trout on the day.” + </p> + <p> + The lady laughed contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” said she, “that no one can fight save those who make a + living by it?” + </p> + <p> + “By George, it’s an amateur!” cried Cribb, in amazement. “But you don’t + surely ask Tom Spring to train for three weeks to meet a Corinthian?” + </p> + <p> + “I will say nothing more of who it is. It is no business of yours,” the + lady answered fiercely. “All I <i>do</i> say is, that if you do not train + I will cast you aside and take some one who will. Do not think you can + fool me because I am a woman. I have learned the points of the game as + well as any man.” + </p> + <p> + “I saw that the very first word you spoke,” said Cribb. + </p> + <p> + “Then don’t forget it. I will not warn you again. If I have occasion to + find fault I shall choose another man.” + </p> + <p> + “And you won’t tell me who I am to fight?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a word. But you can take it from me that at your very best it will + take you, or any man in England, all your time to master him. Now, get + back this instant to your work, and never let me find you shirking it + again.” With imperious eyes she looked the two strong men down, and then, + turning on her heel, she swept out of the room. + </p> + <p> + The Champion whistled as the door closed behind her, and mopped his brow + with his red bandanna handkerchief as he looked across at his abashed + companion. “My word, lad,” said he, “it’s earnest from this day on.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Tom Spring, solemnly, “it’s earnest from this day on.” + </p> + <p> + In the course of the next fortnight the lady made several surprise visits + to see that her champion was being properly prepared for the contest which + lay before him. At the most unexpected moments she would burst into the + training quarters, but never again had she to complain of any slackness + upon his part or that of his trainer. With long bouts of the gloves, with + thirty-mile walks, with mile runs at the back of a mailcart with a bit of + blood between the shafts, with interminable series of jumps with a + skipping-rope, he was sweated down until his trainer was able to proudly + proclaim that “the last ounce of tallow is off him and he is ready to + fight for his life.” Only once was the lady accompanied by any one upon + these visits of inspection. Upon this occasion a tall young man was her + companion. He was graceful in figure, aristocratic in his bearing, and + would have been strikingly handsome had it not been for some accident + which had shattered his nose and broken all the symmetry of his features. + He stood in silence with moody eyes and folded arms, looking at the + splendid torso of the prize-fighter as, stripped to the waist, he worked + with his dumbbells. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you think he will do?” said the lady. + </p> + <p> + The young swell shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t like it, <i>cara mia</i>. + I can’t pretend that I like it.” + </p> + <p> + “You must like it, George. I have set my very heart on it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not English, you know. Lucrezia Borgia and Mediaeval Italy. Woman’s + love and woman’s hatred are always the same, but this particular + manifestation of it seems to me out of place in nineteenth-century + London.” + </p> + <p> + “Is not a lesson needed?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes; but one would think there were other ways.” + </p> + <p> + “You tried another way. What did you get out of that?” + </p> + <p> + The young man smiled rather grimly, as he turned up his cuff and looked at + a puckered hole in his wrist. + </p> + <p> + “Not much, certainly,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve tried and failed.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I must admit it.” + </p> + <p> + “What else is there? The law?” + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious, no!” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is my turn, George, and I won’t be balked.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think any one is capable of balking you, <i>cara mia</i>. + Certainly I, for one, should never dream of trying. But I don’t feel as if + I could co-operate.” + </p> + <p> + “I never asked you to.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you certainly never did. You are perfectly capable of doing it alone. + I think, with your leave, if you have quite done with your prize-fighter, + we will drive back to London. I would not for the world miss Goldoni in + the Opera.” + </p> + <p> + So they drifted away; he, frivolous and dilettante, she with her face as + set as Fate, leaving the fighting men to their business. + </p> + <p> + And now the day came when Cribb was able to announce to his employer that + his man was as fit as science could make him. + </p> + <p> + “I can do no more, ma’am. He’s fit to fight for a kingdom. Another week + would see him stale.” + </p> + <p> + The lady looked Spring over with the eye of a connoisseur. + </p> + <p> + “I think he does you credit,” she said at last. “Today is Tuesday. He will + fight the day after tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, ma’am. Where shall he go?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you exactly, and you will please take careful note of all + that I say. You, Mr. Cribb, will take your man down to the Golden Cross + Inn at Charing Cross by nine o’clock on Wednesday morning. He will take + the Brighton coach as far as Tunbridge Wells, where he will alight at the + Royal Oak Arms. There he will take such refreshment as you advise before a + fight. He will wait at the Royal Oak Arms until he receives a message by + word, or by letter, brought him by a groom in a mulberry livery. This + message will give him his final instructions.” + </p> + <p> + “And I am not to come?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the lady. + </p> + <p> + “But surely, ma’am,” he pleaded, “I may come as far as Tunbridge Wells? + It’s hard on a man to train a cove for a fight and then to leave him.” + </p> + <p> + “It can’t be helped. You are too well known. Your arrival would spread all + over the town, and my plans might suffer. It is quite out of the question + that you should come.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ll do what you tell me, but it’s main hard.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said Spring, “you would have me bring my fightin’ shorts and + my spiked shoes?” + </p> + <p> + “No; you will kindly bring nothing whatever which may point to your trade. + I would have you wear just those clothes in which I saw you first, such + clothes as any mechanic or artisan might be expected to wear.” + </p> + <p> + Tom Cribb’s blank face had assumed an expression of absolute despair. + </p> + <p> + “No second, no clothes, no shoes—it don’t seem regular. I give you + my word, ma’am, I feel ashamed to be mixed up in such a fight. I don’t + know as you can call the thing a fight where there is no second. It’s just + a scramble—nothing more. I’ve gone too far to wash my hands of it + now, but I wish I had never touched it.” + </p> + <p> + In spite of all professional misgivings on the part of the Champion and + his pupil, the imperious will of the woman prevailed, and everything was + carried out exactly as she had directed. At nine o’clock Tom Spring found + himself upon the box-seat of the Brighton coach, and waved his hand in + goodbye to burly Tom Cribb, who stood, the admired of a ring of waiters + and ostlers, upon the doorstep of the Golden Cross. It was in the pleasant + season when summer is mellowing into autumn, and the first golden patches + are seen amid the beeches and the ferns. The young country-bred lad + breathed more freely when he had left the weary streets of Southwark and + Lewisham behind him, and he watched with delight the glorious prospect as + the coach, whirled along by six dapple greys, passed by the classic + grounds of Knowle, or after crossing Riverside Hill skirted the vast + expanse of the Weald of Kent. Past Tonbridge School went the coach, and on + through Southborough, until it wound down a steep, curving road with + strange outcrops of sandstone beside it, and halted before a great + hostelry, bearing the name which had been given him in his directions. He + descended, entered the coffee-room, and ordered the underdone steak which + his trainer had recommended. Hardly had he finished it when a servant with + a mulberry coat and a peculiarly expressionless face entered the + apartment. + </p> + <p> + “Beg your pardon, sir, are you Mr. Spring—Mr. Thomas Spring, of + London?” + </p> + <p> + “That is my name, young man.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the instructions which I had to give you are that you wait for one + hour after your meal. After that time you will find me in a phaeton at the + door, and I will drive you in the right direction.” + </p> + <p> + The young pugilist had never been daunted by any experience which had + befallen him in the ring. The rough encouragement of his backers, the + surge and shouting of the multitude, and the sight of his opponent had + always cheered his stout heart and excited him to prove himself worthy of + being the centre of such a scene. But his loneliness and uncertainty were + deadly. He flung himself down on the horse-hair couch and tried to doze, + but his mind was too restless and excited. Finally he rose, and paced up + and down the empty room. Suddenly he was aware of a great rubicund face + which surveyed him from round the angle of the door. Its owner, seeing + that he was observed, pushed forward into the room. + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon, sir,” said he, “but surely I have the honour of talking to + Mr. Thomas Spring?” + </p> + <p> + “At your service,” said the young man. + </p> + <p> + “Bless me! I am vastly honoured to have you under my roof! Cordery is my + name, sir, landlord of this old-fashioned inn. I thought that my eyes + could not deceive me. I am a patron of the ring, sir, in my own humble + way, and was present at Moulsey in September last, when you beat Jack + Stringer of Rawcliffe. A very fine fight, sir, and very handsomely fought, + if I may make bold to say so. I have a right to an opinion, sir, for + there’s never been a fight for many a year in Kent or Sussex that you + wouldn’t find Joe Cordery at the ring-side. Ask Mr. Gregson at the + Chop-house in Holborn and he’ll tell you about old Joe Cordery. By the + way, Mr. Spring, I suppose it is not business that has brought you down + into these parts? Any one can see with half an eye that you are trained to + a hair. I’d take it very kindly if you would give me the office.” + </p> + <p> + It crossed Spring’s mind that if he were frank with the landlord it was + more than likely that he would receive more information than he could + give. He was a man of his word, however, and he remembered his promise to + his employer. + </p> + <p> + “Just a quiet day in the country, Mr. Cordery. That’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! I had hoped there was a mill in the wind. I’ve a nose for these + things, Mr. Spring, and I thought I had a whiff of it. But, of course, you + should know best. Perhaps you will drive round with me this afternoon and + view the hop-gardens—just the right time of year, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Tom Spring was not very skilful in deception, and his stammering excuses + may not have been very convincing to the landlord, or finally persuaded + him that his original supposition was wrong. In the midst of the + conversation, however, the waiter entered with the news that a phaeton was + waiting at the door. The innkeeper’s eyes shone with suspicion and + eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you said you knew no one in these parts, Mr. Spring?” + </p> + <p> + “Just one kind friend, Mr. Cordery, and he has sent his gig for me. It’s + likely that I will take the night coach to town. But I’ll look in after an + hour or two and have a dish of tea with you.” + </p> + <p> + Outside the mulberry servant was sitting behind a fine black horse in a + phaeton, which had two seats in front and two behind. Tom Spring was about + to climb up beside him, when the servant whispered that his directions + were that he should sit behind. Then the phaeton whirled away, while the + excited landlord, more convinced than ever that there was something in the + wind, rushed into his stable-yard with shrieks to his ostlers, and in a + very few minutes was in hot pursuit, waiting at every cross-road until he + could hear tidings of a black horse and a mulberry livery. + </p> + <p> + The phaeton meanwhile drove in the direction of Crowborough. Some miles + out it turned from the high-road into a narrow lane spanned by a tawny + arch of beech trees. Through this golden tunnel a lady was walking, tall + and graceful, her back to the phaeton. As it came abreast of her she stood + aside and looked up, while the coachman pulled up the horse. + </p> + <p> + “I trust that you are at your best,” said she, looking very earnestly at + the prize-fighter. “How do you feel?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty tidy, ma’am, I thank you.” + </p> + <p> + “I will get up beside you, Johnson. We have some way to go. You will drive + through the Lower Warren, and then take the lane which skirts the Gravel + Hanger. I will tell you where to stop. Go slowly, for we are not due for + twenty minutes.” + </p> + <p> + Feeling as if the whole business was some extraordinary dream, the young + pugilist passed through a network of secluded lanes, until the phaeton + drew up at a wicket gate which led into a plantation of firs, choked with + a thick undergrowth. Here the lady descended and beckoned Spring to + alight. + </p> + <p> + “Wait down the lane,” said she to the coachman. “We shall be some little + time. Now, Mr. Spring, will you kindly follow me? I have written a letter + which makes an appointment.” + </p> + <p> + She passed swiftly through the plantation by a tortuous path, then over a + stile, and past another wood, loud with the deep chuckling of pheasants. + At the farther side was a fine rolling park, studded with oak trees, and + stretching away to a splendid Elizabethan mansion, with balustraded + terraces athwart its front. Across the park, and making for the wood, a + solitary figure was walking. + </p> + <p> + The lady gripped the prize-fighter by the wrist. “That is your man,” said + she. + </p> + <p> + They were standing under the shadow of the trees, so that he was very + visible to them, while they were out of his sight. Tom Spring looked hard + at the man, who was still some hundreds of yards away. He was a tall, + powerful fellow, clad in a blue coat with gilt buttons, which gleamed in + the sun. He had white corded breeches and riding-boots. He walked with a + vigorous step, and with every few strides he struck his leg with a + dog-whip which hung from his wrist. There was a great suggestion of + purpose and of energy in the man’s appearance and bearing. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he’s a gentleman!” said Spring. “Look ‘ere, ma’am, this is all a bit + out of my line. I’ve nothing against the man, and he can mean me no harm. + What am I to do with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Fight him! Smash him! That is what you are here for.” + </p> + <p> + Tom Spring turned on his heel with disgust. “I’m here to fight, ma’am, but + not to smash a man who has no thought of fighting. It’s off.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t like the look of him,” hissed the woman. “You have met your + master.” + </p> + <p> + “That is as may be. It is no job for me.” + </p> + <p> + The woman’s face was white with vexation and anger. + </p> + <p> + “You fool!” she cried. “Is all to go wrong at the last minute? There are + fifty pounds here they are in this paper—would you refuse them?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a cowardly business. I won’t do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Cowardly? You are giving the man two stone, and he can beat any amateur + in England.” + </p> + <p> + The young pugilist felt relieved. After all, if he could fairly earn that + fifty pounds, a good deal depended upon his winning it. If he could only + be sure that this was a worthy and willing antagonist! + </p> + <p> + “How do you know he is so good?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I ought to know. I am his wife.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke she turned, and was gone like a flash among the bushes. The + man was quite close now, and Tom Spring’s scruples weakened as he looked + at him. He was a powerful, broad-chested fellow, about thirty, with a + heavy, brutal face, great thatched eyebrows, and a hard-set mouth. He + could not be less than fifteen stone in weight, and he carried himself + like a trained athlete. As he swung along he suddenly caught a glimpse of + Spring among the trees, and he at once quickened his pace and sprang over + the stile which separated them. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” said he, halting a few yards from him, and staring him up and + down. “Who the devil are you, and where the devil did you come from, and + what the devil are you doing on my property?” + </p> + <p> + His manner was even more offensive than his words. It brought a flush of + anger to Spring’s cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “See here, mister,” said he, “civil words is cheap. You’ve no call to + speak to me like that.” + </p> + <p> + “You infernal rascal!” cried the other. “I’ll show you the way out of that + plantation with the toe of my boot. Do you dare to stand there on my land + and talk back at me?” He advanced with a menacing face and his dog-whip + half raised. “Well, are you going?” he cried, as he swung it into the air. + </p> + <p> + Tom Spring jumped back to avoid the threatened blow. + </p> + <p> + “Go slow, mister,” said he. “It’s only fair that you should know where you + are. I’m Spring, the prize-fighter. Maybe you have heard my name.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you were a rascal of that breed,” said the man. “I’ve had the + handling of one or two of you gentry before, and I never found one that + could stand up to me for five minutes. Maybe you would like to try?” + </p> + <p> + “If you hit me with that dog-whip, mister——” + </p> + <p> + “There, then!” He gave the young man a vicious cut across the shoulder. + “Will that help you to fight?” + </p> + <p> + “I came here to fight,” said Tom Spring, licking his dry lips. “You can + drop that whip, mister, for I <i>will</i> fight. I’m a trained man and + ready. But you would have it. Don’t blame me.” + </p> + <p> + The man was stripping the blue coat from his broad shoulders. There was a + sprigged satin vest beneath it, and they were hung together on an alder + branch. + </p> + <p> + “Trained are you?” he muttered. “By the Lord, I’ll train you before I am + through!” + </p> + <p> + Any fears that Tom Spring may have had lest he should be taking some + unfair advantage were set at rest by the man’s assured manner and by the + splendid physique, which became more apparent as he discarded a black + satin tie, with a great ruby glowing in its centre, and threw aside the + white collar which cramped his thick muscular neck. He then, very + deliberately, undid a pair of gold sleeve-links, and, rolling up his + shirt-sleeves, disclosed two hairy and muscular arms, which would have + served as a model for a sculptor. + </p> + <p> + “Come nearer the stile,” said he, when he had finished. “There is more + room.” + </p> + <p> + The prize-fighter had kept pace with the preparations of his formidable + antagonist. His own hat, coat, and vest hung suspended upon a bush. He + advanced now into the open space which the other had indicated. + </p> + <p> + “Ruffianing or fighting?” asked the amateur, coolly. + </p> + <p> + “Fighting.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said the other. “Put up your hands, Spring. Try it out.” + </p> + <p> + They were standing facing one another in a grassy ring intersected by the + path at the outlet of the wood. The insolent and overbearing look had + passed away from the amateur’s face, but a grim half-smile was on his lips + and his eyes shone fiercely from under his tufted brows. From the way in + which he stood it was very clear that he was a past-master at the game. + Tom Spring, as he paced lightly to right and left, looking for an opening, + became suddenly aware that neither with Stringer nor with the redoubtable + Painter himself had he ever faced a more business-like opponent. The + amateur’s left was well forward, his guard low, his body leaning back from + the haunches, and his head well out of danger. Spring tried a light lead + at the mark, and another at the face, but in an instant his adversary was + on to him with a shower of sledge-hammer blows which it took him all his + time to avoid. He sprang back, but there was no getting away from that + whirlwind of muscle and bone. A heavy blow beat down his guard, a second + landed on his shoulder, and over went the prize-fighter with the other on + the top of him. Both sprang to their feet, glared at each other, and fell + into position once more. + </p> + <p> + There could be no doubt that the amateur was not only heavier, but also + the harder and stronger man. Twice again he rushed Spring down, once by + the weight of his blows, and once by closing and hurling him on to his + back. Such falls might have shaken the fight out of a less game man, but + to Tom Spring they were but incidents in his daily trade. Though bruised + and winded he was always up again in an instant. Blood was trickling from + his mouth, but his steadfast blue eyes told of the unshaken spirit within. + </p> + <p> + He was accustomed now to his opponent’s rushing tactics, and he was ready + for them. The fourth round was the same as to attack, but it was very + different in defence. Up to now the young man had given way and been + fought down. This time he stood his ground. As his opponent rushed in he + met him with a tremendous straight hit from his left hand, delivered with + the full force of his body, and doubled in effect by the momentum of the + charge. So stunning was the concussion that the pugilist himself recoiled + from it across the grassy ring. The amateur staggered back and leaned his + shoulder on a tree-trunk, his hand up to his face. + </p> + <p> + “You’d best drop it,” said Spring. “You’ll get pepper if you don’t.” + </p> + <p> + The other gave an inarticulate curse, and spat out a mouthful of blood. + </p> + <p> + “Come on!” said he. + </p> + <p> + Even now the pugilist found that he had no light task before him. Warned + by his misadventure, the heavier man no longer tried to win the battle at + a rush, nor to beat down an accomplished boxer as he would a country + hawbuck at a village fair. He fought with his head and his feet as well as + with his hands. Spring had to admit in his heart that, trained to the + ring, this man must have been a match for the best. His guard was strong, + his counter was like lightning, he took punishment like a man of iron, and + when he could safely close he always brought his lighter antagonist to the + ground with a shattering fall. But the one stunning blow which he had + courted before he was taught respect for his adversary weighed heavily on + him all the time. His senses had lost something of their quickness and his + blows of their sting. He was fighting, too, against a man who, of all the + boxers who have made their names great, was the safest, the coolest, the + least likely to give anything away, or lose an advantage gained. Slowly, + gradually, round by round, he was worn down by his cool, quick-stepping, + sharp-hitting antagonist. At last he stood exhausted, breathing hoarsely, + his face, what could be seen of it, purple with his exertions. He had + reached the limit of human endurance. His opponent stood waiting for him, + bruised and beaten, but as cool, as ready, as dangerous as ever. + </p> + <p> + “You’d best drop it, I tell you,” said he. “You’re done.” + </p> + <p> + But the other’s manhood would not have it so. With a snarl of fury he cast + his science to the winds, and rushed madly to slogging with both hands. + For a moment Spring was overborne. Then he side-stepped swiftly; there was + the crash of his blow, and the amateur tossed up his arms and fell all + asprawl, his great limbs outstretched, his disfigured face to the sky. + </p> + <p> + For a moment Tom Spring stood looking down at his unconscious opponent. + The next he felt a soft, warm hand upon his bare arm. The woman was at his + elbow. + </p> + <p> + “Now is your time!” she cried, her dark eyes aflame. “Go in! Smash him!” + </p> + <p> + Spring shook her off with a cry of disgust, but she was back in an + instant. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll make it seventy-five pounds—” + </p> + <p> + “The fight’s over, ma’am. I can’t touch him.” + </p> + <p> + “A hundred pounds—a clear hundred! I have it here in my bodice. + Would you refuse a hundred?” + </p> + <p> + He turned on his heel. She darted past him and tried to kick at the face + of the prostrate man. Spring dragged her roughly away, before she could do + him a mischief. + </p> + <p> + “Stand clear!” he cried, giving her a shake. “You should take shame to hit + a fallen man.” + </p> + <p> + With a groan the injured man turned on his side. Then he slowly sat up and + passed his wet hand over his face. Finally, he staggered to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders, “it was a fair fight. I’ve + no complaint to make. I was Jackson’s favourite pupil, but I give you + best.” Suddenly his eyes lit upon the furious face of the woman. “Hulloa, + Betty!” he cried. “So I have you to thank. I might have guessed it when I + had your letter.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my lord,” said she, with a mock curtsey. “You have me to thank. Your + little wife managed it all. I lay behind those bushes, and I saw you + beaten like a hound. You haven’t had all that I had planned for you, but I + think it will be some little time before any woman loves you for the sake + of your appearance. Do you remember the words, my lord? Do you remember + the words?” + </p> + <p> + He stood stunned for a moment. Then he snatched his whip from the ground, + and looked at her from under his heavy brows. + </p> + <p> + “I believe you’re the devil!” he cried. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what the governess will think?” said she. + </p> + <p> + He flared into furious rage and rushed at her with his whip. Tom Spring + threw himself before him with his arms out. + </p> + <p> + “It won’t do, sir; I can’t stand by.” + </p> + <p> + The man glared at his wife over the prize-fighter’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “So it’s for dear George’s sake!” he said, with a bitter laugh. “But poor, + broken-nosed George seems to have gone to the wall. Taken up with a + prize-fighter, eh? Found a fancy man for yourself!” + </p> + <p> + “You liar!” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, my lady, that stings your pride, does it? Well, you shall stand + together in the dock for trespass and assault. What a picture—great + Lord, what a picture!” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t, John!” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldn’t I, by—! you stay there three minutes and see if I + wouldn’t.” He seized his clothes from the bush, and staggered off as + swiftly as he could across the field, blowing a whistle as he ran. + </p> + <p> + “Quick! quick!” cried the woman. “There’s not an instant to lose.” Her + face was livid, and she was shivering and panting with apprehension. + “He’ll raise the country. It would be awful—awful!” + </p> + <p> + She ran swiftly down the tortuous path, Spring following after her and + dressing as he went. In a field to the right a gamekeeper, his gun in his + hand, was hurrying towards the whistling. Two labourers, loading hay, had + stopped their work and were looking about them, their pitchforks in their + hands. + </p> + <p> + But the path was empty, and the phaeton awaited them, the horse cropping + the grass by the lane-side, the driver half asleep on his perch. The woman + sprang swiftly in and motioned Spring to stand by the wheel. + </p> + <p> + “There is your fifty pounds,” she said, handing him a paper. “You were a + fool not to turn it into a hundred when you had the chance. I’ve done with + you now.” + </p> + <p> + “But where am I to go?” asked the prize-fighter, gazing around him at the + winding lanes. + </p> + <p> + “To the devil!” said she. “Drive on, Johnson!” + </p> + <p> + The phaeton whirled down the road and vanished round a curve. Tom Spring + was alone. + </p> + <p> + Everywhere over the countryside he heard shoutings and whistlings. It was + clear that so long as she escaped the indignity of sharing his fate his + employer was perfectly indifferent as to whether he got into trouble or + not. Tom Spring began to feel indifferent himself. He was weary to death, + his head was aching from the blows and falls which he had received, and + his feelings were raw from the treatment which he had undergone. He walked + slowly some few yards down the lane, but had no idea which way to turn to + reach Tunbridge Wells. In the distance he heard the baying of dogs, and he + guessed that they were being set upon his track. In that case he could not + hope to escape them, and might just as well await them where he was. He + picked out a heavy stake from the hedge, and he sat down moodily waiting, + in a very dangerous temper, for what might befall him. + </p> + <p> + But it was a friend and not a foe who came first into sight. Round the + corner of the lane flew a small dog-cart, with a fast-trotting chestnut + cob between the shafts. In it was seated the rubicund landlord of the + Royal Oak, his whip going, his face continually flying round to glance + behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Jump in, Mr. Spring jump in!” he cried, as he reined up. “They’re all + coming, dogs and men! Come on! Now, hud up, Ginger!” Not another word did + he say until two miles of lanes had been left behind them at racing speed + and they were back in safety upon the Brighton road. Then he let the reins + hang loose on the pony’s back, and he slapped Tom Spring with his fat hand + upon the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Splendid!” he cried, his great red face shining with ecstasy. “Oh, Lord! + but it was beautiful!” + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Spring. “You saw the fight?” + </p> + <p> + “Every round of it! By George! to think that I should have lived to have + had such a fight all to myself! Oh, but it was grand,” he cried, in a + frenzy of delight, “to see his lordship go down like a pithed ox and her + ladyship clapping her hands behind the bush! I guessed there was something + in the wind, and I followed you all the way. When you stopped, I tethered + little Ginger in a grove, and I crept after you through the wood. It’s as + well I did, for the whole parish was up!” + </p> + <p> + But Tom Spring was sitting gazing at him in blank amazement. + </p> + <p> + “His lordship!” he gasped. + </p> + <p> + “No less, my boy. Lord Falconbridge, Chairman of the Bench, Deputy + Lieutenant of the County, Peer of the Realm—that’s your man.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord!” + </p> + <p> + “And you didn’t know? It’s as well, for maybe you wouldn’t have whacked it + in as hard if you had; and, mind you, if you hadn’t, he’d have beat you. + There’s not a man in this county could stand up to him. He takes the + poachers and gipsies two and three at a time. He’s the terror of the + place. But you did him—did him fair. Oh, man, it was fine!” + </p> + <p> + Tom Spring was too much dazed by what he heard to do more than sit and + wonder. It was not until he had got back to the comforts of the inn, and + after a bath had partaken of a solid meal, that he sent for Mr. Cordery + the landlord. To him he confided the whole train of events which had led + up to his remarkable experience, and he begged him to throw such light as + he could upon it. Cordery listened with keen interest and many chuckles to + the story. Finally he left the room and returned with a frayed newspaper + in his hand, which he smoothed out upon his knee. + </p> + <p> + “It’s the <i>Pantiles Gazette</i>, Mr. Spring, as gossiping a rag as ever + was printed. I expect there will be a fine column in it if ever it gets + its prying nose into this day’s doings. However, we are mum and her + ladyship is mum, and, my word! his lordship is mum, though he did, in his + passion, raise the hue and cry on you. Here it is, Mr. Spring, and I’ll + read it to you while you smoke your pipe. It’s dated July of last year, + and it goes like this— + </p> + <p> + “‘FRACAS IN HIGH LIFE.—It is an open secret that the differences + which have for some years been known to exist between Lord F—— + and his beautiful wife have come to a head during the last few days. His + lordship’s devotion to sport, and also, as it is whispered, some + attentions which he has shown to a humbler member of his household, have, + it is said, long alienated Lady F——‘s affection. Of late she + has sought consolation and friendship with a gentleman whom we will + designate as Sir George W——n. Sir George, who is a famous + ladykiller, and as well-proportioned a man as any in England, took kindly + to the task of consoling the disconsolate fair. The upshot, however, was + vastly unfortunate, both for the lady’s feelings and for the gentleman’s + beauty. The two friends were surprised in a rendezvous near the house by + Lord F—— himself at the head of a party of his servants. Lord + F—— then and there, in spite of the shrieks of the lady, + availed himself of his strength and skill to administer such punishment to + the unfortunate Lothario as would, in his own parting words, prevent any + woman from loving him again for the sake of his appearance. Lady F—— + has left his lordship and betaken herself to London, where, no doubt, she + is now engaged in nursing the damaged Apollo. It is confidently expected + that a duel will result from the affair, but no particulars have reached + us up to the hour of going to press.’” + </p> + <p> + The landlord laid down the paper. “You’ve been moving in high life, Mr. + Thomas Spring,” said he. + </p> + <p> + The pugilist passed his hand over his battered face. “Well, Mr. Cordery,” + said he, “low life is good enough for me.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + OUT OF THE RUNNING + </h2> + <p> + It was on the North Side of Butser on the long swell of the Hampshire + Downs. Beneath, some two miles away, the grey roofs and red houses of + Petersfield peeped out from amid the trees which surrounded it. From the + crest of the low hills downwards the country ran in low, sweeping curves, + as though some green primeval sea had congealed in the midst of a ground + swell and set for ever into long verdant rollers. At the bottom, just + where the slope borders upon the plain, there stood a comfortable square + brick farmhouse, with a grey plume of smoke floating up from the chimney. + Two cowhouses, a cluster of hayricks, and a broad stretch of fields, + yellow with the ripening wheat, formed a fitting setting to the dwelling + of a prosperous farmer. + </p> + <p> + The green slopes were dotted every here and there with dark clumps of + gorse bushes, all alight with the flaming yellow blossoms. To the left lay + the broad Portsmouth Road curving over the hill, with a line of gaunt + telegraph posts marking its course. Beyond a huge white chasm opened in + the grass, where the great Butser chalk quarry had been sunk. From its + depths rose the distant murmur of voices, and the clinking of hammers. + Just above it, between two curves of green hill, might be seen a little + triangle of leaden-coloured sea, flecked with a single white sail. + </p> + <p> + Down the Portsmouth Road two women were walking, one elderly, florid and + stout, with a yellow-brown Paisley shawl and a coarse serge dress, the + other young and fair, with large grey eyes, and a face which was freckled + like a plover’s egg. Her neat white blouse with its trim black belt, and + plain, close-cut skirt, gave her an air of refinement which was wanting in + her companion, but there was sufficient resemblance between them to show + that they were mother and daughter. The one was gnarled and hardened and + wrinkled by rough country work, the other fresh and pliant from the benign + influence of the Board School; but their step, their slope of the + shoulders, and the movement of their hips as they walked, all marked them + as of one blood. + </p> + <p> + “Mother, I can see father in the five-acre field,” cried the younger, + pointing down in the direction of the farm. + </p> + <p> + The older woman screwed up her eyes, and shaded them with her hand. + </p> + <p> + “Who’s that with him?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “There’s Bill.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he’s nobody. He’s a-talkin’ to some one.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, mother. It’s some one in a straw hat. Adam Wilson of the + Quarry wears a straw hat.” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, of course, it’s Adam sure enough. Well, I’m glad we’re back home + time enough to see him. He’d have been disappointed if he had come over + and you’d been away. Drat this dust! It makes one not fit to be seen.” + </p> + <p> + The same idea seemed to have occurred to her daughter, for she had taken + out her handkerchief, and was flicking her sleeves and the front of her + dress. + </p> + <p> + “That’s right, Dolly. There’s some on your flounces. But, Lor’ bless you, + Dolly, it don’t matter to him. It’s not your dress he looks at, but your + face. Now I shouldn’t be very surprised if he hadn’t come over to ask you + from father.” + </p> + <p> + “I think he’d best begin by asking me from myself,” remarked the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but you’ll have him, Dolly, when he does.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not so sure of that, mother.” The older woman threw up her hands. + “There! I don’t know what the gals are coming to. I don’t indeed. It’s the + Board Schools as does it. When I was a gal, if a decent young man came + a-courtin’, we gave him a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No.’ We didn’t keep him hanging on + like a half-clipped sheep. Now, here are you with two of them at your + beck, and you can’t give an answer to either of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, mother, that’s it,” cried the daughter, with something between a + laugh and a sob. “May be if they came one at a time I’d know what to say.” + </p> + <p> + “What have you agin Adam Wilson?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. But I have nothing against Elias Mason.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I, either. But I know which is the most proper-looking young man.” + </p> + <p> + “Looks isn’t everything, mother. You should hear Elias Mason talk. You + should hear him repeat poetry.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, have Elias.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but I haven’t the heart to turn against Adam.” + </p> + <p> + “There, now! I never saw such a gal. You’re like a calf betwixt two + hayricks; you have a nibble at the one and a nibble at the other. There’s + not one in a hundred as lucky as you. Here’s Adam with three pound ten a + week, foreman already at the Chalk Works, and likely enough to be manager + if he’s spared. And there’s Elias, head telegraph clerk at the Post + Office, and earning good money too. You can’t keep ‘em both on. You’ve got + to take one or t’other, and it’s my belief you’ll get neither if you don’t + stop this shilly-shally.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t care. I don’t want them. What do they want to come bothering + for?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s human natur’, gal. They must do it. If they didn’t, you’d be the + first to cry out maybe. It’s in the Scriptures. ‘Man is born for woman, as + the sparks fly upwards.’” She looked up out of the corner of her eyes as + if not very sure of her quotation. “Why, here be that dratted Bill. The + good book says as we are all made of clay, but Bill does show it more than + any lad I ever saw.” + </p> + <p> + They had turned from the road into a narrow, deeply rutted lane, which led + towards the farm. A youth was running towards them, loose-jointed and + long-limbed, with a boyish, lumbering haste, clumping fearlessly with his + great yellow clogs through pool and mire. He wore brown corduroys, a dingy + shirt, and a red handkerchief tied loosely round his neck. A tattered old + straw hat was tilted back upon his shock of coarse, matted, brown hair. + His sleeves were turned up to the elbows, and his arms and face were both + tanned and roughened until his skin looked like the bark of some young + sapling. As he looked up at the sound of the steps, his face with its blue + eyes, brown skin, and first slight down of a tawny moustache, was not an + uncomely one, were it not marred by the heavy, stolid, somewhat sulky + expression of the country yokel. + </p> + <p> + “Please, mum,” said he, touching the brim of his wreck of a hat, “measter + seed ye coming. He sent to say as ‘ow ‘e were in the five-acre lot.” + </p> + <p> + “Run back, Bill, and say that we are coming,” answered the farmer’s wife, + and the awkward figure sped away upon its return journey. + </p> + <p> + “I say, mother, what is Bill’s other name?” asked the girl, with languid + curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “He’s not got one.” + </p> + <p> + “No name?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Dolly, he’s a found child, and never had no father or mother that + ever was heard of. We had him from the work’us when he was seven, to chop + mangel wurzel, and here he’s been ever since, nigh twelve year. He was + Bill there, and he’s Bill here.” + </p> + <p> + “What fun! Fancy having only one name. I wonder what they’ll call his + wife?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. Time to talk of that when he can keep one. But now, Dolly + dear, here’s your father and Adam Wilson comin’ across the field. I want + to see you settled, Dolly. He’s a steady young man. He’s blue ribbon, and + has money in the Post Office.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I knew which liked me best,” said her daughter glancing from under + her hat-brim at the approaching figures. “That’s the one I should like. + But it’s all right, mother, and I know how to find out, so don’t you fret + yourself any more.” + </p> + <p> + The suitor was a well-grown young fellow in a grey suit, with a straw hat + jauntily ribboned in red and black. He was smoking, but as he approached + he thrust his pipe into his breast-pocket, and came forward with one hand + outstretched, and the other gripping nervously at his watch-chain. + </p> + <p> + “Your servant, Mrs. Foster. And how are you, Miss Dolly? Another fortnight + of this and you will be starting on your harvest, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s bad to say beforehand what you will do in this country,” said Farmer + Foster, with an apprehensive glance round the heavens. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all God’s doing,” remarked his wife piously. + </p> + <p> + “And He does the best for us, of course. Yet He does seem these last + seasons to have kind of lost His grip over the weather. Well, maybe it + will be made up to us this year. And what did you do at Horndean, mother?” + </p> + <p> + The old couple walked in front, and the other dropped behind, the young + man lingering, and taking short steps to increase the distance. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Dolly,” he murmured at last, flushing slightly as he glanced at + her, “I’ve been speaking to your father about—you know what.” + </p> + <p> + But Dolly didn’t know what. She hadn’t the slightest idea of what. She + turned her pretty little freckled face up to him and was full of curiosity + upon the point. + </p> + <p> + Adam Wilson’s face flushed to a deeper red. “You know very well,” said he, + impatiently, “I spoke to him about marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then it’s him you want.” + </p> + <p> + “There, that’s the way you always go on. It’s easy to make fun, but I tell + you that I am in earnest, Dolly. Your father says that he would have no + objection to me in the family. You know that I love you true.” + </p> + <p> + “How do I know that then?” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you so. What more can I do?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever do anything to prove it?” + </p> + <p> + “Set me something and see if I don’t do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you haven’t done anything yet?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. I’ve done what I could.” + </p> + <p> + “How about this?” She pulled a little crumpled sprig of dog-rose, such as + grows wild in the wayside hedges, out of her bosom. “Do you know anything + of that?” + </p> + <p> + He smiled, and was about to answer, when his brows suddenly contracted, + his mouth set, and his eyes flashed angrily as they focussed some distant + object. Following his gaze, she saw a slim, dark figure, some three fields + off, walking swiftly in their direction. “It’s my friend, Mr. Elias + Mason,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Your friend!” He had lost his diffidence in his anger. “I know all about + that. What does he want here every second evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he wonders what you want.” + </p> + <p> + “Does he? I wish he’d come and ask me. I’d let him see what I wanted. + Quick too.” + </p> + <p> + “He can see it now. He has taken off his hat to me,” Dolly said, laughing. + </p> + <p> + Her laughter was the finishing touch. He had meant to be impressive, and + it seemed that he had only been ridiculous. He swung round upon his heel. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Miss Foster,” said he, in a choking voice, “that’s all right. + We know where we are now. I didn’t come here to be made a fool of, so good + day to you.” He plucked at his hat, and walked furiously off in the + direction from which they had come. She looked after him, half frightened, + in the hope of seeing some sign that he had relented, but he strode + onwards with a rigid neck, and vanished at a turn of the lane. + </p> + <p> + When she turned again her other visitor was close upon her—a thin, + wiry, sharp-featured man with a sallow face, and a quick, nervous manner. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Miss Foster. I thought that I would walk over as the + weather was so beautiful, but I did not expect to have the good fortune to + meet you in the fields.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure that father will be very glad to see you, Mr. Mason. You must + come in and have a glass of milk.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you, Miss Foster, I should very much prefer to stay out here + with you. But I am afraid that I have interrupted you in a chat. Was not + that Mr. Adam Wilson who left you this moment?” His manner was subdued, + but his questioning eyes and compressed lips told of a deeper and more + furious jealousy than that of his rival. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It was Mr. Adam Wilson.” There was something about Mason, a certain + concentration of manner, which made it impossible for the girl to treat + him lightly as she had done the other. + </p> + <p> + “I have noticed him here several times lately.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. He is head foreman, you know, at the big quarry.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed. He is fond of your society, Miss Foster. I can’t blame him + for that, can I, since I am equally so myself. But I should like to come + to some understanding with you. You cannot have misunderstood what my + feelings are to you? I am in a position to offer you a comfortable home. + Will you be my wife, Miss Foster?” + </p> + <p> + Dolly would have liked to make some jesting reply, but it was hard to be + funny with those two eager, fiery eyes fixed so intently upon her own. She + began to walk slowly towards the house, while he paced along beside her, + still waiting for his answer. + </p> + <p> + “You must give me a little time, Mr. Mason,” she said at last. “‘Marry in + haste,’ they say, ‘and repent at leisure.’” + </p> + <p> + “But you shall never have cause to repent.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. One hears such things.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall be the happiest woman in England.” + </p> + <p> + “That sounds very nice. You are a poet, Mr. Mason, are you not?” + </p> + <p> + “I am a lover of poetry.” + </p> + <p> + “And poets are fond of flowers?” + </p> + <p> + “I am very fond of flowers.” + </p> + <p> + “Then perhaps you know something of these?” She took out the humble little + sprig, and held it out to him with an arch questioning glance. He took it + and pressed it to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “I know that it has been near you, where I should wish to be,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Mr. Mason!” It was Mrs. Foster who had come out to meet + them. “Where’s Mr.——? Oh—ah! Yes, of course. The + teapot’s on the table, and you’d best come in afore it’s over-drawn.” + </p> + <p> + When Elias Mason left the farmhouse that evening, he drew Dolly aside at + the door. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t be able to come before Saturday,” said he. + </p> + <p> + “We shall be glad to see you, Mr. Mason.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall want my answer then.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I cannot give any promise, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “But I shall live in hope.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no one can prevent you from doing that.” As she came to realize her + power over him she had lost something of her fear, and could answer him + now nearly as freely as if he were simple Adam Wilson. + </p> + <p> + She stood at the door, leaning against the wooden porch, with the long + trailers of the honeysuckle framing her tall, slight figure. The great red + sun was low in the west, its upper rim peeping over the low hills, + shooting long, dark shadows from the beech-tree in the field, from the + little group of tawny cows, and from the man who walked away from her. She + smiled to see how immense the legs were, and how tiny the body in the + great flat giant which kept pace beside him. In front of her in the little + garden the bees droned, a belated butterfly or an early moth fluttered + slowly over the flower-beds, a thousand little creatures buzzed and + hummed, all busy working out their tiny destinies, as she, too, was + working out hers, and each doubtless looking upon their own as the central + point of the universe. A few months for the gnat, a few years for the + girl, but each was happy now in the heavy summer air. A beetle scuttled + out upon the gravel path and bored onwards, its six legs all working hard, + butting up against stones, upsetting itself on ridges, but still gathering + itself up and rushing onwards to some all-important appointment somewhere + in the grass plot. A bat fluttered up from behind the beech-tree. A breath + of night air sighed softly over the hillside with a little tinge of the + chill sea spray in its coolness. Dolly Foster shivered, and had turned to + go in when her mother came out from the passage. + </p> + <p> + “Whatever is that Bill doing there?” she cried. + </p> + <p> + Dolly looked, and saw for the first time that the nameless farm-labourer + was crouching under the beech, his browns and yellows blending with the + bark behind him. + </p> + <p> + “You go out o’ that, Bill!” screamed the farmer’s wife. + </p> + <p> + “What be I to do?” he asked humbly, slouching forward. + </p> + <p> + “Go, cut chaff in the barn.” He nodded and strolled away, a comical figure + in his mud-crusted boots, his strap-tied corduroys and his almond-coloured + skin. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, you’ve taken Elias,” said the mother, passing her hand round + her daughter’s waist. “I seed him a-kissing your flower. Well, I’m sorry + for Adam, for he is a well-grown young man, a proper young man, blue + ribbon, with money in the Post Office. Still some one must suffer, else + how could we be purified. If the milk’s left alone it won’t ever turn into + butter. It wants troubling and stirring and churning. That’s what we want, + too, before we can turn angels. It’s just the same as butter.” + </p> + <p> + Dolly laughed. “I have not taken Elias yet,” said she. + </p> + <p> + “No? What about Adam then?” + </p> + <p> + “Nor him either.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Dolly girl, can you not take advice from them that is older. I tell + you again that you’ll lose them both.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, mother. Don’t you fret yourself. It’s all right. But you can see + how hard it is. I like Elias, for he can speak so well, and is so sure and + masterful. And I like Adam because—well, because I know very well + that Adam loves me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, bless my heart, you can’t marry them both. You’d like all the pears + in the basket.” + </p> + <p> + “No, mother, but I know how to choose. You see this bit of a flower, + dear.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a common dog-rose.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, where d’you think I found it?” + </p> + <p> + “In the hedge likely.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but on my window-ledge.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but when?” + </p> + <p> + “This morning. It was six when I got up, and there it lay fresh and sweet, + and new-plucked. ‘Twas the same yesterday and the day before. Every + morning there it lies. It’s a common flower, as you say, mother, but it is + not so common to find a man who’ll break short his sleep day after day + just to show a girl that the thought of her is in his heart.” + </p> + <p> + “And which was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, if I knew! I think it’s Elias. He’s a poet, you know, and poets do + nice things like that.” + </p> + <p> + “And how will you be sure?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll know before morning. He will come again, whichever it is. And + whichever it is he’s the man for me. Did father ever do that for you + before you married?” + </p> + <p> + “I can’t say he did, dear. But father was always a powerful heavy + sleeper.” + </p> + <p> + “Well then, mother, you needn’t fret any more about me, for as sure as I + stand here, I’ll tell you to-morrow which of them it is to be.” + </p> + <p> + That evening the farmer’s daughter set herself to clearing off all those + odd jobs which accumulate in a large household. She polished the dark, + old-fashioned furniture in the sitting-room. She cleared out the cellar, + re-arranged the bins, counted up the cider, made a great cauldron full of + raspberry jam, potted, papered, and labelled it. Long after the whole + household was in bed she pushed on with her self-imposed tasks until the + night was far gone and she very spent and weary. Then she stirred up the + smouldering kitchen fire and made herself a cup of tea, and, carrying it + up to her own room, she sat sipping it and glancing over an old bound + volume of the <i>Leisure Hour</i>. Her seat was behind the little dimity + window curtains, whence she could see without being seen. + </p> + <p> + The morning had broken, and a brisk wind had sprung up with the dawn. The + sky was of the lightest, palest blue, with a scud of flying white clouds + shredded out over the face of it, dividing, coalescing, overtaking one + another, but sweeping ever from the pink of the east to the still shadowy + west. The high, eager voice of the wind whistled and sang outside, rising + from moan to shriek, and then sinking again to a dull mutter and grumble. + Dolly rose to wrap her shawl around her, and as she sat down again in an + instant her doubts were resolved, and she had seen that for which she had + waited. + </p> + <p> + Her window faced the inner yard, and was some eight feet from the ground. + A man standing beneath it could not be seen from above. But she saw enough + to tell her all that she wished to know. Silently, suddenly, a hand had + appeared from below, had laid a sprig of flower upon her ledge, and had + disappeared. It did not take two seconds; she saw no face, she heard no + sound, but she had seen the hand and she wanted nothing more. With a smile + she threw herself upon the bed, drew a rug over her, and dropped into a + heavy slumber. + </p> + <p> + She was awakened by her mother plucking at her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “It’s breakfast time, Dolly, but I thought you would be weary, so I + brought you lip some bread and coffee. Sit up, like a dearie, and take + it.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, mother. Thank you. I’m all dressed, so I’ll be ready to come + down soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless the gal, she’s never had her things off! And, dearie me, here’s the + flower outside the window, sure enough! Well, and did you see who put it + there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was it then?” + </p> + <p> + “It was Adam.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it now? Well, I shouldn’t have thought that he had it in him. Then + Adam it’s to be. Well, he’s steady, and that’s better than being clever, + yea, seven-and-seventy fold. Did he come across the yard?” + </p> + <p> + “No, along by the wall.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you see him then?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t see him.” + </p> + <p> + “Then how can you tell?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw his hand.” + </p> + <p> + “But d’you tell me you know Adam’s hand?” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a blind man that couldn’t tell it from Elias’ hand. Why, the + one is as brown as that coffee, and the other as white as the cup, with + great blue veins all over it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now I shouldn’t have thought of it, but so it is. Well, it’ll be a + busy day, Dolly. Just hark to the wind!” + </p> + <p> + It had, indeed, increased during the few hours since dawn to a very + violent tempest. The panes of the window rattled and shook. Glancing out, + Dolly saw cabbage leaves and straw whirling up past the casement. + </p> + <p> + “The great hayrick is giving. They’re all out trying to prop it up. My, + but it do blow!” + </p> + <p> + It did indeed! When Dolly came downstairs it was all that she could do to + push her way through the porch. All along the horizon the sky was + brassy-yellow, but above the wind screamed and stormed, and the torn, + hurrying clouds were now huddled together, and now frayed off into + countless tattered streamers. In the field near the house her father and + three or four labourers were working with poles and ropes, hatless, their + hair and beards flying, staving up a great bulging hayrick. Dolly watched + them for a moment, and then, stooping her head and rounding her shoulders, + with one hand up to her little black straw hat, she staggered off across + the fields. + </p> + <p> + Adam Wilson was at work always on a particular part of the hillside, and + hither it was that she bent her steps. He saw the trim, dapper figure, + with its flying skirts and hat-ribbons, and he came forward to meet her + with a great white crowbar in his hand. He walked slowly, however, and his + eyes were downcast, with the air of a man who still treasures a grievance. + </p> + <p> + “Good mornin’, Miss Foster.” + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Mr. Wilson. Oh, if you are going to be cross with me, I’d + best go home again.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m not cross, Miss Foster. I take it very kindly that you should come + out this way on such a day.” + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to say to you—I wanted to say that I was sorry if I made + you angry yesterday. I didn’t mean to make fun. I didn’t, indeed. It is + only my way of talking. It was so good of you, so noble of you, to let it + make no difference.” + </p> + <p> + “None at all, Dolly.” He was quite radiant again. “If I didn’t love you + so, I wouldn’t mind what that other chap said or did. And if I could only + think that you cared more for me than for him—” + </p> + <p> + “I do, Adam.” + </p> + <p> + “God bless you for saying so! You’ve lightened my heart, Dolly. I have to + go to Portsmouth for the firm today. To-morrow night I’ll come and see + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Adam, I—Oh, my God, what’s that!” + </p> + <p> + A rending breaking noise in the distance, a dull rumble, and a burst of + shouts and cries. + </p> + <p> + “The rick’s down! There’s been an accident!” They both started running + down the hill. + </p> + <p> + “Father!” panted the girl, “father!” + </p> + <p> + “He’s all right!” shouted her companion, “I can see him. But there’s some + one down. They’re lifting him now. And here’s one running like mad for the + doctor.” + </p> + <p> + A farm-labourer came rushing wildly up the lane. “Don’t you go, Missey,” + he cried. “A man’s hurt.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “It’s Bill. The rick came down and the ridge-pole caught him across the + back. He’s dead, I think. Leastwise, there’s not much life in him. I’m off + for Doctor Strong!” He bent his shoulder to the wind, and lumbered off + down the road. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Bill! Thank God it wasn’t father!” They were at the edge of the + field now in which the accident had taken place. The rick lay, a shapeless + mound upon the earth, with a long thick pole protruding from it, which had + formerly supported the tarpaulin drawn across it in case of rain. Four men + were walking slowly away, one shoulder humped, one hanging, and betwixt + them they bore a formless clay-coloured bundle. He might have been a clod + of the earth that he tilled, so passive, so silent, still brown, for death + itself could not have taken the burn from his skin, but with patient, + bovine eyes looking out heavily from under half-closed lids. He breathed + jerkily, but he neither cried out nor groaned. There was something almost + brutal and inhuman in his absolute stolidity. He asked no sympathy, for + his life had been without it. It was a broken tool rather than an injured + man. + </p> + <p> + “Can I do anything, father?” + </p> + <p> + “No, lass, no. This is no place for you. I’ve sent for the doctor. He’ll + be here soon.” + </p> + <p> + “But where are they taking him?” + </p> + <p> + “To the loft where he sleeps.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure he’s welcome to my room, father.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, lass. Better leave it alone.” + </p> + <p> + But the little group were passing as they spoke, and the injured lad had + heard the girl’s words. + </p> + <p> + “Thank ye kindly, Missey,” he murmured, with a little flicker of life, and + then sank back again into his stolidity and his silence. + </p> + <p> + Well, a farm hand is a useful thing, but what is a man to do with one who + has an injured spine and half his ribs smashed. Farmer Foster shook his + head and scratched his chin as he listened to the doctor’s report. + </p> + <p> + “He can’t get better?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we had better move him.” + </p> + <p> + “Where to?” + </p> + <p> + “To the work’us hospital. He came from there just this time eleven years. + It’ll be like going home to him.” + </p> + <p> + “I fear that he is going home,” said the doctor gravely. “But it’s out of + the question to move him now. He must lie where he is for better or for + worse.” + </p> + <p> + And it certainly looked for worse rather than for better. In a little loft + above the stable he was stretched upon a tiny blue pallet which lay upon + the planks. Above were the gaunt rafters, hung with saddles, harness, old + scythe blades—the hundred things which droop, like bats, from inside + such buildings. Beneath them upon two pegs hung his own pitiable wardrobe, + the blue shirt and the grey, the stained trousers, and the muddy coat. A + gaunt chaff-cutting machine stood at his head, and a great bin of the + chaff behind it. He lay very quiet, still dumb, still uncomplaining, his + eyes fixed upon the small square window looking out at the drifting sky, + and at this strange world which God has made so queerly—so very + queerly. + </p> + <p> + An old woman, the wife of a labourer, had been set to nurse him, for the + doctor had said that he was not to be left. She moved about the room, + arranging and ordering, grumbling to herself from time to time at this + lonely task which had been assigned to her. There were some flowers in + broken jars upon a cross-beam, and these, with a touch of tenderness, she + carried over and arranged upon a deal packing-case beside the patient’s + head. He lay motionless, and as he breathed there came a gritty rubbing + sound from somewhere in his side, but he followed his companion about with + his eyes and even smiled once as she grouped the flowers round him. + </p> + <p> + He smiled again when he heard that Mrs. Foster and her daughter had been + to ask after him that evening. They had been down to the Post Office + together, where Dolly had sent off a letter which she had very carefully + drawn up, addressed to Elias Mason, Esq., and explaining to that gentleman + that she had formed her plans for life, and that he need spare himself the + pain of coming for his answer on the Saturday. As they came back they + stopped in the stable and inquired through the loft door as to the + sufferer. From where they stood they could hear that horrible grating + sound in his breathing. Dolly hurried away with her face quite pale under + her freckles. She was too young to face the horrid details of suffering, + and yet she was a year older than this poor waif, who lay in silence, + facing death itself. + </p> + <p> + All night he lay very quiet—so quiet that were it not for that one + sinister sound his nurse might have doubted whether life was still in him. + She had watched him and tended him as well as she might, but she was + herself feeble and old, and just as the morning light began to steal + palely through the small loft window, she sank back in her chair in a + dreamless sleep. Two hours passed, and the first voices of the men as they + gathered for their work aroused her. She sprang to her feet. Great heaven! + the pallet was empty. She rushed down into the stables, distracted, + wringing her hands. There was no sign of him. But the stable door was + open. He must have walked-but how could he walk?—he must have + crawled—have writhed that way. Out she rushed, and as they heard her + tale, the newly risen labourers ran with her, until the farmer with his + wife and daughter were called from their breakfast by the bustle, and + joined also in this strange chase. A whoop, a cry, and they were drawn + round to the corner of the yard on which Miss Dolly’s window opened. There + he lay within a few yards of the window, his face upon the stones, his + feet thrusting out from his tattered night-gown, and his track marked by + the blood from his wounded knees. One hand was thrown out before him, and + in it he held a little sprig of the pink dog-rose. + </p> + <p> + They carried him back, cold and stiff, to the pallet in the loft, and the + old nurse drew the sheet over him and left him, for there was no need to + watch him now. The girl had gone to her room, and her mother followed her + thither, all unnerved by this glimpse of death. + </p> + <p> + “And to think,” said she, “that it was only <i>him</i>, after all.” + </p> + <p> + But Dolly sat at the side of her bed, and sobbed bitterly in her apron. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + “DE PROFUNDIS” + </h2> + <p> + So long as the oceans are the ligaments which bind together the great + broad-cast British Empire, so long will there be a dash of romance in our + minds. For the soul is swayed by the waters, as the waters are by the + moon, and when the great highways of an empire are along such roads as + these, so full of strange sights and sounds, with danger ever running like + a hedge on either side of the course, it is a dull mind indeed which does + not bear away with it some trace of such a passage. And now, Britain lies + far beyond herself, for the three-mile limit of every seaboard is her + frontier, which has been won by hammer and loom and pick rather than by + arts of war. For it is written in history that neither king nor army can + bar the path to the man who having twopence in his strong box, and knowing + well where he can turn it to threepence, sets his mind to that one end. + And as the frontier has broadened, the mind of Britain has broadened too, + spreading out until all men can see that the ways of the island are + continental, even as those of the Continent are insular. + </p> + <p> + But for this a price must be paid, and the price is a grievous one. As the + beast of old must have one young human life as a tribute every year, so to + our Empire we throw from day to day the pick and flower of our youth. The + engine is world-wide and strong, but the only fuel that will drive it is + the lives of British men. Thus it is that in the grey old cathedrals, as + we look round upon the brasses on the walls, we see strange names, such + names as they who reared those walls had never heard, for it is in + Peshawar, and Umballah, and Korti and Fort Pearson that the youngsters + die, leaving only a precedent and a brass behind them. But if every man + had his obelisk, even where he lay, then no frontier line need be drawn, + for a cordon of British graves would ever show how high the Anglo-Celtic + tide had lapped. + </p> + <p> + This, then, as well as the waters which join us to the world, has done + something to tinge us with romance. For when so many have their loved ones + over the seas, walking amid hillmen’s bullets, or swamp malaria, where + death is sudden and distance great, then mind communes with mind, and + strange stories arise of dream, presentiment or vision, where the mother + sees her dying son, and is past the first bitterness of her grief ere the + message comes which should have broken the news. The learned have of late + looked into the matter and have even labelled it with a name; but what can + we know more of it save that a poor stricken soul, when hard-pressed and + driven, can shoot across the earth some ten-thousand-mile-distant picture + of its trouble to the mind which is most akin to it. Far be it from me to + say that there lies no such power within us, for of all things which the + brain will grasp the last will be itself; but yet it is well to be very + cautious over such matters, for once at least I have known that which was + within the laws of nature seem to be far upon the further side of them. + </p> + <p> + John Vansittart was the younger partner of the firm of Hudson and + Vansittart, coffee exporters of the Island of Ceylon, three-quarters + Dutchman by descent, but wholly English in his sympathies. For years I had + been his agent in London, and when in ‘72 he came over to England for a + three months’ holiday, he turned to me for the introductions which would + enable him to see something of town and country life. Armed with seven + letters he left my offices, and for many weeks scrappy notes from + different parts of the country let me know that he had found favour in the + eyes of my friends. Then came word of his engagement to Emily Lawson, of a + cadet branch of the Hereford Lawsons, and at the very tail of the first + flying rumour the news of his absolute marriage, for the wooing of a + wanderer must be short, and the days were already crowding on towards the + date when he must be upon his homeward journey. They were to return + together to Colombo in one of the firm’s own thousand-ton barque-rigged + sailing ships, and this was to be their princely honeymoon, at once a + necessity and a delight. + </p> + <p> + Those were the royal days of coffee-planting in Ceylon, before a single + season and a rotten fungus drove a whole community through years of + despair to one of the greatest commercial victories which pluck and + ingenuity ever won. Not often is it that men have the heart when their one + great industry is withered to rear up in a few years another as rich to + take its place, and the tea-fields of Ceylon are as true a monument to + courage as is the lion at Waterloo. But in ‘72 there was no cloud yet + above the skyline, and the hopes of the planters were as high and as + bright as the hillsides on which they reared their crops. Vansittart came + down to London with his young and beautiful wife. I was introduced, dined + with them, and it was finally arranged that I, since business called me + also to Ceylon, should be a fellow-passenger with them on the <i>Eastern + Star</i>, which was timed to sail on the following Monday. + </p> + <p> + It was on the Sunday evening that I saw him again. He was shown up into my + rooms about nine o’clock at night, with the air of a man who is bothered + and out of sorts. His hand, as I shook it, was hot and dry. + </p> + <p> + “I wish, Atkinson,” said he, “that you could give me a little lime juice + and water. I have a beastly thirst upon me, and the more I take the more I + seem to want.” + </p> + <p> + I rang and ordered a carafe and glasses. “You are flushed,” said I. “You + don’t look the thing.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I’m clean off colour. Got a touch of rheumatism in my back, and don’t + seem to taste my food. It is this vile London that is choking me. I’m not + used to breathing air which has been used up by four million lungs all + sucking away on every side of you.” He flapped his crooked hands before + his face, like a man who really struggles for his breath. + </p> + <p> + “A touch of the sea will soon set you right.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I’m of one mind with you there. That’s the thing for me. I want no + other doctor. If I don’t get to sea to-morrow I’ll have an illness. There + are no two ways about it.” He drank off a tumbler of lime juice, and + clapped his two hands with his knuckles doubled up into the small of his + back. + </p> + <p> + “That seems to ease me,” said he, looking at me with a filmy eye. “Now I + want your help, Atkinson, for I am rather awkwardly placed.” + </p> + <p> + “As how?” + </p> + <p> + “This way. My wife’s mother got ill and wired for her. I couldn’t go—you + know best yourself how tied I have been—so she had to go alone. Now + I’ve had another wire to say that she can’t come to-morrow, but that she + will pick up the ship at Falmouth on Wednesday. We put in there, you know, + and in, though I count it hard, Atkinson, that a man should be asked to + believe in a mystery, and cursed if he can’t do it. Cursed, mind you, no + less.” He leaned forward and began to draw a catchy breath like a man who + is poised on the very edge of a sob. + </p> + <p> + Then first it came to my mind that I had heard much of the hard-drinking + life of the island, and that from brandy came those wild words and fevered + hands. The flushed cheek and the glazing eye were those of one whose drink + is strong upon him. Sad it was to see so noble a young man in the grip of + that most bestial of all the devils. + </p> + <p> + “You should lie down,” I said, with some severity. + </p> + <p> + He screwed up his eyes like a man who is striving to wake himself, and + looked up with an air of surprise. + </p> + <p> + “So I shall presently,” said he, quite rationally. “I felt quite swimmy + just now, but I am my own man again now. Let me see, what was I talking + about? Oh ah, of course, about the wife. She joins the ship at Falmouth. + Now I want to go round by water. I believe my health depends upon it. I + just want a little clean first-lung air to set me on my feet again. I ask + you, like a good fellow, to go to Falmouth by rail, so that in case we + should be late you may be there to look after the wife. Put up at the + Royal Hotel, and I will wire her that you are there. Her sister will bring + her down, so that it will be all plain sailing.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll do it with pleasure,” said I. “In fact, I would rather go by rail, + for we shall have enough and to spare of the sea before we reach Colombo. + I believe too that you badly need a change. Now, I should go and turn in, + if I were you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will. I sleep aboard tonight. You know,” he continued, as the film + settled down again over his eyes, “I’ve not slept well the last few + nights. I’ve been troubled with theolololog—that is to say, + theolological—hang it,” with a desperate effort, “with the doubts of + theolologicians. Wondering why the Almighty made us, you know, and why He + made our heads swimmy, and fixed little pains into the small of our backs. + Maybe I’ll do better tonight.” He rose and steadied himself with an effort + against the corner of the chair back. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Vansittart,” said I, gravely, stepping up to him, and laying + my hand upon his sleeve, “I can give you a shakedown here. You are not fit + to go out. You are all over the place. You’ve been mixing your drinks.” + </p> + <p> + “Drinks!” He stared at me stupidly. + </p> + <p> + “You used to carry your liquor better than this.” + </p> + <p> + “I give you my word, Atkinson, that I have not had a drain for two days. + It’s not drink. I don’t know what it is. I suppose you think this is + drink.” He took up my hand in his burning grasp, and passed it over his + own forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Great Lord!” said I. + </p> + <p> + His skin felt like a thin sheet of velvet beneath which lies a + close-packed layer of small shot. It was smooth to the touch at any one + place, but to a finger passed along it, rough as a nutmeg grater. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right,” said he, smiling at my startled face. “I’ve had the + prickly heat nearly as bad.” + </p> + <p> + “But this is never prickly heat.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it’s London. It’s breathing bad air. But tomorrow it’ll be all right. + There’s a surgeon aboard, so I shall be in safe hands. I must be off now.” + </p> + <p> + “Not you,” said I, pushing him back into a chair. “This is past a joke. + You don’t move from here until a doctor sees you. Just stay where you + are.” + </p> + <p> + I caught up my hat, and rushing round to the house of a neighbouring + physician, I brought him back with me. The room was empty and Vansittart + gone. I rang the bell. The servant said that the gentleman had ordered a + cab the instant that I had left, and had gone off in it. He had told the + cabman to drive to the docks. + </p> + <p> + “Did the gentleman seem ill?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Ill!” The man smiled. “No, sir, he was singin’ his ‘ardest all the time.” + </p> + <p> + The information was not as reassuring as my servant seemed to think, but I + reflected that he was going straight back to the <i>Eastern Star</i>, and + that there was a doctor aboard of her, so that there was nothing which I + could do in the matter. None the less, when I thought of his thirst, his + burning hands, his heavy eye, his tripping speech, and lastly, of that + leprous forehead, I carried with me to bed an unpleasant memory of my + visitor and his visit. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o’clock next day I was at the docks, but the <i>Eastern Star</i> + had already moved down the river, and was nearly at Gravesend. To + Gravesend I went by train, but only to see her topmasts far off, with a + plume of smoke from a tug in front of her. I would hear no more of my + friend until I rejoined him at Falmouth. When I got back to my offices, a + telegram was awaiting me from Mrs. Vansittart, asking me to meet her; and + next evening found us both at the Royal Hotel, Falmouth, where we were to + wait for the <i>Eastern Star</i>. Ten days passed, and there came no news + of her. + </p> + <p> + They were ten days which I am not likely to forget. On the very day that + the <i>Eastern Star</i> had cleared from the Thames, a furious easterly + gale had sprung up, and blew on from day to day for the greater part of a + week without the sign of a lull. Such a screaming, raving, long-drawn + storm has never been known on the southern coast. From our hotel windows + the sea view was all banked in haze, with a little rain-swept half-circle + under our very eyes, churned and lashed into one tossing stretch of foam. + So heavy was the wind upon the waves that little sea could rise, for the + crest of each billow was torn shrieking from it, and lashed broadcast over + the bay. Clouds, wind, sea, all were rushing to the west, and there, + looking down at this mad jumble of elements, I waited on day after day, my + sole companion a white, silent woman, with terror in her eyes, her + forehead pressed ever against the window, her gaze from early morning to + the fall of night fixed upon that wall of grey haze through which the loom + of a vessel might come. She said nothing, but that face of hers was one + long wail of fear. + </p> + <p> + On the fifth day I took counsel with an old seaman. I should have + preferred to have done so alone, but she saw me speak with him, and was at + our side in an instant, with parted lips and a prayer in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Seven days out from London,” said he, “and five in the gale. Well, the + Channel’s swept clear by this wind. There’s three things for it. She may + have popped into port on the French side. That’s like enough.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; he knew we were here. He would have telegraphed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, so he would. Well, then, he might have run for it, and if he did + that he won’t be very far from Madeira by now. That’ll be it, marm, you + may depend.” + </p> + <p> + “Or else? You said there was a third chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I, marm? No, only two, I think. I don’t think I said anything of a + third. Your ship’s out there, depend upon it, away out in the Atlantic, + and you’ll hear of it time enough, for the weather is breaking. Now don’t + you fret, marm, and wait quiet, and you’ll find a real blue Cornish sky + tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + The old seaman was right in his surmise, for the next day broke calm and + bright, with only a low dwindling cloud in the west to mark the last + trailing wreaths of the storm-wrack. But still there came no word from the + sea, and no sign of the ship. Three more weary days had passed, the + weariest that I have ever spent, when there came a seafaring man to the + hotel with a letter. I gave a shout of joy. It was from the captain of the + <i>Eastern Star</i>. As I read the first lines of it I whisked my hand + over it, but she laid her own upon it and drew it away. “I have seen it,” + said she, in a cold, quiet voice. “I may as well see the rest, too.” + </p> + <p> + “DEAR SIR,” said the letter, + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Vansittart is down with the small-pox, and we are blown so far on our + course that we don’t know what to do, he being off his head and unfit to + tell us. By dead reckoning we are but three hundred miles from Funchal, so + I take it that it is best that we should push on there, get Mr. V. into + hospital, and wait in the Bay until you come. There’s a sailing-ship due + from Falmouth to Funchal in a few days’ time, as I understand. This goes + by the brig <i>Marian</i> of Falmouth, and five pounds is due to the + master, Yours respectfully, + </p> + <p> + “JNO. HINES.” + </p> + <p> + She was a wonderful woman that, only a chit of a girl fresh from school, + but as quiet and strong as a man. She said nothing—only pressed her + lips together tight, and put on her bonnet. + </p> + <p> + “You are going out?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I be of use?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I am going to the doctor’s.” + </p> + <p> + “To the doctor’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. To learn how to nurse a small-pox case.” + </p> + <p> + She was busy at that all the evening, and next morning we were off with a + fine ten-knot breeze in the barque <i>Rose of Sharon</i> for Madeira. For + five days we made good time, and were no great way from the island; but on + the sixth there fell a calm, and we lay without motion on a sea of oil, + heaving slowly, but making not a foot of way. + </p> + <p> + At ten o’clock that night Emily Vansittart and I stood leaning on the + starboard railing of the poop, with a full moon shining at our backs, and + casting a black shadow of the barque, and of our own two heads upon the + shining water. From the shadow a broadening path of moonshine stretched + away to the lonely sky-line, flickering and shimmering in the gentle heave + of the swell. We were talking with bent heads, chatting of the calm, of + the chances of wind, of the look of the sky, when there came a sudden + plop, like a rising salmon, and there, in the clear light, John Vansittart + sprang out of the water and looked up at us. + </p> + <p> + I never saw anything clearer in my life than I saw that man. The moon + shone full upon him, and he was but three oars’ lengths away. His face was + more puffed than when I had seen him last, mottled here and there with + dark scabs, his mouth and eyes open as one who is struck with some + overpowering surprise. He had some white stuff streaming from his + shoulders, and one hand was raised to his ear, the other crooked across + his breast. I saw him leap from the water into the air, and in the dead + calm the waves of his coming lapped up against the sides of the vessel. + Then his figure sank back into the water again, and I heard a rending, + crackling sound like a bundle of brushwood snapping in the fire on a + frosty night. There were no signs of him when I looked again, but a swift + swirl and eddy on the still sea still marked the spot where he had been. + How long I stood there, tingling to my finger-tips, holding up an + unconscious woman with one hand, clutching at the rail of the vessel with + the other, was more than I could afterwards tell. I had been noted as a + man of-slow and unresponsive emotions, but this time at least I was shaken + to the core. Once and twice I struck my foot upon the deck to be certain + that I was indeed the master of my own senses, and that this was not some + mad prank of an unruly brain. As I stood, still marvelling, the woman + shivered, opened her eyes, gasped, and then standing erect with her hands + upon the rail, looked out over the moonlit sea with a face which had aged + ten years in a summer night. + </p> + <p> + “You saw his vision?” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + “I saw something.” + </p> + <p> + “It was he! It was John! He is dead!” + </p> + <p> + I muttered some lame words of doubt. + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless he died at this hour,” she whispered. “In hospital at Madeira. + I have read of such things. His thoughts were with me. His vision came to + me. Oh, my John, my dear, dear, lost John!” + </p> + <p> + She broke out suddenly into a storm of weeping, and I led her down into + her cabin, where I left her with her sorrow. That night a brisk breeze + blew up from the east, and in the evening of the next day we passed the + two islets of Los Desertos, and dropped anchor at sundown in the Bay of + Funchal. The <i>Eastern Star</i> lay no great distance from us, with the + quarantine flag flying from her main, and her Jack half-way up her peak. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” said Mrs. Vansittart, quickly. She was dry-eyed now, for she + had known how it would be. + </p> + <p> + That night we received permission from the authorities to move on board + the <i>Eastern Star</i>. The captain, Hines, was waiting upon deck with + confusion and grief contending upon his bluff face as he sought for words + with which to break this heavy tidings, but she took the story from his + lips. + </p> + <p> + “I know that my husband is dead,” she said. “He died yesterday night, + about ten o’clock, in hospital at Madeira, did he not?” + </p> + <p> + The seaman stared aghast. “No, marm, he died eight days ago at sea, and we + had to bury him out there, for we lay in a belt of calm, and could not say + when we might make the land.” + </p> + <p> + Well, those are the main facts about the death of John Vansittart, and his + appearance to his wife somewhere about lat. 35 N. and long. 15 W. A + clearer case of a wraith has seldom been made out, and since then it has + been told as such, and put into print as such, and endorsed by a learned + society as such, and so floated off with many others to support the recent + theory of telepathy. For myself, I hold telepathy to be proved, but I + would snatch this one case from amid the evidence, and say that I do not + think that it was the wraith of John Vansittart, but John Vansittart + himself whom we saw that night leaping into the moonlight out of the + depths of the Atlantic. It has ever been my belief that some strange + chance—one of those chances which seem so improbable and yet so + constantly occur—had becalmed us over the very spot where the man + had been buried a week before. For the rest, the surgeon tells me that the + leaden weight was not too firmly fixed, and that seven days bring about + changes which fetch a body to the surface. Coming from the depth to which + the weight would have sunk it, he explains that it might well attain such + a velocity as to carry it clear of the water. Such is my own explanation + of the matter, and if you ask me what then became of the body, I must + recall to you that snapping, crackling sound, with the swirl in the water. + The shark is a surface feeder and is plentiful in those parts. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR + </h2> + <p> + It was a cold, foggy, dreary evening in May. Along the Strand blurred + patches of light marked the position of the lamps. The flaring shop + windows flickered vaguely with steamy brightness through the thick and + heavy atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + The high lines of houses which lead down to the Embankment were all dark + and deserted, or illuminated only by the glimmering lamp of the caretaker. + At one point, however, there shone out from three windows upon the second + floor a rich flood of light, which broke the sombre monotony of the + terrace. Passers-by glanced up curiously, and drew each other’s attention + to the ruddy glare, for it marked the chambers of Francis Pericord, the + inventor and electrical engineer. Long into the watches of the night the + gleam of his lamps bore witness to the untiring energy and restless + industry which was rapidly carrying him to the first rank in his + profession. + </p> + <p> + Within the chamber sat two men. The one was Pericord himself—hawk-faced + and angular, with the black hair and brisk bearing which spoke of his + Celtic origin. The other—thick, sturdy, and blue-eyed—was + Jeremy Brown, the well-known mechanician. They had been partners in many + an invention, in which the creative genius of the one had been aided by + the practical abilities of the other. It was a question among their + friends as to which was the better man. + </p> + <p> + It was no chance visit which had brought Brown into Pericord’s workshop at + so late an hour. Business was to be done—business which was to + decide the failure or success of months of work, and which might affect + their whole careers. Between them lay a long brown table, stained and + corroded by strong acids, and littered with giant carboys, Faure’s + accumulators, voltaic piles, coils of wire, and great blocks of + non-conducting porcelain. In the midst of all this lumber there stood a + singular whizzing, whirring machine, upon which the eyes of both partners + were riveted. + </p> + <p> + A small square metal receptacle was connected by numerous wires to a broad + steel girdle, furnished on either side with two powerful projecting + joints. The girdle was motionless, but the joints with the short arms + attached to them flashed round every few seconds, with a pause between + each rhythmic turn. The power which moved them came evidently from the + metal box. A subtle odour of ozone was in the air. + </p> + <p> + “How about the flanges, Brown?” asked the inventor. + </p> + <p> + “They were too large to bring. They are seven foot by three. There is + power enough there to work them, however. I will answer for that.” + </p> + <p> + “Aluminium with an alloy of copper?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “See how beautifully it works.” Pericord stretched out a thin, nervous + hand, and pressed a button upon the machine. The joints revolved more + slowly, and came presently to a dead stop. Again he touched a spring and + the arms shivered and woke up again into their crisp metallic life. “The + experimenter need not exert his muscular powers,” he remarked. “He has + only to be passive, and use his intelligence.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks to my motor,” said Brown. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Our</i> motor,” the other broke in sharply. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, of course,” said his colleague impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “The motor which you thought of, and which I reduced to practice—call + it what you like.” + </p> + <p> + “I call it the Brown-Pericord Motor,” cried the inventor with an angry + flash of his dark eyes. “You worked out the details, but the abstract + thought is mine, and mine alone.” + </p> + <p> + “An abstract thought won’t turn an engine,” said Brown, doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “That was why I took you into partnership,” the other retorted, drumming + nervously with his fingers upon the table. “I invent, you build. It is a + fair division of labour.” + </p> + <p> + Brown pursed up his lips, as though by no means satisfied upon the point. + Seeing, however, that further argument was useless, he turned his + attention to the machine, which was shivering and rocking with each swing + of its arms, as though a very little more would send it skimming from the + table. + </p> + <p> + “Is it not splendid?” cried Pericord. + </p> + <p> + “It is satisfactory,” said the more phlegmatic Anglo-Saxon. + </p> + <p> + “There’s immortality in it!” + </p> + <p> + “There’s money in it!” + </p> + <p> + “Our names will go down with Montgolfier’s.” + </p> + <p> + “With Rothschild’s, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Brown; you take too material a view,” cried the inventor, raising + his gleaming eyes from the machine to his companion. “Our fortunes are a + mere detail. Money is a thing which every heavy-witted plutocrat in the + country shares with us. My hopes rise to something higher than that. Our + true reward will come in the gratitude and goodwill of the human race.” + </p> + <p> + Brown shrugged his shoulders. “You may have my share of that,” he said. “I + am a practical man. We must test our invention.” + </p> + <p> + “Where can we do it?” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I wanted to speak about. It must be absolutely secret. If we + had private grounds of our own it would be an easy matter, but there is no + privacy in London.” + </p> + <p> + “We must take it into the country.” + </p> + <p> + “I have a suggestion to offer,” said Brown. “My brother has a place in + Sussex on the high land near Beachy Head. There is, I remember, a large + and lofty barn near the house. Will is in Scotland, but the key is always + at my disposal. Why not take the machine down tomorrow and test it in the + barn?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing could be better.” + </p> + <p> + “There is a train to Eastbourne at one.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall be at the station.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring the gear with you, and I will bring the flanges,” said the + mechanician, rising. “Tomorrow will prove whether we have been following a + shadow, or whether fortune is at our feet. One o’clock at Victoria.” He + walked swiftly down the stair and was quickly reabsorbed into the flood of + comfortless clammy humanity which ebbed and flowed along the Strand. + </p> + <p> + The morning was bright and spring-like. A pale blue sky arched over + London, with a few gauzy white clouds drifting lazily across it. At eleven + o’clock Brown might have been seen entering the Patent Office with a great + roll of parchment, diagrams, and plans under his arm. At twelve he emerged + again smiling, and, opening his pocket-book, he packed away very carefully + a small slip of official blue paper. At five minutes to one his cab rolled + into Victoria Station. Two giant canvas-covered parcels, like enormous + kites, were handed down by the cabman from the top, and consigned to the + care of a guard. On the platform Pericord was pacing up and down, with + long eager step and swinging arms, a tinge of pink upon his sunken and + sallow cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “All right?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Brown pointed in answer to his baggage. + </p> + <p> + “I have the motor and the girdle already packed away in the guard’s van. + Be careful, guard, for it is delicate machinery of great value. So! Now we + can start with an easy conscience.” + </p> + <p> + At Eastbourne the precious motor was carried to a four-wheeler, and the + great flanges hoisted on the top. A long drive took them to the house + where the keys were kept, whence they set off across the barren Downs. The + building which was their destination was a commonplace white-washed + structure, with straggling stables and out-houses, standing in a grassy + hollow which sloped down from the edge of the chalk cliffs. It was a + cheerless house even when in use, but now with its smokeless chimneys and + shuttered windows it looked doubly dreary. The owner had planted a grove + of young larches and firs around it, but the sweeping spray had blighted + them, and they hung their withered heads in melancholy groups. It was a + gloomy and forbidding spot. + </p> + <p> + But the inventors were in no mood to be moved by such trifles. The + lonelier the place, the more fitted for their purpose. With the help of + the cabman they carried their packages down the footpath, and laid them in + the darkened dining-room. The sun was setting as the distant murmur of + wheels told them that they were finally alone. + </p> + <p> + Pericord had thrown open the shutters and the mellow evening light + streamed in through the discoloured windows. Brown drew a knife from his + pocket and cut the pack-thread with which the canvas was secured. As the + brown covering fell away it disclosed two great yellow metal fans. These + he leaned carefully against the wall. The girdle, the connecting-bands, + and the motor were then in turn unpacked. It was dark before all was set + out in order. A lamp was lit, and by its light the two men continued to + tighten screws, clinch rivets, and make the last preparations for their + experiment. + </p> + <p> + “That finishes it,” said Brown at last, stepping back and surveying the + machine. + </p> + <p> + Pericord said nothing, but his face glowed with pride and expectation. + </p> + <p> + “We must have something to eat,” Brown remarked, laying out some + provisions which he had brought with him. + </p> + <p> + “Afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + “No, now,” said the stolid mechanician. “I am half starved.” He pulled up + to the table and made a hearty meal, while his Celtic companion strode + impatiently up and down, with twitching fingers and restless eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Now then,” said Brown, facing round, and brushing the crumbs from his + lap, “who is to put it on?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall,” cried his companion eagerly. “What we do to-night is likely to + be historic.” + </p> + <p> + “But there is some danger,” suggested Brown. “We cannot quite tell how it + may act.” + </p> + <p> + “That is nothing,” said Pericord, with a wave of his hand. + </p> + <p> + “But there is no use our going out of our way to incur danger.” + </p> + <p> + “What then? One of us must do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all. The motor would act equally well if attached to any inanimate + object.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Pericord, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “There are bricks by the barn. I have a sack here. Why should not a bagful + of them take your place?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a good idea. I see no objection.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on then,” and the two sallied out, bearing with them the various + sections of their machine. The moon was shining cold and clear though an + occasional ragged cloud drifted across her face. All was still and silent + upon the Downs. They stood and listened before they entered the barn, but + not a sound came to their ears, save the dull murmur of the sea and the + distant barking of a dog. Pericord journeyed backwards and forwards with + all that they might need, while Brown filled a long narrow sack with + bricks. + </p> + <p> + When all was ready, the door of the barn was closed, and the lamp balanced + upon an empty packing-case. The bag of bricks was laid upon two trestles, + and the broad steel girdle was buckled round it. Then the great flanges, + the wires, and the metal box containing the motor were in turn attached to + the girdle. Last of all a flat steel rudder, shaped like a fish’s tail, + was secured to the bottom of the sack. + </p> + <p> + “We must make it travel in a small circle,” said Pericord, glancing round + at the bare high walls. + </p> + <p> + “Tie the rudder down at one side,” suggested Brown. “Now it is ready. + Press the connection and off she goes!” + </p> + <p> + Pericord leaned forward, his long sallow face quivering with excitement. + His white nervous hands darted here and there among the wires. Brown stood + impassive with critical eyes. There was a sharp burr from the machine. The + huge yellow wings gave a convulsive flap. Then another. Then a third, + slower and stronger, with a fuller sweep. Then a fourth which filled the + barn with a blast of driven air. At the fifth the bag of bricks began to + dance upon the trestles. At the sixth it sprang into the air, and would + have fallen to the ground, but the seventh came to save it, and fluttered + it forward through the air. Slowly rising, it flapped heavily round in a + circle, like some great clumsy bird, filling the barn with its buzzing and + whirring. In the uncertain yellow light of the single lamp it was strange + to see the loom of the ungainly thing, flapping off into the shadows, and + then circling back into the narrow zone of light. + </p> + <p> + The two men stood for a while in silence. Then Pericord threw his long + arms up into the air. + </p> + <p> + “It acts!” he cried. “The Brown-Pericord Motor acts!” He danced about like + a madman in his delight. Brown’s eyes twinkled, and he began to whistle. + </p> + <p> + “See how smoothly it goes, Brown!” cried the inventor. “And the rudder—how + well it acts! We must register it tomorrow.” + </p> + <p> + His comrade’s face darkened and set. “It <i>is</i> registered,” he said, + with a forced laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Registered?” said Pericord. “Registered?” He repeated the word first in a + whisper, and then in a kind of scream. “Who has dared to register my + invention?” + </p> + <p> + “I did it this morning. There is nothing to be excited about. It is all + right.” + </p> + <p> + “You registered the motor! Under whose name?” + </p> + <p> + “Under my own,” said Brown, sullenly. “I consider that I have the best + right to it.” + </p> + <p> + “And my name does not appear?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but—” + </p> + <p> + “You villain!” screamed Pericord. “You thief and villain! You would steal + my work! You would filch my credit! I will have that patent back if I have + to tear your throat out!” A sombre fire burned in his black eyes, and his + hands writhed themselves together with passion. Brown was no coward, but + he shrank back as the other advanced upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Keep your hands off!” he said, drawing a knife from his pocket. “I will + defend myself if you attack me.” + </p> + <p> + “You threaten me?” cried Pericord, whose face was livid with anger. “You + are a bully as well as a cheat. Will you give up the patent?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I will not.” + </p> + <p> + “Brown, I say, give it up!” + </p> + <p> + “I will not. I did the work.” + </p> + <p> + Pericord sprang madly forward with blazing eyes and clutching fingers. His + companion writhed out of his grasp, but was dashed against the + packing-case, over which he fell. The lamp was extinguished, and the whole + barn plunged into darkness. A single ray of moonlight shining through a + narrow chink flickered over the great waving fans as they came and went. + </p> + <p> + “Will you give up the patent, Brown?” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. + </p> + <p> + “Will you give it up?” + </p> + <p> + Again no answer. Not a sound save the humming and creaking overhead. A + cold pang of fear and doubt struck through Pericord’s heart. He felt + aimlessly about in the dark and his fingers closed upon a hand. It was + cold and unresponsive. With all his anger turned to icy horror he struck a + match, set the lamp up, and lit it. + </p> + <p> + Brown lay huddled up on the other side of the packing-case. Pericord + seized him in his arms, and with convulsive strength lifted him across. + Then the mystery of his silence was explained. He had fallen with his + right arms doubled up under him, and his own weight had driven the knife + deeply into his body. He had died without a groan. The tragedy had been + sudden, horrible, and complete. + </p> + <p> + Pericord sat silently on the edge of the case, staring blankly down, and + shivering like one with the ague, while the great Brown-Pericord Motor + boomed and hurtled above him. How long he sat there can never be known. It + might have been minutes or it might have been hours. A thousand mad + schemes flashed through his dazed brain. It was true that he had been only + the indirect cause. But who would believe that? He glanced down at his + blood-spattered clothing. Everything was against him. It would be better + to fly than to give himself up, relying upon his innocence. No one in + London knew where they were. If he could dispose of the body he might have + a few days clear before any suspicion would be aroused. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a loud crash recalled him to himself. The flying sack had + gradually risen with each successive circle until it had struck against + the rafters. The blow displaced the connecting-gear, and the machine fell + heavily to the ground. Pericord undid the girdle. The motor was uninjured. + A sudden strange thought flashed upon him as he looked at it. The machine + had become hateful to him. He might dispose both of it and the body in a + way that would baffle all human search. + </p> + <p> + He threw open the barn door, and carried his companion out into the + moonlight. There was a hillock outside, and on the summit of this he laid + him reverently down. Then he brought from the barn the motor, the girdle + and the flanges. With trembling fingers he fastened the broad steel belt + round the dead man’s waist. Then he screwed the wings into the sockets. + Beneath he slung the motor-box, fastened the wires, and switched on the + connection. For a minute or two the huge yellow fans flapped and + flickered. Then the body began to move in little jumps down the side of + the hillock, gathering a gradual momentum, until at last it heaved up into + the air and soared off in the moonlight. He had not used the rudder, but + had turned the head for the south. Gradually the weird thing rose higher, + and sped faster, until it had passed over the line of cliff, and was + sweeping over the silent sea. Pericord watched it with a white drawn face, + until it looked like a black bird with golden wings half shrouded in the + mist which lay over the waters. + </p> + <p> + In the New York State Lunatic Asylum there is a wild-eyed man whose name + and birth-place are alike unknown. His reason has been unseated by some + sudden shock, the doctors say, though of what nature they are unable to + determine. “It is the most delicate machine which is most readily put out + of gear,” they remark, and point, in proof of their axiom, to the + complicated electric engines, and remarkable aeronautic machines which the + patient is fond of devising in his more lucid moments. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP + </h2> + <p> + The following narrative was found among the papers of Dr. James + Hardcastle, who died of phthisis on February 4th, 1908, at 36, Upper + Coventry Flats, South Kensington. Those who knew him best, while refusing + to express an opinion upon this particular statement, are unanimous in + asserting that he was a man of a sober and scientific turn of mind, + absolutely devoid of imagination, and most unlikely to invent any abnormal + series of events. The paper was contained in an envelope, which was + docketed, “A Short Account of the Circumstances which occurred near Miss + Allerton’s Farm in North-West Derbyshire in the Spring of Last Year.” The + envelope was sealed, and on the other side was written in pencil— + </p> + <p> + DEAR SEATON,— + </p> + <p> + “It may interest, and perhaps pain you, to know that the incredulity with + which you met my story has prevented me from ever opening my mouth upon + the subject again. I leave this record after my death, and perhaps + strangers may be found to have more confidence in me than my friend.” + </p> + <p> + Inquiry has failed to elicit who this Seaton may have been. I may add that + the visit of the deceased to Allerton’s Farm, and the general nature of + the alarm there, apart from his particular explanation, have been + absolutely established. With this foreword I append his account exactly as + he left it. It is in the form of a diary, some entries in which have been + expanded, while a few have been erased. + </p> + <p> + April 17.—Already I feel the benefit of this wonderful upland air. + The farm of the Allertons lies fourteen hundred and twenty feet above + sea-level, so it may well be a bracing climate. Beyond the usual morning + cough I have very little discomfort, and, what with the fresh milk and the + home-grown mutton, I have every chance of putting on weight. I think + Saunderson will be pleased. + </p> + <p> + The two Miss Allertons are charmingly quaint and kind, two dear little + hard-working old maids, who are ready to lavish all the heart which might + have gone out to husband and to children upon an invalid stranger. Truly, + the old maid is a most useful person, one of the reserve forces of the + community. They talk of the superfluous woman, but what would the poor + superfluous man do without her kindly presence? By the way, in their + simplicity they very quickly let out the reason why Saunderson recommended + their farm. The Professor rose from the ranks himself, and I believe that + in his youth he was not above scaring crows in these very fields. + </p> + <p> + It is a most lonely spot, and the walks are picturesque in the extreme. + The farm consists of grazing land lying at the bottom of an irregular + valley. On each side are the fantastic limestone hills, formed of rock so + soft that you can break it away with your hands. All this country is + hollow. Could you strike it with some gigantic hammer it would boom like a + drum, or possibly cave in altogether and expose some huge subterranean + sea. A great sea there must surely be, for on all sides the streams run + into the mountain itself, never to reappear. There are gaps everywhere + amid the rocks, and when you pass through them you find yourself in great + caverns, which wind down into the bowels of the earth. I have a small + bicycle lamp, and it is a perpetual joy to me to carry it into these weird + solitudes, and to see the wonderful silver and black effect when I throw + its light upon the stalactites which drape the lofty roofs. Shut off the + lamp, and you are in the blackest darkness. Turn it on, and it is a scene + from the Arabian Nights. + </p> + <p> + But there is one of these strange openings in the earth which has a + special interest, for it is the handiwork, not of nature, but of man. I + had never heard of Blue John when I came to these parts. It is the name + given to a peculiar mineral of a beautiful purple shade, which is only + found at one or two places in the world. It is so rare that an ordinary + vase of Blue John would be valued at a great price. The Romans, with that + extraordinary instinct of theirs, discovered that it was to be found in + this valley, and sank a horizontal shaft deep into the mountain side. The + opening of their mine has been called Blue John Gap, a clean-cut arch in + the rock, the mouth all overgrown with bushes. It is a goodly passage + which the Roman miners have cut, and it intersects some of the great + water-worn caves, so that if you enter Blue John Gap you would do well to + mark your steps and to have a good store of candles, or you may never make + your way back to the daylight again. I have not yet gone deeply into it, + but this very day I stood at the mouth of the arched tunnel, and peering + down into the black recesses beyond, I vowed that when my health returned + I would devote some holiday to exploring those mysterious depths and + finding out for myself how far the Roman had penetrated into the + Derbyshire hills. + </p> + <p> + Strange how superstitious these countrymen are! I should have thought + better of young Armitage, for he is a man of some education and character, + and a very fine fellow for his station in life. I was standing at the Blue + John Gap when he came across the field to me. + </p> + <p> + “Well, doctor,” said he, “you’re not afraid, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Afraid!” I answered. “Afraid of what?” + </p> + <p> + “Of it,” said he, with a jerk of his thumb towards the black vault, “of + the Terror that lives in the Blue John Cave.” + </p> + <p> + How absurdly easy it is for a legend to arise in a lonely countryside! I + examined him as to the reasons for his weird belief. It seems that from + time to time sheep have been missing from the fields, carried bodily away, + according to Armitage. That they could have wandered away of their own + accord and disappeared among the mountains was an explanation to which he + would not listen. On one occasion a pool of blood had been found, and some + tufts of wool. That also, I pointed out, could be explained in a perfectly + natural way. Further, the nights upon which sheep disappeared were + invariably very dark, cloudy nights with no moon. This I met with the + obvious retort that those were the nights which a commonplace + sheep-stealer would naturally choose for his work. On one occasion a gap + had been made in a wall, and some of the stones scattered for a + considerable distance. Human agency again, in my opinion. Finally, + Armitage clinched all his arguments by telling me that he had actually + heard the Creature—indeed, that anyone could hear it who remained + long enough at the Gap. It was a distant roaring of an immense volume. I + could not but smile at this, knowing, as I do, the strange reverberations + which come out of an underground water system running amid the chasms of a + limestone formation. My incredulity annoyed Armitage, so that he turned + and left me with some abruptness. + </p> + <p> + And now comes the queer point about the whole business. I was still + standing near the mouth of the cave turning over in my mind the various + statements of Armitage, and reflecting how readily they could be explained + away, when suddenly, from the depth of the tunnel beside me, there issued + a most extraordinary sound. How shall I describe it? First of all it + seemed to be a great distance away, far down in the bowels of the earth. + Secondly, in spite of this suggestion of distance, it was very loud. + Lastly, it was not a boom, nor a crash, such as one would associate with + falling water or tumbling rock, but it was a high whine, tremulous and + vibrating, almost like the whinnying of a horse. It was certainly a most + remarkable experience, and one which for a moment, I must admit, gave a + new significance to Armitage’s words. I waited by the Blue John Gap for + half an hour or more, but there was no return of the sound, so at last I + wandered back to the farmhouse, rather mystified by what had occurred. + Decidedly I shall explore that cavern when my strength is restored. Of + course, Armitage’s explanation is too absurd for discussion, and yet that + sound was certainly very strange. It still rings in my ears as I write. + </p> + <p> + April 20.—In the last three days I have made several expeditions to + the Blue John Gap, and have even penetrated some short distance, but my + bicycle lantern is so small and weak that I dare not trust myself very + far. I shall do the thing more systematically. I have heard no sound at + all, and could almost believe that I had been the victim of some + hallucination, suggested, perhaps, by Armitage’s conversation. Of course, + the whole idea is absurd, and yet I must confess that those bushes at the + entrance of the cave do present an appearance as if some heavy creature + had forced its way through them. I begin to be keenly interested. I have + said nothing to the Miss Allertons, for they are quite superstitious + enough already, but I have bought some candles, and mean to investigate + for myself. + </p> + <p> + I observed this morning that among the numerous tufts of sheep’s wool + which lay among the bushes near the cavern there was one which was smeared + with blood. Of course, my reason tells me that if sheep wander into such + rocky places they are likely to injure themselves, and yet somehow that + splash of crimson gave me a sudden shock, and for a moment I found myself + shrinking back in horror from the old Roman arch. A fetid breath seemed to + ooze from the black depths into which I peered. Could it indeed be + possible that some nameless thing, some dreadful presence, was lurking + down yonder? I should have been incapable of such feelings in the days of + my strength, but one grows more nervous and fanciful when one’s health is + shaken. + </p> + <p> + For the moment I weakened in my resolution, and was ready to leave the + secret of the old mine, if one exists, for ever unsolved. But tonight my + interest has returned and my nerves grown more steady. Tomorrow I trust + that I shall have gone more deeply into this matter. + </p> + <p> + April 22.—Let me try and set down as accurately as I can my + extraordinary experience of yesterday. I started in the afternoon, and + made my way to the Blue John Gap. I confess that my misgivings returned as + I gazed into its depths, and I wished that I had brought a companion to + share my exploration. Finally, with a return of resolution, I lit my + candle, pushed my way through the briars, and descended into the rocky + shaft. + </p> + <p> + It went down at an acute angle for some fifty feet, the floor being + covered with broken stone. Thence there extended a long, straight passage + cut in the solid rock. I am no geologist, but the lining of this corridor + was certainly of some harder material than limestone, for there were + points where I could actually see the tool-marks which the old miners had + left in their excavation, as fresh as if they had been done yesterday. + Down this strange, old-world corridor I stumbled, my feeble flame throwing + a dim circle of light around me, which made the shadows beyond the more + threatening and obscure. Finally, I came to a spot where the Roman tunnel + opened into a water-worn cavern—a huge hall, hung with long white + icicles of lime deposit. From this central chamber I could dimly perceive + that a number of passages worn by the subterranean streams wound away into + the depths of the earth. I was standing there wondering whether I had + better return, or whether I dare venture farther into this dangerous + labyrinth, when my eyes fell upon something at my feet which strongly + arrested my attention. + </p> + <p> + The greater part of the floor of the cavern was covered with boulders of + rock or with hard incrustations of lime, but at this particular point + there had been a drip from the distant roof, which had left a patch of + soft mud. In the very centre of this there was a huge mark—an + ill-defined blotch, deep, broad and irregular, as if a great boulder had + fallen upon it. No loose stone lay near, however, nor was there anything + to account for the impression. It was far too large to be caused by any + possible animal, and besides, there was only the one, and the patch of mud + was of such a size that no reasonable stride could have covered it. As I + rose from the examination of that singular mark and then looked round into + the black shadows which hemmed me in, I must confess that I felt for a + moment a most unpleasant sinking of my heart, and that, do what I could, + the candle trembled in my outstretched hand. + </p> + <p> + I soon recovered my nerve, however, when I reflected how absurd it was to + associate so huge and shapeless a mark with the track of any known animal. + Even an elephant could not have produced it. I determined, therefore, that + I would not be scared by vague and senseless fears from carrying out my + exploration. Before proceeding, I took good note of a curious rock + formation in the wall by which I could recognize the entrance of the Roman + tunnel. The precaution was very necessary, for the great cave, so far as I + could see it, was intersected by passages. Having made sure of my + position, and reassured myself by examining my spare candles and my + matches, I advanced slowly over the rocky and uneven surface of the + cavern. + </p> + <p> + And now I come to the point where I met with such sudden and desperate + disaster. A stream, some twenty feet broad, ran across my path, and I + walked for some little distance along the bank to find a spot where I + could cross dry-shod. Finally, I came to a place where a single flat + boulder lay near the centre, which I could reach in a stride. As it + chanced, however, the rock had been cut away and made top-heavy by the + rush of the stream, so that it tilted over as I landed on it and shot me + into the ice-cold water. My candle went out, and I found myself + floundering about in utter and absolute darkness. + </p> + <p> + I staggered to my feet again, more amused than alarmed by my adventure. + The candle had fallen from my hand, and was lost in the stream, but I had + two others in my pocket, so that it was of no importance. I got one of + them ready, and drew out my box of matches to light it. Only then did I + realize my position. The box had been soaked in my fall into the river. It + was impossible to strike the matches. + </p> + <p> + A cold hand seemed to close round my heart as I realized my position. The + darkness was opaque and horrible. It was so utter that one put one’s hand + up to one’s face as if to press off something solid. I stood still, and by + an effort I steadied myself. I tried to reconstruct in my mind a map of + the floor of the cavern as I had last seen it. Alas! the bearings which + had impressed themselves upon my mind were high on the wall, and not to be + found by touch. Still, I remembered in a general way how the sides were + situated, and I hoped that by groping my way along them I should at last + come to the opening of the Roman tunnel. Moving very slowly, and + continually striking against the rocks, I set out on this desperate quest. + </p> + <p> + But I very soon realized how impossible it was. In that black, velvety + darkness one lost all one’s bearings in an instant. Before I had made a + dozen paces, I was utterly bewildered as to my whereabouts. The rippling + of the stream, which was the one sound audible, showed me where it lay, + but the moment that I left its bank I was utterly lost. The idea of + finding my way back in absolute darkness through that limestone labyrinth + was clearly an impossible one. + </p> + <p> + I sat down upon a boulder and reflected upon my unfortunate plight. I had + not told anyone that I proposed to come to the Blue John mine, and it was + unlikely that a search party would come after me. Therefore I must trust + to my own resources to get clear of the danger. There was only one hope, + and that was that the matches might dry. When I fell into the river, only + half of me had got thoroughly wet. My left shoulder had remained above the + water. I took the box of matches, therefore, and put it into my left + armpit. The moist air of the cavern might possibly be counteracted by the + heat of my body, but even so, I knew that I could not hope to get a light + for many hours. Meanwhile there was nothing for it but to wait. + </p> + <p> + By good luck I had slipped several biscuits into my pocket before I left + the farm-house. These I now devoured, and washed them down with a draught + from that wretched stream which had been the cause of all my misfortunes. + Then I felt about for a comfortable seat among the rocks, and, having + discovered a place where I could get a support for my back, I stretched + out my legs and settled myself down to wait. I was wretchedly damp and + cold, but I tried to cheer myself with the reflection that modern science + prescribed open windows and walks in all weather for my disease. + Gradually, lulled by the monotonous gurgle of the stream, and by the + absolute darkness, I sank into an uneasy slumber. + </p> + <p> + How long this lasted I cannot say. It may have been for an hour, it may + have been for several. Suddenly I sat up on my rock couch, with every + nerve thrilling and every sense acutely on the alert. Beyond all doubt I + had heard a sound—some sound very distinct from the gurgling of the + waters. It had passed, but the reverberation of it still lingered in my + ear. Was it a search party? They would most certainly have shouted, and + vague as this sound was which had wakened me, it was very distinct from + the human voice. I sat palpitating and hardly daring to breathe. There it + was again! And again! Now it had become continuous. It was a tread—yes, + surely it was the tread of some living creature. But what a tread it was! + It gave one the impression of enormous weight carried upon sponge-like + feet, which gave forth a muffled but ear-filling sound. The darkness was + as complete as ever, but the tread was regular and decisive. And it was + coming beyond all question in my direction. + </p> + <p> + My skin grew cold, and my hair stood on end as I listened to that steady + and ponderous footfall. There was some creature there, and surely by the + speed of its advance, it was one which could see in the dark. I crouched + low on my rock and tried to blend myself into it. The steps grew nearer + still, then stopped, and presently I was aware of a loud lapping and + gurgling. The creature was drinking at the stream. Then again there was + silence, broken by a succession of long sniffs and snorts of tremendous + volume and energy. Had it caught the scent of me? My own nostrils were + filled by a low fetid odour, mephitic and abominable. Then I heard the + steps again. They were on my side of the stream now. The stones rattled + within a few yards of where I lay. Hardly daring to breathe, I crouched + upon my rock. Then the steps drew away. I heard the splash as it returned + across the river, and the sound died away into the distance in the + direction from which it had come. + </p> + <p> + For a long time I lay upon the rock, too much horrified to move. I thought + of the sound which I had heard coming from the depths of the cave, of + Armitage’s fears, of the strange impression in the mud, and now came this + final and absolute proof that there was indeed some inconceivable monster, + something utterly unearthly and dreadful, which lurked in the hollow of + the mountain. Of its nature or form I could frame no conception, save that + it was both light-footed and gigantic. The combat between my reason, which + told me that such things could not be, and my senses, which told me that + they were, raged within me as I lay. Finally, I was almost ready to + persuade myself that this experience had been part of some evil dream, and + that my abnormal condition might have conjured up an hallucination. But + there remained one final experience which removed the last possibility of + doubt from my mind. + </p> + <p> + I had taken my matches from my armpit and felt them. They seemed perfectly + hard and dry. Stooping down into a crevice of the rocks, I tried one of + them. To my delight it took fire at once. I lit the candle, and, with a + terrified backward glance into the obscure depths of the cavern, I hurried + in the direction of the Roman passage. As I did so I passed the patch of + mud on which I had seen the huge imprint. Now I stood astonished before + it, for there were three similar imprints upon its surface, enormous in + size, irregular in outline, of a depth which indicated the ponderous + weight which had left them. Then a great terror surged over me. Stooping + and shading my candle with my hand, I ran in a frenzy of fear to the rocky + archway, hastened up it, and never stopped until, with weary feet and + panting lungs, I rushed up the final slope of stones, broke through the + tangle of briars, and flung myself exhausted upon the soft grass under the + peaceful light of the stars. It was three in the morning when I reached + the farm-house, and today I am all unstrung and quivering after my + terrific adventure. As yet I have told no one. I must move warily in the + matter. What would the poor lonely women, or the uneducated yokels here + think of it if I were to tell them my experience? Let me go to someone who + can understand and advise. + </p> + <p> + April 25.—I was laid up in bed for two days after my incredible + adventure in the cavern. I use the adjective with a very definite meaning, + for I have had an experience since which has shocked me almost as much as + the other. I have said that I was looking round for someone who could + advise me. There is a Dr. Mark Johnson who practices some few miles away, + to whom I had a note of recommendation from Professor Saunderson. To him I + drove, when I was strong enough to get about, and I recounted to him my + whole strange experience. He listened intently, and then carefully + examined me, paying special attention to my reflexes and to the pupils of + my eyes. When he had finished, he refused to discuss my adventure, saying + that it was entirely beyond him, but he gave me the card of a Mr. Picton + at Castleton, with the advice that I should instantly go to him and tell + him the story exactly as I had done to himself. He was, according to my + adviser, the very man who was pre-eminently suited to help me. I went on + to the station, therefore, and made my way to the little town, which is + some ten miles away. Mr. Picton appeared to be a man of importance, as his + brass plate was displayed upon the door of a considerable building on the + outskirts of the town. I was about to ring his bell, when some misgiving + came into my mind, and, crossing to a neighbouring shop, I asked the man + behind the counter if he could tell me anything of Mr. Picton. “Why,” said + he, “he is the best mad doctor in Derbyshire, and yonder is his asylum.” + You can imagine that it was not long before I had shaken the dust of + Castleton from my feet and returned to the farm, cursing all unimaginative + pedants who cannot conceive that there may be things in creation which + have never yet chanced to come across their mole’s vision. After all, now + that I am cooler, I can afford to admit that I have been no more + sympathetic to Armitage than Dr. Johnson has been to me. + </p> + <p> + April 27. When I was a student I had the reputation of being a man of + courage and enterprise. I remember that when there was a ghost-hunt at + Coltbridge it was I who sat up in the haunted house. Is it advancing years + (after all, I am only thirty-five), or is it this physical malady which + has caused degeneration? Certainly my heart quails when I think of that + horrible cavern in the hill, and the certainty that it has some monstrous + occupant. What shall I do? There is not an hour in the day that I do not + debate the question. If I say nothing, then the mystery remains unsolved. + If I do say anything, then I have the alternative of mad alarm over the + whole countryside, or of absolute incredulity which may end in consigning + me to an asylum. On the whole, I think that my best course is to wait, and + to prepare for some expedition which shall be more deliberate and better + thought out than the last. As a first step I have been to Castleton and + obtained a few essentials—a large acetylene lantern for one thing, + and a good double-barrelled sporting rifle for another. The latter I have + hired, but I have bought a dozen heavy game cartridges, which would bring + down a rhinoceros. Now I am ready for my troglodyte friend. Give me better + health and a little spate of energy, and I shall try conclusions with him + yet. But who and what is he? Ah! there is the question which stands + between me and my sleep. How many theories do I form, only to discard each + in turn! It is all so utterly unthinkable. And yet the cry, the footmark, + the tread in the cavern—no reasoning can get past these. I think of + the old-world legends of dragons and of other monsters. Were they, + perhaps, not such fairy-tales as we have thought? Can it be that there is + some fact which underlies them, and am I, of all mortals, the one who is + chosen to expose it? + </p> + <p> + May 3.—For several days I have been laid up by the vagaries of an + English spring, and during those days there have been developments, the + true and sinister meaning of which no one can appreciate save myself. I + may say that we have had cloudy and moonless nights of late, which + according to my information were the seasons upon which sheep disappeared. + Well, sheep <i>have</i> disappeared. Two of Miss Allerton’s, one of old + Pearson’s of the Cat Walk, and one of Mrs. Moulton’s. Four in all during + three nights. No trace is left of them at all, and the countryside is + buzzing with rumours of gipsies and of sheep-stealers. + </p> + <p> + But there is something more serious than that. Young Armitage has + disappeared also. He left his moorland cottage early on Wednesday night + and has never been heard of since. He was an unattached man, so there is + less sensation than would otherwise be the case. The popular explanation + is that he owes money, and has found a situation in some other part of the + country, whence he will presently write for his belongings. But I have + grave misgivings. Is it not much more likely that the recent tragedy of + the sheep has caused him to take some steps which may have ended in his + own destruction? He may, for example, have lain in wait for the creature + and been carried off by it into the recesses of the mountains. What an + inconceivable fate for a civilized Englishman of the twentieth century! + And yet I feel that it is possible and even probable. But in that case, + how far am I answerable both for his death and for any other mishap which + may occur? Surely with the knowledge I already possess it must be my duty + to see that something is done, or if necessary to do it myself. It must be + the latter, for this morning I went down to the local police-station and + told my story. The inspector entered it all in a large book and bowed me + out with commendable gravity, but I heard a burst of laughter before I had + got down his garden path. No doubt he was recounting my adventure to his + family. + </p> + <p> + June 10.—I am writing this, propped up in bed, six weeks after my + last entry in this journal. I have gone through a terrible shock both to + mind and body, arising from such an experience as has seldom befallen a + human being before. But I have attained my end. The danger from the Terror + which dwells in the Blue John Gap has passed never to return. Thus much at + least I, a broken invalid, have done for the common good. Let me now + recount what occurred as clearly as I may. + </p> + <p> + The night of Friday, May 3rd, was dark and cloudy—the very night for + the monster to walk. About eleven o’clock I went from the farm-house with + my lantern and my rifle, having first left a note upon the table of my + bedroom in which I said that, if I were missing, search should be made for + me in the direction of the Gap. I made my way to the mouth of the Roman + shaft, and, having perched myself among the rocks close to the opening, I + shut off my lantern and waited patiently with my loaded rifle ready to my + hand. + </p> + <p> + It was a melancholy vigil. All down the winding valley I could see the + scattered lights of the farm-houses, and the church clock of + Chapel-le-Dale tolling the hours came faintly to my ears. These tokens of + my fellow-men served only to make my own position seem the more lonely, + and to call for a greater effort to overcome the terror which tempted me + continually to get back to the farm, and abandon for ever this dangerous + quest. And yet there lies deep in every man a rooted self-respect which + makes it hard for him to turn back from that which he has once undertaken. + This feeling of personal pride was my salvation now, and it was that alone + which held me fast when every instinct of my nature was dragging me away. + I am glad now that I had the strength. In spite of all that is has cost + me, my manhood is at least above reproach. + </p> + <p> + Twelve o’clock struck in the distant church, then one, then two. It was + the darkest hour of the night. The clouds were drifting low, and there was + not a star in the sky. An owl was hooting somewhere among the rocks, but + no other sound, save the gentle sough of the wind, came to my ears. And + then suddenly I heard it! From far away down the tunnel came those muffled + steps, so soft and yet so ponderous. I heard also the rattle of stones as + they gave way under that giant tread. They drew nearer. They were close + upon me. I heard the crashing of the bushes round the entrance, and then + dimly through the darkness I was conscious of the loom of some enormous + shape, some monstrous inchoate creature, passing swiftly and very silently + out from the tunnel. I was paralysed with fear and amazement. Long as I + had waited, now that it had actually come I was unprepared for the shock. + I lay motionless and breathless, whilst the great dark mass whisked by me + and was swallowed up in the night. + </p> + <p> + But now I nerved myself for its return. No sound came from the sleeping + countryside to tell of the horror which was loose. In no way could I judge + how far off it was, what it was doing, or when it might be back. But not a + second time should my nerve fail me, not a second time should it pass + unchallenged. I swore it between my clenched teeth as I laid my cocked + rifle across the rock. + </p> + <p> + And yet it nearly happened. There was no warning of approach now as the + creature passed over the grass. Suddenly, like a dark, drifting shadow, + the huge bulk loomed up once more before me, making for the entrance of + the cave. Again came that paralysis of volition which held my crooked + forefinger impotent upon the trigger. But with a desperate effort I shook + it off. Even as the brushwood rustled, and the monstrous beast blended + with the shadow of the Gap, I fired at the retreating form. In the blaze + of the gun I caught a glimpse of a great shaggy mass, something with rough + and bristling hair of a withered grey colour, fading away to white in its + lower parts, the huge body supported upon short, thick, curving legs. I + had just that glance, and then I heard the rattle of the stones as the + creature tore down into its burrow. In an instant, with a triumphant + revulsion of feeling, I had cast my fears to the wind, and uncovering my + powerful lantern, with my rifle in my hand, I sprang down from my rock and + rushed after the monster down the old Roman shaft. + </p> + <p> + My splendid lamp cast a brilliant flood of vivid light in front of me, + very different from the yellow glimmer which had aided me down the same + passage only twelve days before. As I ran, I saw the great beast lurching + along before me, its huge bulk filling up the whole space from wall to + wall. Its hair looked like coarse faded oakum, and hung down in long, + dense masses which swayed as it moved. It was like an enormous unclipped + sheep in its fleece, but in size it was far larger than the largest + elephant, and its breadth seemed to be nearly as great as its height. It + fills me with amazement now to think that I should have dared to follow + such a horror into the bowels of the earth, but when one’s blood is up, + and when one’s quarry seems to be flying, the old primeval hunting-spirit + awakes and prudence is cast to the wind. Rifle in hand, I ran at the top + of my speed upon the trail of the monster. + </p> + <p> + I had seen that the creature was swift. Now I was to find out to my cost + that it was also very cunning. I had imagined that it was in panic flight, + and that I had only to pursue it. The idea that it might turn upon me + never entered my excited brain. I have already explained that the passage + down which I was racing opened into a great central cave. Into this I + rushed, fearful lest I should lose all trace of the beast. But he had + turned upon his own traces, and in a moment we were face to face. + </p> + <p> + That picture, seen in the brilliant white light of the lantern, is etched + for ever upon my brain. He had reared up on his hind legs as a bear would + do, and stood above me, enormous, menacing—such a creature as no + nightmare had ever brought to my imagination. I have said that he reared + like a bear, and there was something bear-like—if one could conceive + a bear which was ten-fold the bulk of any bear seen upon earth—in + his whole pose and attitude, in his great crooked forelegs with their + ivory-white claws, in his rugged skin, and in his red, gaping mouth, + fringed with monstrous fangs. Only in one point did he differ from the + bear, or from any other creature which walks the earth, and even at that + supreme moment a shudder of horror passed over me as I observed that the + eyes which glistened in the glow of my lantern were huge, projecting + bulbs, white and sightless. For a moment his great paws swung over my + head. The next he fell forward upon me, I and my broken lantern crashed to + the earth, and I remember no more. + </p> + <p> + When I came to myself I was back in the farm-house of the Allertons. Two + days had passed since my terrible adventure in the Blue John Gap. It seems + that I had lain all night in the cave insensible from concussion of the + brain, with my left arm and two ribs badly fractured. In the morning my + note had been found, a search party of a dozen farmers assembled, and I + had been tracked down and carried back to my bedroom, where I had lain in + high delirium ever since. There was, it seems, no sign of the creature, + and no bloodstain which would show that my bullet had found him as he + passed. Save for my own plight and the marks upon the mud, there was + nothing to prove that what I said was true. + </p> + <p> + Six weeks have now elapsed, and I am able to sit out once more in the + sunshine. Just opposite me is the steep hillside, grey with shaly rock, + and yonder on its flank is the dark cleft which marks the opening of the + Blue John Gap. But it is no longer a source of terror. Never again through + that ill-omened tunnel shall any strange shape flit out into the world of + men. The educated and the scientific, the Dr. Johnsons and the like, may + smile at my narrative, but the poorer folk of the countryside had never a + doubt as to its truth. On the day after my recovering consciousness they + assembled in their hundreds round the Blue John Gap. As the <i>Castleton + Courier</i> said: + </p> + <p> + “It was useless for our correspondent, or for any of the adventurous + gentlemen who had come from Matlock, Buxton, and other parts, to offer to + descend, to explore the cave to the end, and to finally test the + extraordinary narrative of Dr. James Hardcastle. The country people had + taken the matter into their own hands, and from an early hour of the + morning they had worked hard in stopping up the entrance of the tunnel. + There is a sharp slope where the shaft begins, and great boulders, rolled + along by many willing hands, were thrust down it until the Gap was + absolutely sealed. So ends the episode which has caused such excitement + throughout the country. Local opinion is fiercely divided upon the + subject. On the one hand are those who point to Dr. Hardcastle’s impaired + health, and to the possibility of cerebral lesions of tubercular origin + giving rise to strange hallucinations. Some <i>idee fixe</i>, according to + these gentlemen, caused the doctor to wander down the tunnel, and a fall + among the rocks was sufficient to account for his injuries. On the other + hand, a legend of a strange creature in the Gap has existed for some + months back, and the farmers look upon Dr. Hardcastle’s narrative and his + personal injuries as a final corroboration. So the matter stands, and so + the matter will continue to stand, for no definite solution seems to us to + be now possible. It transcends human wit to give any scientific + explanation which could cover the alleged facts.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps before the <i>Courier</i> published these words they would have + been wise to send their representative to me. I have thought the matter + out, as no one else has occasion to do, and it is possible that I might + have removed some of the more obvious difficulties of the narrative and + brought it one degree nearer to scientific acceptance. Let me then write + down the only explanation which seems to me to elucidate what I know to my + cost to have been a series of facts. My theory may seem to be wildly + improbable, but at least no one can venture to say that it is impossible. + </p> + <p> + My view is—and it was formed, as is shown by my diary, before my + personal adventure—that in this part of England there is a vast + subterranean lake or sea, which is fed by the great number of streams + which pass down through the limestone. Where there is a large collection + of water there must also be some evaporation, mists or rain, and a + possibility of vegetation. This in turn suggests that there may be animal + life, arising, as the vegetable life would also do, from those seeds and + types which had been introduced at an early period of the world’s history, + when communication with the outer air was more easy. This place had then + developed a fauna and flora of its own, including such monsters as the one + which I had seen, which may well have been the old cave-bear, enormously + enlarged and modified by its new environment. For countless aeons the + internal and the external creation had kept apart, growing steadily away + from each other. Then there had come some rift in the depths of the + mountain which had enabled one creature to wander up and, by means of the + Roman tunnel, to reach the open air. Like all subterranean life, it had + lost the power of sight, but this had no doubt been compensated for by + nature in other directions. Certainly it had some means of finding its way + about, and of hunting down the sheep upon the hillside. As to its choice + of dark nights, it is part of my theory that light was painful to those + great white eyeballs, and that it was only a pitch-black world which it + could tolerate. Perhaps, indeed, it was the glare of my lantern which + saved my life at that awful moment when we were face to face. So I read + the riddle. I leave these facts behind me, and if you can explain them, do + so; or if you choose to doubt them, do so. Neither your belief nor your + incredulity can alter them, nor affect one whose task is nearly over. + </p> + <p> + So ended the strange narrative of Dr. James Hardcastle. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Galley, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST GALLEY *** + +***** This file should be named 8727-h.htm or 8727-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/7/2/8727/ + +Produced by Lionel G. Sear, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Last Galley + Impressions and Tales + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Posting Date: March 11, 2009 [EBook #8727] +Release Date: August, 2005 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST GALLEY *** + + + + +Produced by Lionel G. Sear + + + + + +THE LAST GALLEY + +IMPRESSIONS AND TALES + +By Arthur Conan Doyle + + + + +PREFACE + + + +I have written "Impressions and Tales" upon the title-page of this +volume, because I have included within the same cover two styles of work +which present an essential difference. + +The second half of the collection consists of eight stories, which +explain themselves. + +The first half is made up of a series of pictures of the past which +maybe regarded as trial flights towards a larger ideal which I have +long had in my mind. It has seemed to me that there is a region +between actual story and actual history which has never been adequately +exploited. I could imagine, for example, a work dealing with some great +historical epoch, and finding its interest not in the happenings to +particular individuals, their adventures and their loves, but in the +fascination of the actual facts of history themselves. These facts might +be coloured with the glamour which the writer of fiction can give, and +fictitious characters and conversations might illustrate them; but none +the less the actual drama of history and not the drama of invention +should claim the attention of the reader. I have been tempted sometimes +to try the effect upon a larger scale; but meanwhile these short +sketches, portraying various crises in the story of the human race, are +to be judged as experiments in that direction. + +ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. + +WINDLESHAM, CROWBOROUGH, April, 1911. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PART I + + THE LAST GALLEY + THE CONTEST THROUGH THE VEIL + AN ICONOCLAST + GIANT MAXIMIN + THE COMING OF THE HUNS + THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS + THE FIRST CARGO + THE HOME-COMING + THE RED STAR + + + + PART II + + THE SILVER MIRROR + THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY + THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER + THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE + OUT OF THE RUNNING + "DE PROFUNDIS" + THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR + THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP + + + + + +PART I. THE LAST GALLEY + + +"Mutato nomine, de te, Britannia, fabula narratur." + +It was a spring morning, one hundred and forty-six years before the +coming of Christ. The North African Coast, with its broad hem of golden +sand, its green belt of feathery palm trees, and its background of +barren, red-scarped hills, shimmered like a dream country in the opal +light. Save for a narrow edge of snow-white surf, the Mediterranean lay +blue and serene as far as the eye could reach. In all its vast expanse +there was no break but for a single galley, which was slowly making its +way from the direction of Sicily and heading for the distant harbour of +Carthage. + +Seen from afar it was a stately and beautiful vessel, deep red in +colour, double-banked with scarlet oars, its broad, flapping sail +stained with Tyrian purple, its bulwarks gleaming with brass work. A +brazen, three-pronged ram projected in front, and a high golden figure +of Baal, the God of the Phoenicians, children of Canaan, shone upon the +after deck. From the single high mast above the huge sail streamed the +tiger-striped flag of Carthage. So, like some stately scarlet bird, with +golden beak and wings of purple, she swam upon the face of the waters--a +thing of might and of beauty as seen from the distant shore. + +But approach and look at her now! What are these dark streaks which foul +her white decks and dapple her brazen shields? Why do the long red oars +move out of time, irregular, convulsive? Why are some missing from the +staring portholes, some snapped with jagged, yellow edges, some trailing +inert against the side? Why are two prongs of the brazen ram twisted and +broken? See, even the high image of Baal is battered and disfigured! By +every sign this ship has passed through some grievous trial, some day of +terror, which has left its heavy marks upon her. + +And now stand upon the deck itself, and see more closely the men who man +her! There are two decks forward and aft, while in the open waist are +the double banks of seats, above and below, where the rowers, two to +an oar, tug and bend at their endless task. Down the centre is a narrow +platform, along which pace a line of warders, lash in hand, who cut +cruelly at the slave who pauses, be it only for an instant, to sweep the +sweat from his dripping brow. But these slaves--look at them! Some are +captured Romans, some Sicilians, many black Libyans, but all are in the +last exhaustion, their weary eyelids drooped over their eyes, their +lips thick with black crusts, and pink with bloody froth, their arms +and backs moving mechanically to the hoarse chant of the overseer. Their +bodies of all tints from ivory to jet, are stripped to the waist, and +every glistening back shows the angry stripes of the warders. But it is +not from these that the blood comes which reddens the seats and tints +the salt water washing beneath their manacled feet. Great gaping wounds, +the marks of sword slash and spear stab, show crimson upon their naked +chests and shoulders, while many lie huddled and senseless athwart the +benches, careless for ever of the whips which still hiss above them. Now +we can understand those empty portholes and those trailing oars. + +Nor were the crew in better case than their slaves. The decks were +littered with wounded and dying men. It was but a remnant who still +remained upon their feet. The most lay exhausted upon the fore-deck, +while a few of the more zealous were mending their shattered armour, +restringing their bows, or cleaning the deck from the marks of combat. +Upon a raised platform at the base of the mast stood the sailing-master +who conned the ship, his eyes fixed upon the distant point of Megara +which screened the eastern side of the Bay of Carthage. On the +after-deck were gathered a number of officers, silent and brooding, +glancing from time to time at two of their own class who stood apart +deep in conversation. The one, tall, dark, and wiry, with pure, Semitic +features, and the limbs of a giant, was Magro, the famous Carthaginian +captain, whose name was still a terror on every shore, from Gaul to +the Euxine. The other, a white-bearded, swarthy man, with indomitable +courage and energy stamped upon every eager line of his keen, aquiline +face, was Gisco the politician, a man of the highest Punic blood, a +Suffete of the purple robe, and the leader of that party in the State +which had watched and striven amid the selfishness and slothfulness of +his fellow-countrymen to rouse the public spirit and waken the public +conscience to the ever-increasing danger from Rome. As they talked, the +two men glanced continually, with earnest anxious faces, towards the +northern skyline. + +"It is certain," said the older man, with gloom in his voice and +bearing, "none have escaped save ourselves." + +"I did not leave the press of the battle whilst I saw one ship which I +could succour," Magro answered. "As it was, we came away, as you saw, +like a wolf which has a hound hanging on to either haunch. The Roman +dogs can show the wolf-bites which prove it. Had any other galley won +clear, they would surely be with us by now, since they have no place of +safety save Carthage." + +The younger warrior glanced keenly ahead to the distant point which +marked his native city. Already the low, leafy hill could be seen, +dotted with the white villas of the wealthy Phoenician merchants. Above +them, a gleaming dot against the pale blue morning sky, shone the brazen +roof of the citadel of Byrsa, which capped the sloping town. + +"Already they can see us from the watch-towers," he remarked. "Even from +afar they may know the galley of Black Magro. But which of all of them +will guess that we alone remain of all that goodly fleet which sailed +out with blare of trumpet and roll of drum but one short month ago?" + +The patrician smiled bitterly. "If it were not for our great ancestors +and for our beloved country, the Queen of the Waters," said he, "I could +find it in my heart to be glad at this destruction which has come upon +this vain and feeble generation. You have spent your life upon the seas, +Magro. You do not know of know how it has been with us on the land. But +I have seen this canker grow upon us which now leads us to our death. +I and others have gone down into the market-place to plead with the +people, and been pelted with mud for our pains. Many a time have +I pointed to Rome, and said, 'Behold these people, who bear arms +themselves, each man for his own duty and pride. How can you who hide +behind mercenaries hope to stand against them?'--a hundred times I have +said it." + +"And had they no answer?" asked the Rover. + +"Rome was far off and they could not see it, so to them it was nothing," +the old man answered. "Some thought of trade, and some of votes, and +some of profits from the State, but none would see that the State +itself, the mother of all things, was sinking to her end. So might the +bees debate who should have wax or honey when the torch was blazing +which would bring to ashes the hive and all therein. 'Are we not rulers +of the sea?' 'Was not Hannibal a great man?' Such were their cries, +living ever in the past and blind to the future. Before that sun sets +there will be tearing of hair and rending of garments; what will that +now avail us?" + +"It is some sad comfort," said Magro, "to know that what Rome holds she +cannot keep." + +"Why say you that? When we go down, she is supreme in all the world." + +"For a time, and only for a time," Magro answered, gravely. "Yet you +will smile, perchance, when I tell you how it is that I know it. There +was a wise woman who lived in that part of the Tin Islands which juts +forth into the sea, and from her lips I have heard many things, but not +one which has not come aright. Of the fall of our own country, and even +of this battle, from which we now return, she told me clearly. There is +much strange lore amongst these savage peoples in the west of the land +of Tin." + +"What said she of Rome?" + +"That she also would fall, even as we, weakened by her riches and her +factions." + +Gisco rubbed his hands. "That at least makes our own fall less bitter," +said he. "But since we have fallen, and Rome will fall, who in turn may +hope to be Queen of the Waters?" + +"That also I asked her," said Magro, "and gave her my Tyrian belt with +the golden buckle as a guerdon for her answer. But, indeed, it was too +high payment for the tale she told, which must be false if all else she +said was true. She would have it that in coining days it was her own +land, this fog-girt isle where painted savages can scarce row a wicker +coracle from point to point, which shall at last take the trident which +Carthage and Rome have dropped." + +The smile which flickered upon the old patrician's keen features died +away suddenly, and his fingers closed upon his companion's wrist. The +other had set rigid, his head advanced, his hawk eyes upon the northern +skyline. Its straight, blue horizon was broken by two low black dots. + +"Galleys!" whispered Gisco. + +The whole crew had seen them. They clustered along the starboard +bulwarks, pointing and chattering. For a moment the gloom of defeat was +lifted, and a buzz of joy ran from group to group at the thought that +they were not alone--that some one had escaped the great carnage as well +as themselves. + +"By the spirit of Baal," said Black Magro, "I could not have believed +that any could have fought clear from such a welter. Could it be young +Hamilcar in the _Africa_, or is it Beneva in the blue Syrian ship? We +three with others may form a squadron and make head against them yet. If +we hold our course, they will join us ere we round the harbour mole." + +Slowly the injured galley toiled on her way, and more swiftly the two +newcomers swept down from the north. Only a few miles off lay the +green point and the white houses which flanked the great African city. +Already, upon the headland, could be seen a dark group of waiting +townsmen. Gisco and Magro were still watching with puckered gaze the +approaching galleys, when the brown Libyan boatswain, with flashing +teeth and gleaming eyes, rushed upon the poop, his long thin arm +stabbing to the north. + +"Romans!" he cried. "Romans!" + +A hush had fallen over the great vessel. Only the wash of the water and +the measured rattle and beat of the oars broke in upon the silence. + +"By the horns of God's altar, I believe the fellow is right!" cried old +Gisco. "See how they swoop upon us like falcons. They are full-manned +and full-oared." + +"Plain wood, unpainted," said Magro. "See how it gleams yellow where the +sun strikes it." + +"And yonder thing beneath the mast. Is it not the cursed bridge they use +for boarding?" + +"So they grudge us even one," said Magro with a bitter laugh. "Not even +one galley shall return to the old sea-mother. Well, for my part, I +would as soon have it so. I am of a mind to stop the oars and await +them." + +"It is a man's thought," answered old Gisco; "but the city will need us +in the days to come. What shall it profit us to make the Roman victory +complete? Nay, Magro, let the slaves row as they never rowed before, not +for our own safety, but for the profit of the State." + +So the great red ship laboured and lurched onwards, like a weary panting +stag which seeks shelter from his pursuers, while ever swifter and ever +nearer sped the two lean fierce galleys from the north. Already +the morning sun shone upon the lines of low Roman helmets above the +bulwarks, and glistened on the silver wave where each sharp prow shot +through the still blue water. Every moment the ships drew nearer, and +the long thin scream of the Roman trumpets grew louder upon the ear. + +Upon the high bluff of Megara there stood a great concourse of the +people of Carthage who had hurried forth from the city upon the news +that the galleys were in sight. They stood now, rich and poor, effete +and plebeian, white Phoenician and dark Kabyle, gazing with breathless +interest at the spectacle before them. Some hundreds of feet beneath +them the Punic galley had drawn so close that with their naked eyes +they could see those stains of battle which told their dismal tale. The +Romans, too, were heading in such a way that it was before their very +faces that their ship was about to be cut off; and yet of all this +multitude not one could raise a hand in its defence. Some wept in +impotent grief, some cursed with flashing eyes and knotted fists, some +on their knees held up appealing hands to Baal; but neither prayer, +tears, nor curses could undo the past nor mend the present. That broken, +crawling galley meant that their fleet was gone. Those two fierce +darting ships meant that the hands of Rome were already at their throat. +Behind them would come others and others, the innumerable trained hosts +of the great Republic, long mistress of the land, now dominant also +upon the waters. In a month, two months, three at the most, their armies +would be there, and what could all the untrained multitudes of Carthage +do to stop them? + +"Nay!" cried one, more hopeful than the rest, "at least we are brave men +with arms in our hands." + +"Fool!" said another, "is it not such talk which has brought us to our +ruin? What is the brave man untrained to the brave man trained? When +you stand before the sweep and rush of a Roman legion you may learn the +difference." + +"Then let us train!" + +"Too late! A full year is needful to turn a man to a soldier. Where +will you--where will your city be within the year? Nay, there is but one +chance for us. If we give up our commerce and our colonies, if we strip +ourselves of all that made us great, then perchance the Roman conqueror +may hold his hand." + +And already the last sea-fight of Carthage was coming swiftly to an end +before them. Under their very eyes the two Roman galleys had shot in, +one on either side of the vessel of Black Magro. They had grappled with +him, and he, desperate in his despair, had cast the crooked flukes of +his anchors over their gunwales, and bound them to him in an iron +grip, whilst with hammer and crowbar he burst great holes in his own +sheathing. The last Punic galley should never be rowed into Ostia, a +sight for the holiday-makers of Rome. She would lie in her own waters. +And the fierce, dark soul of her rover captain glowed as he thought that +not alone should she sink into the depths of the mother sea. + +Too late did the Romans understand the man with whom they had to deal. +Their boarders who had flooded the Punic decks felt the planking sink +and sway beneath them. They rushed to gain their own vessels; but they, +too, were being drawn downwards, held in the dying grip of the great red +galley. Over they went and ever over. Now the deck of Magro's ship is +flush with the water, and the Romans, drawn towards it by the iron bonds +which held them, are tilted downwards, one bulwark upon the waves, one +reared high in the air. Madly they strain to cast off the death grip +of the galley. She is under the surface now, and ever swifter, with +the greater weight, the Roman ships heel after her. There is a rending +crash. The wooden side is torn out of one, and mutilated, dismembered, +she rights herself, and lies a helpless thing upon the water. But a last +yellow gleam in the blue water shows where her consort has been dragged +to her end in the iron death-grapple of her foemen. The tiger-striped +flag of Carthage has sunk beneath the swirling surface, never more to be +seen upon the face of the sea. + +For in that year a great cloud hung for seventeen days over the African +coast, a deep black cloud which was the dark shroud of the burning city. +And when the seventeen days were over, Roman ploughs were driven from +end to end of the charred ashes, and salt was scattered there as a sign +that Carthage should be no more. And far off a huddle of naked, starving +folk stood upon the distant mountains, and looked down upon the desolate +plain which had once been the fairest and richest upon earth. And they +understood too late that it is the law of heaven that the world is given +to the hardy and to the self-denying, whilst he who would escape the +duties of manhood will soon be stripped of the pride, the wealth, and +the power, which are the prizes which manhood brings. + + + + +THE CONTEST. + + +In the year of our Lord 66, the Emperor Nero, being at that time in the +twenty-ninth year of his life and the thirteenth of his reign, set sail +for Greece with the strangest company and the most singular design that +any monarch has ever entertained. With ten galleys he went forth +from Puteoli, carrying with him great stores of painted scenery and +theatrical properties, together with a number of knights and senators, +whom he feared to leave behind him at Rome, and who were all marked for +death in the course of his wanderings. In his train he took Natus, his +singing coach; Cluvius, a man with a monstrous voice, who should bawl +out his titles; and a thousand trained youths who had learned to applaud +in unison whenever their master sang or played in public. So deftly had +they been taught that each had his own role to play. Some did no more +than give forth a low deep hum of speechless appreciation. Some clapped +with enthusiasm. Some, rising from approbation into absolute frenzy, +shrieked, stamped, and beat sticks upon the benches. Some--and they +were the most effective--had learned from an Alexandrian a long droning +musical note which they all uttered together, so that it boomed over the +assembly. With the aid of these mercenary admirers, Nero had every hope, +in spite of his indifferent voice and clumsy execution, to return +to Rome, bearing with him the chaplets for song offered for free +competition by the Greek cities. As his great gilded galley with two +tiers of oars passed down the Mediterranean, the Emperor sat in his +cabin all day, his teacher by his side, rehearsing from morning to +night those compositions which he had selected, whilst every few hours +a Nubian slave massaged the Imperial throat with oil and balsam, that it +might be ready for the great ordeal which lay before it in the land of +poetry and song. His food, his drink, and his exercise were prescribed +for him as for an athlete who trains for a contest, and the twanging of +his lyre, with the strident notes of his voice, resounded continually +from the Imperial quarters. + +Now it chanced that there lived in those days a Grecian goatherd named +Policles, who tended and partly owned a great flock which grazed upon +the long flanks of the hills near Heroea, which is five miles north of +the river Alpheus, and no great distance from the famous Olympia. This +person was noted all over the countryside as a man of strange gifts and +singular character. He was a poet who had twice been crowned for his +verses, and he was a musician to whom the use and sound of an instrument +were so natural that one would more easily meet him without his staff +than his harp. Even in his lonely vigils on the winter hills he would +bear it always slung over his shoulder, and would pass the long hours +by its aid, so that it had come to be part of his very self. He was +beautiful also, swarthy and eager, with a head like Adonis, and in +strength there was no one who could compete with him. But all was +ruined by his disposition, which was so masterful that he would brook +no opposition nor contradiction. For this reason he was continually at +enmity with all his neighbours, and in his fits of temper he would spend +months at a time in his stone hut among the mountains, hearing nothing +from the world, and living only for his music and his goats. + +One spring morning, in the year of 67, Policles, with the aid of his +boy Dorus, had driven his goats over to a new pasturage which overlooked +from afar the town of Olympia. Gazing down upon it from the mountain, +the shepherd was surprised to see that a portion of the famous +amphitheatre had been roofed in, as though some performance was being +enacted. Living far from the world and from all news, Policles could +not imagine what was afoot, for he was well aware that the Grecian +games were not due for two years to come. Surely some poetic or musical +contest must be proceeding of which he had heard nothing. If so, there +would perhaps be some chance of his gaining the votes of the judges; and +in any case he loved to hear the compositions and admire the execution +of the great minstrels who assembled on such an occasion. Calling to +Dorus, therefore, he left the goats to his charge, and strode swiftly +away, his harp upon his back, to see what was going forward in the town. + +When Policles came into the suburbs, he found them deserted; but he was +still more surprised when he reached the main street to see no single +human being in the place. He hastened his steps, therefore, and as he +approached the theatre he was conscious of a low sustained hum which +announced the concourse of a huge assembly. Never in all his dreams had +he imagined any musical competition upon so vast a scale as this. There +were some soldiers clustering outside the door; but Policles pushed his +way swiftly through them, and found himself upon the outskirts of the +multitude who filled the great space formed by roofing over a portion of +the national stadium. Looking around him, Policles saw a great number of +his neighbours, whom he knew by sight, tightly packed upon the benches, +all with their eyes fixed upon the stage. He also observed that there +were soldiers round the walls, and that a considerable part of the hall +was filled by a body of youths of foreign aspect, with white gowns +and long hair. All this he perceived; but what it meant he could not +imagine. He bent over to a neighbour to ask him, but a soldier prodded +him at once with the butt end of his spear, and commanded him fiercely +to hold his peace. The man whom he had addressed, thinking that Policles +had demanded a seat, pressed closer to his neighbour, and so the +shepherd found himself sitting at the end of the bench which was nearest +to the door. Thence he concentrated himself upon the stage, on which +Metas, a well-known minstrel from Corinth and an old friend of Policles, +was singing and playing without much encouragement from the audience. +To Policles it seemed that Metas was having less than his due, so he +applauded loudly, but he was surprised to observe that the soldiers +frowned at him, and that all his neighbours regarded him with some +surprise. Being a man of strong and obstinate character, he was the more +inclined to persevere in his clapping when he perceived that the general +sentiment was against him. + +But what followed filled the shepherd poet with absolute amazement. +When Metas of Corinth had made his bow and withdrawn to half-hearted and +perfunctory applause, there appeared upon the stage, amid the wildest +enthusiasm upon the part of the audience, a most extraordinary figure. +He was a short fat man, neither old nor young, with a bull neck and a +round, heavy face, which hung in creases in front like the dewlap of an +ox. He was absurdly clad in a short blue tunic, braced at the waist +with a golden belt. His neck and part of his chest were exposed, and his +short, fat legs were bare from the buskins below to the middle of his +thighs, which was as far as his tunic extended. In his hair were two +golden wings, and the same upon his heels, after the fashion of the +god Mercury. Behind him walked a negro bearing a harp, and beside him +a richly dressed officer who bore rolls of music. This strange creature +took the harp from the hands of the attendant, and advanced to the front +of the stage, whence he bowed and smiled to the cheering audience. "This +is some foppish singer from Athens," thought Policles to himself, but +at the same time he understood that only a great master of song could +receive such a reception from a Greek audience. This was evidently some +wonderful performer whose reputation had preceded him. Policles settled +down, therefore, and prepared to give his soul up to the music. + +The blue-clad player struck several chords upon his lyre, and then burst +suddenly out into the "Ode of Niobe." Policles sat straight up on his +bench and gazed at the stage in amazement. The tune demanded a rapid +transition from a low note to a high, and had been purposely chosen for +this reason. The low note was a grunting, a rumble, the deep discordant +growling of an ill-conditioned dog. Then suddenly the singer threw up +his face, straightened his tubby figure, rose upon his tiptoes, and +with wagging head and scarlet cheeks emitted such a howl as the same dog +might have given had his growl been checked by a kick from his master. +All the while the lyre twanged and thrummed, sometimes in front of and +sometimes behind the voice of the singer. But what amazed Policles most +of all was the effect of this performance upon the audience. Every Greek +was a trained critic, and as unsparing in his hisses as he was lavish +in his applause. Many a singer far better than this absurd fop had been +driven amid execration and abuse from the platform. But now, as the +man stopped and wiped the abundant sweat from his fat face, the whole +assembly burst into a delirium of appreciation. The shepherd held his +hands to his bursting head, and felt that his reason must be leaving +him. It was surely a dreadful musical nightmare, and he would wake soon +and laugh at the remembrance. But no; the figures were real, the faces +were those of his neighbours, the cheers which resounded in his ears +were indeed from an audience which filled the theatre of Olympia. +The whole chorus was in full blast, the hummers humming, the shouters +bellowing, the tappers hard at work upon the benches, while every now +and then came a musical cyclone of "Incomparable! Divine!" from the +trained phalanx who intoned their applause, their united voices sweeping +over the tumult as the drone of the wind dominates the roar of the sea. +It was madness--insufferable madness! If this were allowed to pass, +there was an end of all musical justice in Greece. Policles' conscience +would not permit him to be still. Standing upon his bench with waving +hands and upraised voice, he protested with all the strength of his +lungs against the mad judgment of the audience. + +At first, amid the tumult, his action was hardly noticed. His voice was +drowned in the universal roar which broke out afresh at each bow and +smirk from the fatuous musician. But gradually the folk round Policles +ceased clapping, and stared at him in astonishment. The silence grew in +ever widening circles, until the whole great assembly sat mute, staring +at this wild and magnificent creature who was storming at them from his +perch near the door. + +"Fools!" he cried. "What are you clapping at? What are you cheering? Is +this what you call music? Is this cat-calling to earn an Olympian prize? +The fellow has not a note in his voice. You are either deaf or mad, and +I for one cry shame upon you for your folly." + +Soldiers ran to pull him down, and the whole audience was in confusion, +some of the bolder cheering the sentiments of the shepherd, and others +crying that he should be cast out of the building. Meanwhile the +successful singer having handed his lyre to his negro attendant, was +inquiring from those around him on the stage as to the cause of the +uproar. Finally a herald with an enormously powerful voice stepped +forward to the front and proclaimed that if the foolish person at the +back of the hall, who appeared to differ from the opinion of the rest +of the audience, would come forward upon the platform, he might, if he +dared, exhibit his own powers, and see if he could outdo the admirable +and wonderful exhibition which they had just had the privilege of +hearing. + +Policles sprang readily to his feet at the challenge, and the great +company making way for him to pass, he found himself a minute later +standing in his unkempt garb, with his frayed and weather-beaten harp in +his hand, before the expectant crowd. He stood for a moment tightening +a string here and slackening another there until his chords rang +true. Then, amid a murmur of laughter and jeers from the Roman benches +immediately before him, he began to sing. + +He had prepared no composition, but he had trained himself to improvise, +singing out of his heart for the joy of the music. He told of the land +of Elis, beloved of Jupiter, in which they were gathered that day, of +the great bare mountain slopes, of the swift shadows of the clouds, of +the winding blue river, of the keen air of the uplands, of the chill of +the evenings, and the beauties of earth and sky. It was all simple and +childlike, but it went to the hearts of the Olympians, for it spoke +of the land which they knew and loved. Yet when he at last dropped his +hand, few of them dared to applaud, and their feeble voices were drowned +by a storm of hisses and groans from his opponents. He shrank back in +horror from so unusual a reception, and in an instant his blue-clad +rival was in his place. If he had sung badly before, his performance +now was inconceivable. His screams, his grunts, his discords, and harsh +jarring cacophanies were an outrage to the very name of music. And yet +every time that he paused for breath or to wipe his streaming forehead a +fresh thunder of applause came rolling back from the audience. Policles +sank his face in his hands and prayed that he might not be insane. +Then, when the dreadful performance ceased, and the uproar of admiration +showed that the crown was certainly awarded to this impostor, a horror +of the audience, a hatred of this race of fools, and a craving for the +peace and silence of the pastures mastered every feeling in his mind. He +dashed through the mass of people waiting at the wings, and emerged +in the open air. His old rival and friend Metas of Corinth was waiting +there with an anxious face. + +"Quick, Policles, quick!" he cried. "My pony is tethered behind yonder +grove. A grey he is, with red trappings. Get you gone as hard as hoof +will bear you, for if you are taken you will have no easy death." + +"No easy death! What mean you, Metas? Who is the fellow?" + +"Great Jupiter! did you not know? Where have you lived? It is Nero +the Emperor! Never would he pardon what you have said about his voice. +Quick, man, quick, or the guards will be at your heels!" + +An hour later the shepherd was well on his way to his mountain home, and +about the same time the Emperor, having received the Chaplet of Olympia +for the incomparable excellence of his performance, was making inquiries +with a frowning brow as to who the insolent person might be who had +dared to utter such contemptuous criticisms. + +"Bring him to me here this instant," said he, "and let Marcus with his +knife and branding-iron be in attendance." + +"If it please you, great Caesar," said Arsenius Platus, the officer of +attendance, "the man cannot be found, and there are some very strange +rumours flying about." + +"Rumours!" cried the angry Nero. "What do you mean, Arsenius? I tell you +that the fellow was an ignorant upstart, with the bearing of a boor and +the voice of a peacock. I tell you also that there are a good many who +are as guilty as he among the people, for I heard them with my own ears +raise cheers for him when he had sung his ridiculous ode. I have half +a mind to burn their town about their ears so that they may remember my +visit." + +"It is not to be wondered at if he won their votes, Caesar," said the +soldier, "for from what I hear it would have been no disgrace had you, +even you, been conquered in this conquest." + +"I conquered! You are mad, Arsenius. What do you mean?" + +"None know him, great Caesar! He came from the mountains, and he +disappeared into the mountains. You marked the wildness and strange +beauty of his face. It is whispered that for once the great god Pan has +condescended to measure himself against a mortal." + +The cloud cleared from Nero's brow. "Of course, Arsenius! You are right! +No man would have dared to brave me so. What a story for Rome! Let +the messenger leave this very night, Arsenius, to tell them how their +Emperor has upheld their honour in Olympia this day." + + + + +THROUGH THE VEIL. + + +He was a great shock-headed, freckle-faced Borderer, the lineal +descendant of a cattle-thieving clan in Liddesdale. In spite of his +ancestry he was as solid and sober a citizen as one would wish to see, a +town councillor of Melrose, an elder of the Church, and the chairman of +the local branch of the Young Men's Christian Association. Brown was his +name--and you saw it printed up as "Brown and Handiside" over the +great grocery stores in the High Street. His wife, Maggie Brown, was an +Armstrong before her marriage, and came from an old farming stock in +the wilds of Teviothead. She was small, swarthy, and dark-eyed, with a +strangely nervous temperament for a Scotch woman. No greater contrast +could be found than the big tawny man and the dark little woman; but +both were of the soil as far back as any memory could extend. + +One day--it was the first anniversary of their wedding--they had driven +over together to see the excavations of the Roman Fort at Newstead. It +was not a particularly picturesque spot. From the northern bank of the +Tweed, just where the river forms a loop, there extends a gentle slope +of arable land. Across it run the trenches of the excavators, with here +and there an exposure of old stonework to show the foundations of the +ancient walls. It had been a huge place, for the camp was fifty acres +in extent, and the fort fifteen. However, it was all made easy for them +since Mr. Brown knew the farmer to whom the land belonged. Under his +guidance they spent a long summer evening inspecting the trenches, the +pits, the ramparts, and all the strange variety of objects which were +waiting to be transported to the Edinburgh Museum of Antiquities. The +buckle of a woman's belt had been dug up that very day, and the farmer +was discoursing upon it when his eyes fell upon Mrs. Brown's face. + +"Your good leddy's tired," said he. "Maybe you'd best rest a wee before +we gang further." + +Brown looked at his wife. She was certainly very pale, and her dark eyes +were bright and wild. + +"What is it, Maggie? I've wearied you. I'm thinkin' it's time we went +back." + +"No, no, John, let us go on. It's wonderful! It's like a dreamland +place. It all seems so close and so near to me. How long were the Romans +here, Mr. Cunningham?" + +"A fair time, mam. If you saw the kitchen midden-pits you would guess it +took a long time to fill them." + +"And why did they leave?" + +"Well, mam, by all accounts they left because they had to. The folk +round could thole them no longer, so they just up and burned the fort +aboot their lugs. You can see the fire marks on the stanes." + +The woman gave a quick little shudder. "A wild night--a fearsome night," +said she. "The sky must have been red that night--and these grey stones, +they may have been red also." + +"Aye, I think they were red," said her husband. "It's a queer thing, +Maggie, and it may be your words that have done it; but I seem to see +that business aboot as clear as ever I saw anything in my life. The +light shone on the water." + +"Aye, the light shone on the water. And the smoke gripped you by the +throat. And all the savages were yelling." + +The old farmer began to laugh. "The leddy will be writin' a story aboot +the old fort," said he. "I've shown many a one over it, but I never +heard it put so clear afore. Some folk have the gift." + +They had strolled along the edge of the foss, and a pit yawned upon the +right of them. + +"That pit was fourteen foot deep," said the farmer. "What d'ye think we +dug oot from the bottom o't? Weel, it was just the skeleton of a man wi' +a spear by his side. I'm thinkin' he was grippin' it when he died. Now, +how cam' a man wi' a spear doon a hole fourteen foot deep? He wasna' +buried there, for they aye burned their dead. What make ye o' that, +mam?" + +"He sprang doon to get clear of the savages," said the woman. + +"Weel, it's likely enough, and a' the professors from Edinburgh couldna +gie a better reason. I wish you were aye here, mam, to answer a' oor +difficulties sae readily. Now, here's the altar that we foond last week. +There's an inscreeption. They tell me it's Latin, and it means that the +men o' this fort give thanks to God for their safety." + +They examined the old worn stone. There was a large deeply-cut "VV" upon +the top of it. "What does 'VV' stand for?" asked Brown. + +"Naebody kens," the guide answered. + +"_Valeria Victrix_," said the lady softly. Her face was paler than ever, +her eyes far away, as one who peers down the dim aisles of overarching +centuries. + +"What's that?" asked her husband sharply. + +She started as one who wakes from sleep. "What were we talking about?" +she asked. + +"About this 'VV' upon the stone." + +"No doubt it was just the name of the Legion which put the altar up." + +"Aye, but you gave some special name." + +"Did I? How absurd! How should I ken what the name was?" + +"You said something--'_Victrix_,' I think." + +"I suppose I was guessing. It gives me the queerest feeling, this place, +as if I were not myself, but someone else." + +"Aye, it's an uncanny place," said her husband, looking round with an +expression almost of fear in his bold grey eyes. "I feel it mysel'. I +think we'll just be wishin' you good evenin', Mr. Cunningham, and get +back to Melrose before the dark sets in." + +Neither of them could shake off the strange impression which had been +left upon them by their visit to the excavations. It was as if some +miasma had risen from those damp trenches and passed into their blood. +All the evening they were silent and thoughtful, but such remarks as +they did make showed that the same subject was in the minds of each. +Brown had a restless night, in which he dreamed a strange connected +dream, so vivid that he woke sweating and shivering like a frightened +horse. He tried to convey it all to his wife as they sat together at +breakfast in the morning. + +"It was the clearest thing, Maggie," said he. "Nothing that has ever +come to me in my waking life has been more clear than that. I feel as if +these hands were sticky with blood." + +"Tell me of it--tell me slow," said she. + +"When it began, I was oot on a braeside. I was laying flat on the +ground. It was rough, and there were clumps of heather. All round me +was just darkness, but I could hear the rustle and the breathin' of men. +There seemed a great multitude on every side of me, but I could see +no one. There was a low chink of steel sometimes, and then a number of +voices would whisper 'Hush!' I had a ragged club in my hand, and it had +spikes o' iron near the end of it. My heart was beatin' quickly, and I +felt that a moment of great danger and excitement was at hand. Once I +dropped my club, and again from all round me the voices in the darkness +cried, 'Hush!' I put oot my hand, and it touched the foot of another +man lying in front of me. There was some one at my very elbow on either +side. But they said nothin'. + +"Then we all began to move. The whole braeside seemed to be crawlin' +downwards. There was a river at the bottom and a high-arched wooden +bridge. Beyond the bridge were many lights--torches on a wall. The +creepin' men all flowed towards the bridge. There had been no sound +of any kind, just a velvet stillness. And then there was a cry in the +darkness, the cry of a man who has been stabbed suddenly to the hairt. +That one cry swelled out for a moment, and then the roar of a thoosand +furious voices. I was runnin'. Every one was runnin'. A bright red light +shone out, and the river was a scarlet streak. I could see my companions +now. They were more like devils than men, wild figures clad in skins, +with their hair and beards streamin'. They were all mad with rage, +jumpin' as they ran, their mouths open, their arms wavin', the red light +beatin' on their faces. I ran, too, and yelled out curses like the rest. +Then I heard a great cracklin' of wood, and I knew that the palisades +were doon. There was a loud whistlin' in my ears, and I was aware that +arrows were flyin' past me. I got to the bottom of a dyke, and I saw a +hand stretched doon from above. I took it, and was dragged to the top. +We looked doon, and there were silver men beneath us holdin' up their +spears. Some of our folk sprang on to the spears. Then we others +followed, and we killed the soldiers before they could draw the spears +oot again. They shouted loud in some foreign tongue, but no mercy was +shown them. We went ower them like a wave, and trampled them doon into +the mud, for they were few, and there was no end to our numbers. + +"I found myself among buildings, and one of them was on fire. I saw the +flames spoutin' through the roof. I ran on, and then I was alone among +the buildings. Some one ran across in front o' me. It was a woman. I +caught her by the arm, and I took her chin and turned her face so as the +light of the fire would strike it. Whom think you that it was, Maggie?" + +His wife moistened her dry lips. "It was I," she said. + +He looked at her in surprise. "That's a good guess," said he. "Yes, +it was just you. Not merely like you, you understand. It was you--you +yourself. I saw the same soul in your frightened eyes. You looked white +and bonny and wonderful in the firelight. I had just one thought in my +head--to get you awa' with me; to keep you all to mysel' in my own home +somewhere beyond the hills. You clawed at my face with your nails. I +heaved you over my shoulder, and I tried to find a way oot of the light +of the burning hoose and back into the darkness. + +"Then came the thing that I mind best of all. You're ill, Maggie. Shall +I stop? My God! You nave the very look on your face that you had last +night in my dream. You screamed. He came runnin' in the firelight. His +head was bare; his hair was black and curled; he had a naked sword in +his hand, short and broad, little more than a dagger. He stabbed at me, +but he tripped and fell. I held you with one hand, and with the other--" + +His wife had sprung to her feet with writhing features. + +"Marcus!" she cried. "My beautiful Marcus! Oh, you brute! you brute! you +brute!" There was a clatter of tea-cups as she fell forward senseless +upon the table. + +They never talk about that strange isolated incident in their married +life. For an instant the curtain of the past had swung aside, and some +strange glimpse of a forgotten life had come to them. But it closed +down, never to open again. They live their narrow round--he in his shop, +she in her household--and yet new and wider horizons have vaguely formed +themselves around them since that summer evening by the crumbling Roman +fort. + + + + +AN ICONOCLAST. + + +It was daybreak of a March morning in the year of Christ 92. Outside +the long Semita Alta was already thronged with people, with buyers and +sellers, callers and strollers, for the Romans were so early-rising a +people that many a Patrician preferred to see his clients at six in the +morning. Such was the good republican tradition, still upheld by the +more conservative; but with more modern habits of luxury, a night of +pleasure and banqueting was no uncommon thing. Thus one, who had learned +the new and yet adhered to the old, might find his hours overlap, and +without so much as a pretence of sleep come straight from his night of +debauch into his day of business, turning with heavy wits and an aching +head to that round of formal duties which consumed the life of a Roman +gentleman. + +So it was with Emilius Flaccus that March morning. He and his fellow +senator, Caius Balbus, had passed the night in one of those gloomy +drinking bouts to which the Emperor Domitian summoned his chosen friends +at the high palace on the Palatine. Now, having reached the portals of +the house of Flaccus, they stood together under the pomegranate-fringed +portico which fronted the peristyle and, confident in each other's tried +discretion, made up by the freedom of their criticism for their long +self-suppression of that melancholy feast. + +"If he would but feed his guests," said Balbus, a little red-faced, +choleric nobleman with yellow-shot angry eyes. "What had we? Upon my +life, I have forgotten. Plovers' eggs, a mess of fish, some bird or +other, and then his eternal apples." + +"Of which," said Flaccus, "he ate only the apples. Do him the justice to +confess that he takes even less than he gives. At least they cannot say +of him as of Vitellius, that his teeth beggared the empire." + +"No, nor his thirst either, great as it is. That fiery Sabine wine of +his could be had for a few sesterces the amphora. It is the common drink +of the carters at every wine-house on the country roads. I longed for +a glass of my own rich Falernian or the mellow Coan that was bottled in +the year that Titus took Jerusalem. Is it even now too late? Could we +not wash this rasping stuff from our palates?" + +"Nay, better come in with me now and take a bitter draught ere you go +upon your way. My Greek physician Stephanos has a rare prescription for +a morning head. What! Your clients await you? Well, I will see you later +at the Senate house." + +The Patrician had entered his atrium, bright with rare flowers, and +melodious with strange singing birds. At the jaws of the hall, true to +his morning duties, stood Lebs, the little Nubian slave, with snow-white +tunic and turban, a salver of glasses in one hand, whilst in the other +he held a flask of a thin lemon-tinted liquid. The master of the house +filled up a bitter aromatic bumper, and was about to drink it off, when +his hand was arrested by a sudden perception that something was much +amiss in his household. It was to be read all around him--in the +frightened eyes of the black boy, in the agitated face of the keeper of +the atrium, in the gloom and silence of the little knot of ordinarii, +the procurator or major-domo at their head, who had assembled to greet +their master. Stephanos the physician, Cleios the Alexandrine reader, +Promus the steward each turned his head away to avoid his master's +questioning gaze. + +"What in the name of Pluto is the matter with you all?" cried the amazed +senator, whose night of potations had left him in no mood for patience. +"Why do you stand moping there? Stephanos, Vacculus--is anything amiss? +Here, Promus, you are the head of my household. What is it, then? Why do +you turn your eyes away from me?" + +The burly steward, whose fat face was haggard and mottled with anxiety, +laid his hand upon the sleeve of the domestic beside him. + +"Sergius is responsible for the atrium, my lord. It is for him to tell +you the terrible thing that has befallen in your absence." + +"Nay, it was Datus who did it. Bring him in, and let him explain it +himself," said Sergius in a sulky voice. + +The patience of the Patrician was at an end. "Speak this instant, +you rascal!" he shouted angrily. "Another minute, and I will have you +dragged to the ergastulum, where, with your feet in the stocks and the +gyves round your wrists, you may learn quicker obedience. Speak, I say, +and without delay." + +"It is the Venus," the man stammered; "the Greek Venus of Praxiteles." + +The senator gave a cry of apprehension and rushed to the corner of the +atrium, where a little shrine, curtained off by silken drapery, held the +precious statue, the greatest art treasure of his collection--perhaps +of the whole world. He tore the hangings aside and stood in speechless +anger before the outraged goddess. The red perfumed lamp which always +burned before her had been spilled and broken; her altar fire had +been quenched, her chaplet had been dashed aside. But worst of +all--insufferable sacrilege!--her own beautiful nude body of glistening +Pantelic marble, as white and fair as when the inspired Greek had hewed +it out five hundred years before, had been most brutally mishandled. +Three fingers of the gracious outstretched hand had been struck off, and +lay upon the pedestal beside her. Above her delicate breast a dark mark +showed, where a blow had disfigured the marble. Emilius Flaccus, the +most delicate and judicious connoisseur in Rome, stood gasping and +croaking, his hand to his throat, as he gazed at his disfigured +masterpiece. Then he turned upon his slaves, his fury in his convulsed +face; but, to his amazement, they were not looking at him, but had +all turned in attitudes of deep respect towards the opening of the +peristyle. As he faced round and saw who had just entered his house, +his own rage fell away from him in an instant, and his manner became as +humble as that of his servants. + +The newcomer was a man forty-three years of age, clean shaven, with a +massive head, large engorged eyes, a small clear-cut nose, and the +full bull neck which was the especial mark of his breed. He had entered +through the peristyle with a swaggering, rolling gait, as one who walks +upon his own ground, and now he stood, his hands upon his hips, looking +round him at the bowing slaves, and finally at their master, with a +half-humorous expression upon his flushed and brutal face. + +"Why, Emilius," said he, "I had understood that your household was the +best-ordered in Rome. What is amiss with you this morning?" + +"Nothing could be amiss with us now that Caesar has deigned to come +under my roof," said the courtier. "This is indeed a most glad surprise +which you have prepared for me." + +"It was an afterthought," said Domitian. "When you and the others had +left me, I was in no mood for sleep, and so it came into my mind that +I would have a breath of morning air by coming down to you, and seeing +this Grecian Venus of yours, about which you discoursed so eloquently +between the cups. But, indeed, by your appearance and that of your +servants, I should judge that my visit was an ill-timed one." + +"Nay, dear master; say not so. But, indeed, it is truth that I was in +trouble at the moment of your welcome entrance, and this trouble was, as +the Fates have willed it, brought forth by that very statue in which you +have been graciously pleased to show your interest. There it stands, and +you can see for yourself how rudely it has been mishandled." + +"By Pluto and all the nether gods, if it were mine some of you should +feed the lampreys," said the Emperor, looking round with his fierce eyes +at the shrinking slaves. "You were always overmerciful, Emilius. It is +the common talk that your catenoe are rusted for want of use. But surely +this is beyond all bounds. Let me see how you handle the matter. Whom do +you hold responsible?" + +"The slave Sergius is responsible, since it is his place to tend the +atrium," said Flaccus. "Stand forward, Sergius. What have you to say?" + +The trembling slave advanced to his master. "If it please you, sir, the +mischief has been done by Datus the Christian." + +"Datus! Who is he?" + +"The matulator, the scavenger, my lord. I did not know that he belonged +to these horrible people, or I should not have admitted him. He came +with his broom to brush out the litter of the birds. His eyes fell upon +the Venus, and in an instant he had rushed upon her and struck her two +blows with his wooden besom. Then we fell upon him and dragged him away. +But alas! alas! it was too late, for already the wretch had dashed off +the fingers of the goddess." + +The Emperor smiled grimly, while the Patrician's thin face grew pale +with anger. + +"Where is the fellow?" he asked. + +"In the ergastulum, your honour, with the furca on his neck." + +"Bring him hither and summon the household." + +A few minutes later the whole back of the atrium was thronged by the +motley crowd who ministered to the household needs of a great Roman +nobleman. There was the arcarius, or account keeper, with his stylum +behind his ear; the sleek praegustator, who sampled all foods, so as to +stand between his master and poison, and beside him his predecessor, now +a half-witted idiot through the interception twenty years before of a +datura draught from Canidia; the cellarman, summoned from amongst his +amphorae; the cook, with his basting-ladle in his hand; the pompous +nomenclator, who ushered the guests; the cubicularius, who saw to +their accommodation; the silentiarius, who kept order in the house; the +structor, who set forth the tables; the carptor, who carved the food; +the cinerarius, who lit the fires--these and many more, half-curious, +half-terrified, came to the judging of Datus. Behind them a chattering, +giggling swarm of Lalages, Marias, Cerusas, and Amaryllides, from the +laundries and the spinning-rooms, stood upon their tiptoes and extended +their pretty wondering faces over the shoulders of the men. Through this +crowd came two stout varlets leading the culprit between them. He was a +small, dark, rough-headed man, with an unkempt beard and wild eyes which +shone, brightly with strong inward emotion. His hands were bound behind +him, and over his neck was the heavy wooden collar or furca which was +placed upon refractory slaves. A smear of blood across his cheek showed +that he had not come uninjured from the preceding scuffle. + +"Are you Datus the scavenger?" asked the Patrician. + +The man drew himself up proudly. "Yes," said he, "I am Datus." + +"Did you do this injury to my statue?" + +"Yes, I did." + +There was an uncompromising boldness in the man's reply which compelled +respect. The wrath of his master became tinged with interest. + +"Why did you do this?" he asked. + +"Because it was my duty." + +"Why, then, was it your duty to destroy your master's property?" + +"Because I am a Christian." His eyes blazed suddenly out of his dark +face. "Because there is no God but the one eternal, and all else are +sticks and stones. What has this naked harlot to do with Him to whom the +great firmament is but a garment and the earth a footstool? It was in +His service that I have broken your statue." + +Domitian looked with a smile at the Patrician. "You will make nothing of +him," said he. "They speak even so when they stand before the lions in +the arena. As to argument, not all the philosophers of Rome can break +them down. Before my very face they refuse to sacrifice in my honour. +Never were such impossible people to deal with. I should take a short +way with him if I were you." + +"What would Caesar advise?" + +"There are the games this afternoon. I am showing the new +hunting-leopard which King Juba has sent from Numidia. This slave +may give us some sport when he finds the hungry beast sniffing at his +heels." + +The Patrician considered for a moment. He had always been a father to +his servants. It was hateful to him to think of any injury befalling +them. Perhaps even now, if this strange fanatic would show his sorrow +for what he had done, it might be possible to spare him. At least it was +worth trying. + +"Your offence deserves death," he said. "What reasons can you give why +it should not befall you, since you have injured this statue, which is +worth your own price a hundred times over?" + +The slave looked steadfastly at his master. "I do not fear death," he +said. "My sister Candida died in the arena, and I am ready to do the +same. It is true that I have injured your statue, but I am able to find +you something of far greater value in exchange. I will give you the +truth and the gospel in exchange for your broken idol." + +The Emperor laughed. "You will do nothing with him, Emilius," he said. +"I know his breed of old. He is ready to die; he says so himself. Why +save him, then?" + +But the Patrician still hesitated. He would make a last effort. + +"Throw off his bonds," he said to the guards. "Now take the furca off +his neck. So! Now, Datus, I have released you to show you that I trust +you. I have no wish to do you any hurt if you will but acknowledge your +error, and so set a better example to my household here assembled." + +"How, then, shall I acknowledge my error?" the slave asked. + +"Bow your head before the goddess, and entreat her forgiveness for +the violence you have done her. Then perhaps you may gain my pardon as +well." + +"Put me, then, before her," said the Christian. + +Emilius Flaccus looked triumphantly at Domitian. By kindness and tact he +was effecting that which the Emperor had failed to do by violence. Datus +walked in front of the mutilated Venus. Then with a sudden spring he +tore the baton out of the hand of one of his guardians, leaped upon the +pedestal, and showered his blows upon the lovely marble woman. With +a crack and a dull thud her right arm dropped to the ground. Another +fierce blow and the left had followed. Flaccus danced and screamed +with horror, while his servants dragged the raving iconoclast from his +impassive victim. Domitian's brutal laughter echoed through the hall. + +"Well, friend, what think you now?" he cried. "Are you wiser than your +Emperor? Can you indeed tame your Christian with kindness?" + +Emilius Flaccus wiped the sweat from his brow. "He is yours, great +Caesar. Do with him as you will." + +"Let him be at the gladiators' entrance of the circus an hour before +the games begin," said the Emperor. "Now, Emilius, the night has been a +merry one. My Ligurian galley waits by the river quay. Come, cool your +head with a spin to Ostia ere the business of State calls you to the +Senate." + + + + +GIANT MAXIMIN. + + + + +I THE COMING OF MAXIMIN + + +Many are the strange vicissitudes of history. Greatness has often sunk +to the dust, and has tempered itself to its new surrounding. Smallness +has risen aloft, has flourished for a time, and then has sunk once more. +Rich monarchs have become poor monks, brave conquerors have lost their +manhood, eunuchs and women have overthrown armies and kingdoms. Surely +there is no situation which the mind of man can invent which has not +taken shape and been played out upon the world stage. But of all the +strange careers and of all the wondrous happenings, stranger than +Charles in his monastery, or Justin on his throne, there stands the case +of Giant Maximin, what he attained, and how he attained it. Let me tell +the sober facts of history, tinged only by that colouring to which the +more austere historians could not condescend. It is a record as well as +a story. + +In the heart of Thrace some ten miles north of the Rhodope mountains, +there is a valley which is named Harpessus, after the stream which runs +down it. Through this valley lies the main road from the east to the +west, and along the road, returning from an expedition against the +Alani, there marched, upon the fifth day of the month of June in +the year 210, a small but compact Roman army. It consisted of three +legions--the Jovian, the Cappadocian, and the men of Hercules. Ten +turmae of Gallic cavalry led the van, whilst the rear was covered by +a regiment of Batavian Horse Guards, the immediate attendants of the +Emperor Septimus Severus who had conducted the campaign in person. The +peasants who lined the low hills which fringed the valley looked with +indifference upon the long files of dusty, heavily-burdened infantry, +but they broke into murmurs of delight at the gold-faced cuirasses +and high brazen horse-hair helmets of the guardsmen, applauding their +stalwart figures, their martial bearing, and the stately black chargers +which they rode. A soldier might know that it was the little weary men +with their short swords, their heavy pikes over their shoulders, and +their square shields slung upon their backs, who were the real terror of +the enemies of the Empire, but to the eyes of the wondering Thracians it +was this troop of glittering Apollos who bore Rome's victory upon their +banners, and upheld the throne of the purple-togaed prince who rode +before them. + +Among the scattered groups of peasants who looked on from a respectful +distance at this military pageant, there were two men who attracted +much attention from those who stood immediately around them. The one was +commonplace enough--a little grey-headed man, with uncouth dress and +a frame which was bent and warped by a long life of arduous toil, +goat-driving and wood-chopping among the mountains. It was the +appearance of his youthful companion which had drawn the amazed +observation of the bystanders. In stature he was such a giant as is +seen but once or twice in each generation of mankind. Eight feet and two +inches was his measure from his sandalled sole to the topmost curls of +his tangled hair. Yet for all his mighty stature there was nothing heavy +or clumsy in the man. His huge shoulders bore no redundant flesh, and +his figure was straight and hard and supple as a young pine tree. A +frayed suit of brown leather clung close to his giant body, and a cloak +of undressed sheep-skin was slung from his shoulder. His bold blue +eyes, shock of yellow hair and fair skin showed that he was of Gothic or +northern blood, and the amazed expression upon his broad frank face as +he stared at the passing troops told of a simple and uneventful life in +some back valley of the Macedonian mountains. + +"I fear your mother was right when she advised that we keep you at +home," said the old man anxiously. "Tree-cutting and wood-carrying will +seem but dull work after such a sight as this." + +"When I see mother next it will be to put a golden torque round her +neck," said the young giant. "And you, daddy; I will fill your leather +pouch with gold pieces before I have done." + +The old man looked at his son with startled eyes. "You would not leave +us, Theckla! What could we do without you?" + +"My place is down among yonder men," said the young man. "I was not born +to drive goats and carry logs, but to sell this manhood of mine in the +best market. There is my market in the Emperor's own Guard. Say nothing, +daddy, for my mind is set, and if you weep now it will be to laugh +hereafter. I will to great Rome with the soldiers." + +The daily march of the heavily laden Roman legionary was fixed at twenty +miles; but on this afternoon, though only half the distance had been +accomplished, the silver trumpets blared out their welcome news that a +camp was to be formed. As the men broke their ranks, the reason of their +light march was announced by the decurions. It was the birthday of Geta, +the younger son of the Emperor, and in his honour there would be games +and a double ration of wine. But the iron discipline of the Roman +army required that under all circumstances certain duties should be +performed, and foremost among them that the camp should be made secure. +Laying down their arms in the order of their ranks, the soldiers seized +their spades and axes, and worked rapidly and joyously until sloping +vallum and gaping fossa girdled them round, and gave them safe refuge +against a night attack. Then in noisy, laughing, gesticulating crowds +they gathered in their thousands round the grassy arena where the sports +were to be held. A long green hillside sloped down to a level plain, and +on this gentle incline the army lay watching the strife of the chosen +athletes who contended before them. They stretched themselves in the +glare of the sunshine, their heavy tunics thrown off, and their naked +limbs sprawling, wine-cups an baskets of fruit and cakes circling +amongst them, enjoying rest and peace as only those can to whom it comes +so rarely. + +The five-mile race was over, and had been won as usual by Decurion +Brennus, the crack long-distance champion of the Herculians. Amid the +yells of the Jovians, Capellus of the corps had carried off both the +long and the high jump. Big Brebix the Gaul had out-thrown the long +guardsman Serenus with the fifty pound stone. Now, as the sun sank +towards the western ridge, and turned the Harpessus to a riband of gold, +they had come to the final of the wrestling, where the pliant Greek, +whose name is lost in the nickname of "Python," was tried out against +the bull-necked Lictor of the military police, a hairy Hercules, whose +heavy hand had in the way of duty oppressed many of the spectators. + +As the two men, stripped save for their loin-cloths, approached the +wrestling-ring, cheers and counter-cheers burst from their adherents, +some favouring the Lictor for his Roman blood, some the Greek from their +own private grudge. And then, of a sudden, the cheering died, heads were +turned towards the slope away from the arena, men stood up and peered +and pointed, until finally, in a strange hush, the whole great assembly +had forgotten the athletes, and were watching a single man walking +swiftly towards them down the green curve of the hill. This huge +solitary figure, with the oaken club in his hand, the shaggy fleece +flapping from his great shoulders, and the setting sun gleaming upon a +halo of golden hair, might have been the tutelary god of the fierce and +barren mountains from which he had issued. Even the Emperor rose from +his chair and gazed with open-eyed amazement at the extraordinary being +who approached him. + +The man, whom we already know as Theckla the Thracian, paid no heed +to the attention which he had aroused, but strode onwards, stepping as +lightly as a deer, until he reached the fringe of the soldiers. Amid +their open ranks he picked his way, sprang over the ropes which guarded +the arena, and advanced towards the Emperor, until a spear at his breast +warned him that he must go no nearer. Then he sunk upon his right knee +and called out some words in the Gothic speech. + +"Great Jupiter! Whoever saw such a body of a man!" cried the Emperor. +"What says he? What is amiss with the fellow? Whence comes he, and what +is his name?" + +An interpreter translated the Barbarian's answer. "He says, great +Caesar, that he is of good blood, and sprung by a Gothic father from a +woman of the Alani. He says that his name is Theckla, and that he would +fain carry a sword in Caesar's service." + +The Emperor smiled. "Some post could surely be found for such a man, +were it but as janitor at the Palatine Palace," said he to one of the +Prefects. "I would fain see him walk even as he is through the forum. +He would turn the heads of half the women in Rome. Talk to him, Crassus. +You know his speech." + +The Roman officer turned to the giant. "Caesar says that you are to come +with him, and he will make you the servant at his door." + +The Barbarian rose, and his fair cheeks flushed with resentment. + +"I will serve Caesar as a soldier," said he, "but I will be +house-servant to no man-not even to him. If Caesar would see what manner +of man I am, let him put one of his guardsmen up against me." + +"By the shade of Milo this is a bold fellow!" cried the Emperor. "How +say you, Crassus? Shall he make good his words?" + +"By your leave, Caesar," said the blunt soldier, "good swordsmen are too +rare in these days that we should let them slay each other for sport. +Perhaps if the Barbarian would wrestle a fall--" + +"Excellent!" cried the Emperor. "Here is the Python, and here Varus the +Lictor, each stripped for the bout. Have a look at them, Barbarian, and +see which you would choose. What does he say? He would take them both? +Nay then he is either the king of wrestlers or the king of boasters, +and we shall soon see which. Let him have his way, and he has himself to +thank if he comes out with a broken neck." + +There was some laughter when the peasant tossed his sheep-skin mantle to +the ground and, without troubling to remove his leathern tunic, advanced +towards the two wrestlers; but it became uproarious when with a quick +spring he seized the Greek under one arm and the Roman under the other, +holding them as in a vice. Then with a terrific effort he tore them both +from the ground, carried them writhing and kicking round the arena, and +finally walking up to the Emperor's throne, threw his two athletes down +in front of him. Then, bowing to Caesar, the huge Barbarian withdrew, +and laid his great bulk down among the ranks of the applauding soldiers, +whence he watched with stolid unconcern the conclusion of the sports. + +It was still daylight, when the last event had been decided, and the +soldiers returned to the camp. The Emperor Severus had ordered his +horse, and in the company of Crassus, his favourite prefect, rode down +the winding pathway which skirts the Harpessus, chatting over the future +dispersal of the army. They had ridden for some miles when Severus, +glancing behind him, was surprised to see a huge figure which trotted +lightly along at the very heels of his horse. + +"Surely this is Mercury as well as Hercules that we have found among +the Thracian mountains," said he with a smile. "Let us see how soon our +Syrian horses can out-distance him." + +The two Romans broke into a gallop, and did not draw rein until a good +mile had been covered at the full pace of their splendid chargers. Then +they turned and looked back; but there, some distance off, still +running with a lightness and a spring which spoke of iron muscles and +inexhaustible endurance, came the great Barbarian. The Roman Emperor +waited until the athlete had come up to them. + +"Why do you follow me?" he asked. "It is my hope, Caesar, that I may +always follow you." His flushed face as he spoke was almost level with +that of the mounted Roman. + +"By the god of war, I do not know where in all the world I could find +such a servant!" cried the Emperor. "You shall be my own body-guard, the +one nearest to me of all." + +The giant fell upon his knee. "My life and strength are yours," he said. +"I ask no more than to spend them for Caesar." + +Crassus had interpreted this short dialogue. He now turned to the +Emperor. + +"If he is indeed to be always at your call, Caesar, it would be well to +give the poor Barbarian some name which your lips can frame. Theckla is +as uncouth and craggy a word as one of his native rocks." + +The Emperor pondered for a moment. "If I am to have the naming of him," +said he, "then surely I shall call him Maximus, for there is not such a +giant upon earth." + +"Hark you," said the Prefect. "The Emperor has deigned to give you a +Roman name, since you have come into his service. Henceforth you are no +longer Theckla, but you are Maximus. Can you say it after me?" + +"Maximin," repeated the Barbarian, trying to catch the Roman word. + +The Emperor laughed at the mincing accent. "Yes, yes, Maximin let it +be. To all the world you are Maximin, the body-guard of Severus. When +we have reached Rome, we will soon see that your dress shall correspond +with your office. Meanwhile march with the guard until you have my +further orders." + +So it came about that as the Roman army resumed its march next day, and +left behind it the fair valley of the Harpessus, a huge recruit, clad +in brown leather, with a rude sheep-skin floating from his shoulders, +marched beside the Imperial troop. But far away in the wooden farmhouse +of a distant Macedonian valley two old country folk wept salt tears, and +prayed to the gods for the safety of their boy who had turned his face +to Rome. + + + + +II THE RISE OF GIANT MAXIMIN + + +Exactly twenty-five years had passed since the day that Theckla the huge +Thracian peasant had turned into Maximin the Roman guardsman. They had +not been good years for Rome. Gone for ever were the great Imperial days +of the Hadrians and the Trajans. Gone also the golden age of the two +Antonines, when the highest were for once the most worthy and most +wise. It had been an epoch of weak and cruel men. Severus, the swarthy +African, a stark grim man, had died in far away York, after fighting all +the winter with the Caledonian Highlanders--a race who have ever +since worn the martial garb of the Romans. His son, known only by his +slighting nick-name of Caracalla, had reigned during six years of insane +lust and cruelty, before the knife of an angry soldier avenged the +dignity of the Roman name. The nonentity Macrinus had filled the +dangerous throne for a single year before he also met a bloody end, +and made room for the most grotesque of all monarchs, the unspeakable +Heliogabalus with his foul mind and his painted face. He in turn was cut +to pieces by the soldiers, and Severus Alexander, a gentle youth, scarce +seventeen years of age, had been thrust into his place. For thirteen +years now he had ruled, striving with some success to put some virtue +and stability into the rotting Empire, but raising many fierce enemies +as he did so-enemies whom he had not the strength nor the wit to hold in +check. + +And Giant Maximin--what of him? He had carried his eight feet of manhood +through the lowlands of Scotland, and the passes of the Grampians. +He had seen Severus pass away, and had soldiered with his son. He +had fought in Armenia, in Dacia, and in Germany. They had made him a +centurion upon the field when with his hands he plucked out one by +one the stockades of a northern village, and so cleared a path for +the stormers. His strength had been the jest and the admiration of the +soldiers. Legends about him had spread through the army and were the +common gossip round the camp fires--of his duel with the German axeman +on the Island of the Rhine, and of the blow with his fist which broke +the leg of a Scythian's horse. Gradually he had won his way upwards, +until now, after quarter of a century's service he was tribune of the +fourth legion and superintendent of recruits for the whole army. The +young soldier who had come under the glare of Maximin's eyes, or had +been lifted up with one huge hand while he was cuffed by the other, had +his first lesson from him in the discipline of the service. + +It was nightfall in the camp of the fourth legion upon the Gallic shore +of the Rhine. Across the moonlit water, amid the thick forests which +stretched away to the dim horizon, lay the wild untamed German tribes. +Down on the river bank the light gleamed upon the helmets of the Roman +sentinels who kept guard along the river. Far away a red point rose and +fell in the darkness--a watch-fire of the enemy upon the further shore. + +Outside his tent, beside some smouldering logs, Giant Maximin was +seated, a dozen of his officers around him. He had changed much since +the day when we first met him in the Valley of the Harpessus. His huge +frame was as erect as ever, and there was no sign of diminution of his +strength. But he had aged none the less. The yellow tangle of hair was +gone, worn down by the ever-pressing helmet. The fresh young face was +drawn and hardened, with austere lines wrought by trouble and privation. +The nose was more hawk-like, the eyes more cunning, the expression more +cynical and more sinister. In his youth, a child would have run to +his arms. Now it would shrink screaming from his gaze. That was what +twenty-five years with the eagles had done for Theckla the Thracian +peasant. + +He was listening now--for he was a man of few words--to the chatter of +his centurions. One of them, Balbus the Sicilian, had been to the main +camp at Mainz, only four miles away, and had seen the Emperor Alexander +arrive that very day from Rome. The rest were eager at the news, for it +was a time of unrest, and the rumour of great changes was in the air. + +"How many had he with him?" asked Labienus, a black-browed veteran from +the south of Gaul. "I'll wager a month's pay that he was not so trustful +as to come alone among his faithful legions." + +"He had no great force," replied Balbus. "Ten or twelve cohorts of the +Praetorians and a handful of horse." + +"Then indeed his head is in the lion's mouth," cried Sulpicius, a +hot-headed youth from the African Pentapolis. "How was he received?" + +"Coldly enough. There was scarce a shout as he came down the line." + +"They are ripe for mischief," said Labienus. "And who can wonder, when +it is we soldiers who uphold the Empire upon our spears, while the lazy +citizens at Rome reap all of our sowing. Why cannot a soldier have what +a soldier gains? So long as they throw us our denarius a day, they think +that they have done with us." + +"Aye," croaked a grumbling old greybeard. "Our limbs, our blood, our +lives--what do they care so long as the Barbarians are held off, and +they are left in peace to their feastings and their circus? Free bread, +free wine, free games--everything for the loafer at Rome. For us the +frontier guard and a soldier's fare." + +Maximin gave a deep laugh. "Old Plancus talks like that," said he; "but +we know that for all the world he would not change his steel plate for a +citizen's gown. You've earned the kennel, old hound, if you wish it. Go +and gnaw your bone and growl in peace." + +"Nay, I am too old for change. I will follow the eagle till I die. And +yet I had rather die in serving a soldier master than a long-gowned +Syrian who comes of a stock where the women are men and the men are +women." + +There was a laugh from the circle of soldiers, for sedition and mutiny +were rife in the camp, and even the old centurion's outbreak could not +draw a protest. Maximin raised his great mastiff head and looked at +Balbus. + +"Was any name in the mouths of the soldiers?" he asked in a meaning +voice. + +There was a hush for the answer. The sigh of the wind among the pines +and the low lapping of the river swelled out louder in the silence. +Balbus looked hard at his commander. + +"Two names were whispered from rank to rank," said he. "One was Ascenius +Pollio, the General. The other was--" + +The fiery Sulpicius sprang to his feet waving a glowing brand above his +head. + +"Maximinus!" he yelled, "Imperator Maximinus Augustus!" + +Who could tell how it came about? No one had thought of it an hour +before. And now it sprang in an instant to full accomplishment. The +shout of the frenzied young African had scarcely rung through the +darkness when from the tents, from the watch-fires, from the sentries, +the answer came pealing back: "Ave, Maximinus! Ave Maximinus Augustus!" +From all sides men came rushing, half-clad, wild-eyed, their eyes +staring, their mouths agape, flaming wisps of straw or flaring torches +above their heads. The giant was caught up by scores of hands, and sat +enthroned upon the bull-necks of the legionaries. "To the camp!" they +yelled. "To the camp! Hail! Hail to the soldier Caesar!" + +That same night Severus Alexander, the young Syrian Emperor, walked +outside his Praetorian camp, accompanied by his friend Licinius Probus, +the Captain of the Guard. They were talking gravely of the gloomy +faces and seditious bearing of the soldiers. A great foreboding of evil +weighed heavily upon the Emperor's heart, and it was reflected upon the +stern bearded face of his companion. + +"I like it not," said he. "It is my counsel, Caesar, that with the first +light of morning we make our way south once more." + +"But surely," the Emperor answered, "I could not for shame turn my back +upon the danger. What have they against me? How have I harmed them that +they should forget their vows and rise upon me?" + +"They are like children who ask always for something new. You heard the +murmur as you rode along the ranks. Nay, Caesar, fly tomorrow, and your +Praetorians will see that you are not pursued. There may be some loyal +cohorts among the legions, and if we join forces--" + +A distant shout broke in upon their conversation--a low continued roar, +like the swelling tumult of a sweeping wave. Far down the road upon +which they stood there twinkled many moving lights, tossing and sinking +as they rapidly advanced, whilst the hoarse tumultuous bellowing broke +into articulate words, the same tremendous words, a thousand-fold +repeated. Licinius seized the Emperor by the wrist and dragged him under +the cover of some bushes. + +"Be still, Caesar! For your life be still!" he whispered. "One word and +we are lost!" + +Crouching in the darkness, they saw that wild procession pass, the +rushing screaming figures, the tossing arms, the bearded, distorted +faces, now scarlet and now grey, as the brandished torches waxed or +waned. They heard the rush of many feet, the clamour of hoarse voices, +the clang of metal upon metal. And then suddenly, above them all, they +saw a vision of a monstrous man, a huge bowed back, a savage face, grim +hawk eyes, that looked out over the swaying shields. It was seen for an +instant in a smoke-fringed circle of fire, and then it had swept on into +the night. + +"Who is he?" stammered the Emperor, clutching at his guardsman's sleeve. +"They call him Caesar." + +"It is surely Maximin the Thracian peasant." In the darkness the +Praetorian officer looked with strange eyes at his master. + +"It is all over, Caesar. Let us fly your tent." + +But even as they went a second shout had broken forth tenfold louder +than the first. If the one had been the roar of the oncoming wave, the +other was the full turmoil of the tempest. Twenty thousand voices from +the camp had broken into one wild shout which echoed through the night, +until the distant Germans round their watch-fires listened in wonder and +alarm. + +"Ave!" cried the voices. "Ave Maximinus Augustus!" + +High upon their bucklers stood the giant, and looked round him at the +great floor of upturned faces below. His own savage soul was stirred +by the clamour, but only his gleaming eyes spoke of the fire within. +He waved his hand to the shouting soldiers as the huntsman waves to the +leaping pack. They passed him up a coronet of oak leaves, and clashed +their swords in homage as he placed it on his head. And then there came +a swirl in the crowd before him, a little space was cleared, and there +knelt an officer in the Praetorian garb, blood upon his face, blood upon +his bared forearm, blood upon his naked sword. Licinius too had gone +with the tide. + +"Hail, Caesar, hail!" he cried, as he bowed his head before the giant. +"I come from Alexander. He will trouble you no more." + + + + +III THE FALL OF MAXIMIN + + +For three years the soldier Emperor had been upon the throne. His palace +had been his tent, and his people had been the legionaries. With them he +was supreme; away from them he was nothing. He had gone with them from +one frontier to the other. He had fought against Dacians, Sarmatians, +and once again against the Germans. But Rome knew nothing of him, and +all her turbulence rose against a master who cared so little for her or +her opinion that he never deigned to set foot within her walls. There +were cabals and conspiracies against the absent Caesar. Then his heavy +hand fell upon them, and they were cuffed, even as the young soldiers +had been who passed under his discipline. He knew nothing, and cared as +much for consuls, senates, and civil laws. His own will and the power +of the sword were the only forces which he could understand. Of commerce +and the arts he was as ignorant as when he left his Thracian home. The +whole vast Empire was to him a huge machine for producing the money by +which the legions were to be rewarded. Should he fail to get that money, +his fellow soldiers would bear him a grudge. To watch their interests +they had raised him upon their shields that night. If city funds had to +be plundered or temples desecrated, still the money must be got. Such +was the point of view of Giant Maximin. + +But there came resistance, and all the fierce energy of the man, all the +hardness which had given him the leadership of hard men, sprang forth to +quell it. From his youth he had lived amidst slaughter. Life and death +were cheap things to him. He struck savagely at all who stood up to him, +and when they hit back, he struck more savagely still. His giant shadow +lay black across the Empire from Britain to Syria. A strange subtle +vindictiveness became also apparent in him. Omnipotence ripened every +fault and swelled it into crime. In the old days he had been rebuked for +his roughness. Now a sullen dangerous anger arose against those who had +rebuked him. He sat by the hour with his craggy chin between his +hands, and his elbows resting on his knees, while he recalled all the +misadventures, all the vexations of his early youth, when Roman wits had +shot their little satires upon his bulk and his ignorance. He could not +write, but his son Verus placed the names upon his tablets, and they +were sent to the Governor of Rome. Men who had long forgotten their +offence were called suddenly to make most bloody reparation. + +A rebellion broke out in Africa, but was quelled by his lieutenant. But +the mere rumour of it set Rome in a turmoil. The Senate found something +of its ancient spirit. So did the Italian people. They would not be for +ever bullied by the legions. As Maximin approached from the frontier, +with the sack of rebellious Rome in his mind, he was faced with every +sign of a national resistance. The countryside was deserted, the farms +abandoned, the fields cleared of crops and cattle. Before him lay the +walled town of Aquileia. He flung himself fiercely upon it, but was met +by as fierce a resistance. The walls could not be forced, and yet there +was no food in the country round for his legions. The men were starving +and dissatisfied. What did it matter to them who was Emperor? Maximin +was no better than themselves. Why should they call down the curse of +the whole Empire upon their heads by upholding him? He saw their sullen +faces and their averted eyes, and he knew that the end had come. + +That night he sat with his son Verus in his tent, and he spoke softly +and gently as the youth had never heard him speak before. He had spoken +thus in old days with Paullina, the boy's mother; but she had been dead +these many years, and all that was soft and gentle in the big man had +passed away with her. Now her spirit seemed very near him, and his own +was tempered by its presence. + +"I would have you go back to the Thracian mountains," he said. "I have +tried both, boy, and I can tell you that there is no pleasure which +power can bring which can equal the breath of the wind and the smell of +the kine upon a summer morning. Against you they have no quarrel. +Why should they mishandle you? Keep far from Rome and the Romans. Old +Eudoxus has money, and to spare. He awaits you with two horses outside +the camp. Make for the valley of the Harpessus, lad. It was thence +that your father came, and there you will find his kin. Buy and stock +a homestead, and keep yourself far from the paths of greatness and of +danger. God keep you, Verus, and send you safe to Thrace." + +When his son had kissed his hand and had left him, the Emperor drew his +robe around him and sat long in thought. In his slow brain he revolved +the past--his early peaceful days, his years with Severus, his memories +of Britain, his long campaigns, his strivings and battlings, all leading +to that mad night by the Rhine. His fellow soldiers had loved him then. +And now he had read death in their eyes. How had he failed them? Others +he might have wronged, but they at least had no complaint against him. +If he had his time again, he would think less of them and more of his +people, he would try to win love instead of fear, he would live +for peace and not for war. If he had his time again! But there were +shuffling Steps, furtive whispers, and the low rattle of arms outside +his tent. A bearded face looked in at him, a swarthy African face that +he knew well. He laughed, and, bearing his arm, he took his sword from +the table beside him. + +"It is you, Sulpicius," said he. "You have not come to cry 'Ave +Imperator Maximin!' as once by the camp fire. You are tired of me, and +by the gods I am tired of you, and glad to be at the end of it. Come +and have done with it, for I am minded to see how many of you I can take +with me when I go." + +They clustered at the door of the tent, peeping over each other's +shoulders, and none wishing to be the first to close with that laughing, +mocking giant. But something was pushed forward upon a spear point, and +as he saw it, Maximin groaned and his sword sank to the earth. + +"You might have spared the boy," he sobbed. "He would not have hurt you. +Have done with it then, for I will gladly follow him." + +So they closed upon him and cut and stabbed and thrust, until his knees +gave way beneath him and he dropped upon the floor. + +"The tyrant is dead!" they cried. "The tyrant is dead," and from all the +camp beneath them and from the walls of the beleaguered city the joyous +cry came echoing back, "He is dead, Maximin is dead!" + +I sit in my study, and upon the table before me lies a denarius of +Maximin, as fresh as when the triumvir of the Temple of Juno Moneta +sent it from the mint. Around it are recorded his resounding +titles--Imperator Maximinus, Pontifex Maximus, Tribunitia potestate, and +the rest. In the centre is the impress of a great craggy head, a massive +jaw, a rude fighting face, a contracted forehead. For all the pompous +roll of titles it is a peasant's face, and I see him not as the Emperor +of Rome, but as the great Thracian boor who strode down the hillside on +that far-distant summer day when first the eagles beckoned him to Rome. + + + + +THE COMING OF THE HUNS + + +In the middle of the fourth century the state of the Christian religion +was a scandal and a disgrace. Patient, humble, and long-suffering in +adversity, it had become positive, aggressive, and unreasonable with +success. Paganism was not yet dead, but it was rapidly sinking, finding +its most faithful supporters among the conservative aristocrats of the +best families on the one hand, and among those benighted villagers on +the other who gave their name to the expiring creed. Between these +two extremes the great majority of reasonable men had turned from the +conception of many gods to that of one, and had rejected for ever the +beliefs of their forefathers. But with the vices of polytheism they had +also abandoned its virtues, among which toleration and religious good +humour had been conspicuous. The strenuous earnestness of the Christians +had compelled them to examine and define every point of their own +theology; but as they had no central authority by which such definitions +could be checked, it was not long before a hundred heresies had put +forward their rival views, while the same earnestness of conviction led +the stronger bands of schismatics to endeavour, for conscience sake, to +force their views upon the weaker, and thus to cover the Eastern world +with confusion and strife. + +Alexandria, Antioch, and Constantinople were centres of theological +warfare. The whole north of Africa, too, was rent by the strife of the +Donatists, who upheld their particular schism by iron flails and the +war-cry of "Praise to the Lord!" But minor local controversies sank to +nothing when compared with the huge argument of the Catholic and the +Arian, which rent every village in twain, and divided every household +from the cottage to the palace. The rival doctrines of the Homoousian +and of the Homoiousian, containing metaphysical differences so +attenuated that they could hardly be stated, turned bishop against +bishop and congregation against congregation. The ink of the theologians +and the blood of the fanatics were spilled in floods on either side, and +gentle followers of Christ were horrified to find that their faith was +responsible for such a state of riot and bloodshed as had never yet +disgraced the religious history of the world. Many of the more earnest +among them, shocked and scandalized, slipped away to the Libyan Desert, +or to the solitude of Pontus, there to await in self-denial and prayer +that second coming which was supposed to be at hand. Even in the deserts +they could not escape the echo of the distant strife, and the hermits +themselves scowled fiercely from their dens at passing travellers who +might be contaminated by the doctrines of Athanasius or of Arius. + +Such a hermit was Simon Melas, of whom I write. A Trinitarian and a +Catholic, he was shocked by the excesses of the persecution of the +Arians, which could be only matched by the similar outrages with which +these same Arians in the day of their power avenged their treatment on +their brother Christians. Weary of the whole strife, and convinced +that the end of the world was indeed at hand, he left his home in +Constantinople and travelled as far as the Gothic settlements in Dacia, +beyond the Danube, in search of some spot where he might be free from +the never-ending disputes. Still journeying to the north and east, he +crossed the river which we now call the Dneister, and there, finding +a rocky hill rising from an immense plain, he formed a cell near its +summit, and settled himself down to end his life in self-denial and +meditation. There were fish in the stream, the country teemed with +game, and there was an abundance of wild fruits, so that his spiritual +exercises were not unduly interrupted by the search of sustenance for +his mortal frame. + +In this distant retreat he expected to find absolute solitude, but the +hope was in vain. Within a week of his arrival, in an hour of worldly +curiosity, he explored the edges of the high rocky hill upon which he +lived. Making his way up to a cleft, which was hung with olives and +myrtles, he came upon a cave in the opening of which sat an aged man, +white-bearded, white-haired, and infirm--a hermit like himself. So long +had this stranger been alone that he had almost forgotten the use of his +tongue; but at last, words coming more freely, he was able to convey +the information that his name was Paul of Nicopolis, that he was a Greek +citizen, and that he also had come out into the desert for the saving of +his soul, and to escape from the contamination of heresy. + +"Little I thought, brother Simon," said he, "that I should ever find +any one else who had come so far upon the same holy errand. In all these +years, and they are so many that I have lost count of them, I have never +seen a man, save indeed one or two wandering shepherds far out upon +yonder plain." + +From where they sat, the huge steppe, covered with waving grass and +gleaming with a vivid green in the sun, stretched away as level and as +unbroken as the sea, to the eastern horizon. Simon Melas stared across +it with curiosity. + +"Tell me, brother Paul," said he, "you who have lived here so long--what +lies at the further side of that plain?" + +The old man shook his head. "There is no further side to the plain," +said he. "It is the earth's boundary, and stretches away to eternity. +For all these years I have sat beside it, but never once have I seen +anything come across it. It is manifest that if there had been a further +side there would certainly at some time have come some traveller from +that direction. Over the great river yonder is the Roman post of +Tyras; but that is a long day's journey from here, and they have never +disturbed my meditations." + +"On what do you meditate, brother Paul?" + +"At first I meditated on many sacred mysteries; but now, for twenty +years, I have brooded continually on the nature of the Logos. What is +your view upon that vital matter, brother Simon?" + +"Surely," said the younger man, "there can be no question as to that. +The Logos is assuredly but a name used by St. John to signify the +Deity." + +The old hermit gave a hoarse cry of fury, and his brown, withered face +was convulsed with anger. Seizing the huge cudgel which he kept to beat +off the wolves, he shook it murderously at his companion. + +"Out with you! Out of my cell!" he cried. "Have I lived here so long +to have it polluted by a vile Trinitarian--a follower of the rascal +Athanasius? Wretched idolater, learn once for all, that the Logos is in +truth an emanation from the Deity, and in no sense equal or co-eternal +with Him! Out with you, I say, or I will dash out your brains with my +staff!" + +It was useless to reason with the furious Arian, and Simon withdrew in +sadness and wonder, that at this extreme verge of the known earth the +spirit of religious strife should still break upon the peaceful solitude +of the wilderness. With hanging head and heavy heart he made his way +down the valley, and climbed up once more to his own cell, which lay +at the crown of the hill, with the intention of never again exchanging +visits with his Arian neighbour. + +Here, for a year, dwelt Simon Melas, leading a life of solitude and +prayer. There was no reason why any one should ever come to this +outermost point of human habitation. Once a young Roman officer--Caius +Crassus--rode out a day's journey from Tyras, and climbed the hill to +have speech with the anchorite. He was of an equestrian family, and +still held his belief in the old dispensation. He looked with interest +and surprise, but also with some disgust, at the ascetic arrangements of +that humble abode. + +"Whom do you please by living in such a fashion?" he asked. + +"We show that our spirit is superior to our flesh," Simon answered. "If +we fare badly in this world, we believe that we shall reap an advantage +in the world to come." + +The centurion shrugged his shoulders. "There are philosophers among our +people, Stoics and others, who have the same idea. When I was in the +Herulian Cohort of the Fourth Legion we were quartered in Rome itself, +and I saw much of the Christians, but I could never learn anything +from them which I had not heard from my own father, whom you, in your +arrogance, would call a Pagan. It is true that we talk of numerous gods; +but for many years we have not taken them very seriously. Our thoughts +upon virtue and duty and a noble life are the same as your own." + +Simon Melas shook his head. + +"If you have not the holy books," said he, "then what guide have you to +direct your steps?" + +"If you will read our philosophers, and above all the divine Plato, you +will find that there are other guides who may take you to the same end. +Have you by chance read the book which was written by our Emperor Marcus +Aurelius? Do you not discover there every virtue which man could have, +although he knew nothing of your creed? Have you considered, also, the +words and actions of our late Emperor Julian, with whom I served my +first campaign when he went out against the Persians? Where could you +find a more perfect man than he?" + +"Such talk is unprofitable, and I will have no more of it," said Simon, +sternly. "Take heed while there is time, and embrace the true faith; +for the end of the world is at hand, and when it comes there will be no +mercy for those who have shut their eyes to the light." So saying, he +turned back once more to his praying-stool and to his crucifix, while +the young Roman walked in deep thought down the hill, and mounting his +horse, rode off to his distant post. Simon watched him until his brazen +helmet was but a bead of light on the western edge of the great plain; +for this was the first human face that he had seen in all this long +year, and there were times when his heart yearned for the voices and the +faces of his kind. + +So another year passed, and save for the chance of weather and the slow +change of the seasons, one day was as another. Every morning, when Simon +opened his eyes, he saw the same grey line ripening into red in the +furthest east, until the bright rim pushed itself above that far-off +horizon across which no living creature had ever been known to come. +Slowly the sun swept across the huge arch of the heavens, and as the +shadows shifted from the black rocks which jutted upward from above his +cell, so did the hermit regulate his terms of prayer and meditation. +There was nothing on earth to draw his eye, or to distract his mind, +for the grassy plain below was as void from month to month as the heaven +above. So the long hours passed, until the red rim slipped down on the +further side, and the day ended in the same pearl-grey shimmer with +which it had begun. Once two ravens circled for some days round the +lonely hill, and once a white fish-eagle came from the Dneister and +screamed above the hermit's head. Sometimes red dots were seen on the +green plain where the antelopes grazed, and often a wolf howled in the +darkness from the base of the rocks. Such was the uneventful life of +Simon Melas the anchorite, until there came the day of wrath. + +It was in the late spring of the year 375 that Simon came out from his +cell, his gourd in his hand, to draw water from the spring. Darkness had +closed in, the sun had set, but one last glimmer of rosy light rested +upon a rocky peak, which jutted forth from the hill, on the further side +from the hermit's dwelling. As Simon came forth from under his ledge, +the gourd dropped from his hand, and he stood gazing in amazement. + +On the opposite peak a man was standing, his outline black in the +fading light. He was a strange almost a deformed figure, short-statured, +round-backed, with a large head, no neck, and a long rod jutting out +from between his shoulders. He stood with his face advanced, and his +body bent, peering very intently over the plain to the westward. In a +moment he was gone, and the lonely black peak showed up hard and naked +against the faint eastern glimmer. Then the night closed down, and all +was black once more. + +Simon Melas stood long in bewilderment, wondering who this stranger +could be. He had heard, as had every Christian, of those evil spirits +which were wont to haunt the hermits in the Thebaid and on the skirts +of the Ethiopian waste. The strange shape of this solitary creature, +its dark outline and prowling, intent attitude, suggestive rather of a +fierce, rapacious beast than of a man, all helped him to believe that +he had at last encountered one of those wanderers from the pit, of whose +existence, in those days of robust faith, he had no more doubt than +of his own. Much of the night he spent in prayer, his eyes glancing +continually at the low arch of his cell door, with its curtain of deep +purple wrought with stars. At any instant some crouching monster, some +homed abomination, might peer in upon him; and he clung with frenzied +appeal to his crucifix, as his human weakness quailed at the thought. +But at last his fatigue overcame his fears, and falling upon his couch +of dried grass, he slept until the bright daylight brought him to his +senses. + +It was later than was his wont, and the sun was far above the horizon. +As he came forth from his cell, he looked across at the peak of rock, +but it stood there bare and silent. Already it seemed to him that that +strange dark figure which had startled him so was some dream, some +vision of the twilight. His gourd lay where it had fallen, and he picked +it up with the intention of going to the spring. But suddenly he was +aware of something new. The whole air was throbbing with sound. From all +sides it came, rumbling, indefinite, an inarticulate mutter, low, but +thick and strong, rising, falling, reverberating among the rocks, dying +away into vague whispers, but always there. He looked round at the blue, +cloudless sky in bewilderment. Then he scrambled up the rocky pinnacle +above him, and sheltering himself in its shadow, he stared out over the +plain. In his wildest dream he had never imagined such a sight. + +The whole vast expanse was covered with horse-men, hundreds and +thousands and tens of thousands, all riding slowly and in silence, out +of the unknown east. It was the multitudinous beat of their horses' +hoofs which caused that low throbbing in his ears. Some were so close +to him as he looked down upon them that he could see clearly their +thin wiry horses, and the strange humped figures of the swarthy riders, +sitting forward on the withers, shapeless bundles, their short legs +hanging stirrupless, their bodies balanced as firmly as though they were +part of the beast. In those nearest he could see the bow and the quiver, +the long spear and the short sword, with the coiled lasso behind the +rider, which told that this was no helpless horde of wanderers, but a +formidable army upon the march. His eyes passed on from them and swept +further and further, but still to the very horizon, which quivered +with movement, there was no end to this monstrous cavalry. Already the +vanguard was far past the island of rock upon which he dwelt, and he +could now understand that in front of this vanguard were single scouts +who guided the course of the army, and that it was one of these whom he +had seen the evening before. + +All day, held spell-bound by this wonderful sight, the hermit crouched +in the shadow of the rocks, and all day the sea of horsemen rolled +onward over the plain beneath. Simon had seen the swarming quays of +Alexandria, he had watched the mob which blocked the hippodrome of +Constantinople, yet never had he imagined such a multitude as now +defiled beneath his eyes, coming from that eastern skyline which had +been the end of his world. Sometimes the dense streams of horsemen +were broken by droves of brood-mares and foals, driven along by mounted +guards; sometimes there were herds of cattle; sometimes there were lines +of waggons with skin canopies above them; but then once more, after +every break, came the horsemen, the horsemen, the hundreds and the +thousands and the tens of thousands, slowly, ceaselessly, silently +drifting from the east to the west. The long day passed, the light +waned, and the shadows fell; but still the great broad stream was +flowing by. + +But the night brought a new and even stranger sight. Simon had marked +bundles of faggots upon the backs of many of the led horses, and now he +saw their use. All over the great plain, red pin-points gleamed through +the darkness, which grew and brightened into flickering columns of +flame. So far as he could see both to east and west the fires extended, +until they were but points of light in the furthest distance. White +stars shone in the vast heavens above, red ones in the great plain +below. And from every side rose the low, confused murmur of voices, with +the lowing of oxen and the neighing of horses. + +Simon had been a soldier and a man of affairs before ever he forsook the +world, and the meaning of all that he had seen was clear to him. History +told him how the Roman world had ever been assailed by fresh swarms of +Barbarians, coming from the outer darkness, and that the Eastern Empire +had already, in its fifty years of existence since Constantine had moved +the capital of the world to the shores of the Bosphorus, been tormented +in the same way. Gepidae and Heruli, Ostrogoths and Sarmatians, he was +familiar with them all. What the advanced sentinel of Europe had seen +from this lonely outlying hill, was a fresh swarm breaking in upon the +Empire, distinguished only from the others by its enormous, incredible +size and by the strange aspect of the warriors who composed it. He +alone of all civilized men knew of the approach of this dreadful shadow, +sweeping like a heavy storm-cloud from the unknown depths of the east. +He thought of the little Roman posts along the Dneister, of the +ruined Dacian wall of Trajan behind them, and then of the scattered, +defenceless villages which lay with no thought of danger over all the +open country which stretched down to the Danube. Could he but give them +the alarm! Was it not, perhaps, for that very end that God had guided +him to the wilderness? + +Then suddenly he remembered his Arian neighbour, who dwelt in the cave +beneath him. Once or twice during the last year he had caught a glimpse +of his tall, bent figure hobbling round to examine the traps which he +laid for quails and partridges. On one occasion they had met at the +brook; but the old theologian waved him away, as if he were a +leper. What did he think now of this strange happening? Surely their +differences might be forgotten at such a moment. He stole down the side +of the hill, and made his way to his fellow-hermit's cave. + +But there was a terrible silence as he approached it. His heart sank +at that deadly stillness in the little valley. No glimmer of light came +from the cleft in the rocks. He entered and called, but no answer came +back. Then, with flint, steel, and the dry grass which he used for +tinder, he struck a spark, and blew it into a blaze. The old hermit, +his white hair dabbled with crimson, lay sprawling across the floor. +The broken crucifix, with which his head had been beaten in, lay +in splinters across him. Simon had dropped on his knees beside him, +straightening his contorted limbs, and muttering the office for the +dead, when the thud of a horse's hoofs was heard ascending the little +valley which led to the hermit's cell. The dry grass had burned down, +and Simon crouched trembling in the darkness, pattering prayers to the +Virgin that his strength might be upheld. + +It may have been that the newcomer had seen the gleam of the light, or +it may have been that he had heard from his comrades of the old man whom +they had murdered, and that his curiosity had led him to the spot. He +stopped his horse outside the cave, and Simon, lurking in the shadows +within, had a fair view of him in the moonlight. He slipped from his +saddle, fastened the bridle to a root, and then stood peering through +the opening of the cell. He was a very short, thick man, with a dark +face, which was gashed with three cuts upon either side. His small eyes +were sunk deep in his head, showing like black holes in the heavy, flat, +hairless face. His legs were short and very bandy, so that he waddled +uncouthly as he walked. + +Simon crouched in the darkest angle, and he gripped in his hand that +same knotted cudgel which the dead theologian had once raised against +him. As that hideous stooping head advanced into the darkness of the +cell, he brought the staff down upon it with all the strength of his +right arm, and then, as the stricken savage fell forward upon his face, +he struck madly again and again, until the shapeless figure lay limp and +still. One roof covered the first slain of Europe and of Asia. + +Simon's veins were throbbing and quivering with the unwonted joy of +action. All the energy stored up in those years of repose came in a +flood at this moment of need. Standing in the darkness of the cell, he +saw, as in a map of fire, the outlines of the great Barbaric host, the +line of the river, the position of the settlements, the means by which +they might be warned. Silently he waited in the shadow until the moon +had sunk. Then he flung himself upon the dead man's horse, guided it +down the gorge, and set forth at a gallop across the plain. + +There were fires on every side of him, but he kept clear of the rings +of light. Round each he could see, as he passed, the circle of sleeping +warriors, with the long lines of picketed horses. Mile after mile and +league after league stretched that huge encampment. And then, at last, +he had reached the open plain which led to the river, and the fires of +the invaders were but a dull smoulder against the black eastern +sky. Ever faster and faster he sped across the steppe, like a single +fluttered leaf which whirls before the storm. Even as the dawn whitened +the sky behind him, it gleamed also upon the broad river in front, and +he flogged his weary horse through the shallows, until he plunged into +its full yellow tide. + +So it was that, as the young Roman centurion--Caius Crassus--made his +morning round in the fort of Tyras he saw a single horseman, who rode +towards him from the river. Weary and spent, drenched with water and +caked with dirt and sweat, both horse and man were at the last stage of +their endurance. With amazement the Roman watched their progress, and +recognized in the ragged, swaying figure, with flying hair and staring +eyes, the hermit of the eastern desert. He ran to meet him, and caught +him in his arms as he reeled from the saddle. + +"What is it, then?" he asked. "What is your news?" + +But the hermit could only point at the rising sun. "To arms!" he +croaked. "To arms! The day of wrath is come!" And as he looked, the +Roman saw--far across the river--a great dark shadow, which moved slowly +over the distant plain. + + + + +THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS + + +Pontus, the Roman viceroy, sat in the atrium of his palatial villa by +the Thames, and he looked with perplexity at the scroll of papyrus which +he had just unrolled. Before him stood the messenger who had brought +it, a swarthy little Italian, whose black eyes were glazed with want +of sleep, and his olive features darker still from dust and sweat. The +viceroy was looking fixedly at him, yet he saw him not, so full was his +mind of this sudden and most unexpected order. To him it seemed as if +the solid earth had given way beneath his feet. His life and the work of +his life had come to irremediable ruin. + +"Very good," he said at last in a hard dry voice, "you can go." + +The man saluted and staggered out of the hall. + +A yellow-haired British major-domo came forward for orders. + +"Is the General there?" + +"He is waiting, your excellency." + +"Then show him in, and leave us together." + +A few minutes later Licinius Crassus, the head of the British military +establishment, had joined his chief. He was a large bearded man in a +white civilian toga, hemmed with the Patrician purple. His rough, bold +features, burned and seamed and lined with the long African wars, were +shadowed with anxiety as he looked with questioning eyes at the drawn, +haggard face of the viceroy. + +"I fear, your excellency, that you have had bad news from Rome." + +"The worst, Crassus. It is all over with Britain. It is a question +whether even Gaul will be held." + +"Saint Albus save us! Are the orders precise?" + +"Here they are, with the Emperor's own seal." + +"But why? I had heard a rumour, but it had seemed too incredible." + +"So had I only last week, and had the fellow scourged for having spread +it. But here it is as clear as words can make it: 'Bring every man of +the Legions by forced marches to the help of the Empire. Leave not a +cohort in Britain.' These are my orders." + +"But the cause?" + +"They will let the limbs wither so that the heart be stronger. The +old German hive is about to swarm once more. There are fresh crowds of +Barbarians from Dacia and Scythia. Every sword is needed to hold the +Alpine passes. They cannot let three legions lie idle in Britain." + +The soldier shrugged his shoulder's. + +"When the legions go no Roman would feel that his life was safe here. +For all that we have done, it is none the less the truth that it is no +country of ours, and that we hold it as we won it by the sword." + +"Yes, every man, woman, and child of Latin blood must come with us to +Gaul. The galleys are already waiting at Portus Dubris. Get the orders +out, Crassus, at once. As the Valerian legion falls back from the Wall +of Hadrian it can take the northern colonists with it. The Jovians can +bring in the people from the west, and the Batavians can escort the +easterns if they will muster at Camboricum. You will see to it." He sank +his face for a moment in his hands. "It is a fearsome thing," said he, +"to tear up the roots of so goodly a tree." + +"To make more space for such a crop of weeds," said the soldier +bitterly. "My God, what will be the end of these poor Britons! From +ocean to ocean there is not a tribe which will not be at the throat of +its neighbour when the last Roman Lictor has turned his back. With these +hot-headed Silures it is hard enough now to keep the swords in their +sheaths." + +"The kennel might fight as they chose among themselves until the best +hound won," said the Roman Governor. "At least the victor would keep the +arts and the religion which we have brought them, and Britain would be +one land. No, it is the bear from the north and the wolves from oversea, +the painted savage from beyond the walls and the Saxon pirate from over +the water, who will succeed to our rule. Where we saved, they will slay; +where we built, they will burn; where we planted, they will ravage. But +the die is cast, Crassus. You will carry out the orders." + +"I will send out the messengers within an hour. This very morning there +has come news that the Barbarians are through the old gap in the wall, +and their outriders as far south as Vinovia." The Governor shrugged his +shoulders. "These things concern us no longer," said he. Then a bitter +smile broke upon his aquiline clean-shaven face. "Whom think you that I +see in audience this morning?" + +"Nay, I know not." + +"Caradoc and Regnus, and Celticus the Icenian, who, like so many of the +richer Britons, have been educated at Rome, and who would lay before me +their plans as to the ruling of this country." + +"And what is their plan?" + +"That they themselves should do it." The Roman soldier laughed. "Well, +they will have their will," said he, as he saluted and turned upon his +heel. "Farewell, your excellency. There are hard days coming for you and +for me." + +An hour later the British deputation was ushered into the presence of +the Governor. They were good steadfast men, men who with a whole heart, +and at some risk to themselves, had taken up their country's cause, so +far as they could see it. At the same time, they well knew that under +the mild and beneficent rule of Rome it was only when they passed from +words to deeds that their backs or their necks would be in danger. +They stood now, earnest and a little abashed, before the throne of the +viceroy. Celticus was a swarthy black-bearded little Iberian. Caradoc +and Regnus were tall middle-aged men of the fair flaxen British type. +All three were dressed in the draped yellow toga after the Latin +fashion, instead of in the bracae and tunic which distinguished their +more insular fellow-countrymen. + +"Well?" asked the Governor. + +"We are here," said Celticus boldly, "as the spokesmen of a great +number of our fellow-countrymen, for the purpose of sending our petition +through you to the Emperor and to the Roman Senate, that we may urge +upon them the policy of allowing us to govern this country after our own +ancient fashion." He paused, as if awaiting some outburst as an answer +to his own temerity; but the Governor merely nodded his head as a sign +that he should proceed. "We had laws of our own before ever Caesar +set foot in Britain, which have served their purpose since first our +forefathers came from the land of Ham. We are not a child among the +nations, but our history goes back in our own traditions--further even +than that of Rome, and we are galled by this yoke which you have laid +upon us." + +"Are not our laws just?" asked the Governor. + +"The code of Caesar is just, but it is always the code of Caesar. Our +own laws were made for our own uses and our own circumstances, and we +would fain have them again." + +"You speak Roman as if you had been bred in the Forum; you wear a Roman +toga; your hair is filleted in Roman fashion--are not these the gifts of +Rome?" + +"We would take all the learning and all the arts that Rome or Greece +could give, but we would still be Britain, and ruled by Britons." + +The viceroy smiled. "By the rood of Saint Helena," said he, "had you +spoken thus to some of my heathen ancestors, there would have been an +end to your politics. That you have dared to stand before my face and +say as much is a proof for ever of the gentleness of our rule. But I +would reason with you for a moment upon this your request. You know well +that this land has never been one kingdom, but was always under many +chiefs and many tribes, who have made war upon each other. Would you in +very truth have it so again?" + +"Those were in the evil pagan days, the days of the Druid and the +oak-grove, your excellency. But now we are held together by a gospel of +peace." + +The viceroy shook his head. "If all the world were of the same way +of thinking, then it would be easier," said he. "It may be that this +blessed doctrine of peace will be little help to you when you are face +to face with strong men who still worship the god of war. What would you +do against the Picts of the north?" + +"Your excellency knows that many of the bravest legionaries are of +British blood. These are our defence." + +"But discipline, man, the power to command, the knowledge of war, the +strength to act--it is in these things that you would fail. Too long +have you leaned upon the crutch." + +"The times may be hard, but when we have gone through them, Britain will +be herself again." + +"Nay, she will be under a different and a harsher master," said the +Roman. "Already the pirates swarm upon the eastern coast. Were it not +for our Roman Count of the Saxon shore they would land tomorrow. I see +the day when Britain may, indeed, be one; but that will be because you +and your fellows are either dead or are driven into the mountains of the +west. All goes into the melting-pot, and if a better Albion should come +forth from it, it will be after ages of strife, and neither you nor your +people will have part or lot in it." + +Regnus, the tall young Celt, smiled. "With the help of God and our own +right arms we should hope for a better end," said he. "Give us but the +chance, and we will bear the brunt." + +"You are as men that are lost," said the viceroy sadly. "I see this +broad land, with its gardens and orchards, its fair villas and its +walled towns, its bridges and its roads, all the work of Rome. Surely +it will pass even as a dream, and these three hundred years of settled +order will leave no trace behind. For learn that it will indeed be as +you wish, and that this very day the orders have come to me that the +legions are to go." + +The three Britons looked at each other in amazement. Their first impulse +was towards a wild exultation, but reflection and doubt followed close +upon its heels. + +"This is indeed wondrous news," said Celticus. "This is a day of days to +the motherland. When do the legions go, your excellency, and what troops +will remain behind for our protection?" + +"The legions go at once," said the viceroy. "You will doubtless rejoice +to hear that within a month there will be no Roman soldier in the +island, nor, indeed, a Roman of any sort, age, or sex, if I can take +them with me." + +The faces of the Britons were shadowed, and Caradoc, a grave and +thoughtful man, spoke for the first time. + +"But this is over sudden, your excellency," said he. "There is much +truth in what you have said about the pirates. From my villa near the +fort of Anderida I saw eighty of their galleys only last week, and I +know well that they would be on us like ravens on a dying ox. For many +years to come it would not be possible for us to hold them off." + +The viceroy shrugged his shoulders. "It is your affair now," said he. +"Rome must look to herself." + +The last traces of joy had passed from the faces of the Britons. +Suddenly the future had started up clearly before them, and they quailed +at the prospect. + +"There is a rumour in the market-place," said Celticus, "that the +northern Barbarians are through the gap in the wall. Who is to stop +their progress?" + +"You and your fellows," said the Roman. + +Clearer still grew the future, and there was terror in the eyes of the +spokesmen as they faced it. + +"But, your excellency, if the legions should go at once, we should have +the wild Scots at York, and the Northmen in the Thames within the month. +We can build ourselves up under your shield, and in a few years it would +be easier for us; but not now, your excellency, not now." + +"Tut, man; for years you have been clamouring in our ears and raising +the people. Now you have got what you asked. What more would you have? +Within the month you will be as free as were your ancestors before +Caesar set foot upon your shore." + +"For God's sake, your excellency, put our words out of your head. The +matter had not been well considered. We will send to Rome. We will ride +post-haste ourselves. We will fall at the Emperor's feet. We will kneel +before the Senate and beg that the legions remain." + +The Roman proconsul rose from his chair and motioned that the audience +was at an end. + +"You will do what you please," said he. "I and my men are for Italy." + +And even as he said, so was it, for before the spring had ripened into +summer, the troops were clanking down the via Aurelia on their way to +the Ligurian passes, whilst every road in Gaul was dotted with the +carts and the waggons which bore the Brito-Roman refugees on their weary +journey to their distant country. But ere another summer had passed +Celticus was dead, for he was flayed alive by the pirates and his skin +nailed upon the door of a church near Caistor. Regnus, too, was dead, +for he was tied to a tree and shot with arrows when the painted men came +to the sacking of Isca. Caradoc only was alive, but he was a slave to +Elda the red Caledonian, and his wife was mistress to Mordred the wild +chief of the western Cymri. From the ruined wall in the north to Vectis +in the south blood and ruin and ashes covered the fair land of Britain. +And after many days it came out fairer than ever, but, even as the Roman +had said, neither the Britons nor any men of their blood came into the +heritage of that which had been their own. + + + + +THE FIRST CARGO + + +"Ex ovo omnia" + +When you left Briton with your legion, my dear Crassus, I promised that +I would write to you from time to time when a messenger chanced to be +going to Rome, and keep you informed as to anything of interest which +might occur in this country. Personally, I am very glad that I remained +behind when the troops and so many of our citizens left, for though the +living is rough and the climate is infernal, still by dint of the three +voyages which I have made for amber to the Baltic, and the excellent +prices which I obtained for it here, I shall soon be in a position to +retire, and to spend my old age under my own fig tree, or even perhaps +to buy a small villa at Baiae or Posuoli, where I could get a good +sun-bath after the continued fogs of this accursed island. I picture +myself on a little farm, and I read the Georgics as a preparation; but +when I hear the rain falling and the wind howling, Italy seems very far +away. + +In my previous letter, I let you know how things were going in this +country. The poor folk, who had given up all soldiering during the +centuries that we guarded them, are now perfectly helpless before these +Picts and Scots, tattoed Barbarians from the north, who overrun the +whole country and do exactly what they please. So long as they kept to +the north, the people in the south, who are the most numerous, and also +the most civilized of the Britons, took no heed of them; but now the +rascals have come as far as London, and the lazy folk in these parts +have had to wake up. Vortigern, the king, is useless for anything but +drink or women, so he sent across to the Baltic to get over some of the +North Germans, in the hope that they would come and help him. It is bad +enough to have a bear in your house, but it does not seem to me to mend +matters if you call in a pack of ferocious wolves as well. However, +nothing better could be devised, so an invitation was sent and very +promptly accepted. And it is here that your humble friend appears upon +the scene. In the course of my amber trading I had learned the Saxon +speech, and so I was sent down in all haste to the Kentish shore that I +might be there when our new allies came. I arrived there on the very day +when their first vessel appeared, and it is of my adventures that I +wish to tell you. It is perfectly clear to me that the landing of these +warlike Germans in England will prove to be an event of historical +importance, and so your inquisitive mind will not feel wearied if I +treat the matter in some detail. + +It was, then, upon the day of Mercury, immediately following the Feast +of Our Blessed Lord's Ascension, that I found myself upon the south bank +of the river Thames, at the point where it opens into a wide estuary. +There is an island there named Thanet, which was the spot chosen for the +landfall of our visitors. Sure enough, I had no sooner ridden up than +there was a great red ship, the first as it seems of three, coming in +under full sail. The white horse, which is the ensign of these rovers, +was hanging from her topmast, and she appeared to be crowded with +men. The sun was shining brightly, and the great scarlet ship, with +snow-white sails and a line of gleaming shields slung over her side, +made as fair a picture on that blue expanse as one would wish to see. + +I pushed off at once in a boat, because it had been arranged that none +of the Saxons should land until the king had come down to speak with +their leaders. Presently I was under the ship, which had a gilded dragon +in the bows, and a tier of oars along either side. As I looked up, there +was a row of helmeted heads looking down at me, and among them I saw, to +my great surprise and pleasure, that of Eric the Swart, with whom I do +business at Venta every year. He greeted me heartily when I reached the +deck, and became at once my guide, friend, and counsellor. This helped +me greatly with these Barbarians, for it is their nature that they are +very cold and aloof unless one of their own number can vouch for you, +after which they are very hearty and hospitable. Try as they will, they +find it hard, however, to avoid a certain suggestion of condescension, +and in the baser sort, of contempt, when they are dealing with a +foreigner. + +It was a great stroke of luck meeting Eric, for he was able to give me +some idea of how things stood before I was shown into the presence of +Kenna, the leader of this particular ship. The crew, as I learned from +him, was entirely made up of three tribes or families--those of Kenna, +of Lanc, and of Hasta. Each of these tribes gets its name by putting the +letters "ing" after the name of the chief, so that the people on +board would describe themselves as Kennings, Lancings, and Hastings. I +observed in the Baltic that the villages were named after the family who +lived in them, each keeping to itself, so that I have no doubt if these +fellows get a footing on shore, we shall see settlements with names like +these rising up among the British towns. + +The greater part of the men were sturdy fellows with red, yellow, or +brown hair, mostly the latter. To my surprise, I saw several women among +them. Eric, in answer to my question, explained that they always take +their women with them so far as they can, and that instead of finding +them an incumbrance as our Roman dames would be, they look upon them +as helpmates and advisers. Of course, I remembered afterwards that our +excellent and accurate Tacitus has remarked upon this characteristic of +the Germans. All laws in the tribes are decided by votes, and a vote has +not yet been given to the women, but many are in favour of it, and it +is thought that woman and man may soon have the same power in the State, +though many of the women themselves are opposed to such an innovation. +I observed to Eric that it was fortunate there were several women on +board, as they could keep each other company; but he answered that +the wives of chiefs had no desire to know the wives of the inferior +officers, and that both of them combined against the more common women, +so that any companionship was out of the question. He pointed as he +spoke to Editha, the wife of Kenna, a red-faced, elderly woman, who +walked among the others, her chin in the air, taking no more notice than +if they did not exist. + +Whilst I was talking to my friend Eric, a sudden altercation broke out +upon the deck, and a great number of the men paused in their work, and +flocked towards the spot with faces which showed that they were deeply +interested in the matter. Eric and I pushed our way among the others, +for I was very anxious to see as much as I could of the ways and manners +of these Barbarians. A quarrel had broken out about a child, a little +blue-eyed fellow with curly yellow hair, who appeared to be greatly +amused by the hubbub of which he was the cause. On one side of him stood +a white-bearded old man, of very majestic aspect, who signified by his +gestures that he claimed the lad for himself, while on the other was a +thin, earnest, anxious person, who strongly objected to the boy being +taken from him. Eric whispered in my ear that the old man was the tribal +high priest, who was the official sacrificer to their great god Woden, +whilst the other was a man who took somewhat different views, not upon +Woden, but upon the means by which he should be worshipped. The majority +of the crew were on the side of the old priest; but a certain number, +who liked greater liberty of worship, and to invent their own prayers +instead of always repeating the official ones, followed the lead of the +younger man. The difference was too deep and too old to be healed among +the grown men, but each had a great desire to impress their view upon +the children. This was the reason why these two were now so furious with +each other, and the argument between them ran so high that several of +their followers on either side had drawn the short saxes, or knives +from which their name of Saxon is derived, when a burly, red-headed man +pushed his way through the throng, and in a voice of thunder brought the +controversy to an end. + +"You priests, who argue about the things which no man can know, are more +trouble aboard this ship than all the dangers of the sea," he cried. +"Can you not be content with worshipping Woden, over which we are all +agreed, and not make so much of those small points upon which we may +differ? If there is all this fuss about the teaching of the children, +then I shall forbid either of you to teach them, and they must be +content with as much as they can learn from their mothers." + +The two angry teachers walked away with discontented faces; and +Kenna--for it was he who spoke--ordered that a whistle should be +sounded, and that the crew should assemble. I was pleased with the free +bearing of these people, for though this was their greatest chief, they +showed none of the exaggerated respect which soldiers of a legion might +show to the Praetor, but met him on a respectful equality, which showed +how highly they rated their own manhood. + +From our Roman standard, his remarks to his men would seem very wanting +in eloquence, for there were no graces nor metaphors to be found in +them, and yet they were short, strong and to the point. At any rate it +was very clear that they were to the minds of his hearers. He began by +reminding them that they had left their own country because the land was +all taken up, and that there was no use returning there, since there was +no place where they could dwell as free and independent men. This island +of Britain was but sparsely inhabited, and there was a chance that every +one of them would be able to found a home of his own. + +"You, Whitta," he said, addressing some of them by name, "you will found +a Whitting hame, and you, Bucka, we shall see you in a Bucking hame, +where your children, and your children's children will bless you for the +broad acres which your valour will have gained for them." There was no +word of glory or of honour in his speech, but he said that he was aware +that they would do their duty, on which they all struck their swords +upon their shields so that the Britons on the beach could hear the +clang. Then, his eyes falling upon me, he asked me whether I was the +messenger from Vortigern, and on my answering, he bid me follow him +into his cabin, where Lanc and Hasta the other chiefs were waiting for a +council. + +Picture me, then, my dear Crassus, in a very low-roofed cabin, with +these three huge Barbarians seated round me. Each was clad in some sort +of saffron tunic, with chain-mail shirts over it, and helmets with the +horns of oxen on either side, laid upon the table before them. Like most +of the Saxon chiefs, their beards were shaved, but they wore their hair +long and their huge light-coloured moustaches drooped down on to their +shoulders. They are gentle, slow, and somewhat heavy in their bearing, +but I can well fancy that their fury is the more terrible when it does +arise. + +Their minds seem to be of a very practical and positive nature, for they +at once began to ask me a series of questions upon the numbers of the +Britons, the resources of the kingdom, the conditions of its trade, and +other such subjects. They then set to work arguing over the information +which I had given, and became so absorbed in their own contention that I +believe there were times when they forgot my presence. Everything, after +due discussion, was decided between them by vote, the one who found +himself in the minority always submitting, though sometimes with a very +bad grace. Indeed, on one occasion Lanc, who usually differed from the +others, threatened to refer the matter to the general vote of the whole +crew. There was a constant conflict in the point of view; for whereas +Kenna and Hasta were anxious to extend the Saxon power, and to make it +greater in the eyes of the world, Lanc was of opinion that they should +give less thought to conquest and more to the comfort and advancement of +their followers. At the same time it seemed to me that really Lanc was +the more combative of the three; so much so that, even in time of peace, +he could not forego this contest with his own brethren. Neither of the +others seemed very fond of him, for they were each, as was easy to +see, proud of their chieftainship, and anxious to use their authority, +referring continually to those noble ancestors from whom it was derived; +while Lanc, though he was equally well born, took the view of the common +men upon every occasion, claiming that the interests of the many were +superior to the privileges of the few. In a word, Crassus, if you +could imagine a free-booting Gracchus on one side, and two piratical +Patricians upon the other, you would understand the effect which my +companions produced upon me. + +There was one peculiarity which I observed in their conversation which +soothed me very much. I am fond of these Britons, among whom I have +spent so much of my life, and I wish them well. It was very pleasing, +therefore, to notice that these men insisted upon it in their +conversation that the whole object of their visit was the good of the +Islanders. Any prospect of advantage to themselves was pushed into the +background. I was not clear that these professions could be made to +agree with the speech in which Kenna had promised a hundred hides of +land to every man on the ship; but on my making this remark, the three +chiefs seemed very surprised and hurt by my suspicions, and explained +very plausibly that, as the Britons needed them as a guard, they +could not aid them better than by settling on the soil, and so being +continually at hand in order to help them. In time, they said, they +hoped to raise and train the natives to such a point that they would be +able to look after themselves. Lanc spoke with some degree of eloquence +upon the nobleness of the mission which they had undertaken, and the +others clattered their cups of mead (a jar of that unpleasant drink was +on the table) in token of their agreement. + +I observed also how much interested, and how very earnest and intolerant +these Barbarians were in the matter of religion. Of Christianity they +knew nothing, so that although they were aware that the Britons were +Christians, they had not a notion of what their creed really was. Yet +without examination they started by taking it for granted that their +own worship of Woden was absolutely right, and that therefore this +other creed must be absolutely wrong. "This vile religion," "This sad +superstition," and "This grievous error," were among the phrases which +they used towards it. Instead of expressing pity for any one who had +been misinformed upon so serious a question, their feelings were those +of anger, and they declared most earnestly that they would spare +no pains to set the matter right, fingering the hilts of their long +broad-swords as they said so. + +Well, my dear Crassus, you will have had enough of me and of my Saxons. +I have given you a short sketch of these people and their ways. Since +I began this letter, I have visited the two other ships which have come +in, and as I find the same characteristics among the people on board +them, I cannot doubt that they lie deeply in the race. For the rest, +they are brave, hardy, and very pertinacious in all that they undertake; +whereas the Britons, though a great deal more spirited, have not the +same steadiness of purpose, their quicker imaginations suggesting always +some other course, and their more fiery passions being succeeded by +reaction. When I looked from the deck of the first Saxon ship, and saw +the swaying excited multitude of Britons on the beach, contrasting them +with the intent, silent men who stood beside me, it seemed to me more +than ever dangerous to call in such allies. So strongly did I feel it +that I turned to Kenna, who was also looking towards the beach. + +"You will own this island before you have finished," said I. + +His eyes sparkled as he gazed. "Perhaps," he cried; and then suddenly +collecting himself and thinking that he had said too much, he added-- + +"A temporary occupation--nothing more." + + + + +THE HOME-COMING + + +In the spring of the year 528, a small brig used to run as a passenger +boat between Chalcedon on the Asiatic shore and Constantinople. On the +morning in question, which was that of the feast of Saint George, the +vessel was crowded with excursionists who were bound for the great city +in order to take part in the religious and festive celebrations which +marked the festival of the Megalo-martyr, one of the most choice +occasions in the whole vast hagiology of the Eastern Church. The day was +fine and the breeze light, so that the passengers in their holiday mood +were able to enjoy without a qualm the many objects of interest which +marked the approach to the greatest and most beautiful capital in the +world. + +On the right, as they sped up the narrow strait, there stretched the +Asiatic shore, sprinkled with white villages and with numerous villas +peeping out from the woods which adorned it. In front of them, the +Prince's Islands, rising as green as emeralds out of the deep sapphire +blue of the Sea of Marmora, obscured for the moment the view of the +capital. As the brig rounded these, the great city burst suddenly upon +their sight, and a murmur of admiration and wonder rose from the crowded +deck. Tier above tier it rose, white and glittering, a hundred brazen +roofs and gilded statues gleaming in the sun, with high over all the +magnificent shining cupola of Saint Sophia. Seen against a cloudless +sky, it was the city of a dream-too delicate, too airily lovely for +earth. + +In the prow of the small vessel were two travellers of singular +appearance. The one was a very beautiful boy, ten or twelve years of +age, swarthy, clear-cut, with dark, curling hair and vivacious black +eyes, full of intelligence and of the joy of living. The other was an +elderly man, gaunt-faced and grey-bearded, whose stern features were lit +up by a smile as he observed the excitement and interest with which his +young companion viewed the beautiful distant city and the many vessels +which thronged the narrow strait. + +"See! see!" cried the lad. "Look at the great red ships which sail out +from yonder harbour. Surely, your holiness, they are the greatest of all +ships in the world." + +The old man, who was the abbot of the monastery of Saint Nicephorus in +Antioch, laid his hand upon the boy's shoulder. + +"Be wary, Leon, and speak less loudly, for until we have seen your +mother we should keep ourselves secret. As to the red galleys they are +indeed as large as any, for they are the Imperial ships of war, which +come forth from the harbour of Theodosius. Round yonder green point is +the Golden Horn, where the merchant ships are moored. But now, Leon, if +you follow the line of buildings past the great church, you will see +a long row of pillars fronting the sea. It marks the Palace of the +Caesars." + +The boy looked at it with fixed attention. "And my mother is there," he +whispered. + +"Yes, Leon, your mother the Empress Theodora and her husband the great +Justinian dwell in yonder palace." + +The boy looked wistfully up into the old man's face. + +"Are you sure, Father Luke, that my mother will indeed be glad to see +me?" + +The abbot turned away his face to avoid those questioning eyes. + +"We cannot tell, Leon. We can only try. If it should prove that there is +no place for you, then there is always a welcome among the brethren of +Saint Nicephorus." + +"Why did you not tell my mother that we were coming, Father Luke? Why +did you not wait until you had her command?" + +"At a distance, Leon, it would be easy to refuse you. An Imperial +messenger would have stopped us. But when she sees you, Leon--your +eyes, so like her own, your face, which carries memories of one whom she +loved--then, if there be a woman's heart within her bosom, she will take +you into it. They say that the Emperor can refuse her nothing. They have +no child of their own. There is a great future before you, Leon. When it +comes, do not forget the poor brethren of Saint Nicephorus, who took you +in when you had no friend in the world." + +The old abbot spoke cheerily, but it was easy to see from his anxious +countenance that the nearer he came to the capital the more doubtful +did his errand appear. What had seemed easy and natural from the quiet +cloisters of Antioch became dubious and dark now that the golden domes +of Constantinople glittered so close at hand. Ten years before, a +wretched woman, whose very name was an offence throughout the eastern +world where she was as infamous for her dishonour as famous for her +beauty, had come to the monastery gate, and had persuaded the monks to +take charge of her infant son, the child of her shame. There he had been +ever since. But she, Theodora, the harlot, returning to the capital, had +by the strangest turn of Fortune's wheel caught the fancy and finally +the enduring love of Justinian the heir to the throne. Then on the death +of his uncle Justin, the young man had become the greatest monarch upon +the earth, and had raised Theodora to be not only his wife and Empress, +but to be absolute ruler with powers equal to and independent of his +own. And she, the polluted one, had risen to the dignity, had cut +herself sternly away from all that related to her past life, and had +shown signs already of being a great Queen, stronger and wiser than her +husband, but fierce, vindictive, and unbending, a firm support to her +friends, but a terror to her foes. This was the woman to whom the Abbot +Luke of Antioch was bringing Leon, her forgotten son. If ever her mind +strayed back to the days when, abandoned by her lover Ecebolus, the +Governor of the African Pentapolis, she had made her way on foot through +Asia Minor, and left her infant with the monks, it was only to persuade +herself that the brethren cloistered far from the world would never +identify Theodora the Empress with Theodora the dissolute wanderer, and +that the fruits of her sin would be for ever concealed from her Imperial +husband. + +The little brig had now rounded the point of the Acropolis, and the +long blue stretch of the Golden Horn lay before it. The high wall of +Theodosius lined the whole harbour, but a narrow verge of land had been +left between it and the water's edge to serve as a quay. The vessel +ran alongside near the Neorion Gate, and the passengers, after a short +scrutiny from the group of helmeted guards who lounged beside it, were +allowed to pass through into the great city. + +The abbot, who had made several visits to Constantinople upon the +business of his monastery, walked with the assured step of one who +knows his ground; while the boy, alarmed and yet pleased by the rush +of people, the roar and glitter of passing chariots, and the vista of +magnificent buildings, held tightly to the loose gown of his guide, +while staring eagerly about him in every direction. Passing through the +steep and narrow streets which led up from the water, they emerged into +the open space which surrounds the magnificent pile of Saint Sophia, the +great church begun by Constantine, hallowed by Saint Chrysostom, and now +the seat of the Patriarch, and the very centre of the Eastern Church. +Only with many crossings and genuflections did the pious abbot succeed +in passing the revered shrine of his religion, and hurried on to his +difficult task. + +Having passed Saint Sophia, the two travellers crossed the marble-paved +Augusteum, and saw upon their right the gilded gates of the hippodrome +through which a vast crowd of people was pressing, for though the +morning had been devoted to the religious ceremony, the afternoon was +given over to secular festivities. So great was the rush of the populace +that the two strangers had some difficulty in disengaging themselves +from the stream and reaching the huge arch of black marble which formed +the outer gate of the palace. Within they were fiercely ordered to halt +by a gold-crested and magnificent sentinel who laid his shining spear +across their breasts until his superior officer should give them +permission to pass. The abbot had been warned, however, that all +obstacles would give way if he mentioned the name of Basil the eunuch, +who acted as chamberlain of the palace and also as Parakimomen--a +high office which meant that he slept at the door of the Imperial +bed-chamber. The charm worked wonderfully, for at the mention of that +potent name the Protosphathaire, or Head of the Palace Guards, who +chanced to be upon the spot, immediately detached one of his soldiers +with instructions to convoy the two strangers into the presence of the +chamberlain. + +Passing in succession a middle guard and an inner guard, the travellers +came at last into the palace proper, and followed their majestic guide +from chamber to chamber, each more wonderful than the last. Marbles and +gold, velvet and silver, glittering mosaics, wonderful carvings, ivory +screens, curtains of Armenian tissue and of Indian silk, damask from +Arabia, and amber from the Baltic--all these things merged themselves +in the minds of the two simple provincials, until their eyes ached and +their senses reeled before the blaze and the glory of this, the most +magnificent of the dwellings of man. Finally, a pair of curtains, +crusted with gold, were parted, and their guide handed them over to a +negro mute who stood within. A heavy, fat, brown-skinned man, with a +large, flabby, hairless face was pacing up and down the small apartment, +and he turned upon them as they entered with an abominable and +threatening smile. His loose lips and pendulous cheeks were those of +a gross old woman, but above them there shone a pair of dark malignant +eyes, full of fierce intensity of observation and judgment. + +"You have entered the palace by using my name," he said. "It is one of +my boasts that any of the populace can approach me in this way. But it +is not fortunate for those who take advantage of it without due cause." +Again he smiled a smile which made the frightened boy cling tightly to +the loose serge skirts of the abbot. + +But the ecclesiastic was a man of courage. Undaunted by the sinister +appearance of the great chamberlain, or by the threat which lay in his +words, he laid his hand upon his young companion's shoulder and faced +the eunuch with a confidential smile. + +"I have no doubt, your excellency," said he, "that the importance of my +mission has given me the right to enter the palace. The only thing which +troubles me is whether it may not be so important as to forbid me from +broaching it to you, or indeed, to anybody save the Empress Theodora, +since it is she only whom it concerns." + +The eunuch's thick eyebrows bunched together over his vicious eyes. + +"You must make good those words," he said. "If my gracious master--the +ever-glorious Emperor Justinian--does not disdain to take me into his +most intimate confidence in all things, it would be strange if there +were any subject within your knowledge which I might not hear. You +are, as I gather from your garb and bearing, the abbot of some Asiatic +monastery?" + +"You are right, your excellency, I am the abbot of the Monastery of St. +Nicephorus in Antioch. But I repeat that I am assured that what I have +to say is for the ear of the Empress Theodora only." + +The eunuch was evidently puzzled, and his curiosity aroused by the old +man's persistence. He came nearer, his heavy face thrust forward, his +flabby brown hands, like two sponges, resting upon the table of yellow +jasper before him. + +"Old man," said he, "there is no secret which concerns the Empress which +may not be told to me. But if you refuse to speak, it is certain that +you will never see her. Why should I admit you, unless I know your +errand? How should I know that you are not a Manichean heretic with +a poniard in your bosom, longing for the blood of the mother of the +Church?" + +The abbot hesitated no longer. "If there be a mistake in the matter, +then on your head be it," said he. "Know then that this lad Leon is the +son of Theodora the Empress, left by her in our monastery within a month +of his birth ten years ago. This papyrus which I hand you will show you +that what I say is beyond all question or doubt." + +The eunuch Basil took the paper, but his eyes were fixed upon the boy, +and his features showed a mixture of amazement at the news that he +had received, and of cunning speculation as to how he could turn it to +profit. + +"Indeed, he is the very image of the Empress," he muttered; and then, +with sudden suspicion, "Is it not the chance of this likeness which has +put the scheme into your head, old man?" + +"There is but one way to answer that," said the abbot. "It is to ask the +Empress herself whether what I say is not true, and to give her the glad +tidings that her boy is alive and well." + +The tone of confidence, together with the testimony of the papyrus, +and the boy's beautiful face, removed the last shadow of doubt from the +eunuch's mind. Here was a great fact; but what use could he make of it? +Above all, what advantage could he draw from it? He stood with his fat +chin in his hand, turning it over in his cunning brain. + +"Old man," said he at last, "to how many have you told this secret?" + +"To no one in the whole world," the other answered. "There is Deacon +Bardas at the monastery and myself. No one else knows anything." + +"You are sure of this?" + +"Absolutely certain." + +The eunuch had made up his mind. If he alone of all men in the palace +knew of this event, he would have a powerful hold over his masterful +mistress. He was certain that Justinian the Emperor knew nothing of +this. It would be a shock to him. It might even alienate his affections +from his wife. She might care to take precautions to prevent him from +knowing. And if he, Basil the eunuch, was her confederate in those +precautions, then how very close it must draw him to her. All this +flashed through his mind as he stood, the papyrus in his hand, looking +at the old man and the boy. + +"Stay here," said he. "I will be with you again." With a swift rustle of +his silken robes he swept from the chamber. + +A few minutes had elapsed when a curtain at the end of the room was +pushed aside, and the eunuch, reappearing, held it back, doubling his +unwieldy body into a profound obeisance as he did so. Through the gap +came a small alert woman, clad in golden tissue, with a loose outer +mantle and shoes of the Imperial purple. That colour alone showed +that she could be none other than the Empress; but the dignity of her +carriage, the fierce authority of her magnificent dark eyes, and the +perfect beauty of her haughty face, all proclaimed that it could only be +that Theodora who, in spite of her lowly origin, was the most majestic +as well as the most maturely lovely of all the women in her kingdom. +Gone now were the buffoon tricks which the daughter of Acacius the +bearward had learned in the amphitheatre; gone too was the light charm +of the wanton, and what was left was the worthy mate of a great king, +the measured dignity of one who was every inch an empress. + +Disregarding the two men, Theodora walked up to the boy, placed her two +white hands upon his shoulders, and looked with a long questioning +gaze, a gaze which began with hard suspicion and ended with tender +recognition, into those large lustrous eyes which were the very +reflection of her own. At first the sensitive lad was chilled by the +cold intent question of the look; but as it softened, his own spirit +responded, until suddenly, with a cry of "Mother! mother!" he cast +himself into her arms, his hands locked round her neck, his face buried +in her bosom. Carried away by the sudden natural outburst of emotion, +her own arms tightened round the lad's figure, and she strained him +for an instant to her heart. Then, the strength of the Empress gaining +instant command over the temporary weakness of the mother, she pushed +him back from her, and waved that they should leave her to herself. The +slaves in attendance hurried the two visitors from the room. Basil the +eunuch lingered, looking down at his mistress, who had thrown herself +upon a damask couch, her lips white and her bosom heaving with the +tumult of her emotion. She glanced up and met the chancellor's crafty +gaze, her woman's instinct reading the threat that lurked within it. + +"I am in your power," she said. "The Emperor must never know of this." + +"I am your slave," said the eunuch, with his ambiguous smile. "I am an +instrument in your hand. If it is your will that the Emperor should know +nothing, then who is to tell him?" + +"But the monk, the boy? What are we to do?" + +"There is only one way for safety," said the eunuch. + +She looked at him with horrified eyes. His spongy hands were pointing +down to the floor. There was an underground world to this beautiful +palace, a shadow that was ever close to the light, a region of dimly-lit +passages, of shadowed corners, of noiseless, tongueless slaves, of +sudden, sharp screams in the darkness. To this the eunuch was pointing. + +A terrible struggle rent her breast. The beautiful boy was hers, flesh +of her flesh, bone of her bone. She knew it beyond all question or +doubt. It was her one child, and her whole heart went out to him. But +Justinian! She knew the Emperor's strange limitations. Her career in the +past was forgotten. He had swept it all aside by special Imperial decree +published throughout the Empire, as if she were new-born through the +power of his will, and her association with his person. But they were +childless, and this sight of one which was not his own would cut him to +the quick. He could dismiss her infamous past from his mind, but if it +took the concrete shape of this beautiful child, then how could he wave +it aside as if it had never been? All her instincts and her intimate +knowledge of the man told her that even her charm, and her influence +might fail under such circumstances to save her from ruin. Her divorce +would be as easy to him as her elevation had been. She was balanced +upon a giddy pinnacle, the highest in the world, and yet the higher the +deeper the fall. Everything that earth could give was now at her feet. +Was she to risk the losing of it all--for what? For a weakness which was +unworthy of an Empress, for a foolish new-born spasm of love, for that +which had no existence within her in the morning? How could she be so +foolish as to risk losing such a substance for such a shadow? + +"Leave it to me," said the brown watchful face above her. + +"Must it be--death?" + +"There is no real safety outside. But if your heart is too merciful, +then by the loss of sight and speech--" + +She saw in her mind the white-hot iron approaching those glorious eyes, +and she shuddered at the thought. + +"No, no! Better death than that!" + +"Let it be death then. You are wise, great Empress, for there only is +real safety and assurance of silence." + +"And the monk?" + +"Him also." + +"But the Holy Synod? He is a tonsured priest. What would the Patriarch +do?" + +"Silence his babbling tongue. Then let them do what they will. How are +we of the palace to know that this conspirator, taken with a dagger in +his sleeve, is really what he says?" + +Again she shuddered and shrank down among the cushions. + +"Speak not of it, think not of it," said the eunuch. "Say only that you +leave it in my hands. Nay, then, if you cannot say it, do but nod your +head, and I take it as your signal." + +In that moment there flashed before Theodora's mind a vision of all +her enemies, of all those who envied her rise, of all whose hatred +and contempt would rise into a clamour of delight could they see the +daughter of the bearward hurled down again into that abyss from which +she had been dragged. Her face hardened, her lips tightened, her little +hands clenched in the agony of her thought. "Do it!" she said. + +In an instant, with a terrible smile, the messenger of death hurried +from the room. She groaned aloud, and buried herself yet deeper amid the +silken cushions, clutching them frantically with convulsed and twitching +hands. + +The eunuch wasted no time, for this deed, once done, he became--save +for some insignificant monk in Asia Minor, whose fate would soon be +sealed--the only sharer of Theodora's secret, and therefore the only +person who could curb and bend that most imperious nature. Hurrying into +the chamber where the visitors were waiting, he gave a sinister signal, +only too well known in those iron days. In an instant the black mutes in +attendance seized the old man and the boy, pushing them swiftly down a +passage and into a meaner portion of the palace, where the heavy smell +of luscious cooking proclaimed the neighbourhood of the kitchens. A side +corridor led to a heavily-barred iron door, and this in turn opened upon +a steep flight of stone steps, feebly illuminated by the glimmer of wall +lamps. At the head and foot stood a mute sentinel like an ebony statue, +and below, along the dusky and forbidding passages from which the cells +opened, a succession of niches in the wall were each occupied by a +similar guardian. The unfortunate visitors were dragged brutally down +a number of stone-flagged and dismal corridors until they descended +another long stair which led so deeply into the earth that the damp +feeling in the heavy air and the drip of water all round showed that +they had come down to the level of the sea. Groans and cries, like those +of sick animals, from the various grated doors which they passed showed +how many there were who spent their whole lives in this humid and +poisonous atmosphere. + +At the end of this lowest passage was a door which opened into a single +large vaulted room. It was devoid of furniture, but in the centre was +a large and heavy wooden board clamped with iron. This lay upon a rude +stone parapet, engraved with inscriptions beyond the wit of the eastern +scholars, for this old well dated from a time before the Greeks founded +Byzantium, when men of Chaldea and Phoenicia built with huge unmortared +blocks, far below the level of the town of Constantine. The door was +closed, and the eunuch beckoned to the slaves that they should remove +the slab which covered the well of death. The frightened boy screamed +and clung to the abbot, who, ashy-pale and trembling, was pleading hard +to melt the heart of the ferocious eunuch. + +"Surely, surely, you would not slay the innocent boy!" he cried. "What +has he done? Was it his fault that he came here? I alone--I and Deacon +Bardas--are to blame. Punish us, if some one must indeed be punished. +We are old. It is today or tomorrow with us. But he is so young and so +beautiful, with all his life before him. Oh, sir! oh, your excellency, +you would not have the heart to hurt him!" + +He threw himself down and clutched at the eunuch's knees, while the boy +sobbed piteously and cast horror-stricken eyes at the black slaves who +were tearing the wooden slab from the ancient parapet beneath. The only +answer which the chamberlain gave to the frantic pleadings of the abbot +was to take a stone which lay on the coping of the well and toss it +in. It could be heard clattering against the old, damp, mildewed walls, +until it fell with a hollow boom into some far distant subterranean +pool. Then he again motioned with his hands, and the black slaves threw +themselves upon the boy and dragged him away from his guardian. So +shrill was his clamour that no one heard the approach of the Empress. +With a swift rush she had entered the room, and her arms were round her +son. + +"It shall not be! It cannot be!" she cried. "No, no, my darling! my +darling! they shall do you no hurt. I was mad to think of it--mad and +wicked to dream of it. Oh, my sweet boy! To think that your mother might +have had your blood upon her head!" + +The eunuch's brows were gathered together at this failure of his plans, +at this fresh example of feminine caprice. + +"Why kill them, great lady, if it pains your gracious heart?" said he. +"With a knife and a branding iron they can be disarmed for ever." + +She paid no attention to his words. "Kiss me, Leon!" she cried. "Just +once let me feel my own child's soft lips rest upon mine. Now again! No, +no more, or I shall weaken for what I have still to say and still to do. +Old man, you are very near a natural grave, and I cannot think from +your venerable aspect that words of falsehood would come readily to your +lips. You have indeed kept my secret all these years, have you not?" + +"I have in very truth, great Empress. I swear to you by Saint +Nicephorus, patron of our house, that, save old Deacon Bardas, there is +none who knows." + +"Then let your lips still be sealed. If you have kept faith in the past, +I see no reason why you should be a babbler in the future. And you, +Leon"--she bent her wonderful eyes with a strange mixture of sternness +and of love upon the boy, "can I trust you? Will you keep a secret +which could never help you, but would be the ruin and downfall of your +mother?" + +"Oh, mother, I would not hurt you! I swear that I will be silent." + +"Then I trust you both. Such provision will be made for your monastery +and for your own personal comforts as will make you bless the day you +came to my palace. Now you may go. I wish never to see you again. If +I did, you might find me in a softer mood, or in a harder, and the +one would lead to my undoing, the other to yours. But if by whisper or +rumour I have reason to think that you have failed me, then you and your +monks and your monastery will have such an end as will be a lesson for +ever to those who would break faith with their Empress." + +"I will never speak," said the old abbot; "neither will Deacon +Bardas; neither will Leon. For all three I can answer. But there are +others--these slaves, the chancellor. We may be punished for another's +fault." + +"Not so," said the Empress, and her eyes were like flints. "These slaves +are voiceless; nor have they any means to tell those secrets which they +know. As to you, Basil--" She raised her white hand with the same deadly +gesture which he had himself used so short a time before. The black +slaves were on him like hounds on a stag. + +"Oh, my gracious mistress, dear lady, what is this? What is this? You +cannot mean it!" he screamed, in his high, cracked voice. "Oh, what have +I done? Why should I die?" + +"You have turned me against my own. You have goaded me to slay my own +son. You have intended to use my secret against me. I read it in your +eyes from the first. Cruel, murderous villain, taste the fate which +you have yourself given to so many others. This is your doom. I have +spoken." + +The old man and the boy hurried in horror from the vault. As they +glanced back they saw the erect inflexible, shimmering, gold-clad figure +of the Empress. Beyond they had a glimpse of the green-scummed lining of +the well, and of the great red open mouth of the eunuch, as he screamed +and prayed while every tug of the straining slaves brought him one step +nearer to the brink. With their hands over their ears they rushed away, +but even so they heard that last woman-like shriek, and then the heavy +plunge far down in the dark abysses of the earth. + + + + +THE RED STAR + + +The house of Theodosius, the famous eastern merchant, was in the best +part of Constantinople at the Sea Point which is near the Church of +Saint Demetrius. Here he would entertain in so princely a fashion that +even the Emperor Maurice had been known to come privately from the +neighbouring Bucoleon palace in order to join in the revelry. On the +night in question, however, which was the fourth of November in the +year of our Lord 630, his numerous guests had retired early, and there +remained only two intimates, both of them successful merchants like +himself, who sat with him over their wine on the marble verandah of his +house, whence on the one side they could see the lights of the shipping +in the Sea of Marmora, and on the other the beacons which marked out the +course of the Bosphorus. Immediately at their feet lay a narrow strait +of water, with the low, dark loom of the Asiatic hills beyond. A thin +haze hid the heavens, but away to the south a single great red star +burned sullenly in the darkness. + +The night was cool, the light was soothing, and the three men talked +freely, letting their minds drift back into the earlier days when they +had staked their capital, and often their lives, on the ventures which +had built up their present fortunes. The host spoke of his long journeys +in North Africa, the land of the Moors; how he had travelled, keeping +the blue sea ever upon his right, until he had passed the ruins of +Carthage, and so on and ever on until a great tidal ocean beat upon a +yellow strand before him, while on the right he could see the high rock +across the waves which marked the Pillars of Hercules. His talk was +of dark-skinned bearded men, of lions, and of monstrous serpents. Then +Demetrius, the Cilician, an austere man of sixty, told how he also had +built up his mighty wealth. He spoke of a journey over the Danube and +through the country of the fierce Huns, until he and his friends had +found themselves in the mighty forest of Germany, on the shores of the +great river which is called the Elbe. His stories were of huge men, +sluggish of mind, but murderous in their cups, of sudden midnight broils +and nocturnal flights, of villages buried in dense woods, of bloody +heathen sacrifices, and of the bears and wolves who haunted the forest +paths. So the two elder men capped each other's stories and awoke each +other's memories, while Manuel Ducas, the young merchant of gold and +ostrich feathers, whose name was already known all over the Levant, sat +in silence and listened to their talk. At last, however, they called +upon him also for an anecdote, and leaning his cheek upon his elbow, +with his eyes fixed upon the great red star which burned in the south, +the younger man began to speak. + +"It is the sight of that star which brings a story into my mind," said +he. "I do not know its name. Old Lascaris the astronomer would tell me +if I asked, but I have no desire to know. Yet at this time of the year +I always look out for it, and I never fail to see it burning in the same +place. But it seems to me that it is redder and larger than it was. + +"It was some ten years ago that I made an expedition into Abyssinia, +where I traded to such good effect that I set forth on my return with +more than a hundred camel-loads of skins, ivory, gold, spices, and other +African produce. I brought them to the sea-coast at Arsinoe, and carried +them up the Arabian Gulf in five of the small boats of the country. +Finally, I landed near Saba, which is a starting-point for caravans, +and, having assembled my camels and hired a guard of forty men from the +wandering Arabs, I set forth for Macoraba. From this point, which is +the sacred city of the idolaters of those parts, one can always join +the large caravans which go north twice a year to Jerusalem and the +sea-coast of Syria. + +"Our route was a long and weary one. On our left hand was the Arabian +Gulf, lying like a pool of molten metal under the glare of day, but +changing to blood-red as the sun sank each evening behind the distant +African coast. On our right was a monstrous desert which extends, so far +as I know, across the whole of Arabia and away to the distant kingdom +of the Persians. For many days we saw no sign of life save our own long, +straggling line of laden camels with their tattered, swarthy guardians. +In these deserts the soft sand deadens the footfall of the animals, so +that their silent progress day after day through a scene which never +changes, and which is itself noiseless, becomes at last like a strange +dream. Often as I rode behind my caravan, and gazed at the grotesque +figures which bore my wares in front of me, I found it hard to believe +that it was indeed reality, and that it was I, I, Manuel Ducas, who +lived near the Theodosian Gate of Constantinople, and shouted for the +Green at the hippodrome every Sunday afternoon, who was there in so +strange a land and with such singular comrades. + +"Now and then, far out at sea, we caught sight of the white triangular +sails of the boats which these people use, but as they are all pirates, +we were very glad to be safely upon shore. Once or twice, too, by the +water's edge we saw dwarfish creatures-one could scarcely say if they +were men or monkeys--who burrow for homes among the seaweed, drink the +pools of brackish water, and eat what they can catch. These are the +fish-eaters, the Ichthyophagi, of whom old Herodotus talks--surely the +lowest of all the human race. Our Arabs shrank from them with horror, +for it is well known that, should you die in the desert, these little +people will settle on you like carrion crows, and leave not a bone +unpicked. They gibbered and croaked and waved their skinny arms at us +as we passed, knowing well that they could swim far out to sea if we +attempted to pursue them; for it is said that even the sharks turn with +disgust from their foul bodies. + +"We had travelled in this way for ten days, camping every evening at the +vile wells which offered a small quantity of abominable water. It was +our habit to rise very early and to travel very late, but to halt during +the intolerable heat of the afternoon, when, for want of trees, we would +crouch in the shadow of a sandhill, or, if that were wanting, behind +our own camels and merchandise, in order to escape from the insufferable +glare of the sun. On the seventh day we were near the point where one +leaves the coast in order to strike inland to Macoraba. We had concluded +our midday halt, and were just starting once more, the sun still +being so hot that we could hardly bear it, when, looking up, I saw a +remarkable sight. Standing on a hillock to our right there was a man +about forty feet high, holding in his hand a spear which was the size +of the mast of a large ship. You look surprised, my friends, and you +can therefore imagine my feelings when I saw such a sight. But my reason +soon told me that the object in front of me was really a wandering +Arab, whose form had been enormously magnified by the strange distorting +effects which the hot air of the desert is able to cause. + +"However, the actual apparition caused more alarm to my companions +than the imagined one had to me, for with a howl of dismay they shrank +together into a frightened group, all pointing and gesticulating as they +gazed at the distant figure. I then observed that the man was not alone, +but that from all the sandhills a line of turbaned heads was gazing down +upon us. The chief of the escort came running to me, and informed me +of the cause of their terror, which was that they recognized, by some +peculiarity of their headgear, that these men belonged to the tribe of +the Dilwas, the most ferocious and unscrupulous of the Bedouin, who had +evidently laid an ambuscade for us at this point with the intention of +seizing our caravan. When I thought of all my efforts in Abyssinia, of +the length of my journey and of the dangers and fatigues which I had +endured, I could not bear to think of this total disaster coming upon me +at the last instant and robbing me not only of my profits, but also of +my original outlay. It was evident, however, that the robbers were too +numerous for us to attempt to defend ourselves, and that we should be +very fortunate if we escaped with our lives. Sitting upon a packet, +therefore, I commended my soul to our blessed Saint Helena, while I +watched with despairing eyes the stealthy and menacing approach of the +Arab robbers. + +"It may have been our own good fortune, or it may have been the handsome +offering of beeswax candles--four to the pound--which I had mentally +vowed to the blessed Helena, but at that instant I heard a great outcry +of joy from among my own followers. Standing up on the packet that I +might have a better view, I was overjoyed to see a long caravan--five +hundred camels at least-with a numerous armed guard coming along the +route from Macoraba. It is, I need not tell you, the custom of all +caravans to combine their forces against the robbers of the desert, and +with the aid of these newcomers we had become the stronger party. The +marauders recognized it at once, for they vanished as if their native +sands had swallowed them. Running up to the summit of a sandhill, I was +just able to catch a glimpse of a dust-cloud whirling away across the +yellow plain, with the long necks of their camels, the flutter of their +loose garments, and the gleam of their spears breaking out from the +heart of it. So vanished the marauders. + +"Presently I found, however, that I had only exchanged one danger for +another. At first I had hoped that this new caravan might belong to some +Roman citizen, or at least to some Syrian Christian, but I found that +it was entirely Arab. The trading Arabs who are settled in the numerous +towns of Arabia are, of course, very much more peaceable than the +Bedouin of the wilderness, those sons of Ishmael of whom we read in Holy +Writ. But the Arab blood is covetous and lawless, so that when I saw +several hundred of them formed in a semi-circle round our camels, +looking with greedy eyes at my boxes of precious metals and my packets +of ostrich feathers, I feared the worst. + +"The leader of the new caravan was a man of dignified bearing and +remarkable appearance. His age I would judge to be about forty. He +had aquiline features, a noble black beard, and eyes so luminous, so +searching, and so intense that I cannot remember in all my wanderings +to have seen any which could be compared with them. To my thanks and +salutations he returned a formal bow, and stood stroking his beard and +looking in silence at the wealth which had suddenly fallen into his +power. A murmur from his followers showed the eagerness with which they +awaited the order to tall upon the plunder, and a young ruffian, who +seemed to be on intimate terms with the leader, came to his elbow and +put the desires of his companions into words. + +"'Surely, oh Revered One,' said he, 'these people and their treasure +have been delivered into our hands. When we return with it to the holy +place, who of all the Koraish will fail to see the finger of God which +has led us?' + +"But the leader shook his head. 'Nay, Ali, it may not be,' he answered. +'This man is, as I judge, a citizen of Rome, and we may not treat him as +though he were an idolater.' + +"'But he is an unbeliever,' cried the youth, fingering a great knife +which hung in his belt. 'Were I to be the judge, he would lose not only +his merchandise, but his life also, if he did not accept the faith.' + +"The older man smiled and shook his head. 'Nay, Ali; you are too +hot-headed,' said he, 'seeing that there are not as yet three hundred +faithful in the world, our hands would indeed be full if we were to take +the lives and property of all who are not with us. Forget not, dear lad, +that charity and honesty are the very nose-ring and halter of the true +faith.' + +"'Among the faithful,' said the ferocious youth. + +"'Nay, towards every one. It is the law of Allah. And yet'--here +his countenance darkened, and his eyes shone with a most sinister +light--'the day may soon come when the hour of grace is past, and woe, +then, to those who have not hearkened! Then shall the sword of Allah be +drawn, and it shall not be sheathed until the harvest is reaped. First +it shall strike the idolaters on the day when my own people and kinsmen, +the unbelieving Koraish, shall be scattered, and the three hundred and +sixty idols of the Caaba thrust out upon the dungheaps of the town. Then +shall the Caaba be the home and temple of one God only who brooks no +rival on earth or in heaven.' + +"The man's followers had gathered round him, their spears in their +hands, their ardent eyes fixed upon his face, and their dark features +convulsed with such fanatic enthusiasm as showed the hold which he had +upon their love and respect. + +"'We shall be patient,' said he; 'but some time next year, the year +after, the day may come when the great angel Gabriel shall bear me the +message that the time of words has gone by, and that the hour of the +sword has come. We are few and weak, but if it is His will, who can +stand against us? Are you of Jewish faith, stranger?' he asked. + +"I answered that I was not. + +"'The better for you,' he answered, with the same furious anger in his +swarthy face. 'First shall the idolaters fall, and then the Jews, in +that they have not known those very prophets whom they had themselves +foretold. Then last will come the turn of the Christians, who follow +indeed a true Prophet, greater than Moses or Abraham, but who have +sinned in that they have confounded a creature with the Creator. To each +in turn--idolater, Jew, and Christian--the day of reckoning will come.' + +"The ragamuffins behind him all shook their spears as he spoke. There +was no doubt about their earnestness, but when I looked at their +tattered dresses and simple arms, I could not help smiling to think of +their ambitious threats, and to picture what their fate would be upon +the day of battle before the battle-axes of our Imperial Guards, or the +spears of the heavy cavalry of the Armenian Themes. However, I need not +say that I was discreet enough to keep my thoughts to myself, as I had +no desire to be the first martyr in this fresh attack upon our blessed +faith. + +"It was now evening, and it was decided that the two caravans should +camp together--an arrangement which was the more welcome as we were by +no means sure that we had seen the last of the marauders. I had invited +the leader of the Arabs to have supper with me, and after a long +exercise of prayer with his followers he came to join me, but my attempt +at hospitality was thrown away, for he would not touch the excellent +wine which I had unpacked for him, nor would he eat any of my dainties, +contenting himself with stale bread, dried dates, and water. After this +meal we sat alone by the smouldering fire, the magnificent arch of the +heavens above us of that deep, rich blue with those gleaming, clear-cut +stars which can only be seen in that dry desert air. Our camp lay before +us, and no sound reached our ears save the dull murmur of the voices +of our companions and the occasional shrill cry of a jackal among the +sandhills around us. Face to face I sat with this strange man, the glow +of the fire beating upon his eager and imperious features and reflecting +from his passionate eyes. It was the strangest vigil, and one which will +never pass from my recollection. I have spoken with many wise and famous +men upon my travels, but never with one who left the impression of this +one. + +"And yet much of his talk was unintelligible to me, though, as you are +aware, I speak Arabian like an Arab. It rose and fell in the strangest +way. Sometimes it was the babble of a child, sometimes the incoherent +raving of a fanatic, sometimes the lofty dreams of a prophet and +philosopher. There were times when his stories of demons, of miracles, +of dreams, and of omens, were such as an old woman might tell to please +the children of an evening. There were others when, as he talked with +shining face of his converse with angels, of the intentions of the +Creator, and the end of the universe, I felt as if I were in the +company of some one more than mortal, some one who was indeed the direct +messenger of the Most High. + +"There were good reasons why he should treat me with such confidence. He +saw in me a messenger to Constantinople and to the Roman Empire. Even as +Saint Paul had brought Christianity to Europe, so he hoped that I might +carry his doctrines to my native city. Alas! be the doctrines what they +may, I fear that I am not the stuff of which Pauls are made. Yet he +strove with all his heart during that long Arabian night to bring me +over to his belief. He had with him a holy book, written, as he said, +from the dictation of an angel, which he carried in tablets of bone in +the nose-bag of a camel. Some chapters of this he read me; but, though +the precepts were usually good, the language seemed wild and fanciful. +There were times when I could scarce keep my countenance as I listened +to him. He planned out his future movements, and indeed, as he spoke, +it was hard to remember that he was only the wandering leader of an Arab +caravan, and not one of the great ones of the earth. + +"'When God has given me sufficient power, which will be within a few +years,' said he, 'I will unite all Arabia under my banner. Then I will +spread my doctrine over Syria and Egypt. When this has been done, I will +turn to Persia, and give them the choice of the true faith or the sword. +Having taken Persia, it will be easy then to overrun Asia Minor, and so +to make our way to Constantinople.' + +"I bit my lip to keep from laughing. 'And how long will it be before +your victorious troops have reached the Bosphorus?' I asked. + +"'Such things are in the hands of God, whose servants we are,' said he. +'It may be that I shall myself have passed away before these things are +accomplished, but before the days of our children are completed, all +that I have now told you will come to pass. Look at that star,' he +added, pointing to a beautiful clear planet above our heads. 'That is +the symbol of Christ. See how serene and peaceful it shines, like His +own teaching and the memory of His life. Now,' he added, turning his +outstretched hand to a dusky red star upon the horizon--the very one on +which we are gazing now--'that is my star, which tells of wrath, of war, +of a scourge upon sinners. And yet both are indeed stars, and each does +as Allah may ordain.' + +"Well, that was the experience which was called to my mind by the sight +of this star tonight. Red and angry, it still broods over the south, +even as I saw it that night in the desert. Somewhere down yonder that +man is working and striving. He may be stabbed by some brother fanatic +or slain in a tribal skirmish. If so, that is the end. But if he lives, +there was that in his eyes and in his presence which tells me that +Mahomet the son of Abdallah--for that was his name--will testify in some +noteworthy fashion to the faith that is in him." + + + + +PART II. THE SILVER MIRROR + + +Jan. 3.--This affair of White and Wotherspoon's accounts proves to be +a gigantic task. There are twenty thick ledgers to be examined and +checked. Who would be a junior partner? However, it is the first big bit +of business which has been left entirely in my hands. I must justify +it. But it has to be finished so that the lawyers may have the result in +time for the trial. Johnson said this morning that I should have to get +the last figure out before the twentieth of the month. Good Lord! Well, +have at it, and if human brain and nerve can stand the strain, I'll win +out at the other side. It means office-work from ten to five, and then a +second sitting from about eight to one in the morning. There's drama in +an accountant's life. When I find myself in the still early hours, while +all the world sleeps, hunting through column after column for those +missing figures which will turn a respected alderman into a felon, I +understand that it is not such a prosaic profession after all. + +On Monday I came on the first trace of defalcation. No heavy game hunter +ever got a finer thrill when first he caught sight of the trail of his +quarry. But I look at the twenty ledgers and think of the jungle through +which I have to follow him before I get my kill. Hard work--but rare +sport, too, in a way! I saw the fat fellow once at a City dinner, his +red face glowing above a white napkin. He looked at the little pale man +at the end of the table. He would have been pale too if he could have +seen the task that would be mine. + +Jan. 6.--What perfect nonsense it is for doctors to prescribe rest when +rest is out of the question! Asses! They might as well shout to a man +who has a pack of wolves at his heels that what he wants is absolute +quiet. My figures must be out by a certain date; unless they are so, I +shall lose the chance of my lifetime, so how on earth am I to rest? I'll +take a week or so after the trial. + +Perhaps I was myself a fool to go to the doctor at all. But I get +nervous and highly-strung when I sit alone at my work at night. It's not +a pain--only a sort of fullness of the head with an occasional mist over +the eyes. I thought perhaps some bromide, or chloral, or something of +the kind might do me good. But stop work? It's absurd to ask such a +thing. It's like a long-distance race. You feel queer at first and your +heart thumps and your lungs pant, but if you have only the pluck to +keep on, you get your second wind. I'll stick to my work and wait for my +second wind. If it never comes--all the same, I'll stick to my work. Two +ledgers are done, and I am well on in the third. The rascal has covered +his tracks well, but I pick them up for all that. + +Jan. 9.--I had not meant to go to the doctor again. And yet I have had +to. "Straining my nerves, risking a complete breakdown, even endangering +my sanity." That's a nice sentence to have fired off at one. Well, I'll +stand the strain and I'll take the risk, and so long as I can sit in my +chair and move a pen I'll follow the old sinner's slot. + +By the way, I may as well set down here the queer experience which +drove me this second time to the doctor. I'll keep an exact record of my +symptoms and sensations, because they are interesting in themselves--"a +curious psycho-physiological study," says the doctor--and also because I +am perfectly certain that when I am through with them they will all seem +blurred and unreal, like some queer dream betwixt sleeping and waking. +So now, while they are fresh, I will just make a note of them, if only +as a change of thought after the endless figures. + +There's an old silver-framed mirror in my room. It was given me by a +friend who had a taste for antiquities, and he, as I happen to know, +picked it up at a sale and had no notion where it came from. It's a +large thing--three feet across and two feet high--and it leans at the +back of a side-table on my left as I write. The frame is flat, about +three inches across, and very old; far too old for hall-marks or other +methods of determining its age. The glass part projects, with a bevelled +edge, and has the magnificent reflecting power which is only, as it +seems to me, to be found in very old mirrors. There's a feeling of +perspective when you look into it such as no modern glass can ever give. + +The mirror is so situated that as I sit at the table I can usually see +nothing in it but the reflection of the red window curtains. But a queer +thing happened last night. I had been working for some hours, very much +against the grain, with continual bouts of that mistiness of which I had +complained. Again and again I had to stop and clear my eyes. Well, +on one of these occasions I chanced to look at the mirror. It had the +oddest appearance. The red curtains which should have been reflected in +it were no longer there, but the glass seemed to be clouded and steamy, +not on the surface, which glittered like steel, but deep down in the +very grain of it. This opacity, when I stared hard at it, appeared +to slowly rotate this way and that, until it was a thick white cloud +swirling in heavy wreaths. So real and solid was it, and so reasonable +was I, that I remember turning, with the idea that the curtains were +on fire. But everything was deadly still in the room--no sound save the +ticking of the clock, no movement save the slow gyration of that strange +woolly cloud deep in the heart of the old mirror. + +Then, as I looked, the mist, or smoke, or cloud, or whatever one may +call it, seemed to coalesce and solidify at two points quite close +together, and I was aware, with a thrill of interest rather than of +fear, that these were two eyes looking out into the room. A vague +outline of a head I could see--a woman's by the hair, but this was very +shadowy. Only the eyes were quite distinct; such eyes--dark, luminous, +filled with some passionate emotion, fury or horror, I could not say +which. Never have I seen eyes which were so full of intense, vivid life. +They were not fixed upon me, but stared out into the room. Then as I sat +erect, passed my hand over my brow, and made a strong conscious effort +to pull myself together, the dim head faded into the general opacity, +the mirror slowly cleared, and there were the red curtains once again. + +A sceptic would say, no doubt, that I had dropped asleep over my +figures, and that my experience was a dream. As a matter of fact, I was +never more vividly awake in my life. I was able to argue about it +even as I looked at it, and to tell myself that it was a subjective +impression--a chimera of the nerves--begotten by worry and insomnia. +But why this particular shape? And who is the woman, and what is the +dreadful emotion which I read in those wonderful brown eyes? They come +between me and my work. For the first time I have done less than the +daily tally which I had marked out. Perhaps that is why I have had no +abnormal sensations tonight. Tomorrow I must wake up, come what may. + +Jan. 11.--All well, and good progress with my work. I wind the net, coil +after coil, round that bulky body. But the last smile may remain with +him if my own nerves break over it. The mirror would seem to be a sort +of barometer which marks my brain-pressure. Each night I have observed +that it had clouded before I reached the end of my task. + +Dr. Sinclair (who is, it seems, a bit of a psychologist) was so +interested in my account that he came round this evening to have a look +at the mirror. I had observed that something was scribbled in crabbed +old characters upon the metal-work at the back. He examined this with +a lens, but could make nothing of it. "Sanc. X. Pal." was his final +reading of it, but that did not bring us any farther. He advised me to +put it away into another room; but, after all, whatever I may see in +it is, by his own account only a symptom. It is in the cause that the +danger lies. The twenty ledgers--not the silver mirror--should be packed +away if I could only do it. I'm at the eighth now, so I progress. + +Jan. 13.-Perhaps it would have been wiser after all if I had packed away +the mirror. I had an extraordinary experience with it last night. And +yet I find it so interesting, so fascinating, that even now I will keep +it in its place. What on earth is the meaning of it all? + +I suppose it was about one in the morning, and I was closing my books +preparatory to staggering off to bed, when I saw her there in front of +me. The stage of mistiness and development must have passed unobserved, +and there she was in all her beauty and passion and distress, as +clear-cut as if she were really in the flesh before me. The figure +was small, but very distinct--so much so that every feature, and every +detail of dress, are stamped in my memory. She is seated on the extreme +left of the mirror. A sort of shadowy figure crouches down beside her--I +can dimly discern that it is a man--and then behind them is cloud, in +which I see figures--figures which move. It is not a mere picture upon +which I look. It is a scene in life, an actual episode. She crouches and +quivers. The man beside her cowers down. The vague figures make abrupt +movements and gestures. All my fears were swallowed up in my interest. +It was maddening to see so much and not to see more. + +But I can at least describe the woman to the smallest point. She is +very beautiful and quite young--not more than five-and-twenty, I should +judge. Her hair is of a very rich brown, with a warm chestnut shade +fining into gold at the edges. A little flat-pointed cap comes to an +angle in front, and is made of lace edged with pearls. The forehead is +high, too high perhaps for perfect beauty; but one would not have it +otherwise, as it gives a touch of power and strength to what would +otherwise be a softly feminine face. The brows are most delicately +curved over heavy eyelids, and then come those wonderful eyes--so +large, so dark, so full of over-mastering emotion, of rage and horror, +contending with a pride of self-control which holds her from sheer +frenzy! The cheeks are pale, the lips white with agony, the chin and +throat most exquisitely rounded. The figure sits and leans forward in +the chair, straining and rigid, cataleptic with horror. The dress is +black velvet, a jewel gleams like a flame in the breast, and a golden +crucifix smoulders in the shadow of a fold. This is the lady whose image +still lives in the old silver mirror. What dire deed could it be which +has left its impress there, so that now, in another age, if the spirit +of a man be but worn down to it, he may be conscious of its presence? + +One other detail: On the left side of the skirt of the black dress was, +as I thought at first, a shapeless bunch of white ribbon. Then, as I +looked more intently or as the vision defined itself more clearly, I +perceived what it was. It was the hand of a man, clenched and knotted in +agony, which held on with a convulsive grasp to the fold of the dress. +The rest of the crouching figure was a mere vague outline, but that +strenuous hand shone clear on the dark background, with a +sinister suggestion of tragedy in its frantic clutch. The man is +frightened-horribly frightened. That I can clearly discern. What has +terrified him so? Why does he grip the woman's dress? The answer lies +amongst those moving figures in the background. They have brought danger +both to him and to her. The interest of the thing fascinated me. I +thought no more of its relation to my own nerves. I stared and stared +as if in a theatre. But I could get no farther. The mist thinned. +There were tumultuous movements in which all the figures were vaguely +concerned. Then the mirror was clear once more. + +The doctor says I must drop work for a day, and I can afford to do +so, for I have made good progress lately. It is quite evident that the +visions depend entirely upon my own nervous state, for I sat in front of +the mirror for an hour tonight, with no result whatever. My soothing day +has chased them away. I wonder whether I shall ever penetrate what they +all mean? I examined the mirror this evening under a good light, and +besides the mysterious inscription "Sanc. X. Pal.," I was able to +discern some signs of heraldic marks, very faintly visible upon the +silver. They must be very ancient, as they are almost obliterated. So +far as I could make out, they were three spear-heads, two above and one +below. I will show them to the doctor when he calls tomorrow. + +Jan. 14.--Feel perfectly well again, and I intend that nothing else +shall stop me until my task is finished. The doctor was shown the marks +on the mirror and agreed that they were armorial bearings. He is deeply +interested in all that I have told him, and cross-questioned me +closely on the details. It amuses me to notice how he is torn in two by +conflicting desires--the one that his patient should lose his symptoms, +the other that the medium--for so he regards me--should solve this +mystery of the past. He advised continued rest, but did not oppose me +too violently when I declared that such a thing was out of the question +until the ten remaining ledgers have been checked. + +Jan. 17.--For three nights I have had no experiences--my day of rest has +borne fruit. Only a quarter of my task is left, but I must make a forced +march, for the lawyers are clamouring for their material. I will give +them enough and to spare. I have him fast on a hundred counts. When they +realize what a slippery, cunning rascal he is, I should gain some credit +from the case. False trading accounts, false balance-sheets, dividends +drawn from capital, losses written down as profits, suppression of +working expenses, manipulation of petty cash--it is a fine record! + +Jan. 18.--Headaches, nervous twitches, mistiness, fullness of the +temples--all the premonitions of trouble, and the trouble came sure +enough. And yet my real sorrow is not so much that the vision should +come as that it should cease before all is revealed. + +But I saw more tonight. The crouching man was as visible as the +lady whose gown he clutched. He is a little swarthy fellow, with a +black-pointed beard. He has a loose gown of damask trimmed with fur. The +prevailing tints of his dress are red. What a fright the fellow is in, +to be sure! He cowers and shivers and glares back over his shoulder. +There is a small knife in his other hand, but he is far too tremulous +and cowed to use it. Dimly now I begin to see the figures in the +background. Fierce faces, bearded and dark, shape themselves out of the +mist. There is one terrible creature, a skeleton of a man, with hollow +cheeks and eyes sunk in his head. He also has a knife in his hand. On +the right of the woman stands a tall man, very young, with flaxen hair, +his face sullen and dour. The beautiful woman looks up at him in appeal. +So does the man on the ground. This youth seems to be the arbiter of +their fate. The crouching man draws closer and hides himself in the +woman's skirts. The tall youth bends and tries to drag her away from +him. So much I saw last night before the mirror cleared. Shall I never +know what it leads to and whence it comes? It is not a mere imagination, +of that I am very sure. Somewhere, some time, this scene has been acted, +and this old mirror has reflected it. But when--where? + +Jan. 20.--My work draws to a close, and it is time. I feel a tenseness +within my brain, a sense of intolerable strain, which warns me that +something must give. I have worked myself to the limit. But tonight +should be the last night. With a supreme effort I should finish the +final ledger and complete the case before I rise from my chair. I will +do it. I will. + +Feb. 7.--I did. My God, what an experience! I hardly know if I am strong +enough yet to set it down. + +Let me explain in the first instance that I am writing this in Dr. +Sinclair's private hospital some three weeks after the last entry in my +diary. On the night of January 20 my nervous system finally gave way, +and I remembered nothing afterwards until I found myself three days ago +in this home of rest. And I can rest with a good conscience. My work was +done before I went under. My figures are in the solicitors' hands. The +hunt is over. + +And now I must describe that last night. I had sworn to finish my work, +and so intently did I stick to it, though my head was bursting, that I +would never look up until the last column had been added. And yet it was +fine self-restraint, for all the time I knew that wonderful things were +happening in the mirror. Every nerve in my body told me so. If I looked +up there was an end of my work. So I did not look up till all was +finished. Then, when at last with throbbing temples I threw down my pen +and raised my eyes, what a sight was there! + +The mirror in its silver frame was like a stage, brilliantly lit, in +which a drama was in progress. There was no mist now. The oppression +of my nerves had wrought this amazing clarity. Every feature, every +movement, was as clear-cut as in life. To think that I, a tired +accountant, the most prosaic of mankind, with the account-books of a +swindling bankrupt before me, should be chosen of all the human race to +look upon such a scene! + +It was the same scene and the same figures, but the drama had advanced +a stage. The tall young man was holding the woman in his arms. She +strained away from him and looked up at him with loathing in her face. +They had torn the crouching man away from his hold upon the skirt of +her dress. A dozen of them were round him--savage men, bearded men. They +hacked at him with knives. All seemed to strike him together. Their +arms rose and fell. The blood did not flow from him-it squirted. His red +dress was dabbled in it. He threw himself this way and that, purple upon +crimson, like an over-ripe plum. Still they hacked, and still the jets +shot from him. It was horrible--horrible! They dragged him kicking to +the door. The woman looked over her shoulder at him and her mouth gaped. +I heard nothing, but I knew that she was screaming. And then, whether it +was this nerve-racking vision before me, or whether, my task finished, +all the overwork of the past weeks came in one crushing weight upon me, +the room danced round me, the floor seemed to sink away beneath my feet, +and I remembered no more. In the early morning my landlady found me +stretched senseless before the silver mirror, but I knew nothing myself +until three days ago I awoke in the deep peace of the doctor's nursing +home. + +Feb. 9.--Only today have I told Dr. Sinclair my full experience. He +had not allowed me to speak of such matters before. He listened with an +absorbed interest. "You don't identify this with any well-known scene +in history?" he asked, with suspicion in his eyes. I assured him that I +knew nothing of history. "Have you no idea whence that mirror came and +to whom it once belonged?" he continued. "Have you?" I asked, for he +spoke with meaning. "It's incredible," said he, "and yet how else can +one explain it? The scenes which you described before suggested it, but +now it has gone beyond all range of coincidence. I will bring you some +notes in the evening." + +Later.--He has just left me. Let me set down his words as closely as I +can recall them. He began by laying several musty volumes upon my bed. + +"These you can consult at your leisure," said he. "I have some notes +here which you can confirm. There is not a doubt that what you have seen +is the murder of Rizzio by the Scottish nobles in the presence of +Mary, which occurred in March, 1566. Your description of the woman is +accurate. The high forehead and heavy eyelids combined with great beauty +could hardly apply to two women. The tall young man was her husband, +Darnley. Rizzio, says the chronicle, 'was dressed in a loose +dressing-gown of furred damask, with hose of russet velvet.' With one +hand he clutched Mary's gown, with the other he held a dagger. Your +fierce, hollow-eyed man was Ruthven, who was new-risen from a bed of +sickness. Every detail is exact." + +"But why to me?" I asked, in bewilderment. "Why of all the human race to +me?" + +"Because you were in the fit mental state to receive the impression. +Because you chanced to own the mirror which gave the impression." + +"The mirror! You think, then, that it was Mary's mirror--that it stood +in the room where the deed was done?" + +"I am convinced that it was Mary's mirror. She had been Queen of France. +Her personal property would be stamped with the Royal arms. What you +took to be three spear-heads were really the lilies of France." + +"And the inscription?" + +"'Sanc. X. Pal.' You can expand it into Sanctae Crucis Palatium. Some +one has made a note upon the mirror as to whence it came. It was the +Palace of the Holy Cross." + +"Holyrood!" I cried. + +"Exactly. Your mirror came from Holyrood. You have had one very singular +experience, and have escaped. I trust that you will never put yourself +into the way of having such another." + + + + +THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY + + +Sharkey, the abominable Sharkey, was out again. After two years of the +Coromandel coast, his black barque of death, _The Happy Delivery_, was +prowling off the Spanish Main, while trader and fisher flew for dear +life at the menace of that patched fore-topsail, rising slowly over the +violet rim of the tropical sea. + +As the birds cower when the shadow of the hawk falls athwart the field, +or as the jungle folk crouch and shiver when the coughing cry of the +tiger is heard in the night-time, so through all the busy world of +ships, from the whalers of Nantucket to the tobacco ships of Charleston, +and from the Spanish supply ships of Cadiz to the sugar merchants of the +Main, there spread the rumour of the black curse of the ocean. + +Some hugged the shore, ready to make for the nearest port, while others +struck far out beyond the known lines of commerce, but none were +so stout-hearted that they did not breathe more freely when their +passengers and cargoes were safe under the guns of some mothering fort. + +Through all the islands there ran tales of charred derelicts at sea, +of sudden glares seen afar in the night-time, and of withered bodies +stretched upon the sand of waterless Bahama Keys. All the old signs were +there to show that Sharkey was at his bloody game once more. + +These fair waters and yellow-rimmed, palm-nodding islands are +the traditional home of the sea rover. First it was the gentleman +adventurer, the man of family and honour, who fought as a patriot, +though he was ready to take his payment in Spanish plunder. + +Then, within a century, his debonnaire figure had passed to make room +for the buccaneers, robbers pure and simple, yet with some organized +code of their own, commanded by notable chieftains, and taking in hand +great concerted enterprises. + +They, too, passed with their fleets and their sacking of cities, to make +room for the worst of all, the lonely outcast pirate, the bloody Ishmael +of the seas, at war with the whole human race. This was the vile brood +which the early eighteenth century had spawned forth, and of them all +there was none who could compare in audacity, wickedness, and evil +repute with the unutterable Sharkey. + +It was early in May, in the year 1720, that _The Happy Delivery_ lay +with her fore-yard aback some five leagues west of the Windward Passage, +waiting to see what rich, helpless craft the trade-wind might bring down +to her. + +Three days she had lain there, a sinister black speck, in the centre of +the great sapphire circle of the ocean. Far to the south-east the low +blue hills of Hispaniola showed up on the skyline. + +Hour by hour as he waited without avail, Sharkey's savage temper had +risen, for his arrogant spirit chafed against any contradiction, even +from Fate itself. To his quartermaster, Ned Galloway, he had said +that night, with his odious neighing laugh, that the crew of the next +captured vessel should answer to him for having kept him waiting so +long. + +The cabin of the pirate barque was a good-sized room, hung with +much tarnished finery, and presenting a strange medley of luxury and +disorder. The panelling of carved and polished sandal-wood was blotched +with foul smudges and chipped with bullet-marks fired in some drunken +revelry. + +Rich velvets and laces were heaped upon the brocaded settees, while +metal-work and pictures of great price filled every niche and corner, +for anything which caught the pirate's fancy in the sack of a hundred +vessels was thrown haphazard into his chamber. A rich, soft carpet +covered the floor, but it was mottled with wine-stains and charred with +burned tobacco. + +Above, a great brass hanging-lamp threw a brilliant yellow light +upon this singular apartment, and upon the two men who sat in their +shirt-sleeves with the wine between them, and the cards in their hands, +deep in a game of piquet. Both were smoking long pipes, and the thin +blue reek filled the cabin and floated through the skylight above them, +which, half opened, disclosed a slip of deep violet sky spangled with +great silver stars. + +Ned Galloway, the quartermaster, was a huge New England wastrel, the one +rotten branch upon a goodly Puritan family tree. His robust limbs and +giant frame were the heritage of a long line of God-fearing ancestors, +while his black savage heart was all his own. Bearded to the temples, +with fierce blue eyes, a tangled lion's mane of coarse, dark hair, +and huge gold rings in his ears, he was the idol of the women in every +waterside hell from the Tortugas to Maracaibo on the Main. A red cap, +a blue silken shirt, brown velvet breeches with gaudy knee-ribbons, and +high sea-boots made up the costume of the rover Hercules. + +A very different figure was Captain John Sharkey. His thin, drawn, +clean-shaven face was corpse-like in its pallor, and all the suns of the +Indies could but turn it to a more deathly parchment tint. He was +part bald, with a few lank locks of tow-like hair, and a steep, narrow +forehead. His thin nose jutted sharply forth, and near-set on either +side of it were those filmy blue eyes, red-rimmed like those of a white +bull-terrier, from which strong men winced away in fear and loathing. +His bony hands, with long, thin fingers which quivered ceaselessly like +the antennae of an insect, were toying constantly with the cards and the +heap of gold moidores which lay before him. His dress was of some sombre +drab material, but, indeed, the men who looked upon that fearsome face +had little thought for the costume of its owner. + +The game was brought to a sudden interruption, for the cabin door was +swung rudely open, and two rough fellows--Israel Martin, the boatswain, +and Red Foley, the gunner--rushed into the cabin. In an instant Sharkey +was on his feet with a pistol in either hand and murder in his eyes. + +"Sink you for villains!" he cried. "I see well that if I do not shoot +one of you from time to time you will forget the man I am. What mean you +by entering my cabin as though it were a Wapping alehouse?" + +"Nay, Captain Sharkey," said Martin, with a sullen frown upon his +brick-red face, "it is even such talk as this which has set us by the +ears. We have had enough of it." + +"And more than enough," said Red Foley, the gunner. "There be no +mates aboard a pirate craft, and so the boatswain, the gunner, and the +quarter-master are the officers." + +"Did I gainsay it?" asked Sharkey with an oath. + +"You have miscalled us and mishandled us before the men, and we scarce +know at this moment why we should risk our lives in fighting for the +cabin and against the foc'sle." + +Sharkey saw that something serious was in the wind. He laid down his +pistols and leaned back in his chair with a flash of his yellow fangs. + +"Nay, this is sad talk," said he, "that two stout fellows who have +emptied many a bottle and cut many a throat with me, should now fall out +over nothing. I know you to be roaring boys who would go with me against +the devil himself if I bid you. Let the steward bring cups and drown all +unkindness between us." + +"It is no time for drinking, Captain Sharkey," said Martin. "The men are +holding council round the mainmast, and may be aft at any minute. They +mean mischief, Captain Sharkey, and we have come to warn you." + +Sharkey sprang for the brass-handled sword which hung from the wall. + +"Sink them for rascals!" he cried. "When I have gutted one or two of +them they may hear reason." + +But the others barred his frantic way to the door. + +"There are forty of them under the lead of Sweetlocks, the master," said +Martin, "and on the open deck they would surely cut you to pieces. Here +within the cabin it may be that we can hold them off at the points of +our pistols." + +He had hardly spoken when there came the tread of many heavy feet upon +the deck. Then there was a pause with no sound but the gentle lipping +of the water against the sides of the pirate vessel. Finally, a crashing +blow as from a pistol-butt fell upon the door, and an instant afterwards +Sweetlocks himself, a tall, dark man, with a deep red birthmark blazing +upon his cheek, strode into the cabin. His swaggering air sank somewhat +as he looked into those pale and filmy eyes. + +"Captain Sharkey," said he, "I come as spokesman of the crew." + +"So I have heard, Sweetlocks," said the captain, softly. "I may live to +rip you the length of your vest for this night's work." + +"That is as it may be, Captain Sharkey," the master answered, "but if +you will look up you will see that I have those at my back who will not +see me mishandled." + +"Cursed if we do!" growled a deep voice from above, and glancing upwards +the officers in the cabin were aware of a line of fierce, bearded, +sun-blackened faces looking down at them through the open skylight. + +"Well, what would you have?" asked Sharkey. "Put it in words, man, and +let us have an end of it." + +"The men think," said Sweetlocks, "that you are the devil himself, and +that there will be no luck for them whilst they sail the sea in such +company. Time was when we did our two or three craft a day, and every +man had women and dollars to his liking, but now for a long week we have +not raised a sail, and save for three beggarly sloops, have taken never +a vessel since we passed the Bahama Bank. Also, they know that you +killed Jack Bartholomew, the carpenter, by beating his head in with a +bucket, so that each of us goes in fear of his life. Also, the rum has +given out, and we are hard put to it for liquor. Also, you sit in your +cabin whilst it is in the articles that you should drink and roar with +the crew. For all these reasons it has been this day in general meeting +decreed--" + +Sharkey had stealthily cocked a pistol under the table, so it may have +been as well for the mutinous master that he never reached the end of +his discourse, for even as he came to it there was a swift patter of +feet upon the deck, and a ship lad, wild with his tidings, rushed into +the room. + +"A craft!" he yelled. "A great craft, and close aboard us!" + +In a flash the quarrel was forgotten, and the pirates were rushing to +quarters. Sure enough, surging slowly down before the gentle trade-wind, +a great full-rigged ship, with all sail set, was close beside them. + +It was clear that she had come from afar and knew nothing of the ways of +the Caribbean Sea, for she made no effort to avoid the low, dark craft +which lay so close upon her bow, but blundered on as if her mere size +would avail her. + +So daring was she, that for an instant the Rovers, as they flew to loose +the tackles of their guns, and hoisted their battle-lanterns, believed +that a man-of-war had caught them napping. + +But at the sight of her bulging, portless sides and merchant rig a shout +of exultation broke from amongst them, and in an instant they had swung +round their fore-yard, and darting alongside they had grappled with her +and flung a spray of shrieking, cursing ruffians upon her deck. + +Half a dozen seamen of the night-watch were cut down where they stood, +the mate was felled by Sharkey and tossed overboard by Ned Galloway, and +before the sleepers had time to sit up in their berths, the vessel was +in the hands of the pirates. + +The prize proved to be the full-rigged ship _Portobello_--Captain Hardy, +master--bound from London to Kingston in Jamaica, with a cargo of cotton +goods and hoop-iron. + +Having secured their prisoners, all huddled together in a dazed, +distracted group, the pirates spread over the vessel in search of +plunder, handing all that was found to the giant quartermaster, who in +turn passed it over the side of _The Happy Delivery_ and laid it under +guard at the foot of her mainmast. + +The cargo was useless, but there were a thousand guineas in the ship's +strong-box, and there were some eight or ten passengers, three of them +wealthy Jamaica merchants, all bringing home well-filled boxes from +their London visit. + +When all the plunder was gathered, the passengers and crew were dragged +to the waist, and under the cold smile of Sharkey each in turn was +thrown over the side--Sweetlocks standing by the rail and ham-stringing +them with his cutlass as they passed over, lest some strong swimmer +should rise in judgment against them. A portly, grey-haired woman, the +wife of one of the planters, was among the captives, but she also was +thrust screaming and clutching over the side. + +"Mercy, you hussy!" neighed Sharkey, "you are surely a good twenty years +too old for that." + +The captain of the _Portobello_, a hale, blue-eyed grey-beard, was the +last upon the deck. He stood, a thick-set resolute figure, in the glare +of the lanterns, while Sharkey bowed and smirked before him. + +"One skipper should show courtesy to another," said he, "and sink me if +Captain Sharkey would be behind in good manners! I have held you to the +last, as you see, where a brave man should be; so now, my bully, you +have seen the end of them, and may step over with an easy mind." + +"So I shall, Captain Sharkey," said the old seaman, "for I have done my +duty so far as my power lay. But before I go over I would say a word in +your ear." + +"If it be to soften me, you may save your breath. You have kept us +waiting here for three days, and curse me if one of you shall live!" + +"Nay, it is to tell you what you should know. You have not yet found +what is the true treasure aboard of this ship." + +"Not found it? Sink me, but I will slice your liver, Captain Hardy, if +you do not make good your words! Where is this treasure you speak of?" +"It is not a treasure of gold, but it is a fair maid, which may be no +less welcome." + +"Where is she, then? And why is she not with the others?" + +"I will tell you why she is not with the others. She is the only +daughter of the Count and Countess Ramirez, who are amongst those whom +you have murdered. Her name is Inez Ramirez, and she is of the best +blood of Spain, her father being Governor of Chagre, to which he was now +bound. It chanced that she was found to have formed an attachment, as +maids will, to one far beneath her in rank aboard this ship; so her +parents, being people of great power, whose word is not to be gainsaid, +constrained me to confine her close in a special cabin aft of my own. +Here she was held straitly, all food being carried to her, and she +allowed to see no one. This I tell you as a last gift, though why I +should make it to you I do not know, for indeed you are a most bloody +rascal, and it comforts me in dying to think that you will surely be +gallow's-meat in this world, and hell's-meat in the next." + +At the words he ran to the rail, and vaulted over into the darkness, +praying as he sank into the depths of the sea, that the betrayal of this +maid might not be counted too heavily against his soul. + +The body of Captain Hardy had not yet settled upon the sand forty +fathoms deep before the pirates had rushed along the cabin gangway. +There, sure enough, at the further end, was a barred door, overlooked in +their previous search. There was no key, but they beat it in with their +gunstocks, whilst shriek after shriek came from within. In the light of +their outstretched lanterns they saw a young woman, in the very prime +and fullness of her youth, crouching in a corner, her unkempt hair +hanging to the ground, her dark eyes glaring with fear, her lovely form +straining away in horror from this inrush of savage blood-stained men. +Rough hands seized her, she was jerked to her feet, and dragged with +scream on scream to where John Sharkey awaited her. He held the light +long and fondly to her face, then, laughing loudly, he bent forward and +left his red hand-print upon her cheek. + +"'Tis the Rover's brand, lass, that he marks his ewes. Take her to the +cabin and use her well. Now, hearties, get her under water, and out to +our luck once more." + +Within an hour the good ship _Portobello_ had settled down to her doom, +till she lay beside her murdered passengers upon the Caribbean sand, +while the pirate barque, her deck littered with plunder, was heading +northward in search of another victim. + +There was a carouse that night in the cabin of _The Happy Delivery_, at +which three men drank deep. They were the captain, the quartermaster, +and Baldy Stable, the surgeon, a man who had held the first practice in +Charleston, until, misusing a patient, he fled from justice, and took +his skill over to the pirates. A bloated fat man he was, with a creased +neck and a great shining scalp, which gave him his name. Sharkey had put +for the moment all thought of the mutiny out of his head, knowing that +no animal is fierce when it is over-fed, and that whilst the plunder of +the great ship was new to them he need fear no trouble from his crew. +He gave himself up, therefore, to the wine and the riot, shouting and +roaring with his boon companions. All three were flushed and mad, ripe +for any devilment, when the thought of the woman crossed the pirate's +evil mind. He yelled to the negro steward that he should bring her on +the instant. + +Inez Ramirez had now realized it all--the death of her father and +mother, and her own position in the hands of their murderers. Yet +calmness had come with the knowledge, and there was no sign of terror +in her proud, dark face as she was led into the cabin, but rather a +strange, firm set of the mouth and an exultant gleam of the eyes, like +one who sees great hopes in the future. She smiled at the pirate captain +as he rose and seized her by the waist. + +"'Fore God! this is a lass of spirit," cried Sharkey, passing his arm +round her. "She was born to be a Rover's bride. Come, my bird, and drink +to our better friendship." + +"Article Six!" hiccoughed the doctor. "All _bona robas_ in common." + +"Aye! we hold you to that, Captain Sharkey," said Galloway. "It is so +writ in Article Six." + +"I will cut the man into ounces who comes betwixt us!" cried Sharkey, as +he turned his fish-like eyes from one to the other. "Nay, lass, the man +is not born that will take you from John Sharkey. Sit here upon my knee, +and place your arm round me so. Sink me, if she has not learned to love +me at sight! Tell me, my pretty, why you were so mishandled and laid in +the bilboes aboard yonder craft?" + +The woman shook her head and smiled. "No Inglese--no Inglese," she +lisped. She had drunk off the bumper of wine which Sharkey held to +her, and her dark eyes gleamed more brightly than before. Sitting on +Sharkey's knee, her arm encircled his neck, and her hand toyed with +his hair, his ear, his cheek. Even the strange quartermaster and the +hardened surgeon felt a horror as they watched her, but Sharkey laughed +in his joy. "Curse me, if she is not a lass of metal!" he cried, as he +pressed her to him and kissed her unresisting lips. + +But a strange intent look of interest had come into the surgeon's eyes +as he watched her, and his face set rigidly, as if a fearsome thought +had entered his mind. There stole a grey pallor over his bull face, +mottling all the red of the tropics and the flush of the wine. + +"Look at her hand, Captain Sharkey!" he cried. "For the Lord's sake, +look at her hand!" + +Sharkey stared down at the hand which had fondled him. It was of a +strange dead pallor, with a yellow shiny web betwixt the fingers. All +over it was a white fluffy dust, like the flour of a new-baked loaf. It +lay thick on Sharkey's neck and cheek. With a cry of disgust he flung +the woman from his lap; but in an instant, with a wild-cat bound, and a +scream of triumphant malice, she had sprung at the surgeon, who vanished +yelling under the table. One of her clawing hands grasped Galloway by +the beard, but he tore himself away, and snatching a pike, held her off +from him as she gibbered and mowed with the blazing eyes of a maniac. + +The black steward had run in on the sudden turmoil, and among them they +forced the mad creature back into a cabin and turned the key upon her. +Then the three sank panting into their chairs, and looked with eyes +of horror upon each other. The same word was in the mind of each, but +Galloway was the first to speak it. + +"A leper!" he cried. "She has us all, curse her!" + +"Not me," said the surgeon; "she never laid her finger on me." + +"For that matter," cried Galloway, "it was but my beard that she +touched. I will have every hair of it off before morning." + +"Dolts that we were!" the surgeon shouted, beating his head with his +hand. "Tainted or no, we shall never know a moment's peace till the year +is up and the time of danger past. 'Fore God, that merchant skipper has +left his mark on us, and pretty fools we were to think that such a maid +would be quarantined for the cause he gave. It is easy to see now that +her corruption broke forth in the journey, and that save throwing her +over they had no choice but to board her up until they should come to +some port with a lazarette." + +Sharkey had sat leaning back in his chair with a ghastly face while +he listened to the surgeon's words. He mopped himself with his red +handkerchief, and wiped away the fatal dust with which he was smeared. + +"What of me?" he croaked. "What say you, Baldy Stable? Is there a chance +for me? Curse you for a villain! speak out, or I will drub you within an +inch of your life, and that inch also! Is there a chance for me, I say?" + +But the surgeon shook his head. "Captain Sharkey," said he, "it would be +an ill deed to speak you false. The taint is on you. No man on whom the +leper scales have rested is ever clean again." + +Sharkey's head fell forward on his chest, and he sat motionless, +stricken by this great and sudden horror, looking with his smouldering +eyes into his fearsome future. Softly the mate and the surgeon rose from +their places, and stealing out from the poisoned air of the cabin, came +forth into the freshness of the early dawn, with the soft, scent-laden +breeze in their faces and the first red feathers of cloud catching the +earliest gleam of the rising sun as it shot its golden rays over the +palm-clad ridges of distant Hispaniola. + +That morning a second council of the Rovers was held at the base of +the mainmast, and a deputation chosen to see the captain. They were +approaching the after-cabins when Sharkey came forth, the old devil in +his eyes, and his bandolier with a pair of pistols over his shoulder. + +"Sink you all for villains!" he cried, "Would you dare to cross my +hawse? Stand out, Sweetlocks, and I will lay you open! Here, Galloway, +Martin, Foley, stand by me and lash the dogs to their kennel!" + +But his officers had deserted him, and there was none to come to his +aid. There was a rush of the pirates. One was shot through the body, but +an instant afterwards Sharkey had been seized and was triced to his own +mainmast. His filmy eyes looked round from face to face, and there was +none who felt the happier for having met them. + +"Captain Sharkey," said Sweetlocks, "you have mishandled many of us, and +you have now pistolled John Masters, besides killing Bartholomew, the +carpenter, by braining him with a bucket. All this might have been +forgiven you, in that you have been our leader for years, and that we +have signed articles to serve under you while the voyage lasts. But +now we have heard of this bona roba on board, and we know that you are +poisoned to the marrow, and that while you rot there will be no +safety for any of us, but that we shall all be turned into filth and +corruption. Therefore, John Sharkey, we Rovers of _The Happy Delivery_, +in council assembled, have decreed that while there be yet time, before +the plague spreads, you shall be set adrift in a boat to find such a +fate as Fortune may be pleased to send you." + +John Sharkey said nothing, but slowly circling his head, he cursed them +all with his baleful gaze. The ship's dinghy had been lowered, and he +with his hands still tied, was dropped into it on the bight of a rope. + +"Cast her off!" cried Sweetlocks. + +"Nay, hold hard a moment, Master Sweetlocks!" shouted one of the crew. +"What of the wench? Is she to bide aboard and poison us all?" + +"Send her off with her mate!" cried another, and the Rovers roared their +approval. Driven forth at the end of pikes, the girl was pushed towards +the boat. With all the spirit of Spain in her rotting body she flashed +triumphant glances on her captors. "Perros! Perros Ingleses! Lepero, +Lepero!" she cried in exultation, as they thrust her over into the boat. + +"Good luck, captain! God speed you on your honeymoon!" cried a chorus of +mocking voices, as the painter was unloosed, and _The Happy Delivery_, +running full before the trade-wind, left the little boat astern, a tiny +dot upon the vast expanse of the lonely sea. + + +Extract from the log of H.M. fifty-gun ship _Hecate_ in her cruise off +the American Main. + +"Jan. 26, 1721.--This day, the junk having become unfit for food, and +five of the crew down with scurvy, I ordered that we send two boats +ashore at the nor'-western point of Hispaniola, to seek for fresh fruit, +and perchance shoot some of the wild oxen with which the island abounds. + +"7 p.m.--The boats have returned with good store of green stuff and two +bullocks. Mr. Woodruff, the master, reports that near the landing-place +at the edge of the forest was found the skeleton of a woman, clad in +European dress, of such sort as to show that she may have been a person +of quality. Her head had been crushed by a great stone which lay beside +her. Hard by was a grass hut, and signs that a man had dwelt therein for +some time, as was shown by charred wood, bones and other traces. There +is a rumour upon the coast that Sharkey, the bloody pirate, was marooned +in these parts last year, but whether he has made his way into the +interior, or whether he has been picked up by some craft, there is no +means of knowing. If he be once again afloat, then I pray that God send +him under our guns." + + + + +THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER + + +I am speaking, my friends, of days which are long gone by, when I had +scarcely begun to build up that fame which has made my name so familiar. +Among the thirty officers of the Hussars of Conflans there was nothing +to indicate that I was superior in any way to the others. I can well +imagine how surprised they would all have been had they realized that +young Lieutenant Etienne Gerard was destined for so glorious a career, +and would live to command a brigade and to receive from the Emperor's +own hands that cross which I can show you any time that you do me the +honour to visit me in my little cottage. You know, do you not, the +little white-washed cottage with the vine in front, in the field beside +the Garonne? + +People have said of me that I have never known what fear was. No doubt +you have heard them say it. For many years, out of a foolish pride, I +have let the saying pass. And yet now, in my old age, I can afford to +be honest. The brave man dares to be frank. It is only the coward who is +afraid to make admissions. So I tell you now that I also am human; that +I also have felt my skin grow cold, and my hair rise; that I have even +known what it was to run away until my limbs could scarce support me. It +shocks you to hear it? Well, some day it may comfort you, when your own +courage has reached its limits, to know that even Etienne Gerard has +known what it was to be afraid. I will tell you now how this experience +befell me, and also how it brought me a wife. + +For the moment France was at peace, and we, the Hussars of Conflans, +were in camp all that summer a few miles from the town of Les Andelys +in Normandy. It is not a very gay place by itself, but we of the Light +Cavalry make all places gay which we visit, and so we passed our time +very pleasantly. Many years and many scenes have dulled my remembrance, +but still the name Les Andelys brings back to me a huge ruined castle, +great orchards of apple trees, and above all, a vision of the lovely +maidens of Normandy. They were the very finest of their sex, as we may +be said to have been of ours, and so we were well met in that sweet +sunlit summer. Ah, the youth, the beauty, the valour, and then the dull, +dead years that blurr them all! There are times when the glorious +past weighs on my heart like lead. No, sir, no wine can wash away such +thoughts, for they are of the spirit and the soul. It is only the gross +body which responds to wine, but if you offer it for that, then I will +not refuse it. + +Now of all the maidens who dwelt in those parts there was one who was +so superior in beauty and in charm that she seemed to be very specially +marked out for me. Her name was Marie Ravon, and her people, the Ravons, +were of yeoman stock who had farmed their own land in those parts since +the days when Duke William went to England. If I close my eyes now, I +see her as she then was, her cheeks, dusky like moss roses; her hazel +eyes, so gentle and yet so full of spirit; her hair of that deepest +black which goes most fitly with poetry and with passion; her finger as +supple as a young birch tree in the wind. Ah! how she swayed away from +me when first I laid my arm round it, for she was full of fire and +pride, ever evading, ever resisting, fighting to the last that her +surrender might be the more sweet. Out of a hundred and forty women--But +who can compare where all are so near perfection! + +You will wonder why it should be, if this maiden was so beautiful, +that I should be left without a rival. There was a very good reason, my +friends, for I so arranged it that my rivals were in the hospital. There +was Hippolyte Lesoeur, he visited them for two Sundays; but if he lives, +I dare swear that he still limps from the bullet which lodges in his +knee. Poor Victor also--up to his death at Austerlitz he wore my mark. +Soon it was understood that if I could not win Marie, I should at least +have a fair field in which to try. It was said in our camp that it was +safer to charge a square of unbroken infantry than to be seen too often +at the farmhouse of the Ravons. + +Now let me be precise for a moment. Did I wish to marry Marie? Ah! my +friends, marriage is not for a Hussar. Today he is in Normandy; tomorrow +he is in the hills of Spain or in the bogs of Poland. What shall he do +with a wife? Would it be fair to either of them? Can it be right that +his courage should be blunted by the thought of the despair which his +death would bring, or is it reasonable that she should be left fearing +lest every post should bring her the news of irreparable misfortune? +A Hussar can but warm himself at the fire, and then hurry onwards, too +happy if he can but pass another fire from which some comfort may come. +And Marie, did she wish to marry me? She knew well that when our silver +trumpets blew the march it would be over the grave of our married life. +Better far to hold fast to her own people and her own soil, where she +and her husband could dwell for ever amid the rich orchards and within +sight of the great Castle of Le Galliard. Let her remember her Hussar in +her dreams, but let her waking days be spent in the world as she finds +it. Meanwhile we pushed such thoughts from our minds, and gave ourselves +up to a sweet companionship, each day complete in itself with never a +thought of the morrow. It is true that there were times when her father, +a stout old gentleman with a face like one of his own apples, and her +mother, a thin anxious woman of the country, gave me hints that they +would wish to be clearer as to my intentions; but in their hearts they +each knew well that Etienne Gerard was a man of honour, and that their +daughter was very safe as well as very happy in his keeping. So the +matter stood until the night of which I speak. + +It was the Sunday evening, and I had ridden over from the camp. There +were several of our fellows who were visiting the village, and we all +left our horses at the inn. Thence I had to walk to the Ravons, which +was only separated by a single very large field extending to the very +door. I was about to start when the landlord ran after me. "Excuse +me, lieutenant," said he, "it is farther by the road, and yet I should +advise you to take it." + +"It is a mile or more out of my way." + +"I know it. But I think that it would be wiser," and he smiled as he +spoke. + +"And why?" I asked. + +"Because," said he, "the English bull is loose in the field." + +If it were not for that odious smile, I might have considered it. But to +hold a danger over me and then to smile in such a fashion was more than +my proud temper could bear. I indicated by a gesture what I thought of +the English bull. + +"I will go by the shortest way," said I. + +I had no sooner set my foot in the field than I felt that my spirit had +betrayed me into rashness. It was a very large square field, and as I +came further out into it I felt like the cockle-shell which ventures out +from land and sees no port save that from which it has issued. There was +a wall on every side of the field save that from which I had come. In +front of me was the farmhouse of the Ravons, with wall extending to +right and left. A back door opened upon the field, and there were +several windows, but all were barred, as is usual in the Norman farms. +I pushed on rapidly to the door, as being the only harbour of safety, +walking with dignity as befits a soldier, and yet with such speed as +I could summon. From the waist upwards I was unconcerned and even +debonnaire. Below, I was swift and alert. + +I had nearly reached the middle of the field when I perceived the +creature. He was rooting about with his fore feet under a large beech +tree which lay upon my right hand. I did not turn my head, nor would +the bystander have detected that I took notice of him, but my eye was +watching him with anxiety. It may have been that he was in a contented +mood, or it may have been that he was arrested by the nonchalance of my +bearing, but he made no movement in my direction. Reassured, I fixed my +eyes upon the open window of Marie's bed-chamber, which was immediately +over the back door, in the hope that those dear, tender, dark eyes, +were surveying me from behind the curtains. I flourished my little cane, +loitered to pick a primrose, and sang one of our devil-may-care choruses +in order to insult this English beast, and to show my love how little +I cared for danger when it stood between her and me. The creature was +abashed by my fearlessness, and so, pushing open the back door, I was +able to enter the farmhouse in safety and in honour. + +And was it not worth the danger? Had all the bulls of Castile guarded +the entrance, would it not still have been worth it? Ah, the hours, the +sunny hours, which can never come back, when our youthful feet seemed +scarce to touch the ground, and we lived in a sweet dreamland of our own +creation! She honoured my courage, and she loved me for it. As she lay +with her flushed cheek pillowed against the silk of my dolman, looking +up at me with her wondering eyes, shining with love and admiration, she +marvelled at the stories in which I gave her some pictures of the true +character of her lover. + +"Has your heart never failed you? Have you never known the feeling of +fear?" she asked. I laughed at such a thought. What place could fear +have in the mind of a Hussar? Young as I was, I had given my proofs. +I told her how I had led my squadron into a square of Hungarian +Grenadiers. She shuddered as she embraced me. I told her also how I had +swum my horse over the Danube at night with a message for Davoust. To be +frank, it was not the Danube, nor was it so deep that I was compelled to +swim, but when one is twenty and in love, one tells a story as best one +can. Many such stories I told her, while her dear eyes grew more and +more amazed. + +"Never in my dreams, Etienne," said she, "did I believe that so brave a +man existed. Lucky France that has such a soldier, lucky Marie that has +such a lover!" + +You can think how I flung myself at her feet as I murmured that I was +the luckiest of all--I who had found some one who could appreciate and +understand. + +It was a charming relationship, too infinitely sweet and delicate for +the interference of coarser minds. But you can understand that the +parents imagined that they also had their duty to do. I played dominoes +with the old man, and I wound wool for his wife, and yet they could not +be led to believe that it was from love of them that I came thrice a +week to their farm. For some time an explanation was inevitable, and +that night it came. Marie, in delightful mutiny, was packed off to her +room, and I faced the old people in the parlour as they plied me with +questions upon my prospects and my intentions. + +"One way or the other," they said, in their blunt country fashion. "Let +us hear that you are betrothed to Marie, or let us never see your face +again." + +I spoke of my honour, my hopes, and my future, but they remained +immovable upon the present. I pleaded my career, but they in their +selfish way would think of nothing but their daughter. It was indeed a +difficult position in which I found myself. On the one hand, I could +not forsake my Marie; on the other, what would a young Hussar do with +marriage? At last, hard pressed, I begged them to leave the matter, if +it were only for a day. + +"I will see Marie," said I, "I will see her without delay. It is her +heart and her happiness which come before all else." + +They were not satisfied, these grumbling old people, but they could +say no more. They bade me a short good night and I departed, full +of perplexity, for the inn. I came out by the same door which I had +entered, and I heard them lock and bar it behind me. + +I walked across the field lost in thought, with my mind entirely filled +with the arguments of the old people and the skilful replies which I +had made to them. What should I do? I had promised to see Marie without +delay. What should I say to her when I did see her? Would I surrender +to her beauty and turn my back upon my profession? If Etienne Gerard's +sword were turned to a scythe, then indeed it was a bad day for the +Emperor and France. Or should I harden my heart and turn away from +Marie? Or was it not possible that all might be reconciled; that I might +be a happy husband in Normandy but a brave soldier elsewhere? All these +thoughts were buzzing in my head, when a sudden noise made me look up. +The moon had come from behind a cloud, and there was the bull before me. + +He had seemed a large animal beneath the beech tree, but now he appeared +enormous. He was black in colour. His head was held down, and the moon +shone upon two menacing and bloodshot eyes. His tail switched swiftly +from side to side, and his fore feet dug into the earth. A more +horrible-looking monster was never seen in a nightmare. He was moving +slowly and stealthily in my direction. + +I glanced behind me, and I found that in my distraction I had come +a very long way from the edge of the field. I was more than half-way +across it. My nearest refuge was the inn, but the bull was between me +and it. Perhaps if the creature understood how little I feared him, he +would make way for me. I shrugged my shoulders and made a gesture of +contempt. I even whistled. The creature thought I called it, for he +approached with alacrity. I kept my face boldly towards him, but I +walked swiftly backwards. When one is young and active, one can almost +run backwards and yet keep a brave and smiling face to the enemy. As I +ran I menaced the animal with my cane. Perhaps it would have been +wiser had I restrained my spirit. He regarded it as a challenge--which, +indeed, was the last thing in my mind. It was a misunderstanding, but a +fatal one. With a snort he raised his tail and charged. + +Have you ever seen a bull charge, my friends? It is a strange sight. You +think, perhaps, that he trots, or even that he gallops. No, it is worse +than this. It is a succession of bounds by which he advances, each more +menacing than the last. I have no fear of anything which man can do. +When I deal with man, I feel that the nobility of my own attitude, the +gallant ease with which I face him, will in itself go far to disarm him. +What he can do, I can do, so why should I fear him? But when it is a ton +of enraged beef with which you contend, it is another matter. You +cannot hope to argue, to soften, to conciliate. There is no resistance +possible. My proud assurance was all wasted upon the creature. In +an instant my ready wit had weighed every possible course, and had +determined that no one, not the Emperor himself, could hold his ground. +There was but one course--to fly. + +But one may fly in many ways. One may fly with dignity or one may fly in +panic. I fled, I trust, like a soldier. My bearing was superb though +my legs moved rapidly. My whole appearance was a protest against the +position in which I was placed. I smiled as I ran--the bitter smile of +the brave man who mocks his own fate. Had all my comrades surrounded +the field, they could not have thought the less of me when they saw the +disdain with which I avoided the bull. + +But here it is that I must make my confession. When once flight +commences, though it be ever so soldierly, panic follows hard upon it. +Was it not so with the Guard at Waterloo? So it was that night with +Etienne Gerard. After all, there was no one to note my bearing--no one +save this accursed bull. If for a minute I forgot my dignity, who would +be the wiser? Every moment the thunder of the hoofs and the horrible +snorts of the monster drew nearer to my heels. Horror filled me at the +thought of so ignoble a death. The brutal rage of the creature sent a +chill to my heart. In an instant everything was forgotten. There were +in the world but two creatures, the bull and I--he trying to kill me, I +striving to escape. I put down my head and I ran--I ran for my life. + +It was for the house of the Ravons that I raced. But even as I reached +it, it flashed into my mind that there was no refuge for me there. The +door was locked. The lower windows were barred. The wall was high upon +either side. And the bull was nearer me with every stride. But oh, my +friends, it is at that supreme moment of danger that Etienne Gerard +has ever risen to his height. There was one path to safety, and in an +instant I had chosen it. + +I have said that the window of Marie's bedroom was above the door. The +curtains were closed, but the folding sides were thrown open, and a lamp +burned in the room. Young and active, I felt that I could spring high +enough to reach the edge of the window sill and to draw myself out +of danger. The monster was within touch of me as I sprang. Had I been +unaided, I should have done what I had planned. But even as in a superb +effort I rose from the earth he butted me into the air. I shot through +the curtains as if I had been fired from a gun, and I dropped upon my +hands and knees in the centre of the room. + +There was, as it appears, a bed in the window, but I had passed over +it in safety. As I staggered to my feet I turned towards it in +consternation, but it was empty. My Marie sat in a low chair in the +corner of the room, and her flushed cheeks showed that she had been +weeping. No doubt her parents had given her some account of what had +passed between us. She was too amazed to move, and could only sit +looking at me with her mouth open. + +"Etienne!" she gasped. "Etienne!" + +In an instant I was as full of resource as ever. There was but one +course for a gentleman, and I took it. + +"Marie," I cried, "forgive, oh forgive the abruptness of my return! +Marie, I have seen your parents tonight. I could not return to the camp +without asking you whether you will make me for ever happy by promising +to be my wife?" + +It was long before she could speak, so great was her amazement. Then +every emotion was swept away in the one great flood of her admiration. + +"Oh, Etienne! my wonderful Etienne!" she cried, her arms round my neck. +"Was ever such love! Was ever such a man! As you stand there, white and +trembling with passion, you seem to me the very hero of my dreams. How +hard you breathe, my love, and what a spring it must have been which +brought you to my arms! At the instant that you came, I heard the tramp +of your war-horse without." + +There was nothing more to explain, and when one is newly betrothed, one +finds other uses for one's lips. But there was a scurry in the passage +and a pounding at the panels. At the crash of my arrival the old folk +had rushed to the cellar to see if the great cider cask had toppled off +the trestles, but now they were back and eager for admittance. I flung +open the door, and stood with Marie's hand in mine. + +"Behold your son!" I said. + +Ah, the joy which I had brought to that humble household! It warms my +heart still when I think of it. It did not seem too strange to them +that I should fly in through the window, for who should be a hot-headed +suitor if it is not a gallant Hussar? And if the door be locked, then +what way is there but the window? Once more we assembled all four in +the parlour, while the cobwebbed bottle was brought up and the ancient +glories of the House of Ravon were unrolled before me. Once more I see +the heavy-raftered room, the two old smiling faces, the golden circle +of the lamp-light, and she, my Marie, the bride of my youth, won so +strangely, and kept for so short a time. + +It was late when we parted. The old man came with me into the hall. + +"You can go by the front door or the back," said he. "The back way is +the shorter." + +"I think that I will take the front way," I answered. "It may be a bit +longer, but it will give me the more time to think of Marie." + + + + +THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE + + +A LEGEND OF THE RING + +Tom Cribb, Champion of England, having finished his active career by his +two famous battles with the terrible Molineux, had settled down into the +public house which was known as the Union Arms, at the corner of Panton +Street in the Haymarket. Behind the bar of this hostelry there was a +green baize door which opened into a large, red-papered parlour, adorned +by many sporting prints and by the numerous cups and belts which were +the treasured trophies of the famous prize-fighter's victorious career. +In this snuggery it was the custom of the Corinthians of the day to +assemble in order to discuss, over Tom Cribb's excellent wines, the +matches of the past, to await the news of the present, and to arrange +new ones for the future. Hither also came his brother pugilists, +especially such as were in poverty or distress, for the Champion's +generosity was proverbial, and no man of his own trade was ever turned +from his door if cheering words or a full meal could mend his condition. + +On the morning in question--August 25, 1818--there were but two men in +this famous snuggery. One was Cribb himself--all run to flesh since the +time seven years before, when, training for his last fight, he had done +his forty miles a day with Captain Barclay over the Highland roads. +Broad and deep, as well as tall, he was a little short of twenty stone +in weight, but his heavy, strong face and lion eyes showed that the +spirit of the prize-fighter was not yet altogether overgrown by the fat +of the publican. Though it was not eleven o'clock, a great tankard of +bitter ale stood upon the table before him, and he was busy cutting up +a plug of black tobacco and rubbing the slices into powder between his +horny fingers. For all his record of desperate battles, he looked what +he was--a good-hearted, respectable householder, law-abiding and kindly, +a happy and prosperous man. + +His companion, however, was by no means in the same easy circumstances, +and his countenance wore a very different expression. He was a tall +and well-formed man, some fifteen years younger than the Champion, and +recalling in the masterful pose of his face and in the fine spread of +his shoulders something of the manly beauty which had distinguished +Cribb at his prime. No one looking at his countenance could fail to see +that he was a fighting man by profession, and any judge of the fancy, +considering his six feet in height, his thirteen stone solid muscle, +and his beautifully graceful build, would admit that he had started his +career with advantages which, if they were only backed by the driving +power of a stout heart, must carry him far. Tom Winter, or Spring--as +he chose to call himself--had indeed come up from his Herefordshire home +with a fine country record of local successes, which had been enhanced +by two victories gained over formidable London heavy-weights. Three +weeks before, however, he had been defeated by the famous Painter, and +the set-back weighed heavily upon the young man's spirit. + +"Cheer up, lad," said the Champion, glancing across from under his +tufted eyebrows at the disconsolate face of his companion. "Indeed, Tom, +you take it overhard." + +The young man groaned, but made no reply. "Others have been beat before +you and lived to be Champions of England. Here I sit with that very +title. Was I not beat down Broadwater way by George Nicholls in 1805? +What then? I fought on, and here I am. When the big Black came from +America it was not George Nicholls they sent for. I say to you--fight +on, and by George, I'll see you in my own shoes yet!" + +Tom Spring shook his head. "Never, if I have to fight you to get there, +Daddy." + +"I can't keep it for ever, Tom. It's beyond all reason. I'm going to lay +it down before all London at the Fives Courts next year, and it's to you +that I want to hand it. I couldn't train down to it now, lad. My day's +done." + +"Well, Dad, I'll never bid for it till you choose to stand aside. After +that, it is as it may be." + +"Well, have a rest, Tom; wait for your chance, and, meantime, there's +always a bed and crust for you here." + +Spring struck his clenched fist on his knee. "I know, Daddy! Ever since +I came up from Fownthorpe you've been as good as a father to me." + +"I've an eye for a winner." + +"A pretty winner! Beat in forty rounds by Ned Painter." + +"You had beat him first." + +"And by the Lord, I will again!" + +"So you will, lad. George Nicholls would never give me another shy. Knew +too much, he did. Bought a butcher's shop in Bristol with the money, and +there he is to this day." + +"Yes, I'll come back on Painter, but I haven't a shilling left. My +backers have lost faith in me. If it wasn't for you, Daddy, I'd be in +the kennel." + +"Have you nothing left, Tom?" + +"Not the price of a meal. I left every penny I had, and my good name as +well, in the ring at Kingston. I'm hard put to it to live unless I can +get another fight, and who's going to back me now?" + +"Tut, man! the knowing ones will back you. You're the top of the list, +for all Ned Painter. But there are other ways a man may earn a bit. +There was a lady in here this morning--nothing flash, boy, a real +tip-top out-and-outer with a coronet on her coach--asking after you." + +"Asking after me! A lady!" The young pugilist stood up with surprise and +a certain horror rising in his eyes. "You don't mean, Daddy--" + +"I mean nothing but what is honest, my lad. You can lay to that!" + +"You said I could earn a bit." + +"So, perhaps, you can. Enough, anyhow, to tide you over your bad time. +There's something in the wind there. It's to do with fightin'. She asked +questions about your height, weight, and my opinion of your prospect. +You can lay that my answers did you no harm." + +"She ain't making a match, surely?" + +"Well, she seemed to know a tidy bit about it. She asked about George +Cooper, and Richmond the Black, and Tom Oliver, always comin' back to +you, and wantin' to know if you were not the pick of the bunch. _And_ +trustworthy. That was the other point. Could she trust you? Lord, +Tom, if you was a fightin' archangel you could hardly live up to the +character that I've given you." + +A drawer looked in from the bar. "If you please, Mr. Cribb, the lady's +carriage is back again." + +The Champion laid down his long clay pipe. "This way, lad," said he, +plucking his young friend by the sleeve towards the side window. "Look +there, now! Saw you ever a more slap-up carriage? See, too, the pair of +bays--two hundred guineas apiece. Coachman, too, and footman--you'd find +'em hard to beat. There she is now, stepping out of it. Wait here, lad, +till I do the honours of my house." + +Tom Cribb slipped off, and young Spring remained by the window, tapping +the glass nervously with his fingers, for he was a simple-minded country +lad with no knowledge of women, and many fears of the traps which await +the unwary in a great city. Many stories were afloat of pugilists who +had been taken up and cast aside again by wealthy ladies, even as the +gladiators were in decadent Rome. It was with some suspicion therefore, +and considerable inward trepidation, that he faced round as a tall +veiled figure swept into the room. He was much consoled, however, to +observe the bulky form of Tom Cribb immediately behind her as a proof +that the interview was not to be a private one. When the door was +closed, the lady very deliberately removed her gloves. Then with fingers +which glittered with diamonds she slowly rolled up and adjusted her +heavy veil. Finally, she turned her face upon Spring. + +"Is this the man?" said she. + +They stood looking at each other with mutual interest, which warmed +in both their faces into mutual admiration. What she saw was as fine a +figure of a young man as England could show, none the less attractive +for the restrained shyness of his manner and the blush which flushed his +cheeks. What he saw was a woman of thirty, tall, dark, queen-like, and +imperious, with a lovely face, every line and feature of which told of +pride and breed, a woman born to Courts, with the instinct of command +strong within her, and yet with all the softer woman's graces to temper +and conceal the firmness of her soul. Tom Spring felt as he looked at +her that he had never seen nor ever dreamed of any one so beautiful, and +yet he could not shake off the instinct which warned him to be upon his +guard. Yes, it was beautiful, this face--beautiful beyond belief. +But was it good, was it kind, was it true? There was some strange +subconscious repulsion which mingled with his admiration for her +loveliness. As to the lady's thoughts, she had already put away all idea +of the young pugilist as a man, and regarded him now with critical eyes +as a machine designed for a definite purpose. + +"I am glad to meet you, Mr.--Mr. Spring," said she, looking him over +with as much deliberation as a dealer who is purchasing a horse. "He +is hardly as tall as I was given to understand, Mr. Cribb. You said six +feet, I believe?" + +"So he is, ma'am, but he carries it so easy. It's only the beanstalk +that looks tall. See here, I'm six foot myself, and our heads are level, +except I've lost my fluff." + +"What is the chest measurement?" + +"Forty-three inches, ma'am." + +"You certainly seem to be a very strong young man. And a game one, too, +I hope?" + +Young Spring shrugged his shoulders. + +"It's not for me to say, ma'am." + +"I can speak for that, ma'am," said Cribb. "You read the _Sporting +Chronicle_ for three weeks ago, ma'am. You'll see how he stood up to Ned +Painter until his senses were beat out of him. I waited on him, ma'am, +and I know. I could show you my waistcoat now--that would let you guess +what punishment he can take." + +The lady waved aside the illustration. "But he was beat," said she, +coldly. "The man who beat him must be the better man." + +"Saving your presence, ma'am, I think not, and outside Gentleman Jackson +my judgment would stand against any in the ring. My lad here has beat +Painter once, and will again, if your ladyship could see your way to +find the battle-money." + +The lady started and looked angrily at the Champion. + +"Why do you call me that?" + +"I beg pardon. It was just my way of speaking." + +"I order you not to do it again." + +"Very good, ma'am." + +"I am here incognito. I bind you both upon your honours to make no +inquiry as to who I am. If I do not get your firm promise, the matter +ends here." + +"Very good, ma'am. I'll promise for my own part, and so, I am sure, +will Spring. But if I may be so bold, I can't help my drawers and potmen +talking with your servants." + +"The coachman and footman know just as much about me as you do. But my +time is limited, so I must get to business. I think, Mr. Spring, that +you are in want of something to do at present?" + +"That is so, ma'am." + +"I understand from Mr. Cribb that you are prepared to fight any one at +any weight?" + +"Anything on two legs," cried the Champion. "Who did you wish me to +fight?" asked the young pugilist. + +"That cannot concern you. If you are really ready to fight any one, +then the particular name can be of no importance. I have my reasons for +withholding it." + +"Very good, ma'am." + +"You have been only a few weeks out of training. How long would it take +you to get back to your best?" + +"Three weeks or a month." + +"Well, then, I will pay your training expenses and two pounds a week +over. Here are five pounds as a guarantee. You will fight when I +consider that you are ready, and that the circumstances are favourable. +If you win your fight, you shall have fifty pounds. Are you satisfied +with the terms?" + +"Very handsome, ma'am, I'm sure." + +"And remember, Mr. Spring, I choose you, not because you are the best +man--for there are two opinions about that--but because I am given to +understand that you are a decent man whom I can trust. The terms of this +match are to be secret." + +"I understand that. I'll say nothing." + +"It is a private match. Nothing more. You will begin your training +tomorrow." + +"Very good, ma'am." + +"I will ask Mr. Cribb to train you." + +"I'll do that, ma'am, with pleasure. But, by your leave, does he have +anything if he loses?" + +A spasm of emotion passed over the woman's face and her hands clenched +white with passion. + +"If he loses, not a penny, not a penny!" she cried. "He must not, shall +not lose!" + +"Well, ma'am," said Spring, "I've never heard of any such match. But +it's true that I am down at heel, and beggars can't be choosers. I'll +do just what you say. I'll train till you give the word, and then I'll +fight where you tell me. I hope you'll make it a large ring." + +"Yes," said she; "it will be a large ring." + +"And how far from London?" + +"Within a hundred miles. Have you anything else to say? My time is up." + +"I'd like to ask, ma'am," said the Champion, earnestly, "whether I can +act as the lad's second when the time comes. I've waited on him the last +two fights. Can I give him a knee?" + +"No," said the woman, sharply. Without another word she turned and +was gone, shutting the door behind her. A few moments later the trim +carriage flashed past the window, turned down the crowded Haymarket, and +was engulfed in the traffic. + +The two men looked at each other in silence. + +"Well, blow my dicky, if this don't beat cockfightin'!" cried Tom Cribb +at last. "Anyhow, there's the fiver, lad. But it's a rum go, and no +mistake about it." + +After due consultation, it was agreed that Tom Spring should go into +training at the Castle Inn on Hampstead Heath, so that Cribb could drive +over and watch him. Thither Spring went on the day after the interview +with his patroness, and he set to work at once with drugs, dumb-bells, +and breathers on the common to get himself into condition. It was hard, +however, to take the matter seriously, and his good-natured trainer +found the same difficulty. + +"It's the baccy I miss, Daddy," said the young pugilist, as they sat +together on the afternoon of the third day. "Surely there can't be any +harm in my havin' a pipe?" + +"Well, well, lad, it's against my conscience, but here's my box and +there's a yard o' clay," said the Champion. "My word, I don't know what +Captain Barclay of Ury would have said if he had seen a man smoke when +he was in trainin'! He was the man to work you! He had me down from +sixteen to thirteen the second time I fought the Black." + +Spring had lit his pipe and was leaning back amid a haze of blue smoke. + +"It was easy for you, Daddy, to keep strict trainin' when you knew what +was before you. You had your date and your place and your man. You knew +that in a month you would jump the ropes with ten thousand folk round +you, and carrying maybe a hundred thousand in bets. You knew also the +man you had to meet, and you wouldn't give him the better of you. But +it's all different with me. For all I know, this is just a woman's whim, +and will end in nothing. If I was sure it was serious, I'd break this +pipe before I would smoke it." + +Tom Cribb scratched his head in puzzlement. + +"I can make nothing of it, lad, 'cept that her money is good. Come to +think of it, how many men on the list could stand up to you for half an +hour? It can't be Stringer, 'cause you've beat him. Then there's Cooper; +but he's up Newcastle way. It can't be him. There's Richmond; but you +wouldn't need to take your coat off to beat him. There's the Gasman; but +he's not twelve stone. And there's Bill Neat of Bristol. That's it, lad. +The lady has taken into her head to put you up against either the Gasman +or Bill Neat." + +"But why not say so? I'd train hard for the Gasman and harder for Bill +Neat, but I'm blowed if I can train, with any heart when I'm fightin' +nobody in particular and everybody in general, same as now." + +There was a sudden interruption to the speculations of the two +prize-fighters. The door opened and the lady entered. As her eyes fell +upon the two men her dark, handsome face flushed with anger, and she +gazed at them silently with an expression of contempt which brought them +both to their feet with hangdog faces. There they stood, their long, +reeking pipes in their hands, shuffling and downcast, like two great +rough mastiffs before an angry mistress. + +"So!" said she, stamping her foot furiously. "And this is training!" + +"I'm sure we're very sorry, ma'am," said the abashed Champion. "I didn't +think--I never for one moment supposed--" + +"That I would come myself to see if you were taking my money on false +pretences? No, I dare say not. You fool!" she blazed, turning suddenly +upon Tom Spring. "You'll be beat. That will be the end of it." + +The young man looked up with an angry face. + +"I'll trouble you not to call me names, ma'am. I've my self-respect, +the same as you. I'll allow that I shouldn't have smoked when I was in +trainin'. But I was saying to Tom Cribb here, just before you came in, +that if you would give over treatin' us as if we were children, and if +you would tell us just who it is you want me to fight, and when, and +where, it would be a deal easier for me to take myself in hand." + +"It's true, ma'am," said the Champion. "I know it must be either the +Gasman or Bill Neat. There's no one else. So give me the office, and +I'll promise to have him as fit as a trout on the day." + +The lady laughed contemptuously. + +"Do you think," said she, "that no one can fight save those who make a +living by it?" + +"By George, it's an amateur!" cried Cribb, in amazement. "But you don't +surely ask Tom Spring to train for three weeks to meet a Corinthian?" + +"I will say nothing more of who it is. It is no business of yours," the +lady answered fiercely. "All I _do_ say is, that if you do not train +I will cast you aside and take some one who will. Do not think you can +fool me because I am a woman. I have learned the points of the game as +well as any man." + +"I saw that the very first word you spoke," said Cribb. + +"Then don't forget it. I will not warn you again. If I have occasion to +find fault I shall choose another man." + +"And you won't tell me who I am to fight?" + +"Not a word. But you can take it from me that at your very best it will +take you, or any man in England, all your time to master him. Now, get +back this instant to your work, and never let me find you shirking it +again." With imperious eyes she looked the two strong men down, and +then, turning on her heel, she swept out of the room. + +The Champion whistled as the door closed behind her, and mopped his brow +with his red bandanna handkerchief as he looked across at his abashed +companion. "My word, lad," said he, "it's earnest from this day on." + +"Yes," said Tom Spring, solemnly, "it's earnest from this day on." + +In the course of the next fortnight the lady made several surprise +visits to see that her champion was being properly prepared for the +contest which lay before him. At the most unexpected moments she would +burst into the training quarters, but never again had she to complain of +any slackness upon his part or that of his trainer. With long bouts +of the gloves, with thirty-mile walks, with mile runs at the back of +a mailcart with a bit of blood between the shafts, with interminable +series of jumps with a skipping-rope, he was sweated down until his +trainer was able to proudly proclaim that "the last ounce of tallow is +off him and he is ready to fight for his life." Only once was the +lady accompanied by any one upon these visits of inspection. Upon this +occasion a tall young man was her companion. He was graceful in figure, +aristocratic in his bearing, and would have been strikingly handsome had +it not been for some accident which had shattered his nose and broken +all the symmetry of his features. He stood in silence with moody eyes +and folded arms, looking at the splendid torso of the prize-fighter as, +stripped to the waist, he worked with his dumbbells. + +"Don't you think he will do?" said the lady. + +The young swell shrugged his shoulders. "I don't like it, _cara mia_. I +can't pretend that I like it." + +"You must like it, George. I have set my very heart on it." + +"It is not English, you know. Lucrezia Borgia and Mediaeval Italy. +Woman's love and woman's hatred are always the same, but this particular +manifestation of it seems to me out of place in nineteenth-century +London." + +"Is not a lesson needed?" + +"Yes, yes; but one would think there were other ways." + +"You tried another way. What did you get out of that?" + +The young man smiled rather grimly, as he turned up his cuff and looked +at a puckered hole in his wrist. + +"Not much, certainly," said he. + +"You've tried and failed." + +"Yes, I must admit it." + +"What else is there? The law?" + +"Good gracious, no!" + +"Then it is my turn, George, and I won't be balked." + +"I don't think any one is capable of balking you, _cara mia_. Certainly +I, for one, should never dream of trying. But I don't feel as if I could +co-operate." + +"I never asked you to." + +"No, you certainly never did. You are perfectly capable of doing it +alone. I think, with your leave, if you have quite done with your +prize-fighter, we will drive back to London. I would not for the world +miss Goldoni in the Opera." + +So they drifted away; he, frivolous and dilettante, she with her face as +set as Fate, leaving the fighting men to their business. + +And now the day came when Cribb was able to announce to his employer +that his man was as fit as science could make him. + +"I can do no more, ma'am. He's fit to fight for a kingdom. Another week +would see him stale." + +The lady looked Spring over with the eye of a connoisseur. + +"I think he does you credit," she said at last. "Today is Tuesday. He +will fight the day after tomorrow." + +"Very good, ma'am. Where shall he go?" + +"I will tell you exactly, and you will please take careful note of all +that I say. You, Mr. Cribb, will take your man down to the Golden Cross +Inn at Charing Cross by nine o'clock on Wednesday morning. He will take +the Brighton coach as far as Tunbridge Wells, where he will alight at +the Royal Oak Arms. There he will take such refreshment as you advise +before a fight. He will wait at the Royal Oak Arms until he receives +a message by word, or by letter, brought him by a groom in a mulberry +livery. This message will give him his final instructions." + +"And I am not to come?" + +"No," said the lady. + +"But surely, ma'am," he pleaded, "I may come as far as Tunbridge Wells? +It's hard on a man to train a cove for a fight and then to leave him." + +"It can't be helped. You are too well known. Your arrival would spread +all over the town, and my plans might suffer. It is quite out of the +question that you should come." + +"Well, I'll do what you tell me, but it's main hard." + +"I suppose," said Spring, "you would have me bring my fightin' shorts +and my spiked shoes?" + +"No; you will kindly bring nothing whatever which may point to your +trade. I would have you wear just those clothes in which I saw you +first, such clothes as any mechanic or artisan might be expected to +wear." + +Tom Cribb's blank face had assumed an expression of absolute despair. + +"No second, no clothes, no shoes--it don't seem regular. I give you my +word, ma'am, I feel ashamed to be mixed up in such a fight. I don't know +as you can call the thing a fight where there is no second. It's just +a scramble--nothing more. I've gone too far to wash my hands of it now, +but I wish I had never touched it." + +In spite of all professional misgivings on the part of the Champion and +his pupil, the imperious will of the woman prevailed, and everything +was carried out exactly as she had directed. At nine o'clock Tom Spring +found himself upon the box-seat of the Brighton coach, and waved his +hand in goodbye to burly Tom Cribb, who stood, the admired of a ring of +waiters and ostlers, upon the doorstep of the Golden Cross. It was in +the pleasant season when summer is mellowing into autumn, and the +first golden patches are seen amid the beeches and the ferns. The young +country-bred lad breathed more freely when he had left the weary streets +of Southwark and Lewisham behind him, and he watched with delight the +glorious prospect as the coach, whirled along by six dapple greys, +passed by the classic grounds of Knowle, or after crossing Riverside +Hill skirted the vast expanse of the Weald of Kent. Past Tonbridge +School went the coach, and on through Southborough, until it wound down +a steep, curving road with strange outcrops of sandstone beside it, and +halted before a great hostelry, bearing the name which had been given +him in his directions. He descended, entered the coffee-room, and +ordered the underdone steak which his trainer had recommended. Hardly +had he finished it when a servant with a mulberry coat and a peculiarly +expressionless face entered the apartment. + +"Beg your pardon, sir, are you Mr. Spring--Mr. Thomas Spring, of +London?" + +"That is my name, young man." + +"Then the instructions which I had to give you are that you wait for one +hour after your meal. After that time you will find me in a phaeton at +the door, and I will drive you in the right direction." + +The young pugilist had never been daunted by any experience which had +befallen him in the ring. The rough encouragement of his backers, the +surge and shouting of the multitude, and the sight of his opponent had +always cheered his stout heart and excited him to prove himself worthy +of being the centre of such a scene. But his loneliness and uncertainty +were deadly. He flung himself down on the horse-hair couch and tried to +doze, but his mind was too restless and excited. Finally he rose, and +paced up and down the empty room. Suddenly he was aware of a great +rubicund face which surveyed him from round the angle of the door. Its +owner, seeing that he was observed, pushed forward into the room. + +"I beg pardon, sir," said he, "but surely I have the honour of talking +to Mr. Thomas Spring?" + +"At your service," said the young man. + +"Bless me! I am vastly honoured to have you under my roof! Cordery is +my name, sir, landlord of this old-fashioned inn. I thought that my eyes +could not deceive me. I am a patron of the ring, sir, in my own humble +way, and was present at Moulsey in September last, when you beat Jack +Stringer of Rawcliffe. A very fine fight, sir, and very handsomely +fought, if I may make bold to say so. I have a right to an opinion, sir, +for there's never been a fight for many a year in Kent or Sussex that +you wouldn't find Joe Cordery at the ring-side. Ask Mr. Gregson at the +Chop-house in Holborn and he'll tell you about old Joe Cordery. By the +way, Mr. Spring, I suppose it is not business that has brought you down +into these parts? Any one can see with half an eye that you are trained +to a hair. I'd take it very kindly if you would give me the office." + +It crossed Spring's mind that if he were frank with the landlord it was +more than likely that he would receive more information than he could +give. He was a man of his word, however, and he remembered his promise +to his employer. + +"Just a quiet day in the country, Mr. Cordery. That's all." + +"Dear me! I had hoped there was a mill in the wind. I've a nose for +these things, Mr. Spring, and I thought I had a whiff of it. But, of +course, you should know best. Perhaps you will drive round with me this +afternoon and view the hop-gardens--just the right time of year, sir." + +Tom Spring was not very skilful in deception, and his stammering excuses +may not have been very convincing to the landlord, or finally persuaded +him that his original supposition was wrong. In the midst of the +conversation, however, the waiter entered with the news that a phaeton +was waiting at the door. The innkeeper's eyes shone with suspicion and +eagerness. + +"I thought you said you knew no one in these parts, Mr. Spring?" + +"Just one kind friend, Mr. Cordery, and he has sent his gig for me. It's +likely that I will take the night coach to town. But I'll look in after +an hour or two and have a dish of tea with you." + +Outside the mulberry servant was sitting behind a fine black horse in +a phaeton, which had two seats in front and two behind. Tom Spring +was about to climb up beside him, when the servant whispered that his +directions were that he should sit behind. Then the phaeton whirled +away, while the excited landlord, more convinced than ever that there +was something in the wind, rushed into his stable-yard with shrieks to +his ostlers, and in a very few minutes was in hot pursuit, waiting at +every cross-road until he could hear tidings of a black horse and a +mulberry livery. + +The phaeton meanwhile drove in the direction of Crowborough. Some miles +out it turned from the high-road into a narrow lane spanned by a tawny +arch of beech trees. Through this golden tunnel a lady was walking, tall +and graceful, her back to the phaeton. As it came abreast of her she +stood aside and looked up, while the coachman pulled up the horse. + +"I trust that you are at your best," said she, looking very earnestly at +the prize-fighter. "How do you feel?" + +"Pretty tidy, ma'am, I thank you." + +"I will get up beside you, Johnson. We have some way to go. You will +drive through the Lower Warren, and then take the lane which skirts the +Gravel Hanger. I will tell you where to stop. Go slowly, for we are not +due for twenty minutes." + +Feeling as if the whole business was some extraordinary dream, the young +pugilist passed through a network of secluded lanes, until the phaeton +drew up at a wicket gate which led into a plantation of firs, choked +with a thick undergrowth. Here the lady descended and beckoned Spring to +alight. + +"Wait down the lane," said she to the coachman. "We shall be some little +time. Now, Mr. Spring, will you kindly follow me? I have written a +letter which makes an appointment." + +She passed swiftly through the plantation by a tortuous path, then +over a stile, and past another wood, loud with the deep chuckling of +pheasants. At the farther side was a fine rolling park, studded with +oak trees, and stretching away to a splendid Elizabethan mansion, with +balustraded terraces athwart its front. Across the park, and making for +the wood, a solitary figure was walking. + +The lady gripped the prize-fighter by the wrist. "That is your man," +said she. + +They were standing under the shadow of the trees, so that he was very +visible to them, while they were out of his sight. Tom Spring looked +hard at the man, who was still some hundreds of yards away. He was a +tall, powerful fellow, clad in a blue coat with gilt buttons, which +gleamed in the sun. He had white corded breeches and riding-boots. He +walked with a vigorous step, and with every few strides he struck +his leg with a dog-whip which hung from his wrist. There was a great +suggestion of purpose and of energy in the man's appearance and bearing. + +"Why, he's a gentleman!" said Spring. "Look 'ere, ma'am, this is all a +bit out of my line. I've nothing against the man, and he can mean me no +harm. What am I to do with him?" + +"Fight him! Smash him! That is what you are here for." + +Tom Spring turned on his heel with disgust. "I'm here to fight, ma'am, +but not to smash a man who has no thought of fighting. It's off." + +"You don't like the look of him," hissed the woman. "You have met your +master." + +"That is as may be. It is no job for me." + +The woman's face was white with vexation and anger. + +"You fool!" she cried. "Is all to go wrong at the last minute? There are +fifty pounds here they are in this paper--would you refuse them?" + +"It's a cowardly business. I won't do it." + +"Cowardly? You are giving the man two stone, and he can beat any amateur +in England." + +The young pugilist felt relieved. After all, if he could fairly earn +that fifty pounds, a good deal depended upon his winning it. If he could +only be sure that this was a worthy and willing antagonist! + +"How do you know he is so good?" he asked. + +"I ought to know. I am his wife." + +As she spoke she turned, and was gone like a flash among the bushes. The +man was quite close now, and Tom Spring's scruples weakened as he looked +at him. He was a powerful, broad-chested fellow, about thirty, with a +heavy, brutal face, great thatched eyebrows, and a hard-set mouth. He +could not be less than fifteen stone in weight, and he carried himself +like a trained athlete. As he swung along he suddenly caught a glimpse +of Spring among the trees, and he at once quickened his pace and sprang +over the stile which separated them. + +"Halloa!" said he, halting a few yards from him, and staring him up and +down. "Who the devil are you, and where the devil did you come from, and +what the devil are you doing on my property?" + +His manner was even more offensive than his words. It brought a flush of +anger to Spring's cheeks. + +"See here, mister," said he, "civil words is cheap. You've no call to +speak to me like that." + +"You infernal rascal!" cried the other. "I'll show you the way out of +that plantation with the toe of my boot. Do you dare to stand there on +my land and talk back at me?" He advanced with a menacing face and his +dog-whip half raised. "Well, are you going?" he cried, as he swung it +into the air. + +Tom Spring jumped back to avoid the threatened blow. + +"Go slow, mister," said he. "It's only fair that you should know where +you are. I'm Spring, the prize-fighter. Maybe you have heard my name." + +"I thought you were a rascal of that breed," said the man. "I've had the +handling of one or two of you gentry before, and I never found one that +could stand up to me for five minutes. Maybe you would like to try?" + +"If you hit me with that dog-whip, mister----" + +"There, then!" He gave the young man a vicious cut across the shoulder. +"Will that help you to fight?" + +"I came here to fight," said Tom Spring, licking his dry lips. "You can +drop that whip, mister, for I _will_ fight. I'm a trained man and ready. +But you would have it. Don't blame me." + +The man was stripping the blue coat from his broad shoulders. There +was a sprigged satin vest beneath it, and they were hung together on an +alder branch. + +"Trained are you?" he muttered. "By the Lord, I'll train you before I am +through!" + +Any fears that Tom Spring may have had lest he should be taking some +unfair advantage were set at rest by the man's assured manner and by the +splendid physique, which became more apparent as he discarded a black +satin tie, with a great ruby glowing in its centre, and threw aside +the white collar which cramped his thick muscular neck. He then, very +deliberately, undid a pair of gold sleeve-links, and, rolling up his +shirt-sleeves, disclosed two hairy and muscular arms, which would have +served as a model for a sculptor. + +"Come nearer the stile," said he, when he had finished. "There is more +room." + +The prize-fighter had kept pace with the preparations of his formidable +antagonist. His own hat, coat, and vest hung suspended upon a bush. He +advanced now into the open space which the other had indicated. + +"Ruffianing or fighting?" asked the amateur, coolly. + +"Fighting." + +"Very good," said the other. "Put up your hands, Spring. Try it out." + +They were standing facing one another in a grassy ring intersected by +the path at the outlet of the wood. The insolent and overbearing look +had passed away from the amateur's face, but a grim half-smile was on +his lips and his eyes shone fiercely from under his tufted brows. From +the way in which he stood it was very clear that he was a past-master at +the game. Tom Spring, as he paced lightly to right and left, looking for +an opening, became suddenly aware that neither with Stringer nor with +the redoubtable Painter himself had he ever faced a more business-like +opponent. The amateur's left was well forward, his guard low, his body +leaning back from the haunches, and his head well out of danger. Spring +tried a light lead at the mark, and another at the face, but in an +instant his adversary was on to him with a shower of sledge-hammer blows +which it took him all his time to avoid. He sprang back, but there was +no getting away from that whirlwind of muscle and bone. A heavy blow +beat down his guard, a second landed on his shoulder, and over went the +prize-fighter with the other on the top of him. Both sprang to their +feet, glared at each other, and fell into position once more. + +There could be no doubt that the amateur was not only heavier, but also +the harder and stronger man. Twice again he rushed Spring down, once by +the weight of his blows, and once by closing and hurling him on to his +back. Such falls might have shaken the fight out of a less game man, but +to Tom Spring they were but incidents in his daily trade. Though bruised +and winded he was always up again in an instant. Blood was trickling +from his mouth, but his steadfast blue eyes told of the unshaken spirit +within. + +He was accustomed now to his opponent's rushing tactics, and he was +ready for them. The fourth round was the same as to attack, but it was +very different in defence. Up to now the young man had given way and +been fought down. This time he stood his ground. As his opponent +rushed in he met him with a tremendous straight hit from his left hand, +delivered with the full force of his body, and doubled in effect by the +momentum of the charge. So stunning was the concussion that the pugilist +himself recoiled from it across the grassy ring. The amateur staggered +back and leaned his shoulder on a tree-trunk, his hand up to his face. + +"You'd best drop it," said Spring. "You'll get pepper if you don't." + +The other gave an inarticulate curse, and spat out a mouthful of blood. + +"Come on!" said he. + +Even now the pugilist found that he had no light task before him. Warned +by his misadventure, the heavier man no longer tried to win the battle +at a rush, nor to beat down an accomplished boxer as he would a country +hawbuck at a village fair. He fought with his head and his feet as well +as with his hands. Spring had to admit in his heart that, trained to +the ring, this man must have been a match for the best. His guard was +strong, his counter was like lightning, he took punishment like a man +of iron, and when he could safely close he always brought his lighter +antagonist to the ground with a shattering fall. But the one stunning +blow which he had courted before he was taught respect for his adversary +weighed heavily on him all the time. His senses had lost something of +their quickness and his blows of their sting. He was fighting, too, +against a man who, of all the boxers who have made their names great, +was the safest, the coolest, the least likely to give anything away, or +lose an advantage gained. Slowly, gradually, round by round, he was worn +down by his cool, quick-stepping, sharp-hitting antagonist. At last he +stood exhausted, breathing hoarsely, his face, what could be seen of it, +purple with his exertions. He had reached the limit of human endurance. +His opponent stood waiting for him, bruised and beaten, but as cool, as +ready, as dangerous as ever. + +"You'd best drop it, I tell you," said he. "You're done." + +But the other's manhood would not have it so. With a snarl of fury he +cast his science to the winds, and rushed madly to slogging with both +hands. For a moment Spring was overborne. Then he side-stepped swiftly; +there was the crash of his blow, and the amateur tossed up his arms and +fell all asprawl, his great limbs outstretched, his disfigured face to +the sky. + +For a moment Tom Spring stood looking down at his unconscious opponent. +The next he felt a soft, warm hand upon his bare arm. The woman was at +his elbow. + +"Now is your time!" she cried, her dark eyes aflame. "Go in! Smash him!" + +Spring shook her off with a cry of disgust, but she was back in an +instant. + +"I'll make it seventy-five pounds--" + +"The fight's over, ma'am. I can't touch him." + +"A hundred pounds--a clear hundred! I have it here in my bodice. Would +you refuse a hundred?" + +He turned on his heel. She darted past him and tried to kick at the face +of the prostrate man. Spring dragged her roughly away, before she could +do him a mischief. + +"Stand clear!" he cried, giving her a shake. "You should take shame to +hit a fallen man." + +With a groan the injured man turned on his side. Then he slowly sat +up and passed his wet hand over his face. Finally, he staggered to his +feet. + +"Well," he said, shrugging his broad shoulders, "it was a fair fight. +I've no complaint to make. I was Jackson's favourite pupil, but I give +you best." Suddenly his eyes lit upon the furious face of the woman. +"Hulloa, Betty!" he cried. "So I have you to thank. I might have guessed +it when I had your letter." + +"Yes, my lord," said she, with a mock curtsey. "You have me to thank. +Your little wife managed it all. I lay behind those bushes, and I saw +you beaten like a hound. You haven't had all that I had planned for you, +but I think it will be some little time before any woman loves you for +the sake of your appearance. Do you remember the words, my lord? Do you +remember the words?" + +He stood stunned for a moment. Then he snatched his whip from the +ground, and looked at her from under his heavy brows. + +"I believe you're the devil!" he cried. + +"I wonder what the governess will think?" said she. + +He flared into furious rage and rushed at her with his whip. Tom Spring +threw himself before him with his arms out. + +"It won't do, sir; I can't stand by." + +The man glared at his wife over the prize-fighter's shoulder. + +"So it's for dear George's sake!" he said, with a bitter laugh. "But +poor, broken-nosed George seems to have gone to the wall. Taken up with +a prize-fighter, eh? Found a fancy man for yourself!" + +"You liar!" she gasped. + +"Ha, my lady, that stings your pride, does it? Well, you shall stand +together in the dock for trespass and assault. What a picture--great +Lord, what a picture!" + +"You wouldn't, John!" + +"Wouldn't I, by--! you stay there three minutes and see if I wouldn't." +He seized his clothes from the bush, and staggered off as swiftly as he +could across the field, blowing a whistle as he ran. + +"Quick! quick!" cried the woman. "There's not an instant to lose." Her +face was livid, and she was shivering and panting with apprehension. +"He'll raise the country. It would be awful--awful!" + +She ran swiftly down the tortuous path, Spring following after her and +dressing as he went. In a field to the right a gamekeeper, his gun in +his hand, was hurrying towards the whistling. Two labourers, loading +hay, had stopped their work and were looking about them, their +pitchforks in their hands. + +But the path was empty, and the phaeton awaited them, the horse cropping +the grass by the lane-side, the driver half asleep on his perch. The +woman sprang swiftly in and motioned Spring to stand by the wheel. + +"There is your fifty pounds," she said, handing him a paper. "You were +a fool not to turn it into a hundred when you had the chance. I've done +with you now." + +"But where am I to go?" asked the prize-fighter, gazing around him at +the winding lanes. + +"To the devil!" said she. "Drive on, Johnson!" + +The phaeton whirled down the road and vanished round a curve. Tom Spring +was alone. + +Everywhere over the countryside he heard shoutings and whistlings. It +was clear that so long as she escaped the indignity of sharing his fate +his employer was perfectly indifferent as to whether he got into trouble +or not. Tom Spring began to feel indifferent himself. He was weary +to death, his head was aching from the blows and falls which he had +received, and his feelings were raw from the treatment which he had +undergone. He walked slowly some few yards down the lane, but had no +idea which way to turn to reach Tunbridge Wells. In the distance he +heard the baying of dogs, and he guessed that they were being set upon +his track. In that case he could not hope to escape them, and might just +as well await them where he was. He picked out a heavy stake from the +hedge, and he sat down moodily waiting, in a very dangerous temper, for +what might befall him. + +But it was a friend and not a foe who came first into sight. Round the +corner of the lane flew a small dog-cart, with a fast-trotting chestnut +cob between the shafts. In it was seated the rubicund landlord of the +Royal Oak, his whip going, his face continually flying round to glance +behind him. + +"Jump in, Mr. Spring jump in!" he cried, as he reined up. "They're all +coming, dogs and men! Come on! Now, hud up, Ginger!" Not another word +did he say until two miles of lanes had been left behind them at racing +speed and they were back in safety upon the Brighton road. Then he let +the reins hang loose on the pony's back, and he slapped Tom Spring with +his fat hand upon the shoulder. + +"Splendid!" he cried, his great red face shining with ecstasy. "Oh, +Lord! but it was beautiful!" + +"What!" cried Spring. "You saw the fight?" + +"Every round of it! By George! to think that I should have lived to have +had such a fight all to myself! Oh, but it was grand," he cried, in a +frenzy of delight, "to see his lordship go down like a pithed ox and +her ladyship clapping her hands behind the bush! I guessed there was +something in the wind, and I followed you all the way. When you stopped, +I tethered little Ginger in a grove, and I crept after you through the +wood. It's as well I did, for the whole parish was up!" + +But Tom Spring was sitting gazing at him in blank amazement. + +"His lordship!" he gasped. + +"No less, my boy. Lord Falconbridge, Chairman of the Bench, Deputy +Lieutenant of the County, Peer of the Realm--that's your man." + +"Good Lord!" + +"And you didn't know? It's as well, for maybe you wouldn't have whacked +it in as hard if you had; and, mind you, if you hadn't, he'd have beat +you. There's not a man in this county could stand up to him. He takes +the poachers and gipsies two and three at a time. He's the terror of the +place. But you did him--did him fair. Oh, man, it was fine!" + +Tom Spring was too much dazed by what he heard to do more than sit and +wonder. It was not until he had got back to the comforts of the inn, and +after a bath had partaken of a solid meal, that he sent for Mr. Cordery +the landlord. To him he confided the whole train of events which had led +up to his remarkable experience, and he begged him to throw such light +as he could upon it. Cordery listened with keen interest and many +chuckles to the story. Finally he left the room and returned with a +frayed newspaper in his hand, which he smoothed out upon his knee. + +"It's the _Pantiles Gazette_, Mr. Spring, as gossiping a rag as ever was +printed. I expect there will be a fine column in it if ever it gets its +prying nose into this day's doings. However, we are mum and her ladyship +is mum, and, my word! his lordship is mum, though he did, in his +passion, raise the hue and cry on you. Here it is, Mr. Spring, and I'll +read it to you while you smoke your pipe. It's dated July of last year, +and it goes like this-- + +"'FRACAS IN HIGH LIFE.--It is an open secret that the differences which +have for some years been known to exist between Lord F---- and his +beautiful wife have come to a head during the last few days. His +lordship's devotion to sport, and also, as it is whispered, some +attentions which he has shown to a humbler member of his household, +have, it is said, long alienated Lady F----'s affection. Of late she +has sought consolation and friendship with a gentleman whom we will +designate as Sir George W----n. Sir George, who is a famous ladykiller, +and as well-proportioned a man as any in England, took kindly to the +task of consoling the disconsolate fair. The upshot, however, was +vastly unfortunate, both for the lady's feelings and for the gentleman's +beauty. The two friends were surprised in a rendezvous near the house +by Lord F---- himself at the head of a party of his servants. Lord F---- +then and there, in spite of the shrieks of the lady, availed himself of +his strength and skill to administer such punishment to the unfortunate +Lothario as would, in his own parting words, prevent any woman from +loving him again for the sake of his appearance. Lady F---- has left +his lordship and betaken herself to London, where, no doubt, she is now +engaged in nursing the damaged Apollo. It is confidently expected that a +duel will result from the affair, but no particulars have reached us up +to the hour of going to press.'" + +The landlord laid down the paper. "You've been moving in high life, Mr. +Thomas Spring," said he. + +The pugilist passed his hand over his battered face. "Well, Mr. +Cordery," said he, "low life is good enough for me." + + + + +OUT OF THE RUNNING + + +It was on the North Side of Butser on the long swell of the Hampshire +Downs. Beneath, some two miles away, the grey roofs and red houses of +Petersfield peeped out from amid the trees which surrounded it. From +the crest of the low hills downwards the country ran in low, sweeping +curves, as though some green primeval sea had congealed in the midst +of a ground swell and set for ever into long verdant rollers. At the +bottom, just where the slope borders upon the plain, there stood a +comfortable square brick farmhouse, with a grey plume of smoke floating +up from the chimney. Two cowhouses, a cluster of hayricks, and a broad +stretch of fields, yellow with the ripening wheat, formed a fitting +setting to the dwelling of a prosperous farmer. + +The green slopes were dotted every here and there with dark clumps of +gorse bushes, all alight with the flaming yellow blossoms. To the left +lay the broad Portsmouth Road curving over the hill, with a line of +gaunt telegraph posts marking its course. Beyond a huge white chasm +opened in the grass, where the great Butser chalk quarry had been sunk. +From its depths rose the distant murmur of voices, and the clinking of +hammers. Just above it, between two curves of green hill, might be seen +a little triangle of leaden-coloured sea, flecked with a single white +sail. + +Down the Portsmouth Road two women were walking, one elderly, florid and +stout, with a yellow-brown Paisley shawl and a coarse serge dress, +the other young and fair, with large grey eyes, and a face which was +freckled like a plover's egg. Her neat white blouse with its trim black +belt, and plain, close-cut skirt, gave her an air of refinement which +was wanting in her companion, but there was sufficient resemblance +between them to show that they were mother and daughter. The one was +gnarled and hardened and wrinkled by rough country work, the other fresh +and pliant from the benign influence of the Board School; but their +step, their slope of the shoulders, and the movement of their hips as +they walked, all marked them as of one blood. + +"Mother, I can see father in the five-acre field," cried the younger, +pointing down in the direction of the farm. + +The older woman screwed up her eyes, and shaded them with her hand. + +"Who's that with him?" she asked. + +"There's Bill." + +"Oh, he's nobody. He's a-talkin' to some one." + +"I don't know, mother. It's some one in a straw hat. Adam Wilson of the +Quarry wears a straw hat." + +"Aye, of course, it's Adam sure enough. Well, I'm glad we're back home +time enough to see him. He'd have been disappointed if he had come over +and you'd been away. Drat this dust! It makes one not fit to be seen." + +The same idea seemed to have occurred to her daughter, for she had taken +out her handkerchief, and was flicking her sleeves and the front of her +dress. + +"That's right, Dolly. There's some on your flounces. But, Lor' bless +you, Dolly, it don't matter to him. It's not your dress he looks at, but +your face. Now I shouldn't be very surprised if he hadn't come over to +ask you from father." + +"I think he'd best begin by asking me from myself," remarked the girl. + +"Ah, but you'll have him, Dolly, when he does." + +"I'm not so sure of that, mother." The older woman threw up her hands. +"There! I don't know what the gals are coming to. I don't indeed. It's +the Board Schools as does it. When I was a gal, if a decent young man +came a-courtin', we gave him a 'Yes' or a 'No.' We didn't keep him +hanging on like a half-clipped sheep. Now, here are you with two of them +at your beck, and you can't give an answer to either of them." + +"Why, mother, that's it," cried the daughter, with something between +a laugh and a sob. "May be if they came one at a time I'd know what to +say." + +"What have you agin Adam Wilson?" + +"Nothing. But I have nothing against Elias Mason." + +"Nor I, either. But I know which is the most proper-looking young man." + +"Looks isn't everything, mother. You should hear Elias Mason talk. You +should hear him repeat poetry." + +"Well, then, have Elias." + +"Ah, but I haven't the heart to turn against Adam." + +"There, now! I never saw such a gal. You're like a calf betwixt two +hayricks; you have a nibble at the one and a nibble at the other. +There's not one in a hundred as lucky as you. Here's Adam with three +pound ten a week, foreman already at the Chalk Works, and likely enough +to be manager if he's spared. And there's Elias, head telegraph clerk at +the Post Office, and earning good money too. You can't keep 'em both on. +You've got to take one or t'other, and it's my belief you'll get neither +if you don't stop this shilly-shally." + +"I don't care. I don't want them. What do they want to come bothering +for?" + +"It's human natur', gal. They must do it. If they didn't, you'd be the +first to cry out maybe. It's in the Scriptures. 'Man is born for woman, +as the sparks fly upwards.'" She looked up out of the corner of her eyes +as if not very sure of her quotation. "Why, here be that dratted Bill. +The good book says as we are all made of clay, but Bill does show it +more than any lad I ever saw." + +They had turned from the road into a narrow, deeply rutted lane, which +led towards the farm. A youth was running towards them, loose-jointed +and long-limbed, with a boyish, lumbering haste, clumping fearlessly +with his great yellow clogs through pool and mire. He wore brown +corduroys, a dingy shirt, and a red handkerchief tied loosely round his +neck. A tattered old straw hat was tilted back upon his shock of coarse, +matted, brown hair. His sleeves were turned up to the elbows, and his +arms and face were both tanned and roughened until his skin looked like +the bark of some young sapling. As he looked up at the sound of the +steps, his face with its blue eyes, brown skin, and first slight down +of a tawny moustache, was not an uncomely one, were it not marred by the +heavy, stolid, somewhat sulky expression of the country yokel. + +"Please, mum," said he, touching the brim of his wreck of a hat, +"measter seed ye coming. He sent to say as 'ow 'e were in the five-acre +lot." + +"Run back, Bill, and say that we are coming," answered the farmer's +wife, and the awkward figure sped away upon its return journey. + +"I say, mother, what is Bill's other name?" asked the girl, with languid +curiosity. + +"He's not got one." + +"No name?" + +"No, Dolly, he's a found child, and never had no father or mother that +ever was heard of. We had him from the work'us when he was seven, to +chop mangel wurzel, and here he's been ever since, nigh twelve year. He +was Bill there, and he's Bill here." + +"What fun! Fancy having only one name. I wonder what they'll call his +wife?" + +"I don't know. Time to talk of that when he can keep one. But now, Dolly +dear, here's your father and Adam Wilson comin' across the field. I want +to see you settled, Dolly. He's a steady young man. He's blue ribbon, +and has money in the Post Office." + +"I wish I knew which liked me best," said her daughter glancing from +under her hat-brim at the approaching figures. "That's the one I should +like. But it's all right, mother, and I know how to find out, so don't +you fret yourself any more." + +The suitor was a well-grown young fellow in a grey suit, with a straw +hat jauntily ribboned in red and black. He was smoking, but as he +approached he thrust his pipe into his breast-pocket, and came forward +with one hand outstretched, and the other gripping nervously at his +watch-chain. + +"Your servant, Mrs. Foster. And how are you, Miss Dolly? Another +fortnight of this and you will be starting on your harvest, I suppose." + +"It's bad to say beforehand what you will do in this country," said +Farmer Foster, with an apprehensive glance round the heavens. + +"It's all God's doing," remarked his wife piously. + +"And He does the best for us, of course. Yet He does seem these last +seasons to have kind of lost His grip over the weather. Well, maybe +it will be made up to us this year. And what did you do at Horndean, +mother?" + +The old couple walked in front, and the other dropped behind, the young +man lingering, and taking short steps to increase the distance. + +"I say, Dolly," he murmured at last, flushing slightly as he glanced at +her, "I've been speaking to your father about--you know what." + +But Dolly didn't know what. She hadn't the slightest idea of what. +She turned her pretty little freckled face up to him and was full of +curiosity upon the point. + +Adam Wilson's face flushed to a deeper red. "You know very well," said +he, impatiently, "I spoke to him about marriage." + +"Oh, then it's him you want." + +"There, that's the way you always go on. It's easy to make fun, but I +tell you that I am in earnest, Dolly. Your father says that he would +have no objection to me in the family. You know that I love you true." + +"How do I know that then?" + +"I tell you so. What more can I do?" + +"Did you ever do anything to prove it?" + +"Set me something and see if I don't do it." + +"Then you haven't done anything yet?" + +"I don't know. I've done what I could." + +"How about this?" She pulled a little crumpled sprig of dog-rose, such +as grows wild in the wayside hedges, out of her bosom. "Do you know +anything of that?" + +He smiled, and was about to answer, when his brows suddenly contracted, +his mouth set, and his eyes flashed angrily as they focussed some +distant object. Following his gaze, she saw a slim, dark figure, some +three fields off, walking swiftly in their direction. "It's my friend, +Mr. Elias Mason," said she. + +"Your friend!" He had lost his diffidence in his anger. "I know all +about that. What does he want here every second evening?" + +"Perhaps he wonders what you want." + +"Does he? I wish he'd come and ask me. I'd let him see what I wanted. +Quick too." + +"He can see it now. He has taken off his hat to me," Dolly said, +laughing. + +Her laughter was the finishing touch. He had meant to be impressive, +and it seemed that he had only been ridiculous. He swung round upon his +heel. + +"Very well, Miss Foster," said he, in a choking voice, "that's all +right. We know where we are now. I didn't come here to be made a fool +of, so good day to you." He plucked at his hat, and walked furiously off +in the direction from which they had come. She looked after him, half +frightened, in the hope of seeing some sign that he had relented, but he +strode onwards with a rigid neck, and vanished at a turn of the lane. + +When she turned again her other visitor was close upon her--a thin, +wiry, sharp-featured man with a sallow face, and a quick, nervous +manner. + +"Good evening, Miss Foster. I thought that I would walk over as the +weather was so beautiful, but I did not expect to have the good fortune +to meet you in the fields." + +"I am sure that father will be very glad to see you, Mr. Mason. You must +come in and have a glass of milk." + +"No, thank you, Miss Foster, I should very much prefer to stay out here +with you. But I am afraid that I have interrupted you in a chat. Was not +that Mr. Adam Wilson who left you this moment?" His manner was subdued, +but his questioning eyes and compressed lips told of a deeper and more +furious jealousy than that of his rival. + +"Yes. It was Mr. Adam Wilson." There was something about Mason, a +certain concentration of manner, which made it impossible for the girl +to treat him lightly as she had done the other. + +"I have noticed him here several times lately." + +"Yes. He is head foreman, you know, at the big quarry." + +"Oh, indeed. He is fond of your society, Miss Foster. I can't blame him +for that, can I, since I am equally so myself. But I should like to come +to some understanding with you. You cannot have misunderstood what my +feelings are to you? I am in a position to offer you a comfortable home. +Will you be my wife, Miss Foster?" + +Dolly would have liked to make some jesting reply, but it was hard to be +funny with those two eager, fiery eyes fixed so intently upon her own. +She began to walk slowly towards the house, while he paced along beside +her, still waiting for his answer. + +"You must give me a little time, Mr. Mason," she said at last. "'Marry +in haste,' they say, 'and repent at leisure.'" + +"But you shall never have cause to repent." + +"I don't know. One hears such things." + +"You shall be the happiest woman in England." + +"That sounds very nice. You are a poet, Mr. Mason, are you not?" + +"I am a lover of poetry." + +"And poets are fond of flowers?" + +"I am very fond of flowers." + +"Then perhaps you know something of these?" She took out the humble +little sprig, and held it out to him with an arch questioning glance. He +took it and pressed it to his lips. + +"I know that it has been near you, where I should wish to be," said he. + +"Good evening, Mr. Mason!" It was Mrs. Foster who had come out to meet +them. "Where's Mr.----? Oh--ah! Yes, of course. The teapot's on the +table, and you'd best come in afore it's over-drawn." + +When Elias Mason left the farmhouse that evening, he drew Dolly aside at +the door. + +"I won't be able to come before Saturday," said he. + +"We shall be glad to see you, Mr. Mason." + +"I shall want my answer then." + +"Oh, I cannot give any promise, you know." + +"But I shall live in hope." + +"Well, no one can prevent you from doing that." As she came to realize +her power over him she had lost something of her fear, and could answer +him now nearly as freely as if he were simple Adam Wilson. + +She stood at the door, leaning against the wooden porch, with the long +trailers of the honeysuckle framing her tall, slight figure. The great +red sun was low in the west, its upper rim peeping over the low hills, +shooting long, dark shadows from the beech-tree in the field, from the +little group of tawny cows, and from the man who walked away from her. +She smiled to see how immense the legs were, and how tiny the body in +the great flat giant which kept pace beside him. In front of her in +the little garden the bees droned, a belated butterfly or an early +moth fluttered slowly over the flower-beds, a thousand little creatures +buzzed and hummed, all busy working out their tiny destinies, as she, +too, was working out hers, and each doubtless looking upon their own +as the central point of the universe. A few months for the gnat, a few +years for the girl, but each was happy now in the heavy summer air. A +beetle scuttled out upon the gravel path and bored onwards, its six legs +all working hard, butting up against stones, upsetting itself on ridges, +but still gathering itself up and rushing onwards to some all-important +appointment somewhere in the grass plot. A bat fluttered up from behind +the beech-tree. A breath of night air sighed softly over the hillside +with a little tinge of the chill sea spray in its coolness. Dolly Foster +shivered, and had turned to go in when her mother came out from the +passage. + +"Whatever is that Bill doing there?" she cried. + +Dolly looked, and saw for the first time that the nameless farm-labourer +was crouching under the beech, his browns and yellows blending with the +bark behind him. + +"You go out o' that, Bill!" screamed the farmer's wife. + +"What be I to do?" he asked humbly, slouching forward. + +"Go, cut chaff in the barn." He nodded and strolled away, a comical +figure in his mud-crusted boots, his strap-tied corduroys and his +almond-coloured skin. + +"Well, then, you've taken Elias," said the mother, passing her hand +round her daughter's waist. "I seed him a-kissing your flower. Well, I'm +sorry for Adam, for he is a well-grown young man, a proper young man, +blue ribbon, with money in the Post Office. Still some one must suffer, +else how could we be purified. If the milk's left alone it won't ever +turn into butter. It wants troubling and stirring and churning. That's +what we want, too, before we can turn angels. It's just the same as +butter." + +Dolly laughed. "I have not taken Elias yet," said she. + +"No? What about Adam then?" + +"Nor him either." + +"Oh, Dolly girl, can you not take advice from them that is older. I tell +you again that you'll lose them both." + +"No, no, mother. Don't you fret yourself. It's all right. But you can +see how hard it is. I like Elias, for he can speak so well, and is so +sure and masterful. And I like Adam because--well, because I know very +well that Adam loves me." + +"Well, bless my heart, you can't marry them both. You'd like all the +pears in the basket." + +"No, mother, but I know how to choose. You see this bit of a flower, +dear." + +"It's a common dog-rose." + +"Well, where d'you think I found it?" + +"In the hedge likely." + +"No, but on my window-ledge." + +"Oh, but when?" + +"This morning. It was six when I got up, and there it lay fresh and +sweet, and new-plucked. 'Twas the same yesterday and the day before. +Every morning there it lies. It's a common flower, as you say, mother, +but it is not so common to find a man who'll break short his sleep day +after day just to show a girl that the thought of her is in his heart." + +"And which was it?" + +"Ah, if I knew! I think it's Elias. He's a poet, you know, and poets do +nice things like that." + +"And how will you be sure?" + +"I'll know before morning. He will come again, whichever it is. And +whichever it is he's the man for me. Did father ever do that for you +before you married?" + +"I can't say he did, dear. But father was always a powerful heavy +sleeper." + +"Well then, mother, you needn't fret any more about me, for as sure as I +stand here, I'll tell you to-morrow which of them it is to be." + +That evening the farmer's daughter set herself to clearing off all those +odd jobs which accumulate in a large household. She polished the dark, +old-fashioned furniture in the sitting-room. She cleared out the cellar, +re-arranged the bins, counted up the cider, made a great cauldron full +of raspberry jam, potted, papered, and labelled it. Long after the whole +household was in bed she pushed on with her self-imposed tasks until the +night was far gone and she very spent and weary. Then she stirred up the +smouldering kitchen fire and made herself a cup of tea, and, carrying +it up to her own room, she sat sipping it and glancing over an old bound +volume of the _Leisure Hour_. Her seat was behind the little dimity +window curtains, whence she could see without being seen. + +The morning had broken, and a brisk wind had sprung up with the dawn. +The sky was of the lightest, palest blue, with a scud of flying +white clouds shredded out over the face of it, dividing, coalescing, +overtaking one another, but sweeping ever from the pink of the east to +the still shadowy west. The high, eager voice of the wind whistled and +sang outside, rising from moan to shriek, and then sinking again to a +dull mutter and grumble. Dolly rose to wrap her shawl around her, and as +she sat down again in an instant her doubts were resolved, and she had +seen that for which she had waited. + +Her window faced the inner yard, and was some eight feet from the +ground. A man standing beneath it could not be seen from above. But she +saw enough to tell her all that she wished to know. Silently, suddenly, +a hand had appeared from below, had laid a sprig of flower upon her +ledge, and had disappeared. It did not take two seconds; she saw no +face, she heard no sound, but she had seen the hand and she wanted +nothing more. With a smile she threw herself upon the bed, drew a rug +over her, and dropped into a heavy slumber. + +She was awakened by her mother plucking at her shoulder. + +"It's breakfast time, Dolly, but I thought you would be weary, so I +brought you lip some bread and coffee. Sit up, like a dearie, and take +it." + +"All right, mother. Thank you. I'm all dressed, so I'll be ready to come +down soon." + +"Bless the gal, she's never had her things off! And, dearie me, here's +the flower outside the window, sure enough! Well, and did you see who +put it there?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"Who was it then?" + +"It was Adam." + +"Was it now? Well, I shouldn't have thought that he had it in him. Then +Adam it's to be. Well, he's steady, and that's better than being clever, +yea, seven-and-seventy fold. Did he come across the yard?" + +"No, along by the wall." + +"How did you see him then?" + +"I didn't see him." + +"Then how can you tell?" + +"I saw his hand." + +"But d'you tell me you know Adam's hand?" + +"It would be a blind man that couldn't tell it from Elias' hand. Why, +the one is as brown as that coffee, and the other as white as the cup, +with great blue veins all over it." + +"Well, now I shouldn't have thought of it, but so it is. Well, it'll be +a busy day, Dolly. Just hark to the wind!" + +It had, indeed, increased during the few hours since dawn to a very +violent tempest. The panes of the window rattled and shook. Glancing +out, Dolly saw cabbage leaves and straw whirling up past the casement. + +"The great hayrick is giving. They're all out trying to prop it up. My, +but it do blow!" + +It did indeed! When Dolly came downstairs it was all that she could do +to push her way through the porch. All along the horizon the sky was +brassy-yellow, but above the wind screamed and stormed, and the torn, +hurrying clouds were now huddled together, and now frayed off into +countless tattered streamers. In the field near the house her father +and three or four labourers were working with poles and ropes, hatless, +their hair and beards flying, staving up a great bulging hayrick. Dolly +watched them for a moment, and then, stooping her head and rounding her +shoulders, with one hand up to her little black straw hat, she staggered +off across the fields. + +Adam Wilson was at work always on a particular part of the hillside, and +hither it was that she bent her steps. He saw the trim, dapper figure, +with its flying skirts and hat-ribbons, and he came forward to meet her +with a great white crowbar in his hand. He walked slowly, however, and +his eyes were downcast, with the air of a man who still treasures a +grievance. + +"Good mornin', Miss Foster." + +"Good morning, Mr. Wilson. Oh, if you are going to be cross with me, I'd +best go home again." + +"I'm not cross, Miss Foster. I take it very kindly that you should come +out this way on such a day." + +"I wanted to say to you--I wanted to say that I was sorry if I made you +angry yesterday. I didn't mean to make fun. I didn't, indeed. It is only +my way of talking. It was so good of you, so noble of you, to let it +make no difference." + +"None at all, Dolly." He was quite radiant again. "If I didn't love you +so, I wouldn't mind what that other chap said or did. And if I could +only think that you cared more for me than for him--" + +"I do, Adam." + +"God bless you for saying so! You've lightened my heart, Dolly. I have +to go to Portsmouth for the firm today. To-morrow night I'll come and +see you." + +"Very well, Adam, I--Oh, my God, what's that!" + +A rending breaking noise in the distance, a dull rumble, and a burst of +shouts and cries. + +"The rick's down! There's been an accident!" They both started running +down the hill. + +"Father!" panted the girl, "father!" + +"He's all right!" shouted her companion, "I can see him. But there's +some one down. They're lifting him now. And here's one running like mad +for the doctor." + +A farm-labourer came rushing wildly up the lane. "Don't you go, Missey," +he cried. "A man's hurt." + +"Who?" + +"It's Bill. The rick came down and the ridge-pole caught him across the +back. He's dead, I think. Leastwise, there's not much life in him. I'm +off for Doctor Strong!" He bent his shoulder to the wind, and lumbered +off down the road. + +"Poor Bill! Thank God it wasn't father!" They were at the edge of +the field now in which the accident had taken place. The rick lay, a +shapeless mound upon the earth, with a long thick pole protruding from +it, which had formerly supported the tarpaulin drawn across it in case +of rain. Four men were walking slowly away, one shoulder humped, one +hanging, and betwixt them they bore a formless clay-coloured bundle. +He might have been a clod of the earth that he tilled, so passive, so +silent, still brown, for death itself could not have taken the burn from +his skin, but with patient, bovine eyes looking out heavily from under +half-closed lids. He breathed jerkily, but he neither cried out nor +groaned. There was something almost brutal and inhuman in his absolute +stolidity. He asked no sympathy, for his life had been without it. It +was a broken tool rather than an injured man. + +"Can I do anything, father?" + +"No, lass, no. This is no place for you. I've sent for the doctor. He'll +be here soon." + +"But where are they taking him?" + +"To the loft where he sleeps." + +"I'm sure he's welcome to my room, father." + +"No, no, lass. Better leave it alone." + +But the little group were passing as they spoke, and the injured lad had +heard the girl's words. + +"Thank ye kindly, Missey," he murmured, with a little flicker of life, +and then sank back again into his stolidity and his silence. + +Well, a farm hand is a useful thing, but what is a man to do with one +who has an injured spine and half his ribs smashed. Farmer Foster shook +his head and scratched his chin as he listened to the doctor's report. + +"He can't get better?" + +"No." + +"Then we had better move him." + +"Where to?" + +"To the work'us hospital. He came from there just this time eleven +years. It'll be like going home to him." + +"I fear that he is going home," said the doctor gravely. "But it's out +of the question to move him now. He must lie where he is for better or +for worse." + +And it certainly looked for worse rather than for better. In a little +loft above the stable he was stretched upon a tiny blue pallet which +lay upon the planks. Above were the gaunt rafters, hung with saddles, +harness, old scythe blades--the hundred things which droop, like bats, +from inside such buildings. Beneath them upon two pegs hung his own +pitiable wardrobe, the blue shirt and the grey, the stained trousers, +and the muddy coat. A gaunt chaff-cutting machine stood at his head, and +a great bin of the chaff behind it. He lay very quiet, still dumb, still +uncomplaining, his eyes fixed upon the small square window looking out +at the drifting sky, and at this strange world which God has made so +queerly--so very queerly. + +An old woman, the wife of a labourer, had been set to nurse him, for the +doctor had said that he was not to be left. She moved about the room, +arranging and ordering, grumbling to herself from time to time at this +lonely task which had been assigned to her. There were some flowers in +broken jars upon a cross-beam, and these, with a touch of tenderness, +she carried over and arranged upon a deal packing-case beside the +patient's head. He lay motionless, and as he breathed there came a +gritty rubbing sound from somewhere in his side, but he followed his +companion about with his eyes and even smiled once as she grouped the +flowers round him. + +He smiled again when he heard that Mrs. Foster and her daughter had been +to ask after him that evening. They had been down to the Post Office +together, where Dolly had sent off a letter which she had very carefully +drawn up, addressed to Elias Mason, Esq., and explaining to that +gentleman that she had formed her plans for life, and that he need spare +himself the pain of coming for his answer on the Saturday. As they came +back they stopped in the stable and inquired through the loft door as +to the sufferer. From where they stood they could hear that horrible +grating sound in his breathing. Dolly hurried away with her face quite +pale under her freckles. She was too young to face the horrid details of +suffering, and yet she was a year older than this poor waif, who lay in +silence, facing death itself. + +All night he lay very quiet--so quiet that were it not for that one +sinister sound his nurse might have doubted whether life was still in +him. She had watched him and tended him as well as she might, but she +was herself feeble and old, and just as the morning light began to steal +palely through the small loft window, she sank back in her chair in a +dreamless sleep. Two hours passed, and the first voices of the men as +they gathered for their work aroused her. She sprang to her feet. +Great heaven! the pallet was empty. She rushed down into the stables, +distracted, wringing her hands. There was no sign of him. But the stable +door was open. He must have walked-but how could he walk?--he must have +crawled--have writhed that way. Out she rushed, and as they heard her +tale, the newly risen labourers ran with her, until the farmer with his +wife and daughter were called from their breakfast by the bustle, and +joined also in this strange chase. A whoop, a cry, and they were drawn +round to the corner of the yard on which Miss Dolly's window opened. +There he lay within a few yards of the window, his face upon the stones, +his feet thrusting out from his tattered night-gown, and his track +marked by the blood from his wounded knees. One hand was thrown out +before him, and in it he held a little sprig of the pink dog-rose. + +They carried him back, cold and stiff, to the pallet in the loft, and +the old nurse drew the sheet over him and left him, for there was no +need to watch him now. The girl had gone to her room, and her mother +followed her thither, all unnerved by this glimpse of death. + +"And to think," said she, "that it was only _him_, after all." + +But Dolly sat at the side of her bed, and sobbed bitterly in her apron. + + + + +"DE PROFUNDIS" + + +So long as the oceans are the ligaments which bind together the great +broad-cast British Empire, so long will there be a dash of romance in +our minds. For the soul is swayed by the waters, as the waters are by +the moon, and when the great highways of an empire are along such roads +as these, so full of strange sights and sounds, with danger ever running +like a hedge on either side of the course, it is a dull mind indeed +which does not bear away with it some trace of such a passage. And +now, Britain lies far beyond herself, for the three-mile limit of every +seaboard is her frontier, which has been won by hammer and loom and pick +rather than by arts of war. For it is written in history that neither +king nor army can bar the path to the man who having twopence in his +strong box, and knowing well where he can turn it to threepence, sets +his mind to that one end. And as the frontier has broadened, the mind of +Britain has broadened too, spreading out until all men can see that the +ways of the island are continental, even as those of the Continent are +insular. + +But for this a price must be paid, and the price is a grievous one. As +the beast of old must have one young human life as a tribute every year, +so to our Empire we throw from day to day the pick and flower of our +youth. The engine is world-wide and strong, but the only fuel that will +drive it is the lives of British men. Thus it is that in the grey old +cathedrals, as we look round upon the brasses on the walls, we see +strange names, such names as they who reared those walls had never +heard, for it is in Peshawar, and Umballah, and Korti and Fort Pearson +that the youngsters die, leaving only a precedent and a brass behind +them. But if every man had his obelisk, even where he lay, then no +frontier line need be drawn, for a cordon of British graves would ever +show how high the Anglo-Celtic tide had lapped. + +This, then, as well as the waters which join us to the world, has done +something to tinge us with romance. For when so many have their loved +ones over the seas, walking amid hillmen's bullets, or swamp malaria, +where death is sudden and distance great, then mind communes with mind, +and strange stories arise of dream, presentiment or vision, where the +mother sees her dying son, and is past the first bitterness of her grief +ere the message comes which should have broken the news. The learned +have of late looked into the matter and have even labelled it with a +name; but what can we know more of it save that a poor stricken +soul, when hard-pressed and driven, can shoot across the earth some +ten-thousand-mile-distant picture of its trouble to the mind which is +most akin to it. Far be it from me to say that there lies no such power +within us, for of all things which the brain will grasp the last will +be itself; but yet it is well to be very cautious over such matters, for +once at least I have known that which was within the laws of nature seem +to be far upon the further side of them. + +John Vansittart was the younger partner of the firm of Hudson and +Vansittart, coffee exporters of the Island of Ceylon, three-quarters +Dutchman by descent, but wholly English in his sympathies. For years I +had been his agent in London, and when in '72 he came over to England +for a three months' holiday, he turned to me for the introductions which +would enable him to see something of town and country life. Armed with +seven letters he left my offices, and for many weeks scrappy notes from +different parts of the country let me know that he had found favour +in the eyes of my friends. Then came word of his engagement to Emily +Lawson, of a cadet branch of the Hereford Lawsons, and at the very tail +of the first flying rumour the news of his absolute marriage, for the +wooing of a wanderer must be short, and the days were already crowding +on towards the date when he must be upon his homeward journey. They +were to return together to Colombo in one of the firm's own thousand-ton +barque-rigged sailing ships, and this was to be their princely +honeymoon, at once a necessity and a delight. + +Those were the royal days of coffee-planting in Ceylon, before a single +season and a rotten fungus drove a whole community through years of +despair to one of the greatest commercial victories which pluck and +ingenuity ever won. Not often is it that men have the heart when their +one great industry is withered to rear up in a few years another as rich +to take its place, and the tea-fields of Ceylon are as true a monument +to courage as is the lion at Waterloo. But in '72 there was no cloud +yet above the skyline, and the hopes of the planters were as high and +as bright as the hillsides on which they reared their crops. Vansittart +came down to London with his young and beautiful wife. I was introduced, +dined with them, and it was finally arranged that I, since business +called me also to Ceylon, should be a fellow-passenger with them on the +_Eastern Star_, which was timed to sail on the following Monday. + +It was on the Sunday evening that I saw him again. He was shown up +into my rooms about nine o'clock at night, with the air of a man who is +bothered and out of sorts. His hand, as I shook it, was hot and dry. + +"I wish, Atkinson," said he, "that you could give me a little lime juice +and water. I have a beastly thirst upon me, and the more I take the more +I seem to want." + +I rang and ordered a carafe and glasses. "You are flushed," said I. "You +don't look the thing." + +"No, I'm clean off colour. Got a touch of rheumatism in my back, and +don't seem to taste my food. It is this vile London that is choking me. +I'm not used to breathing air which has been used up by four million +lungs all sucking away on every side of you." He flapped his crooked +hands before his face, like a man who really struggles for his breath. + +"A touch of the sea will soon set you right." + +"Yes, I'm of one mind with you there. That's the thing for me. I want +no other doctor. If I don't get to sea to-morrow I'll have an illness. +There are no two ways about it." He drank off a tumbler of lime juice, +and clapped his two hands with his knuckles doubled up into the small of +his back. + +"That seems to ease me," said he, looking at me with a filmy eye. "Now I +want your help, Atkinson, for I am rather awkwardly placed." + +"As how?" + +"This way. My wife's mother got ill and wired for her. I couldn't +go--you know best yourself how tied I have been--so she had to go alone. +Now I've had another wire to say that she can't come to-morrow, but that +she will pick up the ship at Falmouth on Wednesday. We put in there, +you know, and in, though I count it hard, Atkinson, that a man should +be asked to believe in a mystery, and cursed if he can't do it. Cursed, +mind you, no less." He leaned forward and began to draw a catchy breath +like a man who is poised on the very edge of a sob. + +Then first it came to my mind that I had heard much of the hard-drinking +life of the island, and that from brandy came those wild words and +fevered hands. The flushed cheek and the glazing eye were those of one +whose drink is strong upon him. Sad it was to see so noble a young man +in the grip of that most bestial of all the devils. + +"You should lie down," I said, with some severity. + +He screwed up his eyes like a man who is striving to wake himself, and +looked up with an air of surprise. + +"So I shall presently," said he, quite rationally. "I felt quite swimmy +just now, but I am my own man again now. Let me see, what was I talking +about? Oh ah, of course, about the wife. She joins the ship at Falmouth. +Now I want to go round by water. I believe my health depends upon it. +I just want a little clean first-lung air to set me on my feet again. I +ask you, like a good fellow, to go to Falmouth by rail, so that in case +we should be late you may be there to look after the wife. Put up at +the Royal Hotel, and I will wire her that you are there. Her sister will +bring her down, so that it will be all plain sailing." + +"I'll do it with pleasure," said I. "In fact, I would rather go by +rail, for we shall have enough and to spare of the sea before we reach +Colombo. I believe too that you badly need a change. Now, I should go +and turn in, if I were you." + +"Yes, I will. I sleep aboard tonight. You know," he continued, as the +film settled down again over his eyes, "I've not slept well the last +few nights. I've been troubled with theolololog--that is to say, +theolological--hang it," with a desperate effort, "with the doubts of +theolologicians. Wondering why the Almighty made us, you know, and why +He made our heads swimmy, and fixed little pains into the small of our +backs. Maybe I'll do better tonight." He rose and steadied himself with +an effort against the corner of the chair back. + +"Look here, Vansittart," said I, gravely, stepping up to him, and laying +my hand upon his sleeve, "I can give you a shakedown here. You are +not fit to go out. You are all over the place. You've been mixing your +drinks." + +"Drinks!" He stared at me stupidly. + +"You used to carry your liquor better than this." + +"I give you my word, Atkinson, that I have not had a drain for two days. +It's not drink. I don't know what it is. I suppose you think this is +drink." He took up my hand in his burning grasp, and passed it over his +own forehead. + +"Great Lord!" said I. + +His skin felt like a thin sheet of velvet beneath which lies a +close-packed layer of small shot. It was smooth to the touch at any one +place, but to a finger passed along it, rough as a nutmeg grater. + +"It's all right," said he, smiling at my startled face. "I've had the +prickly heat nearly as bad." + +"But this is never prickly heat." + +"No, it's London. It's breathing bad air. But tomorrow it'll be all +right. There's a surgeon aboard, so I shall be in safe hands. I must be +off now." + +"Not you," said I, pushing him back into a chair. "This is past a joke. +You don't move from here until a doctor sees you. Just stay where you +are." + +I caught up my hat, and rushing round to the house of a neighbouring +physician, I brought him back with me. The room was empty and Vansittart +gone. I rang the bell. The servant said that the gentleman had ordered a +cab the instant that I had left, and had gone off in it. He had told the +cabman to drive to the docks. + +"Did the gentleman seem ill?" I asked. + +"Ill!" The man smiled. "No, sir, he was singin' his 'ardest all the +time." + +The information was not as reassuring as my servant seemed to think, but +I reflected that he was going straight back to the _Eastern Star_, and +that there was a doctor aboard of her, so that there was nothing which I +could do in the matter. None the less, when I thought of his thirst, his +burning hands, his heavy eye, his tripping speech, and lastly, of that +leprous forehead, I carried with me to bed an unpleasant memory of my +visitor and his visit. + +At eleven o'clock next day I was at the docks, but the _Eastern Star_ +had already moved down the river, and was nearly at Gravesend. To +Gravesend I went by train, but only to see her topmasts far off, with +a plume of smoke from a tug in front of her. I would hear no more of my +friend until I rejoined him at Falmouth. When I got back to my offices, +a telegram was awaiting me from Mrs. Vansittart, asking me to meet her; +and next evening found us both at the Royal Hotel, Falmouth, where we +were to wait for the _Eastern Star_. Ten days passed, and there came no +news of her. + +They were ten days which I am not likely to forget. On the very day that +the _Eastern Star_ had cleared from the Thames, a furious easterly gale +had sprung up, and blew on from day to day for the greater part of a +week without the sign of a lull. Such a screaming, raving, long-drawn +storm has never been known on the southern coast. From our hotel +windows the sea view was all banked in haze, with a little rain-swept +half-circle under our very eyes, churned and lashed into one tossing +stretch of foam. So heavy was the wind upon the waves that little sea +could rise, for the crest of each billow was torn shrieking from it, and +lashed broadcast over the bay. Clouds, wind, sea, all were rushing to +the west, and there, looking down at this mad jumble of elements, I +waited on day after day, my sole companion a white, silent woman, with +terror in her eyes, her forehead pressed ever against the window, her +gaze from early morning to the fall of night fixed upon that wall +of grey haze through which the loom of a vessel might come. She said +nothing, but that face of hers was one long wail of fear. + +On the fifth day I took counsel with an old seaman. I should have +preferred to have done so alone, but she saw me speak with him, and was +at our side in an instant, with parted lips and a prayer in her eyes. + +"Seven days out from London," said he, "and five in the gale. Well, the +Channel's swept clear by this wind. There's three things for it. She may +have popped into port on the French side. That's like enough." + +"No, no; he knew we were here. He would have telegraphed." + +"Ah, yes, so he would. Well, then, he might have run for it, and if he +did that he won't be very far from Madeira by now. That'll be it, marm, +you may depend." + +"Or else? You said there was a third chance." + +"Did I, marm? No, only two, I think. I don't think I said anything of a +third. Your ship's out there, depend upon it, away out in the Atlantic, +and you'll hear of it time enough, for the weather is breaking. Now +don't you fret, marm, and wait quiet, and you'll find a real blue +Cornish sky tomorrow." + +The old seaman was right in his surmise, for the next day broke calm +and bright, with only a low dwindling cloud in the west to mark the last +trailing wreaths of the storm-wrack. But still there came no word from +the sea, and no sign of the ship. Three more weary days had passed, the +weariest that I have ever spent, when there came a seafaring man to the +hotel with a letter. I gave a shout of joy. It was from the captain of +the _Eastern Star_. As I read the first lines of it I whisked my hand +over it, but she laid her own upon it and drew it away. "I have seen +it," said she, in a cold, quiet voice. "I may as well see the rest, +too." + + +"DEAR SIR," said the letter, + +"Mr. Vansittart is down with the small-pox, and we are blown so far +on our course that we don't know what to do, he being off his head and +unfit to tell us. By dead reckoning we are but three hundred miles from +Funchal, so I take it that it is best that we should push on there, +get Mr. V. into hospital, and wait in the Bay until you come. There's +a sailing-ship due from Falmouth to Funchal in a few days' time, as I +understand. This goes by the brig _Marian_ of Falmouth, and five pounds +is due to the master, Yours respectfully, + +"JNO. HINES." + + +She was a wonderful woman that, only a chit of a girl fresh from school, +but as quiet and strong as a man. She said nothing--only pressed her +lips together tight, and put on her bonnet. + +"You are going out?" I asked. + +"Yes." + +"Can I be of use?" + +"No; I am going to the doctor's." + +"To the doctor's?" + +"Yes. To learn how to nurse a small-pox case." + +She was busy at that all the evening, and next morning we were off with +a fine ten-knot breeze in the barque _Rose of Sharon_ for Madeira. For +five days we made good time, and were no great way from the island; but +on the sixth there fell a calm, and we lay without motion on a sea of +oil, heaving slowly, but making not a foot of way. + +At ten o'clock that night Emily Vansittart and I stood leaning on the +starboard railing of the poop, with a full moon shining at our backs, +and casting a black shadow of the barque, and of our own two heads +upon the shining water. From the shadow a broadening path of moonshine +stretched away to the lonely sky-line, flickering and shimmering in the +gentle heave of the swell. We were talking with bent heads, chatting +of the calm, of the chances of wind, of the look of the sky, when there +came a sudden plop, like a rising salmon, and there, in the clear light, +John Vansittart sprang out of the water and looked up at us. + +I never saw anything clearer in my life than I saw that man. The moon +shone full upon him, and he was but three oars' lengths away. His face +was more puffed than when I had seen him last, mottled here and there +with dark scabs, his mouth and eyes open as one who is struck with +some overpowering surprise. He had some white stuff streaming from his +shoulders, and one hand was raised to his ear, the other crooked across +his breast. I saw him leap from the water into the air, and in the dead +calm the waves of his coming lapped up against the sides of the vessel. +Then his figure sank back into the water again, and I heard a rending, +crackling sound like a bundle of brushwood snapping in the fire on a +frosty night. There were no signs of him when I looked again, but a +swift swirl and eddy on the still sea still marked the spot where he had +been. How long I stood there, tingling to my finger-tips, holding up +an unconscious woman with one hand, clutching at the rail of the vessel +with the other, was more than I could afterwards tell. I had been noted +as a man of-slow and unresponsive emotions, but this time at least I was +shaken to the core. Once and twice I struck my foot upon the deck to be +certain that I was indeed the master of my own senses, and that this was +not some mad prank of an unruly brain. As I stood, still marvelling, the +woman shivered, opened her eyes, gasped, and then standing erect with +her hands upon the rail, looked out over the moonlit sea with a face +which had aged ten years in a summer night. + +"You saw his vision?" she murmured. + +"I saw something." + +"It was he! It was John! He is dead!" + +I muttered some lame words of doubt. + +"Doubtless he died at this hour," she whispered. "In hospital at +Madeira. I have read of such things. His thoughts were with me. His +vision came to me. Oh, my John, my dear, dear, lost John!" + +She broke out suddenly into a storm of weeping, and I led her down into +her cabin, where I left her with her sorrow. That night a brisk breeze +blew up from the east, and in the evening of the next day we passed the +two islets of Los Desertos, and dropped anchor at sundown in the Bay +of Funchal. The _Eastern Star_ lay no great distance from us, with the +quarantine flag flying from her main, and her Jack half-way up her peak. + +"You see," said Mrs. Vansittart, quickly. She was dry-eyed now, for she +had known how it would be. + +That night we received permission from the authorities to move on board +the _Eastern Star_. The captain, Hines, was waiting upon deck with +confusion and grief contending upon his bluff face as he sought for +words with which to break this heavy tidings, but she took the story +from his lips. + +"I know that my husband is dead," she said. "He died yesterday night, +about ten o'clock, in hospital at Madeira, did he not?" + +The seaman stared aghast. "No, marm, he died eight days ago at sea, and +we had to bury him out there, for we lay in a belt of calm, and could +not say when we might make the land." + +Well, those are the main facts about the death of John Vansittart, and +his appearance to his wife somewhere about lat. 35 N. and long. 15 W. A +clearer case of a wraith has seldom been made out, and since then it has +been told as such, and put into print as such, and endorsed by a learned +society as such, and so floated off with many others to support the +recent theory of telepathy. For myself, I hold telepathy to be proved, +but I would snatch this one case from amid the evidence, and say that +I do not think that it was the wraith of John Vansittart, but John +Vansittart himself whom we saw that night leaping into the moonlight +out of the depths of the Atlantic. It has ever been my belief that some +strange chance--one of those chances which seem so improbable and yet so +constantly occur--had becalmed us over the very spot where the man had +been buried a week before. For the rest, the surgeon tells me that the +leaden weight was not too firmly fixed, and that seven days bring about +changes which fetch a body to the surface. Coming from the depth to +which the weight would have sunk it, he explains that it might well +attain such a velocity as to carry it clear of the water. Such is my +own explanation of the matter, and if you ask me what then became of +the body, I must recall to you that snapping, crackling sound, with the +swirl in the water. The shark is a surface feeder and is plentiful in +those parts. + + + + +THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR + + +It was a cold, foggy, dreary evening in May. Along the Strand blurred +patches of light marked the position of the lamps. The flaring shop +windows flickered vaguely with steamy brightness through the thick and +heavy atmosphere. + +The high lines of houses which lead down to the Embankment were all +dark and deserted, or illuminated only by the glimmering lamp of the +caretaker. At one point, however, there shone out from three windows +upon the second floor a rich flood of light, which broke the sombre +monotony of the terrace. Passers-by glanced up curiously, and drew each +other's attention to the ruddy glare, for it marked the chambers of +Francis Pericord, the inventor and electrical engineer. Long into the +watches of the night the gleam of his lamps bore witness to the untiring +energy and restless industry which was rapidly carrying him to the first +rank in his profession. + +Within the chamber sat two men. The one was Pericord himself--hawk-faced +and angular, with the black hair and brisk bearing which spoke of his +Celtic origin. The other--thick, sturdy, and blue-eyed--was Jeremy +Brown, the well-known mechanician. They had been partners in many an +invention, in which the creative genius of the one had been aided by the +practical abilities of the other. It was a question among their friends +as to which was the better man. + +It was no chance visit which had brought Brown into Pericord's workshop +at so late an hour. Business was to be done--business which was to +decide the failure or success of months of work, and which might affect +their whole careers. Between them lay a long brown table, stained and +corroded by strong acids, and littered with giant carboys, Faure's +accumulators, voltaic piles, coils of wire, and great blocks of +non-conducting porcelain. In the midst of all this lumber there stood +a singular whizzing, whirring machine, upon which the eyes of both +partners were riveted. + +A small square metal receptacle was connected by numerous wires to +a broad steel girdle, furnished on either side with two powerful +projecting joints. The girdle was motionless, but the joints with the +short arms attached to them flashed round every few seconds, with +a pause between each rhythmic turn. The power which moved them came +evidently from the metal box. A subtle odour of ozone was in the air. + +"How about the flanges, Brown?" asked the inventor. + +"They were too large to bring. They are seven foot by three. There is +power enough there to work them, however. I will answer for that." + +"Aluminium with an alloy of copper?" + +"Yes." + +"See how beautifully it works." Pericord stretched out a thin, nervous +hand, and pressed a button upon the machine. The joints revolved more +slowly, and came presently to a dead stop. Again he touched a spring and +the arms shivered and woke up again into their crisp metallic life. "The +experimenter need not exert his muscular powers," he remarked. "He has +only to be passive, and use his intelligence." + +"Thanks to my motor," said Brown. + +"_Our_ motor," the other broke in sharply. + +"Oh, of course," said his colleague impatiently. + +"The motor which you thought of, and which I reduced to practice--call +it what you like." + +"I call it the Brown-Pericord Motor," cried the inventor with an angry +flash of his dark eyes. "You worked out the details, but the abstract +thought is mine, and mine alone." + +"An abstract thought won't turn an engine," said Brown, doggedly. + +"That was why I took you into partnership," the other retorted, drumming +nervously with his fingers upon the table. "I invent, you build. It is a +fair division of labour." + +Brown pursed up his lips, as though by no means satisfied upon the +point. Seeing, however, that further argument was useless, he turned +his attention to the machine, which was shivering and rocking with each +swing of its arms, as though a very little more would send it skimming +from the table. + +"Is it not splendid?" cried Pericord. + +"It is satisfactory," said the more phlegmatic Anglo-Saxon. + +"There's immortality in it!" + +"There's money in it!" + +"Our names will go down with Montgolfier's." + +"With Rothschild's, I hope." + +"No, no, Brown; you take too material a view," cried the inventor, +raising his gleaming eyes from the machine to his companion. "Our +fortunes are a mere detail. Money is a thing which every heavy-witted +plutocrat in the country shares with us. My hopes rise to something +higher than that. Our true reward will come in the gratitude and +goodwill of the human race." + +Brown shrugged his shoulders. "You may have my share of that," he said. +"I am a practical man. We must test our invention." + +"Where can we do it?" + +"That is what I wanted to speak about. It must be absolutely secret. If +we had private grounds of our own it would be an easy matter, but there +is no privacy in London." + +"We must take it into the country." + +"I have a suggestion to offer," said Brown. "My brother has a place in +Sussex on the high land near Beachy Head. There is, I remember, a large +and lofty barn near the house. Will is in Scotland, but the key is +always at my disposal. Why not take the machine down tomorrow and test +it in the barn?" + +"Nothing could be better." + +"There is a train to Eastbourne at one." + +"I shall be at the station." + +"Bring the gear with you, and I will bring the flanges," said the +mechanician, rising. "Tomorrow will prove whether we have been following +a shadow, or whether fortune is at our feet. One o'clock at Victoria." +He walked swiftly down the stair and was quickly reabsorbed into the +flood of comfortless clammy humanity which ebbed and flowed along the +Strand. + +The morning was bright and spring-like. A pale blue sky arched over +London, with a few gauzy white clouds drifting lazily across it. At +eleven o'clock Brown might have been seen entering the Patent Office +with a great roll of parchment, diagrams, and plans under his arm. At +twelve he emerged again smiling, and, opening his pocket-book, he packed +away very carefully a small slip of official blue paper. At five minutes +to one his cab rolled into Victoria Station. Two giant canvas-covered +parcels, like enormous kites, were handed down by the cabman from the +top, and consigned to the care of a guard. On the platform Pericord was +pacing up and down, with long eager step and swinging arms, a tinge of +pink upon his sunken and sallow cheeks. + +"All right?" he asked. + +Brown pointed in answer to his baggage. + +"I have the motor and the girdle already packed away in the guard's van. +Be careful, guard, for it is delicate machinery of great value. So! Now +we can start with an easy conscience." + +At Eastbourne the precious motor was carried to a four-wheeler, and the +great flanges hoisted on the top. A long drive took them to the house +where the keys were kept, whence they set off across the barren Downs. +The building which was their destination was a commonplace white-washed +structure, with straggling stables and out-houses, standing in a grassy +hollow which sloped down from the edge of the chalk cliffs. It was a +cheerless house even when in use, but now with its smokeless chimneys +and shuttered windows it looked doubly dreary. The owner had planted a +grove of young larches and firs around it, but the sweeping spray had +blighted them, and they hung their withered heads in melancholy groups. +It was a gloomy and forbidding spot. + +But the inventors were in no mood to be moved by such trifles. The +lonelier the place, the more fitted for their purpose. With the help of +the cabman they carried their packages down the footpath, and laid them +in the darkened dining-room. The sun was setting as the distant murmur +of wheels told them that they were finally alone. + +Pericord had thrown open the shutters and the mellow evening light +streamed in through the discoloured windows. Brown drew a knife from his +pocket and cut the pack-thread with which the canvas was secured. As the +brown covering fell away it disclosed two great yellow metal fans. These +he leaned carefully against the wall. The girdle, the connecting-bands, +and the motor were then in turn unpacked. It was dark before all was set +out in order. A lamp was lit, and by its light the two men continued to +tighten screws, clinch rivets, and make the last preparations for their +experiment. + +"That finishes it," said Brown at last, stepping back and surveying the +machine. + +Pericord said nothing, but his face glowed with pride and expectation. + +"We must have something to eat," Brown remarked, laying out some +provisions which he had brought with him. + +"Afterwards." + +"No, now," said the stolid mechanician. "I am half starved." He pulled +up to the table and made a hearty meal, while his Celtic companion +strode impatiently up and down, with twitching fingers and restless +eyes. + +"Now then," said Brown, facing round, and brushing the crumbs from his +lap, "who is to put it on?" + +"I shall," cried his companion eagerly. "What we do to-night is likely +to be historic." + +"But there is some danger," suggested Brown. "We cannot quite tell how +it may act." + +"That is nothing," said Pericord, with a wave of his hand. + +"But there is no use our going out of our way to incur danger." + +"What then? One of us must do it." + +"Not at all. The motor would act equally well if attached to any +inanimate object." + +"That is true," said Pericord, thoughtfully. + +"There are bricks by the barn. I have a sack here. Why should not a +bagful of them take your place?" + +"It is a good idea. I see no objection." + +"Come on then," and the two sallied out, bearing with them the various +sections of their machine. The moon was shining cold and clear though +an occasional ragged cloud drifted across her face. All was still and +silent upon the Downs. They stood and listened before they entered the +barn, but not a sound came to their ears, save the dull murmur of the +sea and the distant barking of a dog. Pericord journeyed backwards and +forwards with all that they might need, while Brown filled a long narrow +sack with bricks. + +When all was ready, the door of the barn was closed, and the lamp +balanced upon an empty packing-case. The bag of bricks was laid upon +two trestles, and the broad steel girdle was buckled round it. Then the +great flanges, the wires, and the metal box containing the motor were +in turn attached to the girdle. Last of all a flat steel rudder, shaped +like a fish's tail, was secured to the bottom of the sack. + +"We must make it travel in a small circle," said Pericord, glancing +round at the bare high walls. + +"Tie the rudder down at one side," suggested Brown. "Now it is ready. +Press the connection and off she goes!" + +Pericord leaned forward, his long sallow face quivering with excitement. +His white nervous hands darted here and there among the wires. Brown +stood impassive with critical eyes. There was a sharp burr from the +machine. The huge yellow wings gave a convulsive flap. Then another. +Then a third, slower and stronger, with a fuller sweep. Then a fourth +which filled the barn with a blast of driven air. At the fifth the bag +of bricks began to dance upon the trestles. At the sixth it sprang into +the air, and would have fallen to the ground, but the seventh came to +save it, and fluttered it forward through the air. Slowly rising, it +flapped heavily round in a circle, like some great clumsy bird, filling +the barn with its buzzing and whirring. In the uncertain yellow light +of the single lamp it was strange to see the loom of the ungainly thing, +flapping off into the shadows, and then circling back into the narrow +zone of light. + +The two men stood for a while in silence. Then Pericord threw his long +arms up into the air. + +"It acts!" he cried. "The Brown-Pericord Motor acts!" He danced about +like a madman in his delight. Brown's eyes twinkled, and he began to +whistle. + +"See how smoothly it goes, Brown!" cried the inventor. "And the +rudder--how well it acts! We must register it tomorrow." + +His comrade's face darkened and set. "It _is_ registered," he said, with +a forced laugh. + +"Registered?" said Pericord. "Registered?" He repeated the word first in +a whisper, and then in a kind of scream. "Who has dared to register my +invention?" + +"I did it this morning. There is nothing to be excited about. It is all +right." + +"You registered the motor! Under whose name?" + +"Under my own," said Brown, sullenly. "I consider that I have the best +right to it." + +"And my name does not appear?" + +"No, but--" + +"You villain!" screamed Pericord. "You thief and villain! You would +steal my work! You would filch my credit! I will have that patent back +if I have to tear your throat out!" A sombre fire burned in his black +eyes, and his hands writhed themselves together with passion. Brown was +no coward, but he shrank back as the other advanced upon him. + +"Keep your hands off!" he said, drawing a knife from his pocket. "I will +defend myself if you attack me." + +"You threaten me?" cried Pericord, whose face was livid with anger. "You +are a bully as well as a cheat. Will you give up the patent?" + +"No, I will not." + +"Brown, I say, give it up!" + +"I will not. I did the work." + +Pericord sprang madly forward with blazing eyes and clutching fingers. +His companion writhed out of his grasp, but was dashed against the +packing-case, over which he fell. The lamp was extinguished, and the +whole barn plunged into darkness. A single ray of moonlight shining +through a narrow chink flickered over the great waving fans as they came +and went. + +"Will you give up the patent, Brown?" + +There was no answer. + +"Will you give it up?" + +Again no answer. Not a sound save the humming and creaking overhead. +A cold pang of fear and doubt struck through Pericord's heart. He felt +aimlessly about in the dark and his fingers closed upon a hand. It was +cold and unresponsive. With all his anger turned to icy horror he struck +a match, set the lamp up, and lit it. + +Brown lay huddled up on the other side of the packing-case. Pericord +seized him in his arms, and with convulsive strength lifted him across. +Then the mystery of his silence was explained. He had fallen with his +right arms doubled up under him, and his own weight had driven the knife +deeply into his body. He had died without a groan. The tragedy had been +sudden, horrible, and complete. + +Pericord sat silently on the edge of the case, staring blankly down, and +shivering like one with the ague, while the great Brown-Pericord Motor +boomed and hurtled above him. How long he sat there can never be known. +It might have been minutes or it might have been hours. A thousand mad +schemes flashed through his dazed brain. It was true that he had been +only the indirect cause. But who would believe that? He glanced down at +his blood-spattered clothing. Everything was against him. It would be +better to fly than to give himself up, relying upon his innocence. No +one in London knew where they were. If he could dispose of the body he +might have a few days clear before any suspicion would be aroused. + +Suddenly a loud crash recalled him to himself. The flying sack had +gradually risen with each successive circle until it had struck against +the rafters. The blow displaced the connecting-gear, and the machine +fell heavily to the ground. Pericord undid the girdle. The motor was +uninjured. A sudden strange thought flashed upon him as he looked at it. +The machine had become hateful to him. He might dispose both of it and +the body in a way that would baffle all human search. + +He threw open the barn door, and carried his companion out into the +moonlight. There was a hillock outside, and on the summit of this he +laid him reverently down. Then he brought from the barn the motor, the +girdle and the flanges. With trembling fingers he fastened the broad +steel belt round the dead man's waist. Then he screwed the wings into +the sockets. Beneath he slung the motor-box, fastened the wires, and +switched on the connection. For a minute or two the huge yellow fans +flapped and flickered. Then the body began to move in little jumps down +the side of the hillock, gathering a gradual momentum, until at last it +heaved up into the air and soared off in the moonlight. He had not used +the rudder, but had turned the head for the south. Gradually the weird +thing rose higher, and sped faster, until it had passed over the line of +cliff, and was sweeping over the silent sea. Pericord watched it with +a white drawn face, until it looked like a black bird with golden wings +half shrouded in the mist which lay over the waters. + +In the New York State Lunatic Asylum there is a wild-eyed man whose name +and birth-place are alike unknown. His reason has been unseated by some +sudden shock, the doctors say, though of what nature they are unable to +determine. "It is the most delicate machine which is most readily put +out of gear," they remark, and point, in proof of their axiom, to the +complicated electric engines, and remarkable aeronautic machines which +the patient is fond of devising in his more lucid moments. + + + + +THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP + + +The following narrative was found among the papers of Dr. James +Hardcastle, who died of phthisis on February 4th, 1908, at 36, Upper +Coventry Flats, South Kensington. Those who knew him best, while +refusing to express an opinion upon this particular statement, are +unanimous in asserting that he was a man of a sober and scientific turn +of mind, absolutely devoid of imagination, and most unlikely to invent +any abnormal series of events. The paper was contained in an envelope, +which was docketed, "A Short Account of the Circumstances which occurred +near Miss Allerton's Farm in North-West Derbyshire in the Spring of Last +Year." The envelope was sealed, and on the other side was written in +pencil-- + +DEAR SEATON,-- + +"It may interest, and perhaps pain you, to know that the incredulity +with which you met my story has prevented me from ever opening my mouth +upon the subject again. I leave this record after my death, and perhaps +strangers may be found to have more confidence in me than my friend." + + +Inquiry has failed to elicit who this Seaton may have been. I may add +that the visit of the deceased to Allerton's Farm, and the general +nature of the alarm there, apart from his particular explanation, have +been absolutely established. With this foreword I append his account +exactly as he left it. It is in the form of a diary, some entries in +which have been expanded, while a few have been erased. + + +April 17.--Already I feel the benefit of this wonderful upland air. +The farm of the Allertons lies fourteen hundred and twenty feet above +sea-level, so it may well be a bracing climate. Beyond the usual morning +cough I have very little discomfort, and, what with the fresh milk and +the home-grown mutton, I have every chance of putting on weight. I think +Saunderson will be pleased. + +The two Miss Allertons are charmingly quaint and kind, two dear little +hard-working old maids, who are ready to lavish all the heart which +might have gone out to husband and to children upon an invalid stranger. +Truly, the old maid is a most useful person, one of the reserve forces +of the community. They talk of the superfluous woman, but what would +the poor superfluous man do without her kindly presence? By the way, +in their simplicity they very quickly let out the reason why Saunderson +recommended their farm. The Professor rose from the ranks himself, and +I believe that in his youth he was not above scaring crows in these very +fields. + +It is a most lonely spot, and the walks are picturesque in the extreme. +The farm consists of grazing land lying at the bottom of an irregular +valley. On each side are the fantastic limestone hills, formed of rock +so soft that you can break it away with your hands. All this country is +hollow. Could you strike it with some gigantic hammer it would boom like +a drum, or possibly cave in altogether and expose some huge subterranean +sea. A great sea there must surely be, for on all sides the streams run +into the mountain itself, never to reappear. There are gaps everywhere +amid the rocks, and when you pass through them you find yourself in +great caverns, which wind down into the bowels of the earth. I have a +small bicycle lamp, and it is a perpetual joy to me to carry it into +these weird solitudes, and to see the wonderful silver and black effect +when I throw its light upon the stalactites which drape the lofty roofs. +Shut off the lamp, and you are in the blackest darkness. Turn it on, and +it is a scene from the Arabian Nights. + +But there is one of these strange openings in the earth which has a +special interest, for it is the handiwork, not of nature, but of man. I +had never heard of Blue John when I came to these parts. It is the name +given to a peculiar mineral of a beautiful purple shade, which is only +found at one or two places in the world. It is so rare that an ordinary +vase of Blue John would be valued at a great price. The Romans, with +that extraordinary instinct of theirs, discovered that it was to be +found in this valley, and sank a horizontal shaft deep into the mountain +side. The opening of their mine has been called Blue John Gap, a +clean-cut arch in the rock, the mouth all overgrown with bushes. It is +a goodly passage which the Roman miners have cut, and it intersects some +of the great water-worn caves, so that if you enter Blue John Gap you +would do well to mark your steps and to have a good store of candles, or +you may never make your way back to the daylight again. I have not +yet gone deeply into it, but this very day I stood at the mouth of the +arched tunnel, and peering down into the black recesses beyond, I vowed +that when my health returned I would devote some holiday to exploring +those mysterious depths and finding out for myself how far the Roman had +penetrated into the Derbyshire hills. + +Strange how superstitious these countrymen are! I should have thought +better of young Armitage, for he is a man of some education and +character, and a very fine fellow for his station in life. I was +standing at the Blue John Gap when he came across the field to me. + +"Well, doctor," said he, "you're not afraid, anyhow." + +"Afraid!" I answered. "Afraid of what?" + +"Of it," said he, with a jerk of his thumb towards the black vault, "of +the Terror that lives in the Blue John Cave." + +How absurdly easy it is for a legend to arise in a lonely countryside! I +examined him as to the reasons for his weird belief. It seems that from +time to time sheep have been missing from the fields, carried bodily +away, according to Armitage. That they could have wandered away of their +own accord and disappeared among the mountains was an explanation to +which he would not listen. On one occasion a pool of blood had been +found, and some tufts of wool. That also, I pointed out, could be +explained in a perfectly natural way. Further, the nights upon which +sheep disappeared were invariably very dark, cloudy nights with no moon. +This I met with the obvious retort that those were the nights which a +commonplace sheep-stealer would naturally choose for his work. On one +occasion a gap had been made in a wall, and some of the stones scattered +for a considerable distance. Human agency again, in my opinion. Finally, +Armitage clinched all his arguments by telling me that he had actually +heard the Creature--indeed, that anyone could hear it who remained long +enough at the Gap. It was a distant roaring of an immense volume. +I could not but smile at this, knowing, as I do, the strange +reverberations which come out of an underground water system running +amid the chasms of a limestone formation. My incredulity annoyed +Armitage, so that he turned and left me with some abruptness. + +And now comes the queer point about the whole business. I was still +standing near the mouth of the cave turning over in my mind the various +statements of Armitage, and reflecting how readily they could be +explained away, when suddenly, from the depth of the tunnel beside me, +there issued a most extraordinary sound. How shall I describe it? First +of all it seemed to be a great distance away, far down in the bowels +of the earth. Secondly, in spite of this suggestion of distance, it was +very loud. Lastly, it was not a boom, nor a crash, such as one would +associate with falling water or tumbling rock, but it was a high whine, +tremulous and vibrating, almost like the whinnying of a horse. It was +certainly a most remarkable experience, and one which for a moment, I +must admit, gave a new significance to Armitage's words. I waited by the +Blue John Gap for half an hour or more, but there was no return of the +sound, so at last I wandered back to the farmhouse, rather mystified +by what had occurred. Decidedly I shall explore that cavern when my +strength is restored. Of course, Armitage's explanation is too absurd +for discussion, and yet that sound was certainly very strange. It still +rings in my ears as I write. + +April 20.--In the last three days I have made several expeditions to +the Blue John Gap, and have even penetrated some short distance, but my +bicycle lantern is so small and weak that I dare not trust myself very +far. I shall do the thing more systematically. I have heard no sound +at all, and could almost believe that I had been the victim of some +hallucination, suggested, perhaps, by Armitage's conversation. Of +course, the whole idea is absurd, and yet I must confess that those +bushes at the entrance of the cave do present an appearance as if some +heavy creature had forced its way through them. I begin to be keenly +interested. I have said nothing to the Miss Allertons, for they are +quite superstitious enough already, but I have bought some candles, and +mean to investigate for myself. + +I observed this morning that among the numerous tufts of sheep's wool +which lay among the bushes near the cavern there was one which was +smeared with blood. Of course, my reason tells me that if sheep wander +into such rocky places they are likely to injure themselves, and yet +somehow that splash of crimson gave me a sudden shock, and for a moment +I found myself shrinking back in horror from the old Roman arch. A fetid +breath seemed to ooze from the black depths into which I peered. Could +it indeed be possible that some nameless thing, some dreadful presence, +was lurking down yonder? I should have been incapable of such feelings +in the days of my strength, but one grows more nervous and fanciful when +one's health is shaken. + +For the moment I weakened in my resolution, and was ready to leave the +secret of the old mine, if one exists, for ever unsolved. But tonight my +interest has returned and my nerves grown more steady. Tomorrow I trust +that I shall have gone more deeply into this matter. + +April 22.--Let me try and set down as accurately as I can my +extraordinary experience of yesterday. I started in the afternoon, and +made my way to the Blue John Gap. I confess that my misgivings returned +as I gazed into its depths, and I wished that I had brought a companion +to share my exploration. Finally, with a return of resolution, I lit my +candle, pushed my way through the briars, and descended into the rocky +shaft. + +It went down at an acute angle for some fifty feet, the floor being +covered with broken stone. Thence there extended a long, straight +passage cut in the solid rock. I am no geologist, but the lining of this +corridor was certainly of some harder material than limestone, for there +were points where I could actually see the tool-marks which the old +miners had left in their excavation, as fresh as if they had been done +yesterday. Down this strange, old-world corridor I stumbled, my feeble +flame throwing a dim circle of light around me, which made the shadows +beyond the more threatening and obscure. Finally, I came to a spot where +the Roman tunnel opened into a water-worn cavern--a huge hall, hung with +long white icicles of lime deposit. From this central chamber I could +dimly perceive that a number of passages worn by the subterranean +streams wound away into the depths of the earth. I was standing there +wondering whether I had better return, or whether I dare venture farther +into this dangerous labyrinth, when my eyes fell upon something at my +feet which strongly arrested my attention. + +The greater part of the floor of the cavern was covered with boulders +of rock or with hard incrustations of lime, but at this particular point +there had been a drip from the distant roof, which had left a patch +of soft mud. In the very centre of this there was a huge mark--an +ill-defined blotch, deep, broad and irregular, as if a great boulder had +fallen upon it. No loose stone lay near, however, nor was there anything +to account for the impression. It was far too large to be caused by any +possible animal, and besides, there was only the one, and the patch of +mud was of such a size that no reasonable stride could have covered it. +As I rose from the examination of that singular mark and then looked +round into the black shadows which hemmed me in, I must confess that I +felt for a moment a most unpleasant sinking of my heart, and that, do +what I could, the candle trembled in my outstretched hand. + +I soon recovered my nerve, however, when I reflected how absurd it was +to associate so huge and shapeless a mark with the track of any known +animal. Even an elephant could not have produced it. I determined, +therefore, that I would not be scared by vague and senseless fears from +carrying out my exploration. Before proceeding, I took good note of +a curious rock formation in the wall by which I could recognize the +entrance of the Roman tunnel. The precaution was very necessary, for +the great cave, so far as I could see it, was intersected by passages. +Having made sure of my position, and reassured myself by examining +my spare candles and my matches, I advanced slowly over the rocky and +uneven surface of the cavern. + +And now I come to the point where I met with such sudden and desperate +disaster. A stream, some twenty feet broad, ran across my path, and I +walked for some little distance along the bank to find a spot where I +could cross dry-shod. Finally, I came to a place where a single flat +boulder lay near the centre, which I could reach in a stride. As it +chanced, however, the rock had been cut away and made top-heavy by the +rush of the stream, so that it tilted over as I landed on it and shot +me into the ice-cold water. My candle went out, and I found myself +floundering about in utter and absolute darkness. + +I staggered to my feet again, more amused than alarmed by my adventure. +The candle had fallen from my hand, and was lost in the stream, but I +had two others in my pocket, so that it was of no importance. I got one +of them ready, and drew out my box of matches to light it. Only then +did I realize my position. The box had been soaked in my fall into the +river. It was impossible to strike the matches. + +A cold hand seemed to close round my heart as I realized my position. +The darkness was opaque and horrible. It was so utter that one put one's +hand up to one's face as if to press off something solid. I stood still, +and by an effort I steadied myself. I tried to reconstruct in my mind a +map of the floor of the cavern as I had last seen it. Alas! the bearings +which had impressed themselves upon my mind were high on the wall, and +not to be found by touch. Still, I remembered in a general way how the +sides were situated, and I hoped that by groping my way along them I +should at last come to the opening of the Roman tunnel. Moving very +slowly, and continually striking against the rocks, I set out on this +desperate quest. + +But I very soon realized how impossible it was. In that black, velvety +darkness one lost all one's bearings in an instant. Before I had made a +dozen paces, I was utterly bewildered as to my whereabouts. The rippling +of the stream, which was the one sound audible, showed me where it lay, +but the moment that I left its bank I was utterly lost. The idea +of finding my way back in absolute darkness through that limestone +labyrinth was clearly an impossible one. + +I sat down upon a boulder and reflected upon my unfortunate plight. I +had not told anyone that I proposed to come to the Blue John mine, and +it was unlikely that a search party would come after me. Therefore I +must trust to my own resources to get clear of the danger. There was +only one hope, and that was that the matches might dry. When I fell into +the river, only half of me had got thoroughly wet. My left shoulder had +remained above the water. I took the box of matches, therefore, and put +it into my left armpit. The moist air of the cavern might possibly be +counteracted by the heat of my body, but even so, I knew that I could +not hope to get a light for many hours. Meanwhile there was nothing for +it but to wait. + +By good luck I had slipped several biscuits into my pocket before I +left the farm-house. These I now devoured, and washed them down with +a draught from that wretched stream which had been the cause of all my +misfortunes. Then I felt about for a comfortable seat among the rocks, +and, having discovered a place where I could get a support for my +back, I stretched out my legs and settled myself down to wait. I +was wretchedly damp and cold, but I tried to cheer myself with the +reflection that modern science prescribed open windows and walks in all +weather for my disease. Gradually, lulled by the monotonous gurgle of +the stream, and by the absolute darkness, I sank into an uneasy slumber. + +How long this lasted I cannot say. It may have been for an hour, it may +have been for several. Suddenly I sat up on my rock couch, with every +nerve thrilling and every sense acutely on the alert. Beyond all doubt +I had heard a sound--some sound very distinct from the gurgling of the +waters. It had passed, but the reverberation of it still lingered in my +ear. Was it a search party? They would most certainly have shouted, and +vague as this sound was which had wakened me, it was very distinct from +the human voice. I sat palpitating and hardly daring to breathe. +There it was again! And again! Now it had become continuous. It was a +tread--yes, surely it was the tread of some living creature. But what a +tread it was! It gave one the impression of enormous weight carried upon +sponge-like feet, which gave forth a muffled but ear-filling sound. +The darkness was as complete as ever, but the tread was regular and +decisive. And it was coming beyond all question in my direction. + +My skin grew cold, and my hair stood on end as I listened to that steady +and ponderous footfall. There was some creature there, and surely by the +speed of its advance, it was one which could see in the dark. I crouched +low on my rock and tried to blend myself into it. The steps grew nearer +still, then stopped, and presently I was aware of a loud lapping and +gurgling. The creature was drinking at the stream. Then again there was +silence, broken by a succession of long sniffs and snorts of tremendous +volume and energy. Had it caught the scent of me? My own nostrils were +filled by a low fetid odour, mephitic and abominable. Then I heard the +steps again. They were on my side of the stream now. The stones rattled +within a few yards of where I lay. Hardly daring to breathe, I crouched +upon my rock. Then the steps drew away. I heard the splash as it +returned across the river, and the sound died away into the distance in +the direction from which it had come. + +For a long time I lay upon the rock, too much horrified to move. I +thought of the sound which I had heard coming from the depths of the +cave, of Armitage's fears, of the strange impression in the mud, and +now came this final and absolute proof that there was indeed some +inconceivable monster, something utterly unearthly and dreadful, which +lurked in the hollow of the mountain. Of its nature or form I could +frame no conception, save that it was both light-footed and gigantic. +The combat between my reason, which told me that such things could not +be, and my senses, which told me that they were, raged within me as I +lay. Finally, I was almost ready to persuade myself that this experience +had been part of some evil dream, and that my abnormal condition +might have conjured up an hallucination. But there remained one final +experience which removed the last possibility of doubt from my mind. + +I had taken my matches from my armpit and felt them. They seemed +perfectly hard and dry. Stooping down into a crevice of the rocks, I +tried one of them. To my delight it took fire at once. I lit the candle, +and, with a terrified backward glance into the obscure depths of the +cavern, I hurried in the direction of the Roman passage. As I did so +I passed the patch of mud on which I had seen the huge imprint. Now I +stood astonished before it, for there were three similar imprints upon +its surface, enormous in size, irregular in outline, of a depth which +indicated the ponderous weight which had left them. Then a great terror +surged over me. Stooping and shading my candle with my hand, I ran in a +frenzy of fear to the rocky archway, hastened up it, and never stopped +until, with weary feet and panting lungs, I rushed up the final slope of +stones, broke through the tangle of briars, and flung myself exhausted +upon the soft grass under the peaceful light of the stars. It was +three in the morning when I reached the farm-house, and today I am all +unstrung and quivering after my terrific adventure. As yet I have told +no one. I must move warily in the matter. What would the poor lonely +women, or the uneducated yokels here think of it if I were to tell them +my experience? Let me go to someone who can understand and advise. + +April 25.--I was laid up in bed for two days after my incredible +adventure in the cavern. I use the adjective with a very definite +meaning, for I have had an experience since which has shocked me almost +as much as the other. I have said that I was looking round for someone +who could advise me. There is a Dr. Mark Johnson who practices some +few miles away, to whom I had a note of recommendation from Professor +Saunderson. To him I drove, when I was strong enough to get about, and I +recounted to him my whole strange experience. He listened intently, and +then carefully examined me, paying special attention to my reflexes and +to the pupils of my eyes. When he had finished, he refused to discuss +my adventure, saying that it was entirely beyond him, but he gave me +the card of a Mr. Picton at Castleton, with the advice that I should +instantly go to him and tell him the story exactly as I had done +to himself. He was, according to my adviser, the very man who was +pre-eminently suited to help me. I went on to the station, therefore, +and made my way to the little town, which is some ten miles away. +Mr. Picton appeared to be a man of importance, as his brass plate was +displayed upon the door of a considerable building on the outskirts of +the town. I was about to ring his bell, when some misgiving came into my +mind, and, crossing to a neighbouring shop, I asked the man behind the +counter if he could tell me anything of Mr. Picton. "Why," said he, "he +is the best mad doctor in Derbyshire, and yonder is his asylum." You can +imagine that it was not long before I had shaken the dust of Castleton +from my feet and returned to the farm, cursing all unimaginative pedants +who cannot conceive that there may be things in creation which have +never yet chanced to come across their mole's vision. After all, +now that I am cooler, I can afford to admit that I have been no more +sympathetic to Armitage than Dr. Johnson has been to me. + +April 27. When I was a student I had the reputation of being a man of +courage and enterprise. I remember that when there was a ghost-hunt at +Coltbridge it was I who sat up in the haunted house. Is it advancing +years (after all, I am only thirty-five), or is it this physical malady +which has caused degeneration? Certainly my heart quails when I think +of that horrible cavern in the hill, and the certainty that it has some +monstrous occupant. What shall I do? There is not an hour in the day +that I do not debate the question. If I say nothing, then the mystery +remains unsolved. If I do say anything, then I have the alternative of +mad alarm over the whole countryside, or of absolute incredulity which +may end in consigning me to an asylum. On the whole, I think that my +best course is to wait, and to prepare for some expedition which shall +be more deliberate and better thought out than the last. As a first +step I have been to Castleton and obtained a few essentials--a large +acetylene lantern for one thing, and a good double-barrelled sporting +rifle for another. The latter I have hired, but I have bought a dozen +heavy game cartridges, which would bring down a rhinoceros. Now I am +ready for my troglodyte friend. Give me better health and a little spate +of energy, and I shall try conclusions with him yet. But who and what is +he? Ah! there is the question which stands between me and my sleep. +How many theories do I form, only to discard each in turn! It is all +so utterly unthinkable. And yet the cry, the footmark, the tread in +the cavern--no reasoning can get past these. I think of the old-world +legends of dragons and of other monsters. Were they, perhaps, not such +fairy-tales as we have thought? Can it be that there is some fact which +underlies them, and am I, of all mortals, the one who is chosen to +expose it? + +May 3.--For several days I have been laid up by the vagaries of an +English spring, and during those days there have been developments, the +true and sinister meaning of which no one can appreciate save myself. +I may say that we have had cloudy and moonless nights of late, +which according to my information were the seasons upon which sheep +disappeared. Well, sheep _have_ disappeared. Two of Miss Allerton's, one +of old Pearson's of the Cat Walk, and one of Mrs. Moulton's. Four in +all during three nights. No trace is left of them at all, and the +countryside is buzzing with rumours of gipsies and of sheep-stealers. + +But there is something more serious than that. Young Armitage has +disappeared also. He left his moorland cottage early on Wednesday night +and has never been heard of since. He was an unattached man, so there is +less sensation than would otherwise be the case. The popular explanation +is that he owes money, and has found a situation in some other part of +the country, whence he will presently write for his belongings. But +I have grave misgivings. Is it not much more likely that the recent +tragedy of the sheep has caused him to take some steps which may have +ended in his own destruction? He may, for example, have lain in wait +for the creature and been carried off by it into the recesses of the +mountains. What an inconceivable fate for a civilized Englishman of the +twentieth century! And yet I feel that it is possible and even probable. +But in that case, how far am I answerable both for his death and for +any other mishap which may occur? Surely with the knowledge I already +possess it must be my duty to see that something is done, or if +necessary to do it myself. It must be the latter, for this morning I +went down to the local police-station and told my story. The inspector +entered it all in a large book and bowed me out with commendable +gravity, but I heard a burst of laughter before I had got down his +garden path. No doubt he was recounting my adventure to his family. + +June 10.--I am writing this, propped up in bed, six weeks after my last +entry in this journal. I have gone through a terrible shock both to mind +and body, arising from such an experience as has seldom befallen a human +being before. But I have attained my end. The danger from the Terror +which dwells in the Blue John Gap has passed never to return. Thus much +at least I, a broken invalid, have done for the common good. Let me now +recount what occurred as clearly as I may. + +The night of Friday, May 3rd, was dark and cloudy--the very night for +the monster to walk. About eleven o'clock I went from the farm-house +with my lantern and my rifle, having first left a note upon the table +of my bedroom in which I said that, if I were missing, search should be +made for me in the direction of the Gap. I made my way to the mouth of +the Roman shaft, and, having perched myself among the rocks close to the +opening, I shut off my lantern and waited patiently with my loaded rifle +ready to my hand. + +It was a melancholy vigil. All down the winding valley I could see +the scattered lights of the farm-houses, and the church clock of +Chapel-le-Dale tolling the hours came faintly to my ears. These tokens +of my fellow-men served only to make my own position seem the more +lonely, and to call for a greater effort to overcome the terror which +tempted me continually to get back to the farm, and abandon for ever +this dangerous quest. And yet there lies deep in every man a rooted +self-respect which makes it hard for him to turn back from that which +he has once undertaken. This feeling of personal pride was my salvation +now, and it was that alone which held me fast when every instinct of my +nature was dragging me away. I am glad now that I had the strength. In +spite of all that is has cost me, my manhood is at least above reproach. + +Twelve o'clock struck in the distant church, then one, then two. It was +the darkest hour of the night. The clouds were drifting low, and there +was not a star in the sky. An owl was hooting somewhere among the rocks, +but no other sound, save the gentle sough of the wind, came to my ears. +And then suddenly I heard it! From far away down the tunnel came those +muffled steps, so soft and yet so ponderous. I heard also the rattle of +stones as they gave way under that giant tread. They drew nearer. +They were close upon me. I heard the crashing of the bushes round the +entrance, and then dimly through the darkness I was conscious of the +loom of some enormous shape, some monstrous inchoate creature, passing +swiftly and very silently out from the tunnel. I was paralysed with fear +and amazement. Long as I had waited, now that it had actually come I was +unprepared for the shock. I lay motionless and breathless, whilst the +great dark mass whisked by me and was swallowed up in the night. + +But now I nerved myself for its return. No sound came from the sleeping +countryside to tell of the horror which was loose. In no way could I +judge how far off it was, what it was doing, or when it might be back. +But not a second time should my nerve fail me, not a second time should +it pass unchallenged. I swore it between my clenched teeth as I laid my +cocked rifle across the rock. + +And yet it nearly happened. There was no warning of approach now as the +creature passed over the grass. Suddenly, like a dark, drifting shadow, +the huge bulk loomed up once more before me, making for the entrance of +the cave. Again came that paralysis of volition which held my crooked +forefinger impotent upon the trigger. But with a desperate effort I +shook it off. Even as the brushwood rustled, and the monstrous beast +blended with the shadow of the Gap, I fired at the retreating form. +In the blaze of the gun I caught a glimpse of a great shaggy mass, +something with rough and bristling hair of a withered grey colour, +fading away to white in its lower parts, the huge body supported upon +short, thick, curving legs. I had just that glance, and then I heard the +rattle of the stones as the creature tore down into its burrow. In an +instant, with a triumphant revulsion of feeling, I had cast my fears to +the wind, and uncovering my powerful lantern, with my rifle in my hand, +I sprang down from my rock and rushed after the monster down the old +Roman shaft. + +My splendid lamp cast a brilliant flood of vivid light in front of me, +very different from the yellow glimmer which had aided me down the +same passage only twelve days before. As I ran, I saw the great beast +lurching along before me, its huge bulk filling up the whole space from +wall to wall. Its hair looked like coarse faded oakum, and hung down +in long, dense masses which swayed as it moved. It was like an enormous +unclipped sheep in its fleece, but in size it was far larger than the +largest elephant, and its breadth seemed to be nearly as great as its +height. It fills me with amazement now to think that I should have dared +to follow such a horror into the bowels of the earth, but when one's +blood is up, and when one's quarry seems to be flying, the old primeval +hunting-spirit awakes and prudence is cast to the wind. Rifle in hand, I +ran at the top of my speed upon the trail of the monster. + +I had seen that the creature was swift. Now I was to find out to my +cost that it was also very cunning. I had imagined that it was in panic +flight, and that I had only to pursue it. The idea that it might turn +upon me never entered my excited brain. I have already explained that +the passage down which I was racing opened into a great central cave. +Into this I rushed, fearful lest I should lose all trace of the beast. +But he had turned upon his own traces, and in a moment we were face to +face. + +That picture, seen in the brilliant white light of the lantern, is +etched for ever upon my brain. He had reared up on his hind legs as a +bear would do, and stood above me, enormous, menacing--such a creature +as no nightmare had ever brought to my imagination. I have said that +he reared like a bear, and there was something bear-like--if one could +conceive a bear which was ten-fold the bulk of any bear seen upon +earth--in his whole pose and attitude, in his great crooked forelegs +with their ivory-white claws, in his rugged skin, and in his red, gaping +mouth, fringed with monstrous fangs. Only in one point did he differ +from the bear, or from any other creature which walks the earth, and +even at that supreme moment a shudder of horror passed over me as I +observed that the eyes which glistened in the glow of my lantern were +huge, projecting bulbs, white and sightless. For a moment his great paws +swung over my head. The next he fell forward upon me, I and my broken +lantern crashed to the earth, and I remember no more. + + +When I came to myself I was back in the farm-house of the Allertons. +Two days had passed since my terrible adventure in the Blue John Gap. It +seems that I had lain all night in the cave insensible from concussion +of the brain, with my left arm and two ribs badly fractured. In the +morning my note had been found, a search party of a dozen farmers +assembled, and I had been tracked down and carried back to my bedroom, +where I had lain in high delirium ever since. There was, it seems, no +sign of the creature, and no bloodstain which would show that my bullet +had found him as he passed. Save for my own plight and the marks upon +the mud, there was nothing to prove that what I said was true. + +Six weeks have now elapsed, and I am able to sit out once more in the +sunshine. Just opposite me is the steep hillside, grey with shaly rock, +and yonder on its flank is the dark cleft which marks the opening of +the Blue John Gap. But it is no longer a source of terror. Never again +through that ill-omened tunnel shall any strange shape flit out into the +world of men. The educated and the scientific, the Dr. Johnsons and the +like, may smile at my narrative, but the poorer folk of the countryside +had never a doubt as to its truth. On the day after my recovering +consciousness they assembled in their hundreds round the Blue John Gap. +As the _Castleton Courier_ said: + + +"It was useless for our correspondent, or for any of the adventurous +gentlemen who had come from Matlock, Buxton, and other parts, to offer +to descend, to explore the cave to the end, and to finally test the +extraordinary narrative of Dr. James Hardcastle. The country people had +taken the matter into their own hands, and from an early hour of the +morning they had worked hard in stopping up the entrance of the tunnel. +There is a sharp slope where the shaft begins, and great boulders, +rolled along by many willing hands, were thrust down it until the +Gap was absolutely sealed. So ends the episode which has caused such +excitement throughout the country. Local opinion is fiercely +divided upon the subject. On the one hand are those who point to Dr. +Hardcastle's impaired health, and to the possibility of cerebral lesions +of tubercular origin giving rise to strange hallucinations. Some _idee +fixe_, according to these gentlemen, caused the doctor to wander down +the tunnel, and a fall among the rocks was sufficient to account for his +injuries. On the other hand, a legend of a strange creature in the +Gap has existed for some months back, and the farmers look upon +Dr. Hardcastle's narrative and his personal injuries as a final +corroboration. So the matter stands, and so the matter will continue +to stand, for no definite solution seems to us to be now possible. It +transcends human wit to give any scientific explanation which could +cover the alleged facts." + + +Perhaps before the _Courier_ published these words they would have been +wise to send their representative to me. I have thought the matter out, +as no one else has occasion to do, and it is possible that I might +have removed some of the more obvious difficulties of the narrative and +brought it one degree nearer to scientific acceptance. Let me then write +down the only explanation which seems to me to elucidate what I know to +my cost to have been a series of facts. My theory may seem to be +wildly improbable, but at least no one can venture to say that it is +impossible. + +My view is--and it was formed, as is shown by my diary, before my +personal adventure--that in this part of England there is a vast +subterranean lake or sea, which is fed by the great number of streams +which pass down through the limestone. Where there is a large collection +of water there must also be some evaporation, mists or rain, and a +possibility of vegetation. This in turn suggests that there may be +animal life, arising, as the vegetable life would also do, from those +seeds and types which had been introduced at an early period of the +world's history, when communication with the outer air was more easy. +This place had then developed a fauna and flora of its own, including +such monsters as the one which I had seen, which may well have been the +old cave-bear, enormously enlarged and modified by its new environment. +For countless aeons the internal and the external creation had kept +apart, growing steadily away from each other. Then there had come some +rift in the depths of the mountain which had enabled one creature to +wander up and, by means of the Roman tunnel, to reach the open air. Like +all subterranean life, it had lost the power of sight, but this had no +doubt been compensated for by nature in other directions. Certainly it +had some means of finding its way about, and of hunting down the sheep +upon the hillside. As to its choice of dark nights, it is part of my +theory that light was painful to those great white eyeballs, and that it +was only a pitch-black world which it could tolerate. Perhaps, indeed, +it was the glare of my lantern which saved my life at that awful moment +when we were face to face. So I read the riddle. I leave these facts +behind me, and if you can explain them, do so; or if you choose to doubt +them, do so. Neither your belief nor your incredulity can alter them, +nor affect one whose task is nearly over. + + +So ended the strange narrative of Dr. James Hardcastle. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Galley, by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST GALLEY *** + +***** This file should be named 8727.txt or 8727.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/7/2/8727/ + +Produced by Lionel G. 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You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Last Galley Impressions and Tales + Impressions and Tales + +Author: Arthur Conan Doyle + +Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8727] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on August 4, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST GALLEY *** + + + + +Produced by Lionel G. Sear of Truro, Cornwall, England. + + + + +THE LAST GALLEY. + +IMPRESSIONS AND TALES + +Arthur Conan Doyle. + + + +PREFACE + + + +I have written "Impressions and Tales" upon the title-page of this +volume, because I have included within the same cover two styles of work +which present an essential difference. + +The second half of the collection consists of eight stories, which +explain themselves. + +The first half is made up of a series of pictures of the past which +maybe regarded as trial flights towards a larger ideal which I have long +had in my mind. It has seemed to me that there is a region between +actual story and actual history which has never been adequately +exploited. I could imagine, for example, a work dealing with some great +historical epoch, and finding its interest not in the happenings to +particular individuals, their adventures and their loves, but in the +fascination of the actual facts of history themselves. These facts +might be coloured with the glamour which the writer of fiction can give, +and fictitious characters and conversations might illustrate them; but +none the less the actual drama of history and not the drama of invention +should claim the attention of the reader. I have been tempted sometimes +to try the effect upon a larger scale; but meanwhile these short +sketches, portraying various crises in the story of the human race, are +to be judged as experiments in that direction. + +ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. + +WINDLESHAM, +CROWBOROUGH, +April, 1911. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PART I + +THE LAST GALLEY +THE CONTEST +THROUGH THE VEIL +AN ICONOCLAST +GIANT MAXIMIN +THE COMING OF THE HUNS +THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS +THE FIRST CARGO +THE HOME-COMING +THE RED STAR + + + +PART II + + + +THE SILVER MIRROR +THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY +THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER +THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE +OUT OF THE RUNNING +"DE PROFUNDIS" +THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR +THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP + + + + + +PART I + + + + +THE LAST GALLEY + + +"Mutato nomine, de te, Britannia, fabula narratur." + +It was a spring morning, one hundred and forty-six years before the +coming of Christ. The North African Coast, with its broad hem of golden +sand, its green belt of feathery palm trees, and its background of +barren, red-scarped hills, shimmered like a dream country in the opal +light. Save for a narrow edge of snow-white surf, the Mediterranean +lay blue and serene as far as the eye could reach. In all its vast +expanse there was no break but for a single galley, which was slowly +making its way from the direction of Sicily and heading for the distant +harbour of Carthage. + +Seen from afar it was a stately and beautiful vessel, deep red in +colour, double-banked with scarlet oars, its broad, flapping sail +stained with Tyrian purple, its bulwarks gleaming with brass work. +A brazen, three-pronged ram projected in front, and a high golden figure +of Baal, the God of the Phoenicians, children of Canaan, shone upon the +after deck. From the single high mast above the huge sail streamed the +tiger-striped flag of Carthage. So, like some stately scarlet bird, +with golden beak and wings of purple, she swam upon the face of the +waters--a thing of might and of beauty as seen from the distant shore. + +But approach and look at her now! What are these dark streaks which +foul her white decks and dapple her brazen shields? Why do the long red +oars move out of time, irregular, convulsive? Why are some missing from +the staring portholes, some snapped with jagged, yellow edges, some +trailing inert against the side? Why are two prongs of the brazen ram +twisted and broken? See, even the high image of Baal is battered and +disfigured! By every sign this ship has passed through some grievous +trial, some day of terror, which has left its heavy marks upon her. + +And now stand upon the deck itself, and see more closely the men who man +her! There are two decks forward and aft, while in the open waist are +the double banks of seats, above and below, where the rowers, two to an +oar, tug and bend at their endless task. Down the centre is a narrow +platform, along which pace a line of warders, lash in hand, who cut +cruelly at the slave who pauses, be it only for an instant, to sweep the +sweat from his dripping brow. But these slaves--look at them! Some are +captured Romans, some Sicilians, many black Libyans, but all are in the +last exhaustion, their weary eyelids drooped over their eyes, their lips +thick with black crusts, and pink with bloody froth, their arms and +backs moving mechanically to the hoarse chant of the overseer. Their +bodies of all tints from ivory to jet, are stripped to the waist, and +every glistening back shows the angry stripes of the warders. But it is +not from these that the blood comes which reddens the seats and tints +the salt water washing beneath their manacled feet. Great gaping +wounds, the marks of sword slash and spear stab, show crimson upon their +naked chests and shoulders, while many lie huddled and senseless athwart +the benches, careless for ever of the whips which still hiss above them. +Now we can understand those empty portholes and those trailing oars. + +Nor were the crew in better case than their slaves. The decks were +littered with wounded and dying men. It was but a remnant who still +remained upon their feet. The most lay exhausted upon the fore-deck, +while a few of the more zealous were mending their shattered armour, +restringing their bows, or cleaning the deck from the marks of combat. +Upon a raised platform at the base of the mast stood the sailing-master +who conned the ship, his eyes fixed upon the distant point of Megara +which screened the eastern side of the Bay of Carthage. On the +after-deck were gathered a number of officers, silent and brooding, +glancing from time to time at two of their own class who stood apart +deep in conversation. The one, tall, dark, and wiry, with pure, Semitic +features, and the limbs of a giant, was Magro, the famous Carthaginian +captain, whose name was still a terror on every shore, from Gaul to the +Euxine. The other, a white-bearded, swarthy man, with indomitable +courage and energy stamped upon every eager line of his keen, aquiline +face, was Gisco the politician, a man of the highest Punic blood, a +Suffete of the purple robe, and the leader of that party in the State +which had watched and striven amid the selfishness and slothfulness of +his fellow-countrymen to rouse the public spirit and waken the public +conscience to the ever-increasing danger from Rome. As they talked, the +two men glanced continually, with earnest anxious faces, towards the +northern skyline. + +"It is certain," said the older man, with gloom in his voice and +bearing, "none have escaped save ourselves." + +"I did not leave the press of the battle whilst I saw one ship which I +could succour," Magro answered. "As it was, we came away, as you saw, +like a wolf which has a hound hanging on to either haunch. The Roman +dogs can show the wolf-bites which prove it. Had any other galley won +clear, they would surely be with us by now, since they have no place of +safety save Carthage." + +The younger warrior glanced keenly ahead to the distant point which +marked his native city. Already the low, leafy hill could be seen, +dotted with the white villas of the wealthy Phoenician merchants. +Above them, a gleaming dot against the pale blue morning sky, shone the +brazen roof of the citadel of Byrsa, which capped the sloping town. + +"Already they can see us from the watch-towers," he remarked. "Even +from afar they may know the galley of Black Magro. But which of all of +them will guess that we alone remain of all that goodly fleet which +sailed out with blare of trumpet and roll of drum but one short month +ago?" + +The patrician smiled bitterly. "If it were not for our great ancestors +and for our beloved country, the Queen of the Waters," said he, +"I could find it in my heart to be glad at this destruction which has +come upon this vain and feeble generation. You have spent your life +upon the seas, Magro. You do not know of know how it has been with us +on the land. But I have seen this canker grow upon us which now leads +us to our death. I and others have gone down into the market-place to +plead with the people, and been pelted with mud for our pains. Many a +time have I pointed to Rome, and said, 'Behold these people, who bear +arms themselves, each man for his own duty and pride. How can you who +hide behind mercenaries hope to stand against them?'--a hundred times I +have said it." + +"And had they no answer?" asked the Rover. + +"Rome was far off and they could not see it, so to them it was nothing," +the old man answered. "Some thought of trade, and some of votes, and +some of profits from the State, but none would see that the State +itself, the mother of all things, was sinking to her end. So might the +bees debate who should have wax or honey when the torch was blazing +which would bring to ashes the hive and all therein. 'Are we not rulers +of the sea?' 'Was not Hannibal a great man?' Such were their cries, +living ever in the past and blind to the future. Before that sun sets +there will be tearing of hair and rending of garments; what will that +now avail us?" + +"It is some sad comfort," said Magro, "to know that what Rome holds she +cannot keep." + +"Why say you that? When we go down, she is supreme in all the world." + +"For a time, and only for a time," Magro answered, gravely. "Yet you +will smile, perchance, when I tell you how it is that I know it. +There was a wise woman who lived in that part of the Tin Islands which +juts forth into the sea, and from her lips I have heard many things, but +not one which has not come aright. Of the fall of our own country, +and even of this battle, from which we now return, she told me clearly. +There is much strange lore amongst these savage peoples in the west of +the land of Tin." + +"What said she of Rome?" + +"That she also would fall, even as we, weakened by her riches and her +factions." + +Gisco rubbed his hands. "That at least makes our own fall less bitter," +said he. "But since we have fallen, and Rome will fall, who in turn may +hope to be Queen of the Waters?" + +"That also I asked her," said Magro, "and gave her my Tyrian belt with +the golden buckle as a guerdon for her answer. But, indeed, it was too +high payment for the tale she told, which must be false if all else she +said was true. She would have it that in coining days it was her own +land, this fog-girt isle where painted savages can scarce row a wicker +coracle from point to point, which shall at last take the trident which +Carthage and Rome have dropped." + +The smile which flickered upon the old patrician's keen features died +away suddenly, and his fingers closed upon his companion's wrist. +The other had set rigid, his head advanced, his hawk eyes upon the +northern skyline. Its straight, blue horizon was broken by two low +black dots. + +"Galleys!" whispered Gisco. + +The whole crew had seen them. They clustered along the starboard +bulwarks, pointing and chattering. For a moment the gloom of defeat was +lifted, and a buzz of joy ran from group to group at the thought that +they were not alone--that some one had escaped the great carnage as well +as themselves. + +"By the spirit of Baal," said Black Magro, "I could not have believed +that any could have fought clear from such a welter. Could it be young +Hamilcar in the _Africa_, or is it Beneva in the blue Syrian ship? +We three with others may form a squadron and make head against them yet. +If we hold our course, they will join us ere we round the harbour mole." + +Slowly the injured galley toiled on her way, and more swiftly the two +newcomers swept down from the north. Only a few miles off lay the green +point and the white houses which flanked the great African city. +Already, upon the headland, could be seen a dark group of waiting +townsmen. Gisco and Magro were still watching with puckered gaze the +approaching galleys, when the brown Libyan boatswain, with flashing +teeth and gleaming eyes, rushed upon the poop, his long thin arm +stabbing to the north. + +"Romans!" he cried. "Romans!" + +A hush had fallen over the great vessel. Only the wash of the water and +the measured rattle and beat of the oars broke in upon the silence. + +"By the horns of God's altar, I believe the fellow is right!" cried old +Gisco. "See how they swoop upon us like falcons. They are full-manned +and full-oared." + +"Plain wood, unpainted," said Magro. "See how it gleams yellow where +the sun strikes it." + +"And yonder thing beneath the mast. Is it not the cursed bridge they +use for boarding?" + +"So they grudge us even one," said Magro with a bitter laugh. "Not even +one galley shall return to the old sea-mother. Well, for my part, I +would as soon have it so. I am of a mind to stop the oars and await +them." + +"It is a man's thought," answered old Gisco; "but the city will need us +in the days to come. What shall it profit us to make the Roman victory +complete? Nay, Magro, let the slaves row as they never rowed before, +not for our own safety, but for the profit of the State." + +So the great red ship laboured and lurched onwards, like a weary panting +stag which seeks shelter from his pursuers, while ever swifter and ever +nearer sped the two lean fierce galleys from the north. Already the +morning sun shone upon the lines of low Roman helmets above the +bulwarks, and glistened on the silver wave where each sharp prow shot +through the still blue water. Every moment the ships drew nearer, and +the long thin scream of the Roman trumpets grew louder upon the ear. + +Upon the high bluff of Megara there stood a great concourse of the +people of Carthage who had hurried forth from the city upon the news +that the galleys were in sight. They stood now, rich and poor, effete +and plebeian, white Phoenician and dark Kabyle, gazing with breathless +interest at the spectacle before them. Some hundreds of feet beneath +them the Punic galley had drawn so close that with their naked eyes they +could see those stains of battle which told their dismal tale. +The Romans, too, were heading in such a way that it was before their +very faces that their ship was about to be cut off; and yet of all this +multitude not one could raise a hand in its defence. Some wept in +impotent grief, some cursed with flashing eyes and knotted fists, some +on their knees held up appealing hands to Baal; but neither prayer, +tears, nor curses could undo the past nor mend the present. That +broken, crawling galley meant that their fleet was gone. Those two +fierce darting ships meant that the hands of Rome were already at their +throat. Behind them would come others and others, the innumerable +trained hosts of the great Republic, long mistress of the land, now +dominant also upon the waters. In a month, two months, three at the +most, their armies would be there, and what could all the untrained +multitudes of Carthage do to stop them? + +"Nay!" cried one, more hopeful than the rest, "at least we are brave men +with arms in our hands." + +"Fool!" said another, "is it not such talk which has brought us to our +ruin? What is the brave man untrained to the brave man trained? When +you stand before the sweep and rush of a Roman legion you may learn the +difference." + +"Then let us train!" + +"Too late! A full year is needful to turn a man to a soldier. Where +will you--where will your city be within the year? Nay, there is but +one chance for us. If we give up our commerce and our colonies, if we +strip ourselves of all that made us great, then perchance the Roman +conqueror may hold his hand." + +And already the last sea-fight of Carthage was coming swiftly to an end +before them. Under their very eyes the two Roman galleys had shot in, +one on either side of the vessel of Black Magro. They had grappled with +him, and he, desperate in his despair, had cast the crooked flukes of +his anchors over their gunwales, and bound them to him in an iron grip, +whilst with hammer and crowbar he burst great holes in his own +sheathing. The last Punic galley should never be rowed into Ostia, a +sight for the holiday-makers of Rome. She would lie in her own waters. +And the fierce, dark soul of her rover captain glowed as he thought that +not alone should she sink into the depths of the mother sea. + +Too late did the Romans understand the man with whom they had to deal. +Their boarders who had flooded the Punic decks felt the planking sink +and sway beneath them. They rushed to gain their own vessels; but they, +too, were being drawn downwards, held in the dying grip of the great red +galley. Over they went and ever over. Now the deck of Magro's ship is +flush with the water, and the Romans, drawn towards it by the iron bonds +which held them, are tilted downwards, one bulwark upon the waves, +one reared high in the air. Madly they strain to cast off the death +grip of the galley. She is under the surface now, and ever swifter, +with the greater weight, the Roman ships heel after her. There is a +rending crash. The wooden side is torn out of one, and mutilated, +dismembered, she rights herself, and lies a helpless thing upon the +water. But a last yellow gleam in the blue water shows where her +consort has been dragged to her end in the iron death-grapple of her +foemen. The tiger-striped flag of Carthage has sunk beneath the +swirling surface, never more to be seen upon the face of the sea. + +For in that year a great cloud hung for seventeen days over the African +coast, a deep black cloud which was the dark shroud of the burning city. +And when the seventeen days were over, Roman ploughs were driven from +end to end of the charred ashes, and salt was scattered there as a sign +that Carthage should be no more. And far off a huddle of naked, +starving folk stood upon the distant mountains, and looked down upon the +desolate plain which had once been the fairest and richest upon earth. +And they understood too late that it is the law of heaven that the world +is given to the hardy and to the self-denying, whilst he who would +escape the duties of manhood will soon be stripped of the pride, the +wealth, and the power, which are the prizes which manhood brings. + + + +THE CONTEST. + + +In the year of our Lord 66, the Emperor Nero, being at that time in the +twenty-ninth year of his life and the thirteenth of his reign, set sail +for Greece with the strangest company and the most singular design +that any monarch has ever entertained. With ten galleys he went forth +from Puteoli, carrying with him great stores of painted scenery and +theatrical properties, together with a number of knights and senators, +whom he feared to leave behind him at Rome, and who were all marked for +death in the course of his wanderings. In his train he took Natus, +his singing coach; Cluvius, a man with a monstrous voice, who should +bawl out his titles; and a thousand trained youths who had learned to +applaud in unison whenever their master sang or played in public. +So deftly had they been taught that each had his own role to play. +Some did no more than give forth a low deep hum of speechless +appreciation. Some clapped with enthusiasm. Some, rising from +approbation into absolute frenzy, shrieked, stamped, and beat sticks +upon the benches. Some--and they were the most effective--had learned +from an Alexandrian a long droning musical note which they all uttered +together, so that it boomed over the assembly. With the aid of these +mercenary admirers, Nero had every hope, in spite of his indifferent +voice and clumsy execution, to return to Rome, bearing with him the +chaplets for song offered for free competition by the Greek cities. +As his great gilded galley with two tiers of oars passed down the +Mediterranean, the Emperor sat in his cabin all day, his teacher by his +side, rehearsing from morning to night those compositions which he had +selected, whilst every few hours a Nubian slave massaged the Imperial +throat with oil and balsam, that it might be ready for the great ordeal +which lay before it in the land of poetry and song. His food, his +drink, and his exercise were prescribed for him as for an athlete who +trains for a contest, and the twanging of his lyre, with the strident +notes of his voice, resounded continually from the Imperial quarters. + +Now it chanced that there lived in those days a Grecian goatherd named +Policles, who tended and partly owned a great flock which grazed upon +the long flanks of the hills near Heroea, which is five miles north of +the river Alpheus, and no great distance from the famous Olympia. +This person was noted all over the countryside as a man of strange gifts +and singular character. He was a poet who had twice been crowned for +his verses, and he was a musician to whom the use and sound of an +instrument were so natural that one would more easily meet him without +his staff than his harp. Even in his lonely vigils on the winter hills +he would bear it always slung over his shoulder, and would pass the long +hours by its aid, so that it had come to be part of his very self. +He was beautiful also, swarthy and eager, with a head like Adonis, and +in strength there was no one who could compete with him. But all was +ruined by his disposition, which was so masterful that he would brook no +opposition nor contradiction. For this reason he was continually at +enmity with all his neighbours, and in his fits of temper he would spend +months at a time in his stone hut among the mountains, hearing nothing +from the world, and living only for his music and his goats. + +One spring morning, in the year of 67, Policles, with the aid of his boy +Dorus, had driven his goats over to a new pasturage which overlooked +from afar the town of Olympia. Gazing down upon it from the mountain, +the shepherd was surprised to see that a portion of the famous +amphitheatre had been roofed in, as though some performance was being +enacted. Living far from the world and from all news, Policles could +not imagine what was afoot, for he was well aware that the Grecian games +were not due for two years to come. Surely some poetic or musical +contest must be proceeding of which he had heard nothing. If so, there +would perhaps be some chance of his gaining the votes of the judges; and +in any case he loved to hear the compositions and admire the execution +of the great minstrels who assembled on such an occasion. Calling to +Dorus, therefore, he left the goats to his charge, and strode swiftly +away, his harp upon his back, to see what was going forward in the town. + +When Policles came into the suburbs, he found them deserted; but he was +still more surprised when he reached the main street to see no single +human being in the place. He hastened his steps, therefore, and as he +approached the theatre he was conscious of a low sustained hum which +announced the concourse of a huge assembly. Never in all his dreams +had he imagined any musical competition upon so vast a scale as this. +There were some soldiers clustering outside the door; but Policles +pushed his way swiftly through them, and found himself upon the +outskirts of the multitude who filled the great space formed by roofing +over a portion of the national stadium. Looking around him, Policles +saw a great number of his neighbours, whom he knew by sight, tightly +packed upon the benches, all with their eyes fixed upon the stage. +He also observed that there were soldiers round the walls, and that a +considerable part of the hall was filled by a body of youths of foreign +aspect, with white gowns and long hair. All this he perceived; but what +it meant he could not imagine. He bent over to a neighbour to ask him, +but a soldier prodded him at once with the butt end of his spear, and +commanded him fiercely to hold his peace. The man whom he had +addressed, thinking that Policles had demanded a seat, pressed closer to +his neighbour, and so the shepherd found himself sitting at the end of +the bench which was nearest to the door. Thence he concentrated himself +upon the stage, on which Metas, a well-known minstrel from Corinth and +an old friend of Policles, was singing and playing without much +encouragement from the audience. To Policles it seemed that Metas was +having less than his due, so he applauded loudly, but he was surprised +to observe that the soldiers frowned at him, and that all his neighbours +regarded him with some surprise. Being a man of strong and obstinate +character, he was the more inclined to persevere in his clapping when he +perceived that the general sentiment was against him. + +But what followed filled the shepherd poet with absolute amazement. +When Metas of Corinth had made his bow and withdrawn to half-hearted and +perfunctory applause, there appeared upon the stage, amid the wildest +enthusiasm upon the part of the audience, a most extraordinary figure. +He was a short fat man, neither old nor young, with a bull neck and a +round, heavy face, which hung in creases in front like the dewlap of an +ox. He was absurdly clad in a short blue tunic, braced at the waist +with a golden belt. His neck and part of his chest were exposed, and +his short, fat legs were bare from the buskins below to the middle of +his thighs, which was as far as his tunic extended. In his hair were +two golden wings, and the same upon his heels, after the fashion of the +god Mercury. Behind him walked a negro bearing a harp, and beside him a +richly dressed officer who bore rolls of music. This strange creature +took the harp from the hands of the attendant, and advanced to the front +of the stage, whence he bowed and smiled to the cheering audience." +This is some foppish singer from Athens," thought Policles to himself, +but at the same time he understood that only a great master of song +could receive such a reception from a Greek audience. This was +evidently some wonderful performer whose reputation had preceded him. +Policles settled down, therefore, and prepared to give his soul up to +the music. + +The blue-clad player struck several chords upon his lyre, and then burst +suddenly out into the "Ode of Niobe." Policles sat straight up on his +bench and gazed at the stage in amazement. The tune demanded a rapid +transition from a low note to a high, and had been purposely chosen for +this reason. The low note was a grunting, a rumble, the deep discordant +growling of an ill-conditioned dog. Then suddenly the singer threw up +his face, straightened his tubby figure, rose upon his tiptoes, and with +wagging head and scarlet cheeks emitted such a howl as the same dog +might have given had his growl been checked by a kick from his master. +All the while the lyre twanged and thrummed, sometimes in front of and +sometimes behind the voice of the singer. But what amazed Policles most +of all was the effect of this performance upon the audience. Every +Greek was a trained critic, and as unsparing in his hisses as he was +lavish in his applause. Many a singer far better than this absurd fop +had been driven amid execration and abuse from the platform. But now, +as the man stopped and wiped the abundant sweat from his fat face, the +whole assembly burst into a delirium of appreciation. The shepherd held +his hands to his bursting head, and felt that his reason must be leaving +him. It was surely a dreadful musical nightmare, and he would wake soon +and laugh at the remembrance. But no; the figures were real, the faces +were those of his neighbours, the cheers which resounded in his ears +were indeed from an audience which filled the theatre of Olympia. +The whole chorus was in full blast, the hummers humming, the shouters +bellowing, the tappers hard at work upon the benches, while every now +and then came a musical cyclone of "Incomparable! Divine!" from the +trained phalanx who intoned their applause, their united voices sweeping +over the tumult as the drone of the wind dominates the roar of the sea. +It was madness--insufferable madness! If this were allowed to pass, +there was an end of all musical justice in Greece. Policles' conscience +would not permit him to be still. Standing upon his bench with waving +hands and upraised voice, he protested with all the strength of his +lungs against the mad judgment of the audience. + +At first, amid the tumult, his action was hardly noticed. His voice was +drowned in the universal roar which broke out afresh at each bow and +smirk from the fatuous musician. But gradually the folk round Policles +ceased clapping, and stared at him in astonishment. The silence grew in +ever widening circles, until the whole great assembly sat mute, staring +at this wild and magnificent creature who was storming at them from his +perch near the door. + +"Fools!" he cried. "What are you clapping at? What are you cheering? +Is this what you call music? Is this cat-calling to earn an Olympian +prize? The fellow has not a note in his voice. You are either deaf or +mad, and I for one cry shame upon you for your folly." + +Soldiers ran to pull him down, and the whole audience was in confusion, +some of the bolder cheering the sentiments of the shepherd, and others +crying that he should be cast out of the building. Meanwhile the +successful singer having handed his lyre to his negro attendant, was +inquiring from those around him on the stage as to the cause of the +uproar. Finally a herald with an enormously powerful voice stepped +forward to the front and proclaimed that if the foolish person at the +back of the hall, who appeared to differ from the opinion of the rest of +the audience, would come forward upon the platform, he might, if he +dared, exhibit his own powers, and see if he could outdo the admirable +and wonderful exhibition which they had just had the privilege of +hearing. + +Policles sprang readily to his feet at the challenge, and the great +company making way for him to pass, he found himself a minute later +standing in his unkempt garb, with his frayed and weather-beaten harp +in his hand, before the expectant crowd. He stood for a moment +tightening a string here and slackening another there until his chords +rang true. Then, amid a murmur of laughter and jeers from the Roman +benches immediately before him, he began to sing. + +He had prepared no composition, but he had trained himself to improvise, +singing out of his heart for the joy of the music. He told of the land +of Elis, beloved of Jupiter, in which they were gathered that day, of +the great bare mountain slopes, of the swift shadows of the clouds, of +the winding blue river, of the keen air of the uplands, of the chill of +the evenings, and the beauties of earth and sky. It was all simple and +childlike, but it went to the hearts of the Olympians, for it spoke of +the land which they knew and loved. Yet when he at last dropped his +hand, few of them dared to applaud, and their feeble voices were drowned +by a storm of hisses and groans from his opponents. He shrank back in +horror from so unusual a reception, and in an instant his blue-clad +rival was in his place. If he had sung badly before, his performance +now was inconceivable. His screams, his grunts, his discords, and harsh +jarring cacophanies were an outrage to the very name of music. +And yet every time that he paused for breath or to wipe his streaming +forehead a fresh thunder of applause came rolling back from the +audience. Policles sank his face in his hands and prayed that he might +not be insane. Then, when the dreadful performance ceased, and the +uproar of admiration showed that the crown was certainly awarded to this +impostor, a horror of the audience, a hatred of this race of fools, and +a craving for the peace and silence of the pastures mastered every +feeling in his mind. He dashed through the mass of people waiting at +the wings, and emerged in the open air. His old rival and friend Metas +of Corinth was waiting there with an anxious face. + +"Quick, Policles, quick!" he cried. "My pony is tethered behind yonder +grove. A grey he is, with red trappings. Get you gone as hard as hoof +will bear you, for if you are taken you will have no easy death." + +"No easy death! What mean you, Metas? Who is the fellow?" + +"Great Jupiter! did you not know? Where have you lived? It is Nero the +Emperor! Never would he pardon what you have said about his voice. +Quick, man, quick, or the guards will be at your heels!" + +An hour later the shepherd was well on his way to his mountain home, and +about the same time the Emperor, having received the Chaplet of Olympia +for the incomparable excellence of his performance, was making inquiries +with a frowning brow as to who the insolent person might be who had +dared to utter such contemptuous criticisms. + +"Bring him to me here this instant," said he, "and let Marcus with his +knife and branding-iron be in attendance." + +"If it please you, great Caesar," said Arsenius Platus, the officer of +attendance, "the man cannot be found, and there are some very strange +rumours flying about." + +"Rumours!" cried the angry Nero. "What do you mean, Arsenius? I tell +you that the fellow was an ignorant upstart, with the bearing of a boor +and the voice of a peacock. I tell you also that there are a good many +who are as guilty as he among the people, for I heard them with my own +ears raise cheers for him when he had sung his ridiculous ode. I have +half a mind to burn their town about their ears so that they may +remember my visit." + +"It is not to be wondered at if he won their votes, Caesar," said the +soldier, "for from what I hear it would have been no disgrace had you, +even you, been conquered in this conquest." + +"I conquered! You are mad, Arsenius. What do you mean?" + +"None know him, great Caesar! He came from the mountains, and he +disappeared into the mountains. You marked the wildness and strange +beauty of his face. It is whispered that for once the great god Pan has +condescended to measure himself against a mortal." + +The cloud cleared from Nero's brow. "Of course, Arsenius! You are +right! No man would have dared to brave me so. What a story for Rome! +Let the messenger leave this very night, Arsenius, to tell them how +their Emperor has upheld their honour in Olympia this day." + + + +THROUGH THE VEIL. + + +He was a great shock-headed, freckle-faced Borderer, the lineal +descendant of a cattle-thieving clan in Liddesdale. In spite of his +ancestry he was as solid and sober a citizen as one would wish to see, +a town councillor of Melrose, an elder of the Church, and the chairman +of the local branch of the Young Men's Christian Association. Brown was +his name--and you saw it printed up as "Brown and Handiside" over the +great grocery stores in the High Street. His wife, Maggie Brown, was an +Armstrong before her marriage, and came from an old farming stock in the +wilds of Teviothead. She was small, swarthy, and dark-eyed, with a +strangely nervous temperament for a Scotch woman. No greater contrast +could be found than the big tawny man and the dark little woman; but +both were of the soil as far back as any memory could extend. + +One day--it was the first anniversary of their wedding--they had driven +over together to see the excavations of the Roman Fort at Newstead. +It was not a particularly picturesque spot. From the northern bank of +the Tweed, just where the river forms a loop, there extends a gentle +slope of arable land. Across it run the trenches of the excavators, +with here and there an exposure of old stonework to show the foundations +of the ancient walls. It had been a huge place, for the camp was fifty +acres in extent, and the fort fifteen. However, it was all made easy +for them since Mr. Brown knew the farmer to whom the land belonged. +Under his guidance they spent a long summer evening inspecting the +trenches, the pits, the ramparts, and all the strange variety of objects +which were waiting to be transported to the Edinburgh Museum of +Antiquities. The buckle of a woman's belt had been dug up that very +day, and the farmer was discoursing upon it when his eyes fell upon Mrs. +Brown's face. + +"Your good leddy's tired," said he. "Maybe you'd best rest a wee before +we gang further." + +Brown looked at his wife. She was certainly very pale, and her dark +eyes were bright and wild. + +"What is it, Maggie? I've wearied you. I'm thinkin' it's time we went +back." + +"No, no, John, let us go on. It's wonderful! It's like a dreamland +place. It all seems so close and so near to me. How long were the +Romans here, Mr. Cunningham?" + +"A fair time, mam. If you saw the kitchen midden-pits you would guess +it took a long time to fill them." + +"And why did they leave?" + +"Well, mam, by all accounts they left because they had to. The folk +round could thole them no longer, so they just up and burned the fort +aboot their lugs. You can see the fire marks on the stanes." + +The woman gave a quick little shudder. "A wild night--a fearsome +night," said she. "The sky must have been red that night--and these +grey stones, they may have been red also." + +"Aye, I think they were red," said her husband. "It's a queer thing, +Maggie, and it may be your words that have done it; but I seem to see +that business aboot as clear as ever I saw anything in my life. +The light shone on the water." + +"Aye, the light shone on the water. And the smoke gripped you by the +throat. And all the savages were yelling." + +The old farmer began to laugh. "The leddy will be writin' a story aboot +the old fort," said he. "I've shown many a one over it, but I never +heard it put so clear afore. Some folk have the gift." + +They had strolled along the edge of the foss, and a pit yawned upon the +right of them. + +"That pit was fourteen foot deep," said the farmer. "What d'ye think we +dug oot from the bottom o't? Weel, it was just the skeleton of a man +wi' a spear by his side. I'm thinkin' he was grippin' it when he died. +Now, how cam' a man wi' a spear doon a hole fourteen foot deep? +He wasna' buried there, for they aye burned their dead. What make ye o' +that, mam?" + +"He sprang doon to get clear of the savages," said the woman. + +"Weel, it's likely enough, and a' the professors from Edinburgh couldna +gie a better reason. I wish you were aye here, mam, to answer a' oor +difficulties sae readily. Now, here's the altar that we foond last +week. There's an inscreeption. They tell me it's Latin, and it means +that the men o' this fort give thanks to God for their safety." + +They examined the old worn stone. There was a large deeply-cut "VV" +upon the top of it. "What does 'VV' stand for?" asked Brown. + +"Naebody kens," the guide answered. + +"_Valeria Victrix_," said the lady softly. Her face was paler than +ever, her eyes far away, as one who peers down the dim aisles of +overarching centuries. + +"What's that?" asked her husband sharply. + +She started as one who wakes from sleep. "What were we talking about?" +she asked. + +"About this 'VV' upon the stone." + +"No doubt it was just the name of the Legion which put the altar up." + +"Aye, but you gave some special name." + +"Did I? How absurd! How should I ken what the name was?" + +"You said something--'_Victrix_,' I think." + +"I suppose I was guessing. It gives me the queerest feeling, this +place, as if I were not myself, but someone else." + +"Aye, it's an uncanny place," said her husband, looking round with an +expression almost of fear in his bold grey eyes. "I feel it mysel'. +I think we'll just be wishin' you good evenin', Mr. Cunningham, +and get back to Melrose before the dark sets in." + +Neither of them could shake off the strange impression which had been +left upon them by their visit to the excavations. It was as if some +miasma had risen from those damp trenches and passed into their blood. +All the evening they were silent and thoughtful, but such remarks as +they did make showed that the same subject was in the minds of each. +Brown had a restless night, in which he dreamed a strange connected +dream, so vivid that he woke sweating and shivering like a frightened +horse. He tried to convey it all to his wife as they sat together at +breakfast in the morning. + +"It was the clearest thing, Maggie," said he. "Nothing that has ever +come to me in my waking life has been more clear than that. I feel as +if these hands were sticky with blood." + +"Tell me of it--tell me slow," said she. + +"When it began, I was oot on a braeside. I was laying flat on the +ground. It was rough, and there were clumps of heather. All round me +was just darkness, but I could hear the rustle and the breathin' of men. +There seemed a great multitude on every side of me, but I could see no +one. There was a low chink of steel sometimes, and then a number of +voices would whisper 'Hush!' I had a ragged club in my hand, and it had +spikes o' iron near the end of it. My heart was beatin' quickly, and I +felt that a moment of great danger and excitement was at hand. +Once I dropped my club, and again from all round me the voices in the +darkness cried, 'Hush!' I put oot my hand, and it touched the foot of +another man lying in front of me. There was some one at my very elbow +on either side. But they said nothin'. + +"Then we all began to move. The whole braeside seemed to be crawlin' +downwards. There was a river at the bottom and a high-arched wooden +bridge. Beyond the bridge were many lights--torches on a wall. +The creepin' men all flowed towards the bridge. There had been no sound +of any kind, just a velvet stillness. And then there was a cry in the +darkness, the cry of a man who has been stabbed suddenly to the hairt. +That one cry swelled out for a moment, and then the roar of a thoosand +furious voices. I was runnin'. Every one was runnin'. A bright red +light shone out, and the river was a scarlet streak. I could see my +companions now. They were more like devils than men, wild figures clad +in skins, with their hair and beards streamin'. They were all mad +with rage, jumpin' as they ran, their mouths open, their arms wavin', +the red light beatin' on their faces. I ran, too, and yelled out curses +like the rest. Then I heard a great cracklin' of wood, and I knew that +the palisades were doon. There was a loud whistlin' in my ears, and I +was aware that arrows were flyin' past me. I got to the bottom of a +dyke, and I saw a hand stretched doon from above. I took it, and was +dragged to the top. We looked doon, and there were silver men beneath +us holdin' up their spears. Some of our folk sprang on to the spears. +Then we others followed, and we killed the soldiers before they +could draw the spears oot again. They shouted loud in some foreign +tongue, but no mercy was shown them. We went ower them like a wave, and +trampled them doon into the mud, for they were few, and there was no end +to our numbers. + +"I found myself among buildings, and one of them was on fire. I saw the +flames spoutin' through the roof. I ran on, and then I was alone among +the buildings. Some one ran across in front o' me. It was a woman. +I caught her by the arm, and I took her chin and turned her face so as +the light of the fire would strike it. Whom think you that it was, +Maggie?" + +His wife moistened her dry lips. "It was I," she said. + +He looked at her in surprise. "That's a good guess," said he. "Yes, it +was just you. Not merely like you, you understand. It was you--you +yourself. I saw the same soul in your frightened eyes. You looked +white and bonny and wonderful in the firelight. I had just one thought +in my head--to get you awa' with me; to keep you all to mysel' in my own +home somewhere beyond the hills. You clawed at my face with your nails. +I heaved you over my shoulder, and I tried to find a way oot of the +light of the burning hoose and back into the darkness. + +"Then came the thing that I mind best of all. You're ill, Maggie. +Shall I stop? My God! You nave the very look on your face that you had +last night in my dream. You screamed. He came runnin' in the +firelight. His head was bare; his hair was black and curled; he had a +naked sword in his hand, short and broad, little more than a dagger. +He stabbed at me, but he tripped and fell. I held you with one hand, +and with the other--" + +His wife had sprung to her feet with writhing features. + +"Marcus!" she cried. "My beautiful Marcus! Oh, you brute! you brute! +you brute!" There was a clatter of tea-cups as she fell forward +senseless upon the table. + +They never talk about that strange isolated incident in their married +life. For an instant the curtain of the past had swung aside, and some +strange glimpse of a forgotten life had come to them. But it closed +down, never to open again. They live their narrow round--he in his +shop, she in her household--and yet new and wider horizons have vaguely +formed themselves around them since that summer evening by the crumbling +Roman fort. + + + +AN ICONOCLAST. + + +It was daybreak of a March morning in the year of Christ 92. Outside +the long Semita Alta was already thronged with people, with buyers and +sellers, callers and strollers, for the Romans were so early-rising a +people that many a Patrician preferred to see his clients at six in the +morning. Such was the good republican tradition, still upheld by the +more conservative; but with more modern habits of luxury, a night of +pleasure and banqueting was no uncommon thing. Thus one, who had +learned the new and yet adhered to the old, might find his hours +overlap, and without so much as a pretence of sleep come straight from +his night of debauch into his day of business, turning with heavy wits +and an aching head to that round of formal duties which consumed the +life of a Roman gentleman. + +So it was with Emilius Flaccus that March morning. He and his fellow +senator, Caius Balbus, had passed the night in one of those gloomy +drinking bouts to which the Emperor Domitian summoned his chosen friends +at the high palace on the Palatine. Now, having reached the portals of +the house of Flaccus, they stood together under the pomegranate-fringed +portico which fronted the peristyle and, confident in each other's tried +discretion, made up by the freedom of their criticism for their long +self-suppression of that melancholy feast. + +"If he would but feed his guests," said Balbus, a little red-faced, +choleric nobleman with yellow-shot angry eyes. "What had we? Upon my +life, I have forgotten. Plovers' eggs, a mess of fish, some bird or +other, and then his eternal apples." + +"Of which," said Flaccus, "he ate only the apples. Do him the justice +to confess that he takes even less than he gives. At least they cannot +say of him as of Vitellius, that his teeth beggared the empire." + +"No, nor his thirst either, great as it is. That fiery Sabine wine of +his could be had for a few sesterces the amphora. It is the common +drink of the carters at every wine-house on the country roads. I longed +for a glass of my own rich Falernian or the mellow Coan that was bottled +in the year that Titus took Jerusalem. Is it even now too late? +Could we not wash this rasping stuff from our palates?" + +"Nay, better come in with me now and take a bitter draught ere you go +upon your way. My Greek physician Stephanos has a rare prescription +for a morning head. What! Your clients await you? Well, I will see +you later at the Senate house." + +The Patrician had entered his atrium, bright with rare flowers, and +melodious with strange singing birds. At the jaws of the hall, true to +his morning duties, stood Lebs, the little Nubian slave, with snow-white +tunic and turban, a salver of glasses in one hand, whilst in the other +he held a flask of a thin lemon-tinted liquid. The master of the house +filled up a bitter aromatic bumper, and was about to drink it off, when +his hand was arrested by a sudden perception that something was much +amiss in his household. It was to be read all around him--in the +frightened eyes of the black boy, in the agitated face of the keeper of +the atrium, in the gloom and silence of the little knot of ordinarii, +the procurator or major-domo at their head, who had assembled to greet +their master. Stephanos the physician, Cleios the Alexandrine reader, +Promus the steward each turned his head away to avoid his master's +questioning gaze. + +"What in the name of Pluto is the matter with you all?" cried the amazed +senator, whose night of potations had left him in no mood for patience. +"Why do you stand moping there? Stephanos, Vacculus--is anything amiss? +Here, Promus, you are the head of my household. What is it, then? +Why do you turn your eyes away from me?" + +The burly steward, whose fat face was haggard and mottled with anxiety, +laid his hand upon the sleeve of the domestic beside him. + +"Sergius is responsible for the atrium, my lord. It is for him to tell +you the terrible thing that has befallen in your absence." + +"Nay, it was Datus who did it. Bring him in, and let him explain it +himself," said Sergius in a sulky voice. + +The patience of the Patrician was at an end. "Speak this instant, you +rascal!" he shouted angrily. "Another minute, and I will have you +dragged to the ergastulum, where, with your feet in the stocks and the +gyves round your wrists, you may learn quicker obedience. Speak, I say, +and without delay." + +"It is the Venus," the man stammered; "the Greek Venus of Praxiteles." + +The senator gave a cry of apprehension and rushed to the corner of the +atrium, where a little shrine, curtained off by silken drapery, held the +precious statue, the greatest art treasure of his collection--perhaps of +the whole world. He tore the hangings aside and stood in speechless +anger before the outraged goddess. The red perfumed lamp which always +burned before her had been spilled and broken; her altar fire had been +quenched, her chaplet had been dashed aside. But worst of all-- +insufferable sacrilege!--her own beautiful nude body of glistening +Pantelic marble, as white and fair as when the inspired Greek had hewed +it out five hundred years before, had been most brutally mishandled. +Three fingers of the gracious outstretched hand had been struck off, and +lay upon the pedestal beside her. Above her delicate breast a dark mark +showed, where a blow had disfigured the marble. Emilius Flaccus, +the most delicate and judicious connoisseur in Rome, stood gasping and +croaking, his hand to his throat, as he gazed at his disfigured +masterpiece. Then he turned upon his slaves, his fury in his convulsed +face; but, to his amazement, they were not looking at him, but had all +turned in attitudes of deep respect towards the opening of the +peristyle. As he faced round and saw who had just entered his house, +his own rage fell away from him in an instant, and his manner became as +humble as that of his servants. + +The newcomer was a man forty-three years of age, clean shaven, with a +massive head, large engorged eyes, a small clear-cut nose, and the full +bull neck which was the especial mark of his breed. He had entered +through the peristyle with a swaggering, rolling gait, as one who walks +upon his own ground, and now he stood, his hands upon his hips, looking +round him at the bowing slaves, and finally at their master, with a +half-humorous expression upon his flushed and brutal face. + +"Why, Emilius," said he, "I had understood that your household was the +best-ordered in Rome. What is amiss with you this morning?" + +"Nothing could be amiss with us now that Caesar has deigned to come +under my roof," said the courtier. "This is indeed a most glad surprise +which you have prepared for me." + +"It was an afterthought," said Domitian. "When you and the others had +left me, I was in no mood for sleep, and so it came into my mind that I +would have a breath of morning air by coming down to you, and seeing +this Grecian Venus of yours, about which you discoursed so eloquently +between the cups. But, indeed, by your appearance and that of your +servants, I should judge that my visit was an ill-timed one." + +"Nay, dear master; say not so. But, indeed, it is truth that I was in +trouble at the moment of your welcome entrance, and this trouble was, as +the Fates have willed it, brought forth by that very statue in which you +have been graciously pleased to show your interest. There it stands, +and you can see for yourself how rudely it has been mishandled." + +"By Pluto and all the nether gods, if it were mine some of you should +feed the lampreys," said the Emperor, looking round with his fierce eyes +at the shrinking slaves. "You were always overmerciful, Emilius. +It is the common talk that your catenoe are rusted for want of use. +But surely this is beyond all bounds. Let me see how you handle the +matter. Whom do you hold responsible?" + +"The slave Sergius is responsible, since it is his place to tend the +atrium," said Flaccus. "Stand forward, Sergius. What have you to say?" + +The trembling slave advanced to his master. "If it please you, sir, the +mischief has been done by Datus the Christian." + +"Datus! Who is he?" + +"The matulator, the scavenger, my lord. I did not know that he belonged +to these horrible people, or I should not have admitted him. He came +with his broom to brush out the litter of the birds. His eyes fell upon +the Venus, and in an instant he had rushed upon her and struck her two +blows with his wooden besom. Then we fell upon him and dragged him +away. But alas! alas! it was too late, for already the wretch had +dashed off the fingers of the goddess." + +The Emperor smiled grimly, while the Patrician's thin face grew pale +with anger. + +"Where is the fellow?" he asked. + +"In the ergastulum, your honour, with the furca on his neck." + +"Bring him hither and summon the household." + +A few minutes later the whole back of the atrium was thronged by the +motley crowd who ministered to the household needs of a great Roman +nobleman. There was the arcarius, or account keeper, with his stylum +behind his ear; the sleek praegustator, who sampled all foods, so as to +stand between his master and poison, and beside him his predecessor, now +a half-witted idiot through the interception twenty years before of a +datura draught from Canidia; the cellarman, summoned from amongst his +amphorae; the cook, with his basting-ladle in his hand; the pompous +nomenclator, who ushered the guests; the cubicularius, who saw to their +accommodation; the silentiarius, who kept order in the house; the +structor, who set forth the tables; the carptor, who carved the food; +the cinerarius, who lit the fires--these and many more, half-curious, +half-terrified, came to the judging of Datus. Behind them a chattering, +giggling swarm of Lalages, Marias, Cerusas, and Amaryllides, from the +laundries and the spinning-rooms, stood upon their tiptoes and extended +their pretty wondering faces over the shoulders of the men. Through +this crowd came two stout varlets leading the culprit between them. +He was a small, dark, rough-headed man, with an unkempt beard and wild +eyes which shone, brightly with strong inward emotion. His hands were +bound behind him, and over his neck was the heavy wooden collar or furca +which was placed upon refractory slaves. A smear of blood across his +cheek showed that he had not come uninjured from the preceding scuffle. + +"Are you Datus the scavenger?" asked the Patrician. + +The man drew himself up proudly. "Yes," said he, "I am Datus." + +"Did you do this injury to my statue?" + +"Yes, I did." + +There was an uncompromising boldness in the man's reply which compelled +respect. The wrath of his master became tinged with interest. + +"Why did you do this?" he asked. + +"Because it was my duty." + +"Why, then, was it your duty to destroy your master's property?" + +"Because I am a Christian." His eyes blazed suddenly out of his dark +face. "Because there is no God but the one eternal, and all else are +sticks and stones. What has this naked harlot to do with Him to whom +the great firmament is but a garment and the earth a footstool? +It was in His service that I have broken your statue." + +Domitian looked with a smile at the Patrician. "You will make nothing +of him," said he. "They speak even so when they stand before the lions +in the arena. As to argument, not all the philosophers of Rome can +break them down. Before my very face they refuse to sacrifice in my +honour. Never were such impossible people to deal with. I should take +a short way with him if I were you." + +"What would Caesar advise?" + +"There are the games this afternoon. I am showing the new +hunting-leopard which King Juba has sent from Numidia. This slave may +give us some sport when he finds the hungry beast sniffing at his +heels." + +The Patrician considered for a moment. He had always been a father to +his servants. It was hateful to him to think of any injury befalling +them. Perhaps even now, if this strange fanatic would show his sorrow +for what he had done, it might be possible to spare him. At least it +was worth trying. + +"Your offence deserves death," he said. "What reasons can you give why +it should not befall you, since you have injured this statue, which is +worth your own price a hundred times over?" + +The slave looked steadfastly at his master. "I do not fear death," he +said. "My sister Candida died in the arena, and I am ready to do the +same. It is true that I have injured your statue, but I am able to find +you something of far greater value in exchange. I will give you the +truth and the gospel in exchange for your broken idol." + +The Emperor laughed. "You will do nothing with him, Emilius," he said. +"I know his breed of old. He is ready to die; he says so himself. +Why save him, then?" + +But the Patrician still hesitated. He would make a last effort. + +"Throw off his bonds," he said to the guards. "Now take the furca off +his neck. So! Now, Datus, I have released you to show you that I trust +you. I have no wish to do you any hurt if you will but acknowledge your +error, and so set a better example to my household here assembled." + +"How, then, shall I acknowledge my error?" the slave asked. + +"Bow your head before the goddess, and entreat her forgiveness for the +violence you have done her. Then perhaps you may gain my pardon as +well." + +"Put me, then, before her," said the Christian. + +Emilius Flaccus looked triumphantly at Domitian. By kindness and tact +he was effecting that which the Emperor had failed to do by violence. +Datus walked in front of the mutilated Venus. Then with a sudden spring +he tore the baton out of the hand of one of his guardians, leaped upon +the pedestal, and showered his blows upon the lovely marble woman. +With a crack and a dull thud her right arm dropped to the ground. +Another fierce blow and the left had followed. Flaccus danced and +screamed with horror, while his servants dragged the raving iconoclast +from his impassive victim. Domitian's brutal laughter echoed through +the hall. + +"Well, friend, what think you now?" he cried. "Are you wiser than your +Emperor? Can you indeed tame your Christian with kindness?" + +Emilius Flaccus wiped the sweat from his brow. "He is yours, great +Caesar. Do with him as you will." + +"Let him be at the gladiators' entrance of the circus an hour before the +games begin," said the Emperor. "Now, Emilius, the night has been a +merry one. My Ligurian galley waits by the river quay. Come, cool your +head with a spin to Ostia ere the business of State calls you to the +Senate." + + + +GIANT MAXIMIN. + + + +I THE COMING OF MAXIMIN + + +Many are the strange vicissitudes of history. Greatness has often sunk +to the dust, and has tempered itself to its new surrounding. +Smallness has risen aloft, has flourished for a time, and then has sunk +once more. Rich monarchs have become poor monks, brave conquerors have +lost their manhood, eunuchs and women have overthrown armies and +kingdoms. Surely there is no situation which the mind of man can invent +which has not taken shape and been played out upon the world stage. +But of all the strange careers and of all the wondrous happenings, +stranger than Charles in his monastery, or Justin on his throne, there +stands the case of Giant Maximin, what he attained, and how he attained +it. Let me tell the sober facts of history, tinged only by that +colouring to which the more austere historians could not condescend. +It is a record as well as a story. + +In the heart of Thrace some ten miles north of the Rhodope mountains, +there is a valley which is named Harpessus, after the stream which runs +down it. Through this valley lies the main road from the east to the +west, and along the road, returning from an expedition against the +Alani, there marched, upon the fifth day of the month of June in the +year 210, a small but compact Roman army. It consisted of three +legions--the Jovian, the Cappadocian, and the men of Hercules. +Ten turmae of Gallic cavalry led the van, whilst the rear was covered by +a regiment of Batavian Horse Guards, the immediate attendants of the +Emperor Septimus Severus who had conducted the campaign in person. +The peasants who lined the low hills which fringed the valley looked +with indifference upon the long files of dusty, heavily-burdened +infantry, but they broke into murmurs of delight at the gold-faced +cuirasses and high brazen horse-hair helmets of the guardsmen, +applauding their stalwart figures, their martial bearing, and the +stately black chargers which they rode. A soldier might know that it +was the little weary men with their short swords, their heavy pikes over +their shoulders, and their square shields slung upon their backs, who +were the real terror of the enemies of the Empire, but to the eyes of +the wondering Thracians it was this troop of glittering Apollos who bore +Rome's victory upon their banners, and upheld the throne of the +purple-togaed prince who rode before them. + +Among the scattered groups of peasants who looked on from a respectful +distance at this military pageant, there were two men who attracted much +attention from those who stood immediately around them. The one was +commonplace enough--a little grey-headed man, with uncouth dress and a +frame which was bent and warped by a long life of arduous toil, +goat-driving and wood-chopping among the mountains. It was the +appearance of his youthful companion which had drawn the amazed +observation of the bystanders. In stature he was such a giant as is +seen but once or twice in each generation of mankind. Eight feet and +two inches was his measure from his sandalled sole to the topmost curls +of his tangled hair. Yet for all his mighty stature there was nothing +heavy or clumsy in the man. His huge shoulders bore no redundant flesh, +and his figure was straight and hard and supple as a young pine tree. +A frayed suit of brown leather clung close to his giant body, and a +cloak of undressed sheep-skin was slung from his shoulder. His bold +blue eyes, shock of yellow hair and fair skin showed that he was of +Gothic or northern blood, and the amazed expression upon his broad frank +face as he stared at the passing troops told of a simple and uneventful +life in some back valley of the Macedonian mountains. + +"I fear your mother was right when she advised that we keep you at +home," said the old man anxiously. "Tree-cutting and wood-carrying will +seem but dull work after such a sight as this." + +"When I see mother next it will be to put a golden torque round her +neck," said the young giant. "And you, daddy; I will fill your leather +pouch with gold pieces before I have done." + +The old man looked at his son with startled eyes. "You would not leave +us, Theckla! What could we do without you?" + +"My place is down among yonder men," said the young man. "I was not +born to drive goats and carry logs, but to sell this manhood of mine in +the best market. There is my market in the Emperor's own Guard. +Say nothing, daddy, for my mind is set, and if you weep now it will be +to laugh hereafter. I will to great Rome with the soldiers." + +The daily march of the heavily laden Roman legionary was fixed at twenty +miles; but on this afternoon, though only half the distance had been +accomplished, the silver trumpets blared out their welcome news that a +camp was to be formed. As the men broke their ranks, the reason of +their light march was announced by the decurions. It was the birthday +of Geta, the younger son of the Emperor, and in his honour there would +be games and a double ration of wine. But the iron discipline of the +Roman army required that under all circumstances certain duties should +be performed, and foremost among them that the camp should be made +secure. Laying down their arms in the order of their ranks, the +soldiers seized their spades and axes, and worked rapidly and joyously +until sloping vallum and gaping fossa girdled them round, and gave them +safe refuge against a night attack. Then in noisy, laughing, +gesticulating crowds they gathered in their thousands round the grassy +arena where the sports were to be held. A long green hillside sloped +down to a level plain, and on this gentle incline the army lay watching +the strife of the chosen athletes who contended before them. They +stretched themselves in the glare of the sunshine, their heavy tunics +thrown off, and their naked limbs sprawling, wine-cups an baskets of +fruit and cakes circling amongst them, enjoying rest and peace as only +those can to whom it comes so rarely. + +The five-mile race was over, and had been won as usual by Decurion +Brennus, the crack long-distance champion of the Herculians. Amid the +yells of the Jovians, Capellus of the corps had carried off both the +long and the high jump. Big Brebix the Gaul had out-thrown the long +guardsman Serenus with the fifty pound stone. Now, as the sun sank +towards the western ridge, and turned the Harpessus to a riband of gold, +they had come to the final of the wrestling, where the pliant Greek, +whose name is lost in the nickname of "Python," was tried out against +the bull-necked Lictor of the military police, a hairy Hercules, whose +heavy hand had in the way of duty oppressed many of the spectators. + +As the two men, stripped save for their loin-cloths, approached the +wrestling-ring, cheers and counter-cheers burst from their adherents, +some favouring the Lictor for his Roman blood, some the Greek from +their own private grudge. And then, of a sudden, the cheering died, +heads were turned towards the slope away from the arena, men stood up +and peered and pointed, until finally, in a strange hush, the whole +great assembly had forgotten the athletes, and were watching a single +man walking swiftly towards them down the green curve of the hill. +This huge solitary figure, with the oaken club in his hand, the +shaggy fleece flapping from his great shoulders, and the setting sun +gleaming upon a halo of golden hair, might have been the tutelary god of +the fierce and barren mountains from which he had issued. Even the +Emperor rose from his chair and gazed with open-eyed amazement at the +extraordinary being who approached him. + +The man, whom we already know as Theckla the Thracian, paid no heed to +the attention which he had aroused, but strode onwards, stepping as +lightly as a deer, until he reached the fringe of the soldiers. +Amid their open ranks he picked his way, sprang over the ropes which +guarded the arena, and advanced towards the Emperor, until a spear at +his breast warned him that he must go no nearer. Then he sunk upon his +right knee and called out some words in the Gothic speech. + +"Great Jupiter! Whoever saw such a body of a man!" cried the Emperor. +"What says he? What is amiss with the fellow? Whence comes he, and +what is his name?" + +An interpreter translated the Barbarian's answer. "He says, great +Caesar, that he is of good blood, and sprung by a Gothic father from a +woman of the Alani. He says that his name is Theckla, and that he would +fain carry a sword in Caesar's service." + +The Emperor smiled. "Some post could surely be found for such a man, +were it but as janitor at the Palatine Palace," said he to one of the +Prefects. "I would fain see him walk even as he is through the forum. +He would turn the heads of half the women in Rome. Talk to him, +Crassus. You know his speech." + +The Roman officer turned to the giant. "Caesar says that you are to +come with him, and he will make you the servant at his door." + +The Barbarian rose, and his fair cheeks flushed with resentment. + +"I will serve Caesar as a soldier," said he, "but I will be +house-servant to no man-not even to him. If Caesar would see what +manner of man I am, let him put one of his guardsmen up against me." + +"By the shade of Milo this is a bold fellow!" cried the Emperor. +"How say you, Crassus? Shall he make good his words?" + +"By your leave, Caesar," said the blunt soldier, "good swordsmen are too +rare in these days that we should let them slay each other for sport. +Perhaps if the Barbarian would wrestle a fall--" + +"Excellent!" cried the Emperor. "Here is the Python, and here Varus the +Lictor, each stripped for the bout. Have a look at them, Barbarian, and +see which you would choose. What does he say? He would take them both? +Nay then he is either the king of wrestlers or the king of boasters, and +we shall soon see which. Let him have his way, and he has himself to +thank if he comes out with a broken neck." + +There was some laughter when the peasant tossed his sheep-skin mantle to +the ground and, without troubling to remove his leathern tunic, advanced +towards the two wrestlers; but it became uproarious when with a quick +spring he seized the Greek under one arm and the Roman under the other, +holding them as in a vice. Then with a terrific effort he tore them +both from the ground, carried them writhing and kicking round the arena, +and finally walking up to the Emperor's throne, threw his two athletes +down in front of him. Then, bowing to Caesar, the huge Barbarian +withdrew, and laid his great bulk down among the ranks of the applauding +soldiers, whence he watched with stolid unconcern the conclusion of the +sports. + +It was still daylight, when the last event had been decided, and the +soldiers returned to the camp. The Emperor Severus had ordered his +horse, and in the company of Crassus, his favourite prefect, rode down +the winding pathway which skirts the Harpessus, chatting over the future +dispersal of the army. They had ridden for some miles when Severus, +glancing behind him, was surprised to see a huge figure which trotted +lightly along at the very heels of his horse. + +"Surely this is Mercury as well as Hercules that we have found among the +Thracian mountains," said he with a smile. "Let us see how soon our +Syrian horses can out-distance him." + +The two Romans broke into a gallop, and did not draw rein until a good +mile had been covered at the full pace of their splendid chargers. +Then they turned and looked back; but there, some distance off, still +running with a lightness and a spring which spoke of iron muscles and +inexhaustible endurance, came the great Barbarian. The Roman Emperor +waited until the athlete had come up to them. + +"Why do you follow me?" he asked. "It is my hope, Caesar, that I may +always follow you." His flushed face as he spoke was almost level with +that of the mounted Roman. + +"By the god of war, I do not know where in all the world I could find +such a servant!" cried the Emperor. "You shall be my own body-guard, +the one nearest to me of all." + +The giant fell upon his knee. "My life and strength are yours," he +said. "I ask no more than to spend them for Caesar." + +Crassus had interpreted this short dialogue. He now turned to the +Emperor. + +"If he is indeed to be always at your call, Caesar, it would be well to +give the poor Barbarian some name which your lips can frame. Theckla is +as uncouth and craggy a word as one of his native rocks." + +The Emperor pondered for a moment. "If I am to have the naming of him," +said he, "then surely I shall call him Maximus, for there is not such a +giant upon earth." + +"Hark you," said the Prefect. "The Emperor has deigned to give you a +Roman name, since you have come into his service. Henceforth you are +no longer Theckla, but you are Maximus. Can you say it after me?" + +"Maximin," repeated the Barbarian, trying to catch the Roman word. + +The Emperor laughed at the mincing accent. "Yes, yes, Maximin let it +be. To all the world you are Maximin, the body-guard of Severus. +When we have reached Rome, we will soon see that your dress shall +correspond with your office. Meanwhile march with the guard until you +have my further orders." + +So it came about that as the Roman army resumed its march next day, and +left behind it the fair valley of the Harpessus, a huge recruit, clad in +brown leather, with a rude sheep-skin floating from his shoulders, +marched beside the Imperial troop. But far away in the wooden farmhouse +of a distant Macedonian valley two old country folk wept salt tears, and +prayed to the gods for the safety of their boy who had turned his face +to Rome. + + + +II THE RISE OF GIANT MAXIMIN + + +Exactly twenty-five years had passed since the day that Theckla the huge +Thracian peasant had turned into Maximin the Roman guardsman. They had +not been good years for Rome. Gone for ever were the great Imperial +days of the Hadrians and the Trajans. Gone also the golden age of the +two Antonines, when the highest were for once the most worthy and most +wise. It had been an epoch of weak and cruel men. Severus, the swarthy +African, a stark grim man, had died in far away York, after fighting all +the winter with the Caledonian Highlanders--a race who have ever since +worn the martial garb of the Romans. His son, known only by his +slighting nick-name of Caracalla, had reigned during six years of insane +lust and cruelty, before the knife of an angry soldier avenged the +dignity of the Roman name. The nonentity Macrinus had filled the +dangerous throne for a single year before he also met a bloody end, and +made room for the most grotesque of all monarchs, the unspeakable +Heliogabalus with his foul mind and his painted face. He in turn was +cut to pieces by the soldiers, and Severus Alexander, a gentle youth, +scarce seventeen years of age, had been thrust into his place. +For thirteen years now he had ruled, striving with some success to put +some virtue and stability into the rotting Empire, but raising many +fierce enemies as he did so-enemies whom he had not the strength nor the +wit to hold in check. + +And Giant Maximin--what of him? He had carried his eight feet of +manhood through the lowlands of Scotland, and the passes of the +Grampians. He had seen Severus pass away, and had soldiered with his +son. He had fought in Armenia, in Dacia, and in Germany. They had made +him a centurion upon the field when with his hands he plucked out one by +one the stockades of a northern village, and so cleared a path for the +stormers. His strength had been the jest and the admiration of the +soldiers. Legends about him had spread through the army and were the +common gossip round the camp fires--of his duel with the German axeman +on the Island of the Rhine, and of the blow with his fist which broke +the leg of a Scythian's horse. Gradually he had won his way upwards, +until now, after quarter of a century's service he was tribune of the +fourth legion and superintendent of recruits for the whole army. +The young soldier who had come under the glare of Maximin's eyes, or had +been lifted up with one huge hand while he was cuffed by the other, +had his first lesson from him in the discipline of the service. + +It was nightfall in the camp of the fourth legion upon the Gallic shore +of the Rhine. Across the moonlit water, amid the thick forests which +stretched away to the dim horizon, lay the wild untamed German tribes. +Down on the river bank the light gleamed upon the helmets of the Roman +sentinels who kept guard along the river. Far away a red point rose and +fell in the darkness--a watch-fire of the enemy upon the further shore. + +Outside his tent, beside some smouldering logs, Giant Maximin was +seated, a dozen of his officers around him. He had changed much since +the day when we first met him in the Valley of the Harpessus. His huge +frame was as erect as ever, and there was no sign of diminution of his +strength. But he had aged none the less. The yellow tangle of hair was +gone, worn down by the ever-pressing helmet. The fresh young face was +drawn and hardened, with austere lines wrought by trouble and privation. +The nose was more hawk-like, the eyes more cunning, the expression more +cynical and more sinister. In his youth, a child would have run to his +arms. Now it would shrink screaming from his gaze. That was what +twenty-five years with the eagles had done for Theckla the Thracian +peasant. + +He was listening now--for he was a man of few words--to the chatter of +his centurions. One of them, Balbus the Sicilian, had been to the main +camp at Mainz, only four miles away, and had seen the Emperor Alexander +arrive that very day from Rome. The rest were eager at the news, for it +was a time of unrest, and the rumour of great changes was in the air. + +"How many had he with him?" asked Labienus, a black-browed veteran from +the south of Gaul. "I'll wager a month's pay that he was not so +trustful as to come alone among his faithful legions." + +"He had no great force," replied Balbus. "Ten or twelve cohorts of the +Praetorians and a handful of horse." + +"Then indeed his head is in the lion's mouth," cried Sulpicius, a +hot-headed youth from the African Pentapolis. "How was he received?" + +"Coldly enough. There was scarce a shout as he came down the line." + +"They are ripe for mischief," said Labienus. "And who can wonder, when +it is we soldiers who uphold the Empire upon our spears, while the lazy +citizens at Rome reap all of our sowing. Why cannot a soldier have what +a soldier gains? So long as they throw us our denarius a day, they +think that they have done with us." + +"Aye," croaked a grumbling old greybeard. "Our limbs, our blood, our +lives--what do they care so long as the Barbarians are held off, and +they are left in peace to their feastings and their circus? Free bread, +free wine, free games--everything for the loafer at Rome. For us the +frontier guard and a soldier's fare." + +Maximin gave a deep laugh. "Old Plancus talks like that," said he; "but +we know that for all the world he would not change his steel plate for a +citizen's gown. You've earned the kennel, old hound, if you wish it. +Go and gnaw your bone and growl in peace." + +"Nay, I am too old for change. I will follow the eagle till I die. +And yet I had rather die in serving a soldier master than a long-gowned +Syrian who comes of a stock where the women are men and the men are +women." + +There was a laugh from the circle of soldiers, for sedition and mutiny +were rife in the camp, and even the old centurion's outbreak could not +draw a protest. Maximin raised his great mastiff head and looked at +Balbus. + +"Was any name in the mouths of the soldiers?" he asked in a meaning +voice. + +There was a hush for the answer. The sigh of the wind among the pines +and the low lapping of the river swelled out louder in the silence. +Balbus looked hard at his commander. + +"Two names were whispered from rank to rank," said he. "One was +Ascenius Pollio, the General. The other was--" + +The fiery Sulpicius sprang to his feet waving a glowing brand above his +head. + +"Maximinus!" he yelled, "Imperator Maximinus Augustus!" + +Who could tell how it came about? No one had thought of it an hour +before. And now it sprang in an instant to full accomplishment. +The shout of the frenzied young African had scarcely rung through the +darkness when from the tents, from the watch-fires, from the sentries, +the answer came pealing back: "Ave, Maximinus! Ave Maximinus Augustus!" +From all sides men came rushing, half-clad, wild-eyed, their eyes +staring, their mouths agape, flaming wisps of straw or flaring torches +above their heads. The giant was caught up by scores of hands, and sat +enthroned upon the bull-necks of the legionaries. "To the camp!" they +yelled. "To the camp! Hail! Hail to the soldier Caesar!" + +That same night Severus Alexander, the young Syrian Emperor, walked +outside his Praetorian camp, accompanied by his friend Licinius Probus, +the Captain of the Guard. They were talking gravely of the gloomy faces +and seditious bearing of the soldiers. A great foreboding of evil +weighed heavily upon the Emperor's heart, and it was reflected upon +the stern bearded face of his companion. + +"I like it not," said he. "It is my counsel, Caesar, that with the +first light of morning we make our way south once more." + +"But surely," the Emperor answered, "I could not for shame turn my back +upon the danger. What have they against me? How have I harmed them +that they should forget their vows and rise upon me?" + +"They are like children who ask always for something new. You heard the +murmur as you rode along the ranks. Nay, Caesar, fly tomorrow, and +your Praetorians will see that you are not pursued. There may be some +loyal cohorts among the legions, and if we join forces--" + +A distant shout broke in upon their conversation--a low continued roar, +like the swelling tumult of a sweeping wave. Far down the road upon +which they stood there twinkled many moving lights, tossing and sinking +as they rapidly advanced, whilst the hoarse tumultuous bellowing broke +into articulate words, the same tremendous words, a thousand-fold +repeated. Licinius seized the Emperor by the wrist and dragged him +under the cover of some bushes. + +"Be still, Caesar! For your life be still!" he whispered. "One word +and we are lost!" + +Crouching in the darkness, they saw that wild procession pass, the +rushing screaming figures, the tossing arms, the bearded, distorted +faces, now scarlet and now grey, as the brandished torches waxed or +waned. They heard the rush of many feet, the clamour of hoarse voices, +the clang of metal upon metal. And then suddenly, above them all, they +saw a vision of a monstrous man, a huge bowed back, a savage face, grim +hawk eyes, that looked out over the swaying shields. It was seen for an +instant in a smoke-fringed circle of fire, and then it had swept on into +the night. + +"Who is he?" stammered the Emperor, clutching at his guardsman's sleeve. +"They call him Caesar." + +"It is surely Maximin the Thracian peasant." In the darkness the +Praetorian officer looked with strange eyes at his master. + +"It is all over, Caesar. Let us fly your tent." + +But even as they went a second shout had broken forth tenfold louder +than the first. If the one had been the roar of the oncoming wave, the +other was the full turmoil of the tempest. Twenty thousand voices from +the camp had broken into one wild shout which echoed through the night, +until the distant Germans round their watch-fires listened in wonder +and alarm. + +"Ave!" cried the voices. "Ave Maximinus Augustus!" + +High upon their bucklers stood the giant, and looked round him at the +great floor of upturned faces below. His own savage soul was stirred by +the clamour, but only his gleaming eyes spoke of the fire within. +He waved his hand to the shouting soldiers as the huntsman waves to the +leaping pack. They passed him up a coronet of oak leaves, and clashed +their swords in homage as he placed it on his head. And then there came +a swirl in the crowd before him, a little space was cleared, and there +knelt an officer in the Praetorian garb, blood upon his face, blood upon +his bared forearm, blood upon his naked sword. Licinius too had gone +with the tide. + +"Hail, Caesar, hail!" he cried, as he bowed his head before the giant. +"I come from Alexander. He will trouble you no more." + + + +III THE FALL OF MAXIMIN + + +For three years the soldier Emperor had been upon the throne. +His palace had been his tent, and his people had been the legionaries. +With them he was supreme; away from them he was nothing. He had +gone with them from one frontier to the other. He had fought against +Dacians, Sarmatians, and once again against the Germans. But Rome knew +nothing of him, and all her turbulence rose against a master who cared +so little for her or her opinion that he never deigned to set foot +within her walls. There were cabals and conspiracies against the absent +Caesar. Then his heavy hand fell upon them, and they were cuffed, even +as the young soldiers had been who passed under his discipline. He knew +nothing, and cared as much for consuls, senates, and civil laws. +His own will and the power of the sword were the only forces which he +could understand. Of commerce and the arts he was as ignorant as when +he left his Thracian home. The whole vast Empire was to him a huge +machine for producing the money by which the legions were to be +rewarded. Should he fail to get that money, his fellow soldiers +would bear him a grudge. To watch their interests they had raised him +upon their shields that night. If city funds had to be plundered or +temples desecrated, still the money must be got. Such was the point +of view of Giant Maximin. + +But there came resistance, and all the fierce energy of the man, all the +hardness which had given him the leadership of hard men, sprang forth to +quell it. From his youth he had lived amidst slaughter. Life and death +were cheap things to him. He struck savagely at all who stood up to +him, and when they hit back, he struck more savagely still. His giant +shadow lay black across the Empire from Britain to Syria. A strange +subtle vindictiveness became also apparent in him. Omnipotence ripened +every fault and swelled it into crime. In the old days he had been +rebuked for his roughness. Now a sullen dangerous anger arose against +those who had rebuked him. He sat by the hour with his craggy chin +between his hands, and his elbows resting on his knees, while he +recalled all the misadventures, all the vexations of his early youth, +when Roman wits had shot their little satires upon his bulk and his +ignorance. He could not write, but his son Verus placed the names upon +his tablets, and they were sent to the Governor of Rome. Men who had +long forgotten their offence were called suddenly to make most bloody +reparation. + +A rebellion broke out in Africa, but was quelled by his lieutenant. +But the mere rumour of it set Rome in a turmoil. The Senate found +something of its ancient spirit. So did the Italian people. +They would not be for ever bullied by the legions. As Maximin +approached from the frontier, with the sack of rebellious Rome in his +mind, he was faced with every sign of a national resistance. The +countryside was deserted, the farms abandoned, the fields cleared of +crops and cattle. Before him lay the walled town of Aquileia. He flung +himself fiercely upon it, but was met by as fierce a resistance. +The walls could not be forced, and yet there was no food in the country +round for his legions. The men were starving and dissatisfied. +What did it matter to them who was Emperor? Maximin was no better than +themselves. Why should they call down the curse of the whole Empire +upon their heads by upholding him? He saw their sullen faces and their +averted eyes, and he knew that the end had come. + +That night he sat with his son Verus in his tent, and he spoke softly +and gently as the youth had never heard him speak before. He had spoken +thus in old days with Paullina, the boy's mother; but she had been dead +these many years, and all that was soft and gentle in the big man had +passed away with her. Now her spirit seemed very near him, and his own +was tempered by its presence. + +"I would have you go back to the Thracian mountains," he said. "I have +tried both, boy, and I can tell you that there is no pleasure which +power can bring which can equal the breath of the wind and the smell of +the kine upon a summer morning. Against you they have no quarrel. +Why should they mishandle you? Keep far from Rome and the Romans. +Old Eudoxus has money, and to spare. He awaits you with two horses +outside the camp. Make for the valley of the Harpessus, lad. It was +thence that your father came, and there you will find his kin. Buy and +stock a homestead, and keep yourself far from the paths of greatness and +of danger. God keep you, Verus, and send you safe to Thrace." + +When his son had kissed his hand and had left him, the Emperor drew his +robe around him and sat long in thought. In his slow brain he revolved +the past--his early peaceful days, his years with Severus, his memories +of Britain, his long campaigns, his strivings and battlings, all leading +to that mad night by the Rhine. His fellow soldiers had loved him then. +And now he had read death in their eyes. How had he failed them? +Others he might have wronged, but they at least had no complaint against +him. If he had his time again, he would think less of them and more of +his people, he would try to win love instead of fear, he would live for +peace and not for war. If he had his time again! But there were +shuffling Steps, furtive whispers, and the low rattle of arms outside +his tent. A bearded face looked in at him, a swarthy African face that +he knew well. He laughed, and, bearing his arm, he took his sword +from the table beside him. + +"It is you, Sulpicius," said he. "You have not come to cry 'Ave +Imperator Maximin!' as once by the camp fire. You are tired of me, and +by the gods I am tired of you, and glad to be at the end of it. +Come and have done with it, for I am minded to see how many of you I can +take with me when I go." + +They clustered at the door of the tent, peeping over each other's +shoulders, and none wishing to be the first to close with that laughing, +mocking giant. But something was pushed forward upon a spear point, and +as he saw it, Maximin groaned and his sword sank to the earth. + +"You might have spared the boy," he sobbed. "He would not have hurt +you. Have done with it then, for I will gladly follow him." + +So they closed upon him and cut and stabbed and thrust, until his knees +gave way beneath him and he dropped upon the floor. + +"The tyrant is dead!" they cried. "The tyrant is dead," and from all +the camp beneath them and from the walls of the beleaguered city the +joyous cry came echoing back, "He is dead, Maximin is dead!" + +I sit in my study, and upon the table before me lies a denarius of +Maximin, as fresh as when the triumvir of the Temple of Juno Moneta sent +it from the mint. Around it are recorded his resounding titles-- +Imperator Maximinus, Pontifex Maximus, Tribunitia potestate, and the +rest. In the centre is the impress of a great craggy head, a massive +jaw, a rude fighting face, a contracted forehead. For all the pompous +roll of titles it is a peasant's face, and I see him not as the Emperor +of Rome, but as the great Thracian boor who strode down the hillside on +that far-distant summer day when first the eagles beckoned him to Rome. + + + +THE COMING OF THE HUNS + + +In the middle of the fourth century the state of the Christian religion +was a scandal and a disgrace. Patient, humble, and long-suffering in +adversity, it had become positive, aggressive, and unreasonable with +success. Paganism was not yet dead, but it was rapidly sinking, finding +its most faithful supporters among the conservative aristocrats of the +best families on the one hand, and among those benighted villagers on +the other who gave their name to the expiring creed. Between these two +extremes the great majority of reasonable men had turned from the +conception of many gods to that of one, and had rejected for ever the +beliefs of their forefathers. But with the vices of polytheism they +had also abandoned its virtues, among which toleration and religious +good humour had been conspicuous. The strenuous earnestness of the +Christians had compelled them to examine and define every point of their +own theology; but as they had no central authority by which such +definitions could be checked, it was not long before a hundred heresies +had put forward their rival views, while the same earnestness of +conviction led the stronger bands of schismatics to endeavour, for +conscience sake, to force their views upon the weaker, and thus to cover +the Eastern world with confusion and strife. + +Alexandria, Antioch, and Constantinople were centres of theological +warfare. The whole north of Africa, too, was rent by the strife of the +Donatists, who upheld their particular schism by iron flails and the +war-cry of "Praise to the Lord!" But minor local controversies sank to +nothing when compared with the huge argument of the Catholic and the +Arian, which rent every village in twain, and divided every household +from the cottage to the palace. The rival doctrines of the Homoousian +and of the Homoiousian, containing metaphysical differences so +attenuated that they could hardly be stated, turned bishop against +bishop and congregation against congregation. The ink of the +theologians and the blood of the fanatics were spilled in floods on +either side, and gentle followers of Christ were horrified to find that +their faith was responsible for such a state of riot and bloodshed as +had never yet disgraced the religious history of the world. Many of the +more earnest among them, shocked and scandalized, slipped away to the +Libyan Desert, or to the solitude of Pontus, there to await in +self-denial and prayer that second coming which was supposed to be at +hand. Even in the deserts they could not escape the echo of the distant +strife, and the hermits themselves scowled fiercely from their dens at +passing travellers who might be contaminated by the doctrines of +Athanasius or of Arius. + +Such a hermit was Simon Melas, of whom I write. A Trinitarian and a +Catholic, he was shocked by the excesses of the persecution of the +Arians, which could be only matched by the similar outrages with which +these same Arians in the day of their power avenged their treatment on +their brother Christians. Weary of the whole strife, and convinced that +the end of the world was indeed at hand, he left his home in +Constantinople and travelled as far as the Gothic settlements in Dacia, +beyond the Danube, in search of some spot where he might be free from +the never-ending disputes. Still journeying to the north and east, he +crossed the river which we now call the Dneister, and there, finding a +rocky hill rising from an immense plain, he formed a cell near its +summit, and settled himself down to end his life in self-denial and +meditation. There were fish in the stream, the country teemed with +game, and there was an abundance of wild fruits, so that his spiritual +exercises were not unduly interrupted by the search of sustenance for +his mortal frame. + +In this distant retreat he expected to find absolute solitude, but the +hope was in vain. Within a week of his arrival, in an hour of worldly +curiosity, he explored the edges of the high rocky hill upon which he +lived. Making his way up to a cleft, which was hung with olives and +myrtles, he came upon a cave in the opening of which sat an aged man, +white-bearded, white-haired, and infirm--a hermit like himself. +So long had this stranger been alone that he had almost forgotten the +use of his tongue; but at last, words coming more freely, he was able to +convey the information that his name was Paul of Nicopolis, that he was +a Greek citizen, and that he also had come out into the desert for the +saving of his soul, and to escape from the contamination of heresy. + +"Little I thought, brother Simon," said he, "that I should ever find any +one else who had come so far upon the same holy errand. In all these +years, and they are so many that I have lost count of them, I have never +seen a man, save indeed one or two wandering shepherds far out upon +yonder plain." + +From where they sat, the huge steppe, covered with waving grass and +gleaming with a vivid green in the sun, stretched away as level and as +unbroken as the sea, to the eastern horizon. Simon Melas stared across +it with curiosity. + +"Tell me, brother Paul," said he, "you who have lived here so long--what +lies at the further side of that plain?" + +The old man shook his head. "There is no further side to the plain," +said he. "It is the earth's boundary, and stretches away to eternity. +For all these years I have sat beside it, but never once have I seen +anything come across it. It is manifest that if there had been a +further side there would certainly at some time have come some +traveller from that direction. Over the great river yonder is the Roman +post of Tyras; but that is a long day's journey from here, and they have +never disturbed my meditations." + +"On what do you meditate, brother Paul?" + +"At first I meditated on many sacred mysteries; but now, for twenty +years, I have brooded continually on the nature of the Logos. What is +your view upon that vital matter, brother Simon?" + +"Surely," said the younger man, "there can be no question as to that. +The Logos is assuredly but a name used by St. John to signify the +Deity." + +The old hermit gave a hoarse cry of fury, and his brown, withered face +was convulsed with anger. Seizing the huge cudgel which he kept to beat +off the wolves, he shook it murderously at his companion. + +"Out with you! Out of my cell!" he cried. "Have I lived here so long +to have it polluted by a vile Trinitarian--a follower of the rascal +Athanasius? Wretched idolater, learn once for all, that the Logos +is in truth an emanation from the Deity, and in no sense equal or +co-eternal with Him! Out with you, I say, or I will dash out your +brains with my staff!" + +It was useless to reason with the furious Arian, and Simon withdrew in +sadness and wonder, that at this extreme verge of the known earth the +spirit of religious strife should still break upon the peaceful +solitude of the wilderness. With hanging head and heavy heart he made +his way down the valley, and climbed up once more to his own cell, which +lay at the crown of the hill, with the intention of never again +exchanging visits with his Arian neighbour. + +Here, for a year, dwelt Simon Melas, leading a life of solitude and +prayer. There was no reason why any one should ever come to this +outermost point of human habitation. Once a young Roman officer-- +Caius Crassus--rode out a day's journey from Tyras, and climbed the hill +to have speech with the anchorite. He was of an equestrian family, and +still held his belief in the old dispensation. He looked with interest +and surprise, but also with some disgust, at the ascetic arrangements of +that humble abode. + +"Whom do you please by living in such a fashion?" he asked. + +"We show that our spirit is superior to our flesh," Simon answered. +"If we fare badly in this world, we believe that we shall reap an +advantage in the world to come." + +The centurion shrugged his shoulders. "There are philosophers among our +people, Stoics and others, who have the same idea. When I was in the +Herulian Cohort of the Fourth Legion we were quartered in Rome itself, +and I saw much of the Christians, but I could never learn anything from +them which I had not heard from my own father, whom you, in your +arrogance, would call a Pagan. It is true that we talk of numerous +gods; but for many years we have not taken them very seriously. +Our thoughts upon virtue and duty and a noble life are the same as your +own." + +Simon Melas shook his head. + +"If you have not the holy books," said he, "then what guide have you to +direct your steps?" + +"If you will read our philosophers, and above all the divine Plato, you +will find that there are other guides who may take you to the same end. +Have you by chance read the book which was written by our Emperor Marcus +Aurelius? Do you not discover there every virtue which man could have, +although he knew nothing of your creed? Have you considered, also, the +words and actions of our late Emperor Julian, with whom I served my +first campaign when he went out against the Persians? Where could you +find a more perfect man than he?" + +"Such talk is unprofitable, and I will have no more of it," said Simon, +sternly. "Take heed while there is time, and embrace the true faith; +for the end of the world is at hand, and when it comes there will be no +mercy for those who have shut their eyes to the light." So saying, he +turned back once more to his praying-stool and to his crucifix, while +the young Roman walked in deep thought down the hill, and mounting his +horse, rode off to his distant post. Simon watched him until his +brazen helmet was but a bead of light on the western edge of the great +plain; for this was the first human face that he had seen in all this +long year, and there were times when his heart yearned for the voices +and the faces of his kind. + +So another year passed, and save for the chance of weather and the slow +change of the seasons, one day was as another. Every morning, when +Simon opened his eyes, he saw the same grey line ripening into red in +the furthest east, until the bright rim pushed itself above that far-off +horizon across which no living creature had ever been known to come. +Slowly the sun swept across the huge arch of the heavens, and as the +shadows shifted from the black rocks which jutted upward from above his +cell, so did the hermit regulate his terms of prayer and meditation. +There was nothing on earth to draw his eye, or to distract his mind, for +the grassy plain below was as void from month to month as the heaven +above. So the long hours passed, until the red rim slipped down on the +further side, and the day ended in the same pearl-grey shimmer with +which it had begun. Once two ravens circled for some days round the +lonely hill, and once a white fish-eagle came from the Dneister and +screamed above the hermit's head. Sometimes red dots were seen on the +green plain where the antelopes grazed, and often a wolf howled in the +darkness from the base of the rocks. Such was the uneventful life of +Simon Melas the anchorite, until there came the day of wrath. + +It was in the late spring of the year 375 that Simon came out from his +cell, his gourd in his hand, to draw water from the spring. Darkness +had closed in, the sun had set, but one last glimmer of rosy light +rested upon a rocky peak, which jutted forth from the hill, on the +further side from the hermit's dwelling. As Simon came forth from under +his ledge, the gourd dropped from his hand, and he stood gazing in +amazement. + +On the opposite peak a man was standing, his outline black in the fading +light. He was a strange almost a deformed figure, short-statured, +round-backed, with a large head, no neck, and a long rod jutting out +from between his shoulders. He stood with his face advanced, and his +body bent, peering very intently over the plain to the westward. +In a moment he was gone, and the lonely black peak showed up hard and +naked against the faint eastern glimmer. Then the night closed down, +and all was black once more. + +Simon Melas stood long in bewilderment, wondering who this stranger +could be. He had heard, as had every Christian, of those evil spirits +which were wont to haunt the hermits in the Thebaid and on the skirts of +the Ethiopian waste. The strange shape of this solitary creature, its +dark outline and prowling, intent attitude, suggestive rather of a +fierce, rapacious beast than of a man, all helped him to believe that he +had at last encountered one of those wanderers from the pit, of whose +existence, in those days of robust faith, he had no more doubt than of +his own. Much of the night he spent in prayer, his eyes glancing +continually at the low arch of his cell door, with its curtain of deep +purple wrought with stars. At any instant some crouching monster, some +homed abomination, might peer in upon him; and he clung with frenzied +appeal to his crucifix, as his human weakness quailed at the thought. +But at last his fatigue overcame his fears, and falling upon his couch +of dried grass, he slept until the bright daylight brought him to his +senses. + +It was later than was his wont, and the sun was far above the horizon. +As he came forth from his cell, he looked across at the peak of rock, +but it stood there bare and silent. Already it seemed to him that that +strange dark figure which had startled him so was some dream, some +vision of the twilight. His gourd lay where it had fallen, and he +picked it up with the intention of going to the spring. But suddenly he +was aware of something new. The whole air was throbbing with sound. +From all sides it came, rumbling, indefinite, an inarticulate mutter, +low, but thick and strong, rising, falling, reverberating among the +rocks, dying away into vague whispers, but always there. He looked +round at the blue, cloudless sky in bewilderment. Then he scrambled up +the rocky pinnacle above him, and sheltering himself in its shadow, he +stared out over the plain. In his wildest dream he had never imagined +such a sight. + +The whole vast expanse was covered with horse-men, hundreds and +thousands and tens of thousands, all riding slowly and in silence, out +of the unknown east. It was the multitudinous beat of their horses' +hoofs which caused that low throbbing in his ears. Some were so close +to him as he looked down upon them that he could see clearly their thin +wiry horses, and the strange humped figures of the swarthy riders, +sitting forward on the withers, shapeless bundles, their short legs +hanging stirrupless, their bodies balanced as firmly as though they were +part of the beast. In those nearest he could see the bow and the +quiver, the long spear and the short sword, with the coiled lasso behind +the rider, which told that this was no helpless horde of wanderers, but +a formidable army upon the march. His eyes passed on from them and +swept further and further, but still to the very horizon, which quivered +with movement, there was no end to this monstrous cavalry. Already the +vanguard was far past the island of rock upon which he dwelt, and he +could now understand that in front of this vanguard were single scouts +who guided the course of the army, and that it was one of these whom he +had seen the evening before. + +All day, held spell-bound by this wonderful sight, the hermit crouched +in the shadow of the rocks, and all day the sea of horsemen rolled +onward over the plain beneath. Simon had seen the swarming quays of +Alexandria, he had watched the mob which blocked the hippodrome of +Constantinople, yet never had he imagined such a multitude as now +defiled beneath his eyes, coming from that eastern skyline which had +been the end of his world. Sometimes the dense streams of horsemen were +broken by droves of brood-mares and foals, driven along by mounted +guards; sometimes there were herds of cattle; sometimes there were lines +of waggons with skin canopies above them; but then once more, after +every break, came the horsemen, the horsemen, the hundreds and the +thousands and the tens of thousands, slowly, ceaselessly, silently +drifting from the east to the west. The long day passed, the light +waned, and the shadows fell; but still the great broad stream was +flowing by. + +But the night brought a new and even stranger sight. Simon had marked +bundles of faggots upon the backs of many of the led horses, and now he +saw their use. All over the great plain, red pin-points gleamed through +the darkness, which grew and brightened into flickering columns of +flame. So far as he could see both to east and west the fires extended, +until they were but points of light in the furthest distance. White +stars shone in the vast heavens above, red ones in the great plain +below. And from every side rose the low, confused murmur of voices, +with the lowing of oxen and the neighing of horses. + +Simon had been a soldier and a man of affairs before ever he forsook the +world, and the meaning of all that he had seen was clear to him. +History told him how the Roman world had ever been assailed by fresh +swarms of Barbarians, coming from the outer darkness, and that the +Eastern Empire had already, in its fifty years of existence since +Constantine had moved the capital of the world to the shores of the +Bosphorus, been tormented in the same way. Gepidae and Heruli, +Ostrogoths and Sarmatians, he was familiar with them all. What the +advanced sentinel of Europe had seen from this lonely outlying hill, was +a fresh swarm breaking in upon the Empire, distinguished only from the +others by its enormous, incredible size and by the strange aspect of the +warriors who composed it. He alone of all civilized men knew of the +approach of this dreadful shadow, sweeping like a heavy storm-cloud +from the unknown depths of the east. He thought of the little Roman +posts along the Dneister, of the ruined Dacian wall of Trajan behind +them, and then of the scattered, defenceless villages which lay with +no thought of danger over all the open country which stretched down to +the Danube. Could he but give them the alarm! Was it not, perhaps, for +that very end that God had guided him to the wilderness? + +Then suddenly he remembered his Arian neighbour, who dwelt in the cave +beneath him. Once or twice during the last year he had caught a glimpse +of his tall, bent figure hobbling round to examine the traps which he +laid for quails and partridges. On one occasion they had met at the +brook; but the old theologian waved him away, as if he were a leper. +What did he think now of this strange happening? Surely their +differences might be forgotten at such a moment. He stole down the side +of the hill, and made his way to his fellow-hermit's cave. + +But there was a terrible silence as he approached it. His heart sank at +that deadly stillness in the little valley. No glimmer of light came +from the cleft in the rocks. He entered and called, but no answer came +back. Then, with flint, steel, and the dry grass which he used for +tinder, he struck a spark, and blew it into a blaze. The old hermit, +his white hair dabbled with crimson, lay sprawling across the floor. +The broken crucifix, with which his head had been beaten in, lay in +splinters across him. Simon had dropped on his knees beside him, +straightening his contorted limbs, and muttering the office for the +dead, when the thud of a horse's hoofs was heard ascending the little +valley which led to the hermit's cell. The dry grass had burned down, +and Simon crouched trembling in the darkness, pattering prayers to the +Virgin that his strength might be upheld. + +It may have been that the newcomer had seen the gleam of the light, or +it may have been that he had heard from his comrades of the old man whom +they had murdered, and that his curiosity had led him to the spot. +He stopped his horse outside the cave, and Simon, lurking in the shadows +within, had a fair view of him in the moonlight. He slipped from his +saddle, fastened the bridle to a root, and then stood peering through +the opening of the cell. He was a very short, thick man, with a dark +face, which was gashed with three cuts upon either side. His small eyes +were sunk deep in his head, showing like black holes in the heavy, flat, +hairless face. His legs were short and very bandy, so that he waddled +uncouthly as he walked. + +Simon crouched in the darkest angle, and he gripped in his hand that +same knotted cudgel which the dead theologian had once raised against +him. As that hideous stooping head advanced into the darkness of the +cell, he brought the staff down upon it with all the strength of his +right arm, and then, as the stricken savage fell forward upon his face, +he struck madly again and again, until the shapeless figure lay limp and +still. One roof covered the first slain of Europe and of Asia. + +Simon's veins were throbbing and quivering with the unwonted joy of +action. All the energy stored up in those years of repose came in a +flood at this moment of need. Standing in the darkness of the cell, he +saw, as in a map of fire, the outlines of the great Barbaric host, the +line of the river, the position of the settlements, the means by which +they might be warned. Silently he waited in the shadow until the moon +had sunk. Then he flung himself upon the dead man's horse, guided it +down the gorge, and set forth at a gallop across the plain. + +There were fires on every side of him, but he kept clear of the rings of +light. Round each he could see, as he passed, the circle of sleeping +warriors, with the long lines of picketed horses. Mile after mile and +league after league stretched that huge encampment. And then, at last, +he had reached the open plain which led to the river, and the fires of +the invaders were but a dull smoulder against the black eastern sky. +Ever faster and faster he sped across the steppe, like a single +fluttered leaf which whirls before the storm. Even as the dawn whitened +the sky behind him, it gleamed also upon the broad river in front, and +he flogged his weary horse through the shallows, until he plunged into +its full yellow tide. + +So it was that, as the young Roman centurion--Caius Crassus--made his +morning round in the fort of Tyras he saw a single horseman, who rode +towards him from the river. Weary and spent, drenched with water and +caked with dirt and sweat, both horse and man were at the last stage of +their endurance. With amazement the Roman watched their progress, and +recognized in the ragged, swaying figure, with flying hair and staring +eyes, the hermit of the eastern desert. He ran to meet him, and caught +him in his arms as he reeled from the saddle. + +"What is it, then?" he asked. "What is your news?" + +But the hermit could only point at the rising sun. "To arms!" he +croaked. "To arms! The day of wrath is come!" And as he looked, the +Roman saw--far across the river--a great dark shadow, which moved slowly +over the distant plain. + + + +THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS + + +Pontus, the Roman viceroy, sat in the atrium of his palatial villa by +the Thames, and he looked with perplexity at the scroll of papyrus which +he had just unrolled. Before him stood the messenger who had brought +it, a swarthy little Italian, whose black eyes were glazed with want of +sleep, and his olive features darker still from dust and sweat. +The viceroy was looking fixedly at him, yet he saw him not, so full was +his mind of this sudden and most unexpected order. To him it seemed as +if the solid earth had given way beneath his feet. His life and the +work of his life had come to irremediable ruin. + +"Very good," he said at last in a hard dry voice, "you can go." + +The man saluted and staggered out of the hall. + +A yellow-haired British major-domo came forward for orders. + +"Is the General there?" + +"He is waiting, your excellency." + +"Then show him in, and leave us together." + +A few minutes later Licinius Crassus, the head of the British military +establishment, had joined his chief. He was a large bearded man in a +white civilian toga, hemmed with the Patrician purple. His rough, bold +features, burned and seamed and lined with the long African wars, were +shadowed with anxiety as he looked with questioning eyes at the drawn, +haggard face of the viceroy. + +"I fear, your excellency, that you have had bad news from Rome." + +"The worst, Crassus. It is all over with Britain. It is a question +whether even Gaul will be held." + +"Saint Albus save us! Are the orders precise?" + +"Here they are, with the Emperor's own seal." + +"But why? I had heard a rumour, but it had seemed too incredible." + +"So had I only last week, and had the fellow scourged for having spread +it. But here it is as clear as words can make it: 'Bring every man of +the Legions by forced marches to the help of the Empire. Leave not a +cohort in Britain.' These are my orders." + +"But the cause?" + +"They will let the limbs wither so that the heart be stronger. The old +German hive is about to swarm once more. There are fresh crowds of +Barbarians from Dacia and Scythia. Every sword is needed to hold the +Alpine passes. They cannot let three legions lie idle in Britain." + +The soldier shrugged his shoulder's. + +"When the legions go no Roman would feel that his life was safe here. +For all that we have done, it is none the less the truth that it is no +country of ours, and that we hold it as we won it by the sword." + +"Yes, every man, woman, and child of Latin blood must come with us to +Gaul. The galleys are already waiting at Portus Dubris. Get the orders +out, Crassus, at once. As the Valerian legion falls back from the Wall +of Hadrian it can take the northern colonists with it. The Jovians can +bring in the people from the west, and the Batavians can escort the +easterns if they will muster at Camboricum. You will see to it." +He sank his face for a moment in his hands. "It is a fearsome thing," +said he, "to tear up the roots of so goodly a tree." + +"To make more space for such a crop of weeds," said the soldier +bitterly. "My God, what will be the end of these poor Britons! +From ocean to ocean there is not a tribe which will not be at the +throat of its neighbour when the last Roman Lictor has turned his back. +With these hot-headed Silures it is hard enough now to keep the swords +in their sheaths." + +"The kennel might fight as they chose among themselves until the best +hound won," said the Roman Governor. "At least the victor would keep +the arts and the religion which we have brought them, and Britain would +be one land. No, it is the bear from the north and the wolves from +oversea, the painted savage from beyond the walls and the Saxon pirate +from over the water, who will succeed to our rule. Where we saved, they +will slay; where we built, they will burn; where we planted, they will +ravage. But the die is cast, Crassus. You will carry out the orders." + +"I will send out the messengers within an hour. This very morning there +has come news that the Barbarians are through the old gap in the wall, +and their outriders as far south as Vinovia." The Governor shrugged his +shoulders. "These things concern us no longer," said he. Then a bitter +smile broke upon his aquiline clean-shaven face. "Whom think you that I +see in audience this morning?" + +"Nay, I know not." + +"Caradoc and Regnus, and Celticus the Icenian, who, like so many of the +richer Britons, have been educated at Rome, and who would lay before me +their plans as to the ruling of this country." + +"And what is their plan?" + +"That they themselves should do it." The Roman soldier laughed. +"Well, they will have their will," said he, as he saluted and turned +upon his heel. "Farewell, your excellency. There are hard days coming +for you and for me." + +An hour later the British deputation was ushered into the presence of +the Governor. They were good steadfast men, men who with a whole heart, +and at some risk to themselves, had taken up their country's cause, so +far as they could see it. At the same time, they well knew that under +the mild and beneficent rule of Rome it was only when they passed from +words to deeds that their backs or their necks would be in danger. +They stood now, earnest and a little abashed, before the throne of the +viceroy. Celticus was a swarthy black-bearded little Iberian. Caradoc +and Regnus were tall middle-aged men of the fair flaxen British type. +All three were dressed in the draped yellow toga after the Latin +fashion, instead of in the bracae and tunic which distinguished their +more insular fellow-countrymen. + +"Well?" asked the Governor. + +"We are here," said Celticus boldly, "as the spokesmen of a great number +of our fellow-countrymen, for the purpose of sending our petition +through you to the Emperor and to the Roman Senate, that we may urge +upon them the policy of allowing us to govern this country after our own +ancient fashion." He paused, as if awaiting some outburst as an answer +to his own temerity; but the Governor merely nodded his head as a sign +that he should proceed. "We had laws of our own before ever Caesar set +foot in Britain, which have served their purpose since first our +forefathers came from the land of Ham. We are not a child among the +nations, but our history goes back in our own traditions--further even +than that of Rome, and we are galled by this yoke which you have laid +upon us." + +"Are not our laws just?" asked the Governor. + +"The code of Caesar is just, but it is always the code of Caesar. +Our own laws were made for our own uses and our own circumstances, and +we would fain have them again." + +"You speak Roman as if you had been bred in the Forum; you wear a Roman +toga; your hair is filleted in Roman fashion--are not these the gifts +of Rome?" + +"We would take all the learning and all the arts that Rome or Greece +could give, but we would still be Britain, and ruled by Britons." + +The viceroy smiled. "By the rood of Saint Helena," said he, "had you +spoken thus to some of my heathen ancestors, there would have been an +end to your politics. That you have dared to stand before my face and +say as much is a proof for ever of the gentleness of our rule. But I +would reason with you for a moment upon this your request. You know +well that this land has never been one kingdom, but was always under +many chiefs and many tribes, who have made war upon each other. +Would you in very truth have it so again?" + +"Those were in the evil pagan days, the days of the Druid and the +oak-grove, your excellency. But now we are held together by a gospel of +peace." + +The viceroy shook his head. "If all the world were of the same way of +thinking, then it would be easier," said he. "It may be that this +blessed doctrine of peace will be little help to you when you are face +to face with strong men who still worship the god of war. What would +you do against the Picts of the north?" + +"Your excellency knows that many of the bravest legionaries are of +British blood. These are our defence." + +"But discipline, man, the power to command, the knowledge of war, the +strength to act--it is in these things that you would fail. Too long +have you leaned upon the crutch." + +"The times may be hard, but when we have gone through them, Britain will +be herself again." + +"Nay, she will be under a different and a harsher master," said the +Roman. "Already the pirates swarm upon the eastern coast. Were it not +for our Roman Count of the Saxon shore they would land tomorrow. I see +the day when Britain may, indeed, be one; but that will be because you +and your fellows are either dead or are driven into the mountains of +the west. All goes into the melting-pot, and if a better Albion should +come forth from it, it will be after ages of strife, and neither you nor +your people will have part or lot in it." + +Regnus, the tall young Celt, smiled. "With the help of God and our own +right arms we should hope for a better end," said he. "Give us but the +chance, and we will bear the brunt." + +"You are as men that are lost," said the viceroy sadly. "I see this +broad land, with its gardens and orchards, its fair villas and its +walled towns, its bridges and its roads, all the work of Rome. +Surely it will pass even as a dream, and these three hundred years of +settled order will leave no trace behind. For learn that it will indeed +be as you wish, and that this very day the orders have come to me that +the legions are to go." + +The three Britons looked at each other in amazement. Their first +impulse was towards a wild exultation, but reflection and doubt followed +close upon its heels. + +"This is indeed wondrous news," said Celticus. "This is a day of days +to the motherland. When do the legions go, your excellency, and what +troops will remain behind for our protection?" + +"The legions go at once," said the viceroy. "You will doubtless rejoice +to hear that within a month there will be no Roman soldier in the +island, nor, indeed, a Roman of any sort, age, or sex, if I can take +them with me." + +The faces of the Britons were shadowed, and Caradoc, a grave and +thoughtful man, spoke for the first time. + +"But this is over sudden, your excellency," said he. "There is much +truth in what you have said about the pirates. From my villa near the +fort of Anderida I saw eighty of their galleys only last week, and I +know well that they would be on us like ravens on a dying ox. For many +years to come it would not be possible for us to hold them off." + +The viceroy shrugged his shoulders. "It is your affair now," said he. +"Rome must look to herself." + +The last traces of joy had passed from the faces of the Britons. +Suddenly the future had started up clearly before them, and they quailed +at the prospect. + +"There is a rumour in the market-place," said Celticus, "that the +northern Barbarians are through the gap in the wall. Who is to stop +their progress?" + +"You and your fellows," said the Roman. + +Clearer still grew the future, and there was terror in the eyes of the +spokesmen as they faced it. + +"But, your excellency, if the legions should go at once, we should have +the wild Scots at York, and the Northmen in the Thames within the month. +We can build ourselves up under your shield, and in a few years it would +be easier for us; but not now, your excellency, not now." + +"Tut, man; for years you have been clamouring in our ears and raising +the people. Now you have got what you asked. What more would you have? +Within the month you will be as free as were your ancestors before +Caesar set foot upon your shore." + +"For God's sake, your excellency, put our words out of your head. +The matter had not been well considered. We will send to Rome. We will +ride post-haste ourselves. We will fall at the Emperor's feet. We will +kneel before the Senate and beg that the legions remain." + +The Roman proconsul rose from his chair and motioned that the audience +was at an end. + +"You will do what you please," said he. "I and my men are for Italy." + +And even as he said, so was it, for before the spring had ripened into +summer, the troops were clanking down the via Aurelia on their way to +the Ligurian passes, whilst every road in Gaul was dotted with the carts +and the waggons which bore the Brito-Roman refugees on their weary +journey to their distant country. But ere another summer had passed +Celticus was dead, for he was flayed alive by the pirates and his skin +nailed upon the door of a church near Caistor. Regnus, too, was dead, +for he was tied to a tree and shot with arrows when the painted men came +to the sacking of Isca. Caradoc only was alive, but he was a slave to +Elda the red Caledonian, and his wife was mistress to Mordred the wild +chief of the western Cymri. From the ruined wall in the north to Vectis +in the south blood and ruin and ashes covered the fair land of Britain. +And after many days it came out fairer than ever, but, even as the +Roman had said, neither the Britons nor any men of their blood came into +the heritage of that which had been their own. + + + +THE FIRST CARGO + + +"Ex ovo omnia" + +When you left Briton with your legion, my dear Crassus, I promised that +I would write to you from time to time when a messenger chanced to be +going to Rome, and keep you informed as to anything of interest which +might occur in this country. Personally, I am very glad that I remained +behind when the troops and so many of our citizens left, for though the +living is rough and the climate is infernal, still by dint of the three +voyages which I have made for amber to the Baltic, and the excellent +prices which I obtained for it here, I shall soon be in a position to +retire, and to spend my old age under my own fig tree, or even perhaps +to buy a small villa at Baiae or Posuoli, where I could get a good +sun-bath after the continued fogs of this accursed island. I picture +myself on a little farm, and I read the Georgics as a preparation; but +when I hear the rain falling and the wind howling, Italy seems very far +away. + +In my previous letter, I let you know how things were going in this +country. The poor folk, who had given up all soldiering during the +centuries that we guarded them, are now perfectly helpless before these +Picts and Scots, tattoed Barbarians from the north, who overrun the +whole country and do exactly what they please. So long as they kept to +the north, the people in the south, who are the most numerous, and +also the most civilized of the Britons, took no heed of them; but now +the rascals have come as far as London, and the lazy folk in these parts +have had to wake up. Vortigern, the king, is useless for anything but +drink or women, so he sent across to the Baltic to get over some of the +North Germans, in the hope that they would come and help him. It is +bad enough to have a bear in your house, but it does not seem to me to +mend matters if you call in a pack of ferocious wolves as well. +However, nothing better could be devised, so an invitation was sent and +very promptly accepted. And it is here that your humble friend appears +upon the scene. In the course of my amber trading I had learned the +Saxon speech, and so I was sent down in all haste to the Kentish shore +that I might be there when our new allies came. I arrived there on the +very day when their first vessel appeared, and it is of my adventures +that I wish to tell you. It is perfectly clear to me that the landing +of these warlike Germans in England will prove to be an event of +historical importance, and so your inquisitive mind will not feel +wearied if I treat the matter in some detail. + +It was, then, upon the day of Mercury, immediately following the Feast +of Our Blessed Lord's Ascension, that I found myself upon the south bank +of the river Thames, at the point where it opens into a wide estuary. +There is an island there named Thanet, which was the spot chosen for the +landfall of our visitors. Sure enough, I had no sooner ridden up than +there was a great red ship, the first as it seems of three, coming in +under full sail. The white horse, which is the ensign of these rovers, +was hanging from her topmast, and she appeared to be crowded with men. +The sun was shining brightly, and the great scarlet ship, with +snow-white sails and a line of gleaming shields slung over her side, +made as fair a picture on that blue expanse as one would wish to see. + +I pushed off at once in a boat, because it had been arranged that none +of the Saxons should land until the king had come down to speak with +their leaders. Presently I was under the ship, which had a gilded +dragon in the bows, and a tier of oars along either side. As I looked +up, there was a row of helmeted heads looking down at me, and among them +I saw, to my great surprise and pleasure, that of Eric the Swart, with +whom I do business at Venta every year. He greeted me heartily when I +reached the deck, and became at once my guide, friend, and counsellor. +This helped me greatly with these Barbarians, for it is their nature +that they are very cold and aloof unless one of their own number can +vouch for you, after which they are very hearty and hospitable. +Try as they will, they find it hard, however, to avoid a certain +suggestion of condescension, and in the baser sort, of contempt, when +they are dealing with a foreigner. + +It was a great stroke of luck meeting Eric, for he was able to give me +some idea of how things stood before I was shown into the presence of +Kenna, the leader of this particular ship. The crew, as I learned +from him, was entirely made up of three tribes or families--those of +Kenna, of Lanc, and of Hasta. Each of these tribes gets its name by +putting the letters "ing" after the name of the chief, so that the +people on board would describe themselves as Kennings, Lancings, and +Hastings. I observed in the Baltic that the villages were named after +the family who lived in them, each keeping to itself, so that I have no +doubt if these fellows get a footing on shore, we shall see settlements +with names like these rising up among the British towns. + +The greater part of the men were sturdy fellows with red, yellow, or +brown hair, mostly the latter. To my surprise, I saw several women +among them. Eric, in answer to my question, explained that they always +take their women with them so far as they can, and that instead of +finding them an incumbrance as our Roman dames would be, they look upon +them as helpmates and advisers. Of course, I remembered afterwards that +our excellent and accurate Tacitus has remarked upon this characteristic +of the Germans. All laws in the tribes are decided by votes, and a vote +has not yet been given to the women, but many are in favour of it, and +it is thought that woman and man may soon have the same power in the +State, though many of the women themselves are opposed to such an +innovation. I observed to Eric that it was fortunate there were several +women on board, as they could keep each other company; but he answered +that the wives of chiefs had no desire to know the wives of the inferior +officers, and that both of them combined against the more common women, +so that any companionship was out of the question. He pointed as he +spoke to Editha, the wife of Kenna, a red-faced, elderly woman, who +walked among the others, her chin in the air, taking no more notice than +if they did not exist. + +Whilst I was talking to my friend Eric, a sudden altercation broke out +upon the deck, and a great number of the men paused in their work, and +flocked towards the spot with faces which showed that they were deeply +interested in the matter. Eric and I pushed our way among the others, +for I was very anxious to see as much as I could of the ways and manners +of these Barbarians. A quarrel had broken out about a child, a little +blue-eyed fellow with curly yellow hair, who appeared to be greatly +amused by the hubbub of which he was the cause. On one side of him +stood a white-bearded old man, of very majestic aspect, who signified by +his gestures that he claimed the lad for himself, while on the other was +a thin, earnest, anxious person, who strongly objected to the boy being +taken from him. Eric whispered in my ear that the old man was the +tribal high priest, who was the official sacrificer to their great god +Woden, whilst the other was a man who took somewhat different views, not +upon Woden, but upon the means by which he should be worshipped. +The majority of the crew were on the side of the old priest; but a +certain number, who liked greater liberty of worship, and to invent +their own prayers instead of always repeating the official ones, +followed the lead of the younger man. The difference was too deep and +too old to be healed among the grown men, but each had a great desire to +impress their view upon the children. This was the reason why these two +were now so furious with each other, and the argument between them ran +so high that several of their followers on either side had drawn the +short saxes, or knives from which their name of Saxon is derived, when a +burly, red-headed man pushed his way through the throng, and in a voice +of thunder brought the controversy to an end. + +"You priests, who argue about the things which no man can know, are more +trouble aboard this ship than all the dangers of the sea," he cried. +"Can you not be content with worshipping Woden, over which we are all +agreed, and not make so much of those small points upon which we may +differ? If there is all this fuss about the teaching of the children, +then I shall forbid either of you to teach them, and they must be +content with as much as they can learn from their mothers." + +The two angry teachers walked away with discontented faces; and +Kenna--for it was he who spoke--ordered that a whistle should be +sounded, and that the crew should assemble. I was pleased with the free +bearing of these people, for though this was their greatest chief, they +showed none of the exaggerated respect which soldiers of a legion might +show to the Praetor, but met him on a respectful equality, which showed +how highly they rated their own manhood. + +From our Roman standard, his remarks to his men would seem very wanting +in eloquence, for there were no graces nor metaphors to be found in +them, and yet they were short, strong and to the point. At any rate it +was very clear that they were to the minds of his hearers. He began by +reminding them that they had left their own country because the land was +all taken up, and that there was no use returning there, since there was +no place where they could dwell as free and independent men. +This island of Britain was but sparsely inhabited, and there was a +chance that every one of them would be able to found a home of his own. + +"You, Whitta," he said, addressing some of them by name, "you will found +a Whitting hame, and you, Bucka, we shall see you in a Bucking hame, +where your children, and your children's children will bless you for the +broad acres which your valour will have gained for them." There was no +word of glory or of honour in his speech, but he said that he was aware +that they would do their duty, on which they all struck their swords +upon their shields so that the Britons on the beach could hear the +clang. Then, his eyes falling upon me, he asked me whether I was the +messenger from Vortigern, and on my answering, he bid me follow him into +his cabin, where Lanc and Hasta the other chiefs were waiting for a +council. + +Picture me, then, my dear Crassus, in a very low-roofed cabin, with +these three huge Barbarians seated round me. Each was clad in some +sort of saffron tunic, with chain-mail shirts over it, and helmets +with the horns of oxen on either side, laid upon the table before them. +Like most of the Saxon chiefs, their beards were shaved, but they wore +their hair long and their huge light-coloured moustaches drooped down on +to their shoulders. They are gentle, slow, and somewhat heavy in their +bearing, but I can well fancy that their fury is the more terrible when +it does arise. + +Their minds seem to be of a very practical and positive nature, for they +at once began to ask me a series of questions upon the numbers of the +Britons, the resources of the kingdom, the conditions of its trade, and +other such subjects. They then set to work arguing over the information +which I had given, and became so absorbed in their own contention that I +believe there were times when they forgot my presence. Everything, +after due discussion, was decided between them by vote, the one who +found himself in the minority always submitting, though sometimes with a +very bad grace. Indeed, on one occasion Lanc, who usually differed from +the others, threatened to refer the matter to the general vote of the +whole crew. There was a constant conflict in the point of view; for +whereas Kenna and Hasta were anxious to extend the Saxon power, and to +make it greater in the eyes of the world, Lanc was of opinion that they +should give less thought to conquest and more to the comfort and +advancement of their followers. At the same time it seemed to me that +really Lanc was the more combative of the three; so much so that, even +in time of peace, he could not forego this contest with his own +brethren. Neither of the others seemed very fond of him, for they were +each, as was easy to see, proud of their chieftainship, and anxious to +use their authority, referring continually to those noble ancestors from +whom it was derived; while Lanc, though he was equally well born, took +the view of the common men upon every occasion, claiming that the +interests of the many were superior to the privileges of the few. +In a word, Crassus, if you could imagine a free-booting Gracchus on one +side, and two piratical Patricians upon the other, you would understand +the effect which my companions produced upon me. + +There was one peculiarity which I observed in their conversation which +soothed me very much. I am fond of these Britons, among whom I have +spent so much of my life, and I wish them well. It was very pleasing, +therefore, to notice that these men insisted upon it in their +conversation that the whole object of their visit was the good of the +Islanders. Any prospect of advantage to themselves was pushed into the +background. I was not clear that these professions could be made to +agree with the speech in which Kenna had promised a hundred hides of +land to every man on the ship; but on my making this remark, the three +chiefs seemed very surprised and hurt by my suspicions, and explained +very plausibly that, as the Britons needed them as a guard, they could +not aid them better than by settling on the soil, and so being +continually at hand in order to help them. In time, they said, they +hoped to raise and train the natives to such a point that they would be +able to look after themselves. Lanc spoke with some degree of eloquence +upon the nobleness of the mission which they had undertaken, and the +others clattered their cups of mead (a jar of that unpleasant drink was +on the table) in token of their agreement. + +I observed also how much interested, and how very earnest and intolerant +these Barbarians were in the matter of religion. Of Christianity they +knew nothing, so that although they were aware that the Britons were +Christians, they had not a notion of what their creed really was. +Yet without examination they started by taking it for granted that their +own worship of Woden was absolutely right, and that therefore this other +creed must be absolutely wrong. "This vile religion," "This sad +superstition," and "This grievous error," were among the phrases which +they used towards it. Instead of expressing pity for any one who had +been misinformed upon so serious a question, their feelings were those +of anger, and they declared most earnestly that they would spare no +pains to set the matter right, fingering the hilts of their long +broad-swords as they said so. + +Well, my dear Crassus, you will have had enough of me and of my Saxons. +I have given you a short sketch of these people and their ways. Since I +began this letter, I have visited the two other ships which have come +in, and as I find the same characteristics among the people on board +them, I cannot doubt that they lie deeply in the race. For the rest, +they are brave, hardy, and very pertinacious in all that +they undertake; whereas the Britons, though a great deal more spirited, +have not the same steadiness of purpose, their quicker imaginations +suggesting always some other course, and their more fiery passions being +succeeded by reaction. When I looked from the deck of the first Saxon +ship, and saw the swaying excited multitude of Britons on the beach, +contrasting them with the intent, silent men who stood beside me, it +seemed to me more than ever dangerous to call in such allies. +So strongly did I feel it that I turned to Kenna, who was also looking +towards the beach. + +"You will own this island before you have finished," said I. + +His eyes sparkled as he gazed. "Perhaps," he cried; and then suddenly +collecting himself and thinking that he had said too much, he added-- + +"A temporary occupation--nothing more." + + + +THE HOME-COMING + + +In the spring of the year 528, a small brig used to run as a passenger +boat between Chalcedon on the Asiatic shore and Constantinople. On the +morning in question, which was that of the feast of Saint George, +the vessel was crowded with excursionists who were bound for the great +city in order to take part in the religious and festive celebrations +which marked the festival of the Megalo-martyr, one of the most choice +occasions in the whole vast hagiology of the Eastern Church. The day +was fine and the breeze light, so that the passengers in their holiday +mood were able to enjoy without a qualm the many objects of interest +which marked the approach to the greatest and most beautiful capital in +the world. + +On the right, as they sped up the narrow strait, there stretched the +Asiatic shore, sprinkled with white villages and with numerous villas +peeping out from the woods which adorned it. In front of them, the +Prince's Islands, rising as green as emeralds out of the deep sapphire +blue of the Sea of Marmora, obscured for the moment the view of the +capital. As the brig rounded these, the great city burst suddenly upon +their sight, and a murmur of admiration and wonder rose from the crowded +deck. Tier above tier it rose, white and glittering, a hundred brazen +roofs and gilded statues gleaming in the sun, with high over all the +magnificent shining cupola of Saint Sophia. Seen against a cloudless +sky, it was the city of a dream-too delicate, too airily lovely for +earth. + +In the prow of the small vessel were two travellers of singular +appearance. The one was a very beautiful boy, ten or twelve years of +age, swarthy, clear-cut, with dark, curling hair and vivacious black +eyes, full of intelligence and of the joy of living. The other was an +elderly man, gaunt-faced and grey-bearded, whose stern features were lit +up by a smile as he observed the excitement and interest with which his +young companion viewed the beautiful distant city and the many vessels +which thronged the narrow strait. + +"See! see!" cried the lad. "Look at the great red ships which sail out +from yonder harbour. Surely, your holiness, they are the greatest of +all ships in the world." + +The old man, who was the abbot of the monastery of Saint Nicephorus in +Antioch, laid his hand upon the boy's shoulder. + +"Be wary, Leon, and speak less loudly, for until we have seen your +mother we should keep ourselves secret. As to the red galleys they are +indeed as large as any, for they are the Imperial ships of war, which +come forth from the harbour of Theodosius. Round yonder green point is +the Golden Horn, where the merchant ships are moored. But now, Leon, if +you follow the line of buildings past the great church, you will see a +long row of pillars fronting the sea. It marks the Palace of the +Caesars." + +The boy looked at it with fixed attention. "And my mother is there," he +whispered. + +"Yes, Leon, your mother the Empress Theodora and her husband the great +Justinian dwell in yonder palace." + +The boy looked wistfully up into the old man's face. + +"Are you sure, Father Luke, that my mother will indeed be glad to see +me?" + +The abbot turned away his face to avoid those questioning eyes. + +"We cannot tell, Leon. We can only try. If it should prove that there +is no place for you, then there is always a welcome among the brethren +of Saint Nicephorus." + +"Why did you not tell my mother that we were coming, Father Luke? +Why did you not wait until you had her command?" + +"At a distance, Leon, it would be easy to refuse you. An Imperial +messenger would have stopped us. But when she sees you, Leon--your +eyes, so like her own, your face, which carries memories of one whom she +loved--then, if there be a woman's heart within her bosom, she will take +you into it. They say that the Emperor can refuse her nothing. +They have no child of their own. There is a great future before you, +Leon. When it comes, do not forget the poor brethren of Saint +Nicephorus, who took you in when you had no friend in the world." + +The old abbot spoke cheerily, but it was easy to see from his anxious +countenance that the nearer he came to the capital the more doubtful did +his errand appear. What had seemed easy and natural from the quiet +cloisters of Antioch became dubious and dark now that the golden domes +of Constantinople glittered so close at hand. Ten years before, a +wretched woman, whose very name was an offence throughout the eastern +world where she was as infamous for her dishonour as famous for her +beauty, had come to the monastery gate, and had persuaded the monks to +take charge of her infant son, the child of her shame. There he had +been ever since. But she, Theodora, the harlot, returning to the +capital, had by the strangest turn of Fortune's wheel caught the fancy +and finally the enduring love of Justinian the heir to the throne. +Then on the death of his uncle Justin, the young man had become the +greatest monarch upon the earth, and had raised Theodora to be not only +his wife and Empress, but to be absolute ruler with powers equal to and +independent of his own. And she, the polluted one, had risen to the +dignity, had cut herself sternly away from all that related to her past +life, and had shown signs already of being a great Queen, stronger and +wiser than her husband, but fierce, vindictive, and unbending, a firm +support to her friends, but a terror to her foes. This was the woman to +whom the Abbot Luke of Antioch was bringing Leon, her forgotten son. +If ever her mind strayed back to the days when, abandoned by her lover +Ecebolus, the Governor of the African Pentapolis, she had made her way +on foot through Asia Minor, and left her infant with the monks, it was +only to persuade herself that the brethren cloistered far from the world +would never identify Theodora the Empress with Theodora the dissolute +wanderer, and that the fruits of her sin would be for ever concealed +from her Imperial husband. + +The little brig had now rounded the point of the Acropolis, and the long +blue stretch of the Golden Horn lay before it. The high wall of +Theodosius lined the whole harbour, but a narrow verge of land had been +left between it and the water's edge to serve as a quay. The vessel ran +alongside near the Neorion Gate, and the passengers, after a short +scrutiny from the group of helmeted guards who lounged beside it, were +allowed to pass through into the great city. + +The abbot, who had made several visits to Constantinople upon the +business of his monastery, walked with the assured step of one who knows +his ground; while the boy, alarmed and yet pleased by the rush of +people, the roar and glitter of passing chariots, and the vista of +magnificent buildings, held tightly to the loose gown of his guide, +while staring eagerly about him in every direction. Passing through the +steep and narrow streets which led up from the water, they emerged into +the open space which surrounds the magnificent pile of Saint Sophia, the +great church begun by Constantine, hallowed by Saint Chrysostom, and now +the seat of the Patriarch, and the very centre of the Eastern Church. +Only with many crossings and genuflections did the pious abbot succeed +in passing the revered shrine of his religion, and hurried on to his +difficult task. + +Having passed Saint Sophia, the two travellers crossed the marble-paved +Augusteum, and saw upon their right the gilded gates of the hippodrome +through which a vast crowd of people was pressing, for though the +morning had been devoted to the religious ceremony, the afternoon was +given over to secular festivities. So great was the rush of the +populace that the two strangers had some difficulty in disengaging +themselves from the stream and reaching the huge arch of black marble +which formed the outer gate of the palace. Within they were fiercely +ordered to halt by a gold-crested and magnificent sentinel who laid his +shining spear across their breasts until his superior officer should +give them permission to pass. The abbot had been warned, however, +that all obstacles would give way if he mentioned the name of Basil the +eunuch, who acted as chamberlain of the palace and also as Parakimomen-- +a high office which meant that he slept at the door of the Imperial +bed-chamber. The charm worked wonderfully, for at the mention of that +potent name the Protosphathaire, or Head of the Palace Guards, who +chanced to be upon the spot, immediately detached one of his soldiers +with instructions to convoy the two strangers into the presence of the +chamberlain. + +Passing in succession a middle guard and an inner guard, the travellers +came at last into the palace proper, and followed their majestic guide +from chamber to chamber, each more wonderful than the last. Marbles and +gold, velvet and silver, glittering mosaics, wonderful carvings, ivory +screens, curtains of Armenian tissue and of Indian silk, damask from +Arabia, and amber from the Baltic--all these things merged themselves in +the minds of the two simple provincials, until their eyes ached and +their senses reeled before the blaze and the glory of this, the most +magnificent of the dwellings of man. Finally, a pair of curtains, +crusted with gold, were parted, and their guide handed them over to a +negro mute who stood within. A heavy, fat, brown-skinned man, with a +large, flabby, hairless face was pacing up and down the small apartment, +and he turned upon them as they entered with an abominable and +threatening smile. His loose lips and pendulous cheeks were those of a +gross old woman, but above them there shone a pair of dark malignant +eyes, full of fierce intensity of observation and judgment. + +"You have entered the palace by using my name," he said. "It is one of +my boasts that any of the populace can approach me in this way. But it +is not fortunate for those who take advantage of it without due cause." +Again he smiled a smile which made the frightened boy cling tightly to +the loose serge skirts of the abbot. + +But the ecclesiastic was a man of courage. Undaunted by the sinister +appearance of the great chamberlain, or by the threat which lay in his +words, he laid his hand upon his young companion's shoulder and faced +the eunuch with a confidential smile. + +"I have no doubt, your excellency," said he, "that the importance of my +mission has given me the right to enter the palace. The only thing +which troubles me is whether it may not be so important as to forbid me +from broaching it to you, or indeed, to anybody save the Empress +Theodora, since it is she only whom it concerns." + +The eunuch's thick eyebrows bunched together over his vicious eyes. + +"You must make good those words," he said. "If my gracious master--the +ever-glorious Emperor Justinian--does not disdain to take me into his +most intimate confidence in all things, it would be strange if there +were any subject within your knowledge which I might not hear. You are, +as I gather from your garb and bearing, the abbot of some Asiatic +monastery?" + +"You are right, your excellency, I am the abbot of the Monastery of St. +Nicephorus in Antioch. But I repeat that I am assured that what I have +to say is for the ear of the Empress Theodora only." + +The eunuch was evidently puzzled, and his curiosity aroused by the old +man's persistence. He came nearer, his heavy face thrust forward, his +flabby brown hands, like two sponges, resting upon the table of yellow +jasper before him. + +"Old man," said he, "there is no secret which concerns the Empress +which may not be told to me. But if you refuse to speak, it is certain +that you will never see her. Why should I admit you, unless I know your +errand? How should I know that you are not a Manichean heretic with a +poniard in your bosom, longing for the blood of the mother of the +Church?" + +The abbot hesitated no longer. "If there be a mistake in the matter, +then on your head be it," said he. "Know then that this lad Leon is the +son of Theodora the Empress, left by her in our monastery within a month +of his birth ten years ago. This papyrus which I hand you will show you +that what I say is beyond all question or doubt." + +The eunuch Basil took the paper, but his eyes were fixed upon the boy, +and his features showed a mixture of amazement at the news that he had +received, and of cunning speculation as to how he could turn it to +profit. + +"Indeed, he is the very image of the Empress," he muttered; and then, +with sudden suspicion, "Is it not the chance of this likeness which has +put the scheme into your head, old man?" + +"There is but one way to answer that," said the abbot. "It is to ask +the Empress herself whether what I say is not true, and to give her the +glad tidings that her boy is alive and well." + +The tone of confidence, together with the testimony of the papyrus, and +the boy's beautiful face, removed the last shadow of doubt from the +eunuch's mind. Here was a great fact; but what use could he make of it? +Above all, what advantage could he draw from it? He stood with his fat +chin in his hand, turning it over in his cunning brain. + +"Old man," said he at last, "to how many have you told this secret?" + +"To no one in the whole world," the other answered. "There is Deacon +Bardas at the monastery and myself. No one else knows anything." + +"You are sure of this?" + +"Absolutely certain." + +The eunuch had made up his mind. If he alone of all men in the palace +knew of this event, he would have a powerful hold over his masterful +mistress. He was certain that Justinian the Emperor knew nothing of +this. It would be a shock to him. It might even alienate his +affections from his wife. She might care to take precautions to prevent +him from knowing. And if he, Basil the eunuch, was her confederate in +those precautions, then how very close it must draw him to her. +All this flashed through his mind as he stood, the papyrus in his hand, +looking at the old man and the boy. + +"Stay here," said he. "I will be with you again." With a swift rustle +of his silken robes he swept from the chamber. + +A few minutes had elapsed when a curtain at the end of the room was +pushed aside, and the eunuch, reappearing, held it back, doubling his +unwieldy body into a profound obeisance as he did so. Through the gap +came a small alert woman, clad in golden tissue, with a loose outer +mantle and shoes of the Imperial purple. That colour alone showed that +she could be none other than the Empress; but the dignity of her +carriage, the fierce authority of her magnificent dark eyes, and the +perfect beauty of her haughty face, all proclaimed that it could only be +that Theodora who, in spite of her lowly origin, was the most majestic +as well as the most maturely lovely of all the women in her kingdom. +Gone now were the buffoon tricks which the daughter of Acacius the +bearward had learned in the amphitheatre; gone too was the light charm +of the wanton, and what was left was the worthy mate of a great king, +the measured dignity of one who was every inch an empress. + +Disregarding the two men, Theodora walked up to the boy, placed her two +white hands upon his shoulders, and looked with a long questioning gaze, +a gaze which began with hard suspicion and ended with tender +recognition, into those large lustrous eyes which were the very +reflection of her own. At first the sensitive lad was chilled by the +cold intent question of the look; but as it softened, his own spirit +responded, until suddenly, with a cry of "Mother! mother!" he cast +himself into her arms, his hands locked round her neck, his face buried +in her bosom. Carried away by the sudden natural outburst of emotion, +her own arms tightened round the lad's figure, and she strained him for +an instant to her heart. Then, the strength of the Empress gaining +instant command over the temporary weakness of the mother, she pushed +him back from her, and waved that they should leave her to herself. +The slaves in attendance hurried the two visitors from the room. Basil +the eunuch lingered, looking down at his mistress, who had thrown +herself upon a damask couch, her lips white and her bosom heaving with +the tumult of her emotion. She glanced up and met the chancellor's +crafty gaze, her woman's instinct reading the threat that lurked within +it. + +"I am in your power," she said. "The Emperor must never know of this." + +"I am your slave," said the eunuch, with his ambiguous smile. "I am an +instrument in your hand. If it is your will that the Emperor should +know nothing, then who is to tell him?" + +"But the monk, the boy? What are we to do?" + +"There is only one way for safety," said the eunuch. + +She looked at him with horrified eyes. His spongy hands were pointing +down to the floor. There was an underground world to this beautiful +palace, a shadow that was ever close to the light, a region of dimly-lit +passages, of shadowed corners, of noiseless, tongueless slaves, of +sudden, sharp screams in the darkness. To this the eunuch was pointing. + +A terrible struggle rent her breast. The beautiful boy was hers, flesh +of her flesh, bone of her bone. She knew it beyond all question or +doubt. It was her one child, and her whole heart went out to him. +But Justinian! She knew the Emperor's strange limitations. Her career +in the past was forgotten. He had swept it all aside by special +Imperial decree published throughout the Empire, as if she were new-born +through the power of his will, and her association with his person. +But they were childless, and this sight of one which was not his own +would cut him to the quick. He could dismiss her infamous past from his +mind, but if it took the concrete shape of this beautiful child, then +how could he wave it aside as if it had never been? All her instincts +and her intimate knowledge of the man told her that even her charm, and +her influence might fail under such circumstances to save her from ruin. +Her divorce would be as easy to him as her elevation had been. She was +balanced upon a giddy pinnacle, the highest in the world, and yet the +higher the deeper the fall. Everything that earth could give was now at +her feet. Was she to risk the losing of it all--for what? For a +weakness which was unworthy of an Empress, for a foolish new-born spasm +of love, for that which had no existence within her in the morning? +How could she be so foolish as to risk losing such a substance for such +a shadow? + +"Leave it to me," said the brown watchful face above her. + +"Must it be--death?" + +"There is no real safety outside. But if your heart is too merciful, +then by the loss of sight and speech--" + +She saw in her mind the white-hot iron approaching those glorious eyes, +and she shuddered at the thought. + +"No, no! Better death than that!" + +"Let it be death then. You are wise, great Empress, for there only is +real safety and assurance of silence." + +"And the monk?" + +"Him also." + +"But the Holy Synod? He is a tonsured priest. What would the Patriarch +do?" + +"Silence his babbling tongue. Then let them do what they will. How are +we of the palace to know that this conspirator, taken with a dagger in +his sleeve, is really what he says?" + +Again she shuddered and shrank down among the cushions. + +"Speak not of it, think not of it," said the eunuch. "Say only that you +leave it in my hands. Nay, then, if you cannot say it, do but nod your +head, and I take it as your signal." + +In that moment there flashed before Theodora's mind a vision of all her +enemies, of all those who envied her rise, of all whose hatred and +contempt would rise into a clamour of delight could they see the +daughter of the bearward hurled down again into that abyss from which +she had been dragged. Her face hardened, her lips tightened, her little +hands clenched in the agony of her thought. "Do it!" she said. + +In an instant, with a terrible smile, the messenger of death hurried +from the room. She groaned aloud, and buried herself yet deeper amid +the silken cushions, clutching them frantically with convulsed and +twitching hands. + +The eunuch wasted no time, for this deed, once done, he became--save for +some insignificant monk in Asia Minor, whose fate would soon be sealed-- +the only sharer of Theodora's secret, and therefore the only person who +could curb and bend that most imperious nature. Hurrying into the +chamber where the visitors were waiting, he gave a sinister signal, +only too well known in those iron days. In an instant the black mutes +in attendance seized the old man and the boy, pushing them swiftly down +a passage and into a meaner portion of the palace, where the heavy smell +of luscious cooking proclaimed the neighbourhood of the kitchens. +A side corridor led to a heavily-barred iron door, and this in turn +opened upon a steep flight of stone steps, feebly illuminated by the +glimmer of wall lamps. At the head and foot stood a mute sentinel like +an ebony statue, and below, along the dusky and forbidding passages from +which the cells opened, a succession of niches in the wall were each +occupied by a similar guardian. The unfortunate visitors were dragged +brutally down a number of stone-flagged and dismal corridors until they +descended another long stair which led so deeply into the earth that the +damp feeling in the heavy air and the drip of water all round showed +that they had come down to the level of the sea. Groans and cries, like +those of sick animals, from the various grated doors which they passed +showed how many there were who spent their whole lives in this humid and +poisonous atmosphere. + +At the end of this lowest passage was a door which opened into a single +large vaulted room. It was devoid of furniture, but in the centre was a +large and heavy wooden board clamped with iron. This lay upon a rude +stone parapet, engraved with inscriptions beyond the wit of the eastern +scholars, for this old well dated from a time before the Greeks founded +Byzantium, when men of Chaldea and Phoenicia built with huge unmortared +blocks, far below the level of the town of Constantine. The door was +closed, and the eunuch beckoned to the slaves that they should remove +the slab which covered the well of death. The frightened boy screamed +and clung to the abbot, who, ashy-pale and trembling, was pleading hard +to melt the heart of the ferocious eunuch. + +"Surely, surely, you would not slay the innocent boy!" he cried. "What +has he done? Was it his fault that he came here? I alone--I and Deacon +Bardas--are to blame. Punish us, if some one must indeed be punished. +We are old. It is today or tomorrow with us. But he is so young and +so beautiful, with all his life before him. Oh, sir! oh, your +excellency, you would not have the heart to hurt him!" + +He threw himself down and clutched at the eunuch's knees, while the boy +sobbed piteously and cast horror-stricken eyes at the black slaves who +were tearing the wooden slab from the ancient parapet beneath. The only +answer which the chamberlain gave to the frantic pleadings of the abbot +was to take a stone which lay on the coping of the well and toss it in. +It could be heard clattering against the old, damp, mildewed walls, +until it fell with a hollow boom into some far distant subterranean +pool. Then he again motioned with his hands, and the black slaves threw +themselves upon the boy and dragged him away from his guardian. +So shrill was his clamour that no one heard the approach of the Empress. +With a swift rush she had entered the room, and her arms were round her +son. + +"It shall not be! It cannot be!" she cried. "No, no, my darling! my +darling! they shall do you no hurt. I was mad to think of it--mad and +wicked to dream of it. Oh, my sweet boy! To think that your mother +might have had your blood upon her head!" + +The eunuch's brows were gathered together at this failure of his plans, +at this fresh example of feminine caprice. + +"Why kill them, great lady, if it pains your gracious heart?" said he." +With a knife and a branding iron they can be disarmed for ever." + +She paid no attention to his words. "Kiss me, Leon!" she cried. "Just +once let me feel my own child's soft lips rest upon mine. Now again! +No, no more, or I shall weaken for what I have still to say and still to +do. Old man, you are very near a natural grave, and I cannot think from +your venerable aspect that words of falsehood would come +readily to your lips. You have indeed kept my secret all these years, +have you not?" + +"I have in very truth, great Empress. I swear to you by Saint +Nicephorus, patron of our house, that, save old Deacon Bardas, there is +none who knows." + +"Then let your lips still be sealed. If you have kept faith in the +past, I see no reason why you should be a babbler in the future. And +you, Leon"--she bent her wonderful eyes with a strange mixture of +sternness and of love upon the boy, "can I trust you? Will you keep a +secret which could never help you, but would be the ruin and downfall of +your mother?" + +"Oh, mother, I would not hurt you! I swear that I will be silent." + +"Then I trust you both. Such provision will be made for your monastery +and for your own personal comforts as will make you bless the day you +came to my palace. Now you may go. I wish never to see you again. +If I did, you might find me in a softer mood, or in a harder, and the +one would lead to my undoing, the other to yours. But if by whisper or +rumour I have reason to think that you have failed me, then you and your +monks and your monastery will have such an end as will be a lesson for +ever to those who would break faith with their Empress." + +"I will never speak," said the old abbot; "neither will Deacon Bardas; +neither will Leon. For all three I can answer. But there are others-- +these slaves, the chancellor. We may be punished for another's fault." + +"Not so," said the Empress, and her eyes were like flints. "These +slaves are voiceless; nor have they any means to tell those secrets +which they know. As to you, Basil--" She raised her white hand +with the same deadly gesture which he had himself used so short a time +before. The black slaves were on him like hounds on a stag. + +"Oh, my gracious mistress, dear lady, what is this? What is this? +You cannot mean it!" he screamed, in his high, cracked voice. "Oh, what +have I done? Why should I die?" + +"You have turned me against my own. You have goaded me to slay my own +son. You have intended to use my secret against me. I read it in your +eyes from the first. Cruel, murderous villain, taste the fate which you +have yourself given to so many others. This is your doom. I have +spoken." + +The old man and the boy hurried in horror from the vault. As they +glanced back they saw the erect inflexible, shimmering, gold-clad figure +of the Empress. Beyond they had a glimpse of the green-scummed lining +of the well, and of the great red open mouth of the eunuch, as he +screamed and prayed while every tug of the straining slaves brought him +one step nearer to the brink. With their hands over their ears they +rushed away, but even so they heard that last woman-like shriek, and +then the heavy plunge far down in the dark abysses of the earth. + + + +THE RED STAR + + +The house of Theodosius, the famous eastern merchant, was in the best +part of Constantinople at the Sea Point which is near the Church of +Saint Demetrius. Here he would entertain in so princely a fashion that +even the Emperor Maurice had been known to come privately from the +neighbouring Bucoleon palace in order to join in the revelry. On the +night in question, however, which was the fourth of November in the year +of our Lord 630, his numerous guests had retired early, and there +remained only two intimates, both of them successful merchants like +himself, who sat with him over their wine on the marble verandah of his +house, whence on the one side they could see the lights of the shipping +in the Sea of Marmora, and on the other the beacons which marked out the +course of the Bosphorus. Immediately at their feet lay a narrow strait +of water, with the low, dark loom of the Asiatic hills beyond. A thin +haze hid the heavens, but away to the south a single great red star +burned sullenly in the darkness. + +The night was cool, the light was soothing, and the three men talked +freely, letting their minds drift back into the earlier days when they +had staked their capital, and often their lives, on the ventures which +had built up their present fortunes. The host spoke of his long +journeys in North Africa, the land of the Moors; how he had travelled, +keeping the blue sea ever upon his right, until he had passed the +ruins of Carthage, and so on and ever on until a great tidal ocean beat +upon a yellow strand before him, while on the right he could see the +high rock across the waves which marked the Pillars of Hercules. +His talk was of dark-skinned bearded men, of lions, and of monstrous +serpents. Then Demetrius, the Cilician, an austere man of sixty, told +how he also had built up his mighty wealth. He spoke of a journey over +the Danube and through the country of the fierce Huns, until he and his +friends had found themselves in the mighty forest of Germany, on the +shores of the great river which is called the Elbe. His stories were of +huge men, sluggish of mind, but murderous in their cups, of sudden +midnight broils and nocturnal flights, of villages buried in dense +woods, of bloody heathen sacrifices, and of the bears and wolves who +haunted the forest paths. So the two elder men capped each other's +stories and awoke each other's memories, while Manuel Ducas, the young +merchant of gold and ostrich feathers, whose name was already known all +over the Levant, sat in silence and listened to their talk. At last, +however, they called upon him also for an anecdote, and leaning his +cheek upon his elbow, with his eyes fixed upon the great red star which +burned in the south, the younger man began to speak. + +"It is the sight of that star which brings a story into my mind," said +he. "I do not know its name. Old Lascaris the astronomer would tell me +if I asked, but I have no desire to know. Yet at this time of the year +I always look out for it, and I never fail to see it burning in the same +place. But it seems to me that it is redder and larger than it was. + +"It was some ten years ago that I made an expedition into Abyssinia, +where I traded to such good effect that I set forth on my return with +more than a hundred camel-loads of skins, ivory, gold, spices, and other +African produce. I brought them to the sea-coast at Arsinoe, and +carried them up the Arabian Gulf in five of the small boats of the +country. Finally, I landed near Saba, which is a starting-point for +caravans, and, having assembled my camels and hired a guard of forty men +from the wandering Arabs, I set forth for Macoraba. From this point, +which is the sacred city of the idolaters of those parts, one can always +join the large caravans which go north twice a year to Jerusalem and +the sea-coast of Syria. + +"Our route was a long and weary one. On our left hand was the Arabian +Gulf, lying like a pool of molten metal under the glare of day, but +changing to blood-red as the sun sank each evening behind the distant +African coast. On our right was a monstrous desert which extends, so +far as I know, across the whole of Arabia and away to the distant +kingdom of the Persians. For many days we saw no sign of life save our +own long, straggling line of laden camels with their tattered, swarthy +guardians. In these deserts the soft sand deadens the footfall of the +animals, so that their silent progress day after day through a scene +which never changes, and which is itself noiseless, becomes at last like +a strange dream. Often as I rode behind my caravan, and gazed at the +grotesque figures which bore my wares in front of me, I found it hard to +believe that it was indeed reality, and that it was I, I, Manuel Ducas, +who lived near the Theodosian Gate of Constantinople, and shouted for +the Green at the hippodrome every Sunday afternoon, who was there in so +strange a land and with such singular comrades. + +"Now and then, far out at sea, we caught sight of the white triangular +sails of the boats which these people use, but as they are all pirates, +we were very glad to be safely upon shore. Once or twice, too, by the +water's edge we saw dwarfish creatures-one could scarcely say if they +were men or monkeys--who burrow for homes among the seaweed, drink the +pools of brackish water, and eat what they can catch. These are the +fish-eaters, the Ichthyophagi, of whom old Herodotus talks--surely the +lowest of all the human race. Our Arabs shrank from them with horror, +for it is well known that, should you die in the desert, these little +people will settle on you like carrion crows, and leave not a bone +unpicked. They gibbered and croaked and waved their skinny arms at us +as we passed, knowing well that they could swim far out to sea if we +attempted to pursue them; for it is said that even the sharks turn with +disgust from their foul bodies. + +"We had travelled in this way for ten days, camping every evening at the +vile wells which offered a small quantity of abominable water. It was +our habit to rise very early and to travel very late, but to halt during +the intolerable heat of the afternoon, when, for want of trees, we would +crouch in the shadow of a sandhill, or, if that were wanting, behind +our own camels and merchandise, in order to escape from the insufferable +glare of the sun. On the seventh day we were near the point where one +leaves the coast in order to strike inland to Macoraba. We had +concluded our midday halt, and were just starting once more, the sun +still being so hot that we could hardly bear it, when, looking up, I saw +a remarkable sight. Standing on a hillock to our right there was a man +about forty feet high, holding in his hand a spear which was the size of +the mast of a large ship. You look surprised, my friends, and you can +therefore imagine my feelings when I saw such a sight. But my reason +soon told me that the object in front of me was really a wandering Arab, +whose form had been enormously magnified by the strange distorting +effects which the hot air of the desert is able to cause. + +"However, the actual apparition caused more alarm to my companions than +the imagined one had to me, for with a howl of dismay they shrank +together into a frightened group, all pointing and gesticulating as they +gazed at the distant figure. I then observed that the man was not +alone, but that from all the sandhills a line of turbaned heads was +gazing down upon us. The chief of the escort came running to me, and +informed me of the cause of their terror, which was that they +recognized, by some peculiarity of their headgear, that these men +belonged to the tribe of the Dilwas, the most ferocious and unscrupulous +of the Bedouin, who had evidently laid an ambuscade for us at this point +with the intention of seizing our caravan. When I thought of all my +efforts in Abyssinia, of the length of my journey and of the dangers and +fatigues which I had endured, I could not bear to think of this total +disaster coming upon me at the last instant and robbing me not only of +my profits, but also of my original outlay. It was evident, however, +that the robbers were too numerous for us to attempt to defend +ourselves, and that we should be very fortunate if we escaped with our +lives. Sitting upon a packet, therefore, I commended my soul to our +blessed Saint Helena, while I watched with despairing eyes the stealthy +and menacing approach of the Arab robbers. + +"It may have been our own good fortune, or it may have been the handsome +offering of beeswax candles--four to the pound--which I had mentally +vowed to the blessed Helena, but at that instant I heard a great outcry +of joy from among my own followers. Standing up on the packet that I +might have a better view, I was overjoyed to see a long caravan--five +hundred camels at least-with a numerous armed guard coming along the +route from Macoraba. It is, I need not tell you, the custom of all +caravans to combine their forces against the robbers of the desert, and +with the aid of these newcomers we had become the stronger party. +The marauders recognized it at once, for they vanished as if their +native sands had swallowed them. Running up to the summit of a +sandhill, I was just able to catch a glimpse of a dust-cloud whirling +away across the yellow plain, with the long necks of their camels, +the flutter of their loose garments, and the gleam of their spears +breaking out from the heart of it. So vanished the marauders. + +"Presently I found, however, that I had only exchanged one danger for +another. At first I had hoped that this new caravan might belong to +some Roman citizen, or at least to some Syrian Christian, but I found +that it was entirely Arab. The trading Arabs who are settled in the +numerous towns of Arabia are, of course, very much more peaceable than +the Bedouin of the wilderness, those sons of Ishmael of whom we read in +Holy Writ. But the Arab blood is covetous and lawless, so that when +I saw several hundred of them formed in a semi-circle round our camels, +looking with greedy eyes at my boxes of precious metals and my packets +of ostrich feathers, I feared the worst. + +"The leader of the new caravan was a man of dignified bearing and +remarkable appearance. His age I would judge to be about forty. He had +aquiline features, a noble black beard, and eyes so luminous, so +searching, and so intense that I cannot remember in all my wanderings to +have seen any which could be compared with them. To my thanks and +salutations he returned a formal bow, and stood stroking his beard and +looking in silence at the wealth which had suddenly fallen into his +power. A murmur from his followers showed the eagerness with which they +awaited the order to tall upon the plunder, and a young ruffian, who +seemed to be on intimate terms with the leader, came to his elbow and +put the desires of his companions into words. + +"'Surely, oh Revered One,' said he, 'these people and their treasure +have been delivered into our hands. When we return with it to the holy +place, who of all the Koraish will fail to see the finger of God which +has led us?' + +"But the leader shook his head. 'Nay, Ali, it may not be,' he answered. +'This man is, as I judge, a citizen of Rome, and we may not treat him as +though he were an idolater.' + +"'But he is an unbeliever,' cried the youth, fingering a great knife +which hung in his belt. 'Were I to be the judge, he would lose not only +his merchandise, but his life also, if he did not accept the faith.' + +"The older man smiled and shook his head. 'Nay, Ali; you are too +hot-headed,' said he, 'seeing that there are not as yet three hundred +faithful in the world, our hands would indeed be full if we were to take +the lives and property of all who are not with us. Forget not, dear +lad, that charity and honesty are the very nose-ring and halter of the +true faith.' + +"'Among the faithful,' said the ferocious youth. + +"'Nay, towards every one. It is the law of Allah. And yet'--here his +countenance darkened, and his eyes shone with a most sinister light-- +'the day may soon come when the hour of grace is past, and woe, then, to +those who have not hearkened! Then shall the sword of Allah be drawn, +and it shall not be sheathed until the harvest is reaped. First it +shall strike the idolaters on the day when my own people and kinsmen, +the unbelieving Koraish, shall be scattered, and the three hundred and +sixty idols of the Caaba thrust out upon the dungheaps of the town. +Then shall the Caaba be the home and temple of one God only who brooks +no rival on earth or in heaven.' + +"The man's followers had gathered round him, their spears in their +hands, their ardent eyes fixed upon his face, and their dark features +convulsed with such fanatic enthusiasm as showed the hold which he +had upon their love and respect. + +"'We shall be patient,' said he; 'but some time next year, the year +after, the day may come when the great angel Gabriel shall bear me the +message that the time of words has gone by, and that the hour of the +sword has come. We are few and weak, but if it is His will, who can +stand against us? Are you of Jewish faith, stranger?' he asked. + +"I answered that I was not. + +"'The better for you,' he answered, with the same furious anger in his +swarthy face. 'First shall the idolaters fall, and then the Jews, in +that they have not known those very prophets whom they had themselves +foretold. Then last will come the turn of the Christians, who follow +indeed a true Prophet, greater than Moses or Abraham, but who have +sinned in that they have confounded a creature with the Creator. +To each in turn--idolater, Jew, and Christian--the day of reckoning will +come.' + +"The ragamuffins behind him all shook their spears as he spoke. There +was no doubt about their earnestness, but when I looked at their +tattered dresses and simple arms, I could not help smiling to think of +their ambitious threats, and to picture what their fate would be upon +the day of battle before the battle-axes of our Imperial Guards, or the +spears of the heavy cavalry of the Armenian Themes. However, I need not +say that I was discreet enough to keep my thoughts to myself, as I had +no desire to be the first martyr in this fresh attack upon our blessed +faith. + +"It was now evening, and it was decided that the two caravans should +camp together--an arrangement which was the more welcome as we were by +no means sure that we had seen the last of the marauders. I had invited +the leader of the Arabs to have supper with me, and after a long +exercise of prayer with his followers he came to join me, but my attempt +at hospitality was thrown away, for he would not touch the excellent +wine which I had unpacked for him, nor would he eat any of my dainties, +contenting himself with stale bread, dried dates, and water. After this +meal we sat alone by the smouldering fire, the magnificent arch of the +heavens above us of that deep, rich blue with those gleaming, clear-cut +stars which can only be seen in that dry desert air. Our camp lay +before us, and no sound reached our ears save the dull murmur of the +voices of our companions and the occasional shrill cry of a jackal among +the sandhills around us. Face to face I sat with this strange man, the +glow of the fire beating upon his eager and imperious features and +reflecting from his passionate eyes. It was the strangest vigil, and +one which will never pass from my recollection. I have spoken with many +wise and famous men upon my travels, but never with one who left the +impression of this one. + +"And yet much of his talk was unintelligible to me, though, as you are +aware, I speak Arabian like an Arab. It rose and fell in the strangest +way. Sometimes it was the babble of a child, sometimes the incoherent +raving of a fanatic, sometimes the lofty dreams of a prophet and +philosopher. There were times when his stories of demons, of miracles, +of dreams, and of omens, were such as an old woman might tell to please +the children of an evening. There were others when, as he talked with +shining face of his converse with angels, of the intentions of the +Creator, and the end of the universe, I felt as if I were in the company +of some one more than mortal, some one who was indeed the direct +messenger of the Most High. + +"There were good reasons why he should treat me with such confidence. +He saw in me a messenger to Constantinople and to the Roman Empire. +Even as Saint Paul had brought Christianity to Europe, so he hoped that +I might carry his doctrines to my native city. Alas! be the doctrines +what they may, I fear that I am not the stuff of which Pauls are made. +Yet he strove with all his heart during that long Arabian night to bring +me over to his belief. He had with him a holy book, written, as he +said, from the dictation of an angel, which he carried in tablets of +bone in the nose-bag of a camel. Some chapters of this he read me; but, +though the precepts were usually good, the language seemed wild and +fanciful. There were times when I could scarce keep my countenance as I +listened to him. He planned out his future movements, and indeed, as +he spoke, it was hard to remember that he was only the wandering leader +of an Arab caravan, and not one of the great ones of the earth. + +"'When God has given me sufficient power, which will be within a few +years,' said he, 'I will unite all Arabia under my banner. Then I will +spread my doctrine over Syria and Egypt. When this has been done, I +will turn to Persia, and give them the choice of the true faith or the +sword. Having taken Persia, it will be easy then to overrun Asia Minor, +and so to make our way to Constantinople.' + +"I bit my lip to keep from laughing. 'And how long will it be before +your victorious troops have reached the Bosphorus?' I asked. + +"'Such things are in the hands of God, whose servants we are,' said he. +'It may be that I shall myself have passed away before these things are +accomplished, but before the days of our children are completed, all +that I have now told you will come to pass. Look at that star,' he +added, pointing to a beautiful clear planet above our heads. +'That is the symbol of Christ. See how serene and peaceful it shines, +like His own teaching and the memory of His life. Now,' he added, +turning his outstretched hand to a dusky red star upon the horizon--the +very one on which we are gazing now--'that is my star, which tells of +wrath, of war, of a scourge upon sinners. And yet both are indeed +stars, and each does as Allah may ordain.' + +"Well, that was the experience which was called to my mind by the sight +of this star tonight. Red and angry, it still broods over the south, +even as I saw it that night in the desert. Somewhere down yonder that +man is working and striving. He may be stabbed by some brother fanatic +or slain in a tribal skirmish. If so, that is the end. But if he +lives, there was that in his eyes and in his presence which tells me +that Mahomet the son of Abdallah--for that was his name--will testify in +some noteworthy fashion to the faith that is in him." + + + + +PART II + + + + +THE SILVER MIRROR + + +Jan. 3.--This affair of White and Wotherspoon's accounts proves to be a +gigantic task. There are twenty thick ledgers to be examined and +checked. Who would be a junior partner? However, it is the first big +bit of business which has been left entirely in my hands. I must +justify it. But it has to be finished so that the lawyers may have the +result in time for the trial. Johnson said this morning that I should +have to get the last figure out before the twentieth of the month. +Good Lord! Well, have at it, and if human brain and nerve can stand the +strain, I'll win out at the other side. It means office-work from ten +to five, and then a second sitting from about eight to one in the +morning. There's drama in an accountant's life. When I find myself +in the still early hours, while all the world sleeps, hunting through +column after column for those missing figures which will turn a +respected alderman into a felon, I understand that it is not such a +prosaic profession after all. + +On Monday I came on the first trace of defalcation. No heavy game +hunter ever got a finer thrill when first he caught sight of the trail +of his quarry. But I look at the twenty ledgers and think of the jungle +through which I have to follow him before I get my kill. Hard work--but +rare sport, too, in a way! I saw the fat fellow once at a City dinner, +his red face glowing above a white napkin. He looked at the little pale +man at the end of the table. He would have been pale too if he could +have seen the task that would be mine. + +Jan. 6.--What perfect nonsense it is for doctors to prescribe rest when +rest is out of the question! Asses! They might as well shout to a man +who has a pack of wolves at his heels that what he wants is absolute +quiet. My figures must be out by a certain date; unless they are so, I +shall lose the chance of my lifetime, so how on earth am I to rest? +I'll take a week or so after the trial. + +Perhaps I was myself a fool to go to the doctor at all. But I get +nervous and highly-strung when I sit alone at my work at night. It's +not a pain--only a sort of fullness of the head with an occasional mist +over the eyes. I thought perhaps some bromide, or chloral, or something +of the kind might do me good. But stop work? It's absurd to ask such a +thing. It's like a long-distance race. You feel queer at first and +your heart thumps and your lungs pant, but if you have only the pluck to +keep on, you get your second wind. I'll stick to my work and wait for +my second wind. If it never comes--all the same, I'll stick to my work. +Two ledgers are done, and I am well on in the third. The rascal has +covered his tracks well, but I pick them up for all that. + +Jan. 9.--I had not meant to go to the doctor again. And yet I have had +to. "Straining my nerves, risking a complete breakdown, even +endangering my sanity." That's a nice sentence to have fired off at +one. Well, I'll stand the strain and I'll take the risk, and so long as +I can sit in my chair and move a pen I'll follow the old sinner's slot. + +By the way, I may as well set down here the queer experience which drove +me this second time to the doctor. I'll keep an exact record of my +symptoms and sensations, because they are interesting in themselves-- +"a curious psycho-physiological study," says the doctor--and also +because I am perfectly certain that when I am through with them they +will all seem blurred and unreal, like some queer dream betwixt sleeping +and waking. So now, while they are fresh, I will just make a note of +them, if only as a change of thought after the endless figures. + +There's an old silver-framed mirror in my room. It was given me by a +friend who had a taste for antiquities, and he, as I happen to know, +picked it up at a sale and had no notion where it came from. It's a +large thing--three feet across and two feet high--and it leans at the +back of a side-table on my left as I write. The frame is flat, about +three inches across, and very old; far too old for hall-marks or other +methods of determining its age. The glass part projects, with a +bevelled edge, and has the magnificent reflecting power which is only, +as it seems to me, to be found in very old mirrors. There's a feeling +of perspective when you look into it such as no modern glass can ever +give. + +The mirror is so situated that as I sit at the table I can usually see +nothing in it but the reflection of the red window curtains. But a +queer thing happened last night. I had been working for some hours, +very much against the grain, with continual bouts of that mistiness of +which I had complained. Again and again I had to stop and clear my +eyes. Well, on one of these occasions I chanced to look at the mirror. +It had the oddest appearance. The red curtains which should have been +reflected in it were no longer there, but the glass seemed to be clouded +and steamy, not on the surface, which glittered like steel, but deep +down in the very grain of it. This opacity, when I stared hard at it, +appeared to slowly rotate this way and that, until it was a thick white +cloud swirling in heavy wreaths. So real and solid was it, and so +reasonable was I, that I remember turning, with the idea that the +curtains were on fire. But everything was deadly still in the room--no +sound save the ticking of the clock, no movement save the slow gyration +of that strange woolly cloud deep in the heart of the old mirror. + +Then, as I looked, the mist, or smoke, or cloud, or whatever one may +call it, seemed to coalesce and solidify at two points quite close +together, and I was aware, with a thrill of interest rather than of +fear, that these were two eyes looking out into the room. A vague +outline of a head I could see--a woman's by the hair, but this was very +shadowy. Only the eyes were quite distinct; such eyes--dark, luminous, +filled with some passionate emotion, fury or horror, I could not say +which. Never have I seen eyes which were so full of intense, vivid +life. They were not fixed upon me, but stared out into the room. +Then as I sat erect, passed my hand over my brow, and made a strong +conscious effort to pull myself together, the dim head faded into the +general opacity, the mirror slowly cleared, and there were the red +curtains once again. + +A sceptic would say, no doubt, that I had dropped asleep over my +figures, and that my experience was a dream. As a matter of fact, I was +never more vividly awake in my life. I was able to argue about it even +as I looked at it, and to tell myself that it was a subjective +impression--a chimera of the nerves--begotten by worry and insomnia. +But why this particular shape? And who is the woman, and what is the +dreadful emotion which I read in those wonderful brown eyes? They come +between me and my work. For the first time I have done less than the +daily tally which I had marked out. Perhaps that is why I have had no +abnormal sensations tonight. Tomorrow I must wake up, come what may. + +Jan. 11.--All well, and good progress with my work. I wind the net, +coil after coil, round that bulky body. But the last smile may remain +with him if my own nerves break over it. The mirror would seem to be a +sort of barometer which marks my brain-pressure. Each night I have +observed that it had clouded before I reached the end of my task. + +Dr. Sinclair (who is, it seems, a bit of a psychologist) was so +interested in my account that he came round this evening to have a look +at the mirror. I had observed that something was scribbled in crabbed +old characters upon the metal-work at the back. He examined this with a +lens, but could make nothing of it. "Sanc. X. Pal." was his final +reading of it, but that did not bring us any farther. He advised me to +put it away into another room; but, after all, whatever I may see in it +is, by his own account only a symptom. It is in the cause that the +danger lies. The twenty ledgers--not the silver mirror--should be +packed away if I could only do it. I'm at the eighth now, so I +progress. + +Jan. 13.-Perhaps it would have been wiser after all if I had packed away +the mirror. I had an extraordinary experience with it last night. +And yet I find it so interesting, so fascinating, that even now I will +keep it in its place. What on earth is the meaning of it all? + +I suppose it was about one in the morning, and I was closing my books +preparatory to staggering off to bed, when I saw her there in front of +me. The stage of mistiness and development must have passed unobserved, +and there she was in all her beauty and passion and distress, as +clear-cut as if she were really in the flesh before me. The figure was +small, but very distinct--so much so that every feature, and every +detail of dress, are stamped in my memory. She is seated on the extreme +left of the mirror. A sort of shadowy figure crouches down beside her-- +I can dimly discern that it is a man--and then behind them is cloud, in +which I see figures--figures which move. It is not a mere picture upon +which I look. It is a scene in life, an actual episode. She crouches +and quivers. The man beside her cowers down. The vague figures make +abrupt movements and gestures. All my fears were swallowed up in my +interest. It was maddening to see so much and not to see more. + +But I can at least describe the woman to the smallest point. She is +very beautiful and quite young--not more than five-and-twenty, I should +judge. Her hair is of a very rich brown, with a warm chestnut shade +fining into gold at the edges. A little flat-pointed cap comes to an +angle in front, and is made of lace edged with pearls. The forehead +is high, too high perhaps for perfect beauty; but one would not have it +otherwise, as it gives a touch of power and strength to what would +otherwise be a softly feminine face. The brows are most delicately +curved over heavy eyelids, and then come those wonderful eyes--so large, +so dark, so full of over-mastering emotion, of rage and horror, +contending with a pride of self-control which holds her from sheer +frenzy! The cheeks are pale, the lips white with agony, the chin and +throat most exquisitely rounded. The figure sits and leans forward in +the chair, straining and rigid, cataleptic with horror. The dress is +black velvet, a jewel gleams like a flame in the breast, and a golden +crucifix smoulders in the shadow of a fold. This is the lady whose +image still lives in the old silver mirror. What dire deed could it be +which has left its impress there, so that now, in another age, if the +spirit of a man be but worn down to it, he may be conscious of its +presence? + +One other detail: On the left side of the skirt of the black dress was, +as I thought at first, a shapeless bunch of white ribbon. Then, as I +looked more intently or as the vision defined itself more clearly, +I perceived what it was. It was the hand of a man, clenched and knotted +in agony, which held on with a convulsive grasp to the fold of the +dress. The rest of the crouching figure was a mere vague outline, +but that strenuous hand shone clear on the dark background, with a +sinister suggestion of tragedy in its frantic clutch. The man is +frightened-horribly frightened. That I can clearly discern. What has +terrified him so? Why does he grip the woman's dress? The answer lies +amongst those moving figures in the background. They have brought +danger both to him and to her. The interest of the thing fascinated me. +I thought no more of its relation to my own nerves. I stared and stared +as if in a theatre. But I could get no farther. The mist thinned. +There were tumultuous movements in which all the figures were vaguely +concerned. Then the mirror was clear once more. + +The doctor says I must drop work for a day, and I can afford to do so, +for I have made good progress lately. It is quite evident that the +visions depend entirely upon my own nervous state, for I sat in front of +the mirror for an hour tonight, with no result whatever. My soothing +day has chased them away. I wonder whether I shall ever penetrate what +they all mean? I examined the mirror this evening under a good light, +and besides the mysterious inscription "Sanc. X. Pal.," I was able to +discern some signs of heraldic marks, very faintly visible upon the +silver. They must be very ancient, as they are almost obliterated. +So far as I could make out, they were three spear-heads, two above and +one below. I will show them to the doctor when he calls tomorrow. + +Jan. 14.--Feel perfectly well again, and I intend that nothing else +shall stop me until my task is finished. The doctor was shown the marks +on the mirror and agreed that they were armorial bearings. He is deeply +interested in all that I have told him, and cross-questioned me closely +on the details. It amuses me to notice how he is torn in two by +conflicting desires--the one that his patient should lose his symptoms, +the other that the medium--for so he regards me--should solve this +mystery of the past. He advised continued rest, but did not oppose me +too violently when I declared that such a thing was out of the question +until the ten remaining ledgers have been checked. + +Jan. 17.--For three nights I have had no experiences--my day of rest has +borne fruit. Only a quarter of my task is left, but I must make a +forced march, for the lawyers are clamouring for their material. I will +give them enough and to spare. I have him fast on a hundred counts. +When they realize what a slippery, cunning rascal he is, I should gain +some credit from the case. False trading accounts, false +balance-sheets, dividends drawn from capital, losses written down as +profits, suppression of working expenses, manipulation of petty cash-- +it is a fine record! + +Jan. 18.--Headaches, nervous twitches, mistiness, fullness of the +temples--all the premonitions of trouble, and the trouble came sure +enough. And yet my real sorrow is not so much that the vision should +come as that it should cease before all is revealed. + +But I saw more tonight. The crouching man was as visible as the lady +whose gown he clutched. He is a little swarthy fellow, with a +black-pointed beard. He has a loose gown of damask trimmed with fur. +The prevailing tints of his dress are red. What a fright the fellow is +in, to be sure! He cowers and shivers and glares back over his +shoulder. There is a small knife in his other hand, but he is far too +tremulous and cowed to use it. Dimly now I begin to see the figures in +the background. Fierce faces, bearded and dark, shape themselves out of +the mist. There is one terrible creature, a skeleton of a man, with +hollow cheeks and eyes sunk in his head. He also has a knife in his +hand. On the right of the woman stands a tall man, very young, with +flaxen hair, his face sullen and dour. The beautiful woman looks up at +him in appeal. So does the man on the ground. This youth seems to be +the arbiter of their fate. The crouching man draws closer and hides +himself in the woman's skirts. The tall youth bends and tries to drag +her away from him. So much I saw last night before the mirror cleared. +Shall I never know what it leads to and whence it comes? It is not a +mere imagination, of that I am very sure. Somewhere, some time, this +scene has been acted, and this old mirror has reflected it. But +when--where? + +Jan. 20.--My work draws to a close, and it is time. I feel a tenseness +within my brain, a sense of intolerable strain, which warns me that +something must give. I have worked myself to the limit. But tonight +should be the last night. With a supreme effort I should finish the +final ledger and complete the case before I rise from my chair. I will +do it. I will. + +Feb. 7.--I did. My God, what an experience! I hardly know if I am +strong enough yet to set it down. + +Let me explain in the first instance that I am writing this in Dr. +Sinclair's private hospital some three weeks after the last entry in my +diary. On the night of January 20 my nervous system finally gave +way, and I remembered nothing afterwards until I found myself three days +ago in this home of rest. And I can rest with a good conscience. +My work was done before I went under. My figures are in the solicitors' +hands. The hunt is over. + +And now I must describe that last night. I had sworn to finish my work, +and so intently did I stick to it, though my head was bursting, that I +would never look up until the last column had been added. And yet it +was fine self-restraint, for all the time I knew that wonderful things +were happening in the mirror. Every nerve in my body told me so. If I +looked up there was an end of my work. So I did not look up till all +was finished. Then, when at last with throbbing temples I threw down my +pen and raised my eyes, what a sight was there! + +The mirror in its silver frame was like a stage, brilliantly lit, in +which a drama was in progress. There was no mist now. The oppression +of my nerves had wrought this amazing clarity. Every feature, every +movement, was as clear-cut as in life. To think that I, a tired +accountant, the most prosaic of mankind, with the account-books of a +swindling bankrupt before me, should be chosen of all the human race to +look upon such a scene! + +It was the same scene and the same figures, but the drama had advanced a +stage. The tall young man was holding the woman in his arms. +She strained away from him and looked up at him with loathing in her +face. They had torn the crouching man away from his hold upon the skirt +of her dress. A dozen of them were round him--savage men, bearded men. +They hacked at him with knives. All seemed to strike him together. +Their arms rose and fell. The blood did not flow from him-it squirted. +His red dress was dabbled in it. He threw himself this way and that, +purple upon crimson, like an over-ripe plum. Still they hacked, and +still the jets shot from him. It was horrible--horrible! They dragged +him kicking to the door. The woman looked over her shoulder at him and +her mouth gaped. I heard nothing, but I knew that she was screaming. +And then, whether it was this nerve-racking vision before me, or +whether, my task finished, all the overwork of the past weeks came in +one crushing weight upon me, the room danced round me, the floor seemed +to sink away beneath my feet, and I remembered no more. In the early +morning my landlady found me stretched senseless before the silver +mirror, but I knew nothing myself until three days ago I awoke in the +deep peace of the doctor's nursing home. + +Feb. 9.--Only today have I told Dr. Sinclair my full experience. He had +not allowed me to speak of such matters before. He listened with an +absorbed interest. "You don't identify this with any well-known scene +in history?" he asked, with suspicion in his eyes. I assured him that I +knew nothing of history. "Have you no idea whence that mirror came and +to whom it once belonged?" he continued. "Have you?" I asked, for he +spoke with meaning. "It's incredible," said he, "and yet how else can +one explain it? The scenes which you described before suggested it, but +now it has gone beyond all range of coincidence. I will bring you some +notes in the evening." + +Later.--He has just left me. Let me set down his words as closely as I +can recall them. He began by laying several musty volumes upon my +bed. + +"These you can consult at your leisure," said he. "I have some notes +here which you can confirm. There is not a doubt that what you have +seen is the murder of Rizzio by the Scottish nobles in the presence of +Mary, which occurred in March, 1566. Your description of the woman is +accurate. The high forehead and heavy eyelids combined with great +beauty could hardly apply to two women. The tall young man was her +husband, Darnley. Rizzio, says the chronicle, 'was dressed in a loose +dressing-gown of furred damask, with hose of russet velvet.' With one +hand he clutched Mary's gown, with the other he held a dagger. +Your fierce, hollow-eyed man was Ruthven, who was new-risen from a bed +of sickness. Every detail is exact." + +"But why to me?" I asked, in bewilderment. "Why of all the human race +to me?" + +"Because you were in the fit mental state to receive the impression. +Because you chanced to own the mirror which gave the impression." + +"The mirror! You think, then, that it was Mary's mirror--that it stood +in the room where the deed was done?" + +"I am convinced that it was Mary's mirror. She had been Queen of +France. Her personal property would be stamped with the Royal arms. +What you took to be three spear-heads were really the lilies of France." + +"And the inscription?" + +"'Sanc. X. Pal.' You can expand it into Sanctae Crucis Palatium. +Some one has made a note upon the mirror as to whence it came. It was +the Palace of the Holy Cross." + +"Holyrood!" I cried. + +"Exactly. Your mirror came from Holyrood. You have had one very +singular experience, and have escaped. I trust that you will never put +yourself into the way of having such another." + + + +THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY + + +Sharkey, the abominable Sharkey, was out again. After two years of the +Coromandel coast, his black barque of death, _The Happy Delivery_, was +prowling off the Spanish Main, while trader and fisher flew for dear +life at the menace of that patched fore-topsail, rising slowly over the +violet rim of the tropical sea. + +As the birds cower when the shadow of the hawk falls athwart the field, +or as the jungle folk crouch and shiver when the coughing cry of the +tiger is heard in the night-time, so through all the busy world of +ships, from the whalers of Nantucket to the tobacco ships of Charleston, +and from the Spanish supply ships of Cadiz to the sugar merchants of the +Main, there spread the rumour of the black curse of the ocean. + +Some hugged the shore, ready to make for the nearest port, while others +struck far out beyond the known lines of commerce, but none were so +stout-hearted that they did not breathe more freely when their +passengers and cargoes were safe under the guns of some mothering fort. + +Through all the islands there ran tales of charred derelicts at sea, of +sudden glares seen afar in the night-time, and of withered bodies +stretched upon the sand of waterless Bahama Keys. All the old signs +were there to show that Sharkey was at his bloody game once more. + +These fair waters and yellow-rimmed, palm-nodding islands are the +traditional home of the sea rover. First it was the gentleman +adventurer, the man of family and honour, who fought as a patriot, +though he was ready to take his payment in Spanish plunder. + +Then, within a century, his debonnaire figure had passed to make room +for the buccaneers, robbers pure and simple, yet with some organized +code of their own, commanded by notable chieftains, and taking in hand +great concerted enterprises. + +They, too, passed with their fleets and their sacking of cities, to make +room for the worst of all, the lonely outcast pirate, the bloody Ishmael +of the seas, at war with the whole human race. This was the vile brood +which the early eighteenth century had spawned forth, and of them all +there was none who could compare in audacity, wickedness, and evil +repute with the unutterable Sharkey. + +It was early in May, in the year 1720, that _The Happy Delivery_ lay +with her fore-yard aback some five leagues west of the Windward Passage, +waiting to see what rich, helpless craft the trade-wind might bring down +to her. + +Three days she had lain there, a sinister black speck, in the centre of +the great sapphire circle of the ocean. Far to the south-east the low +blue hills of Hispaniola showed up on the skyline. + +Hour by hour as he waited without avail, Sharkey's savage temper had +risen, for his arrogant spirit chafed against any contradiction, even +from Fate itself. To his quartermaster, Ned Galloway, he had said that +night, with his odious neighing laugh, that the crew of the next +captured vessel should answer to him for having kept him waiting so +long. + +The cabin of the pirate barque was a good-sized room, hung with much +tarnished finery, and presenting a strange medley of luxury and +disorder. The panelling of carved and polished sandal-wood was blotched +with foul smudges and chipped with bullet-marks fired in some drunken +revelry. + +Rich velvets and laces were heaped upon the brocaded settees, while +metal-work and pictures of great price filled every niche and corner, +for anything which caught the pirate's fancy in the sack of a hundred +vessels was thrown haphazard into his chamber. A rich, soft carpet +covered the floor, but it was mottled with wine-stains and charred with +burned tobacco. + +Above, a great brass hanging-lamp threw a brilliant yellow light upon +this singular apartment, and upon the two men who sat in their +shirt-sleeves with the wine between them, and the cards in their +hands, deep in a game of piquet. Both were smoking long pipes, and the +thin blue reek filled the cabin and floated through the skylight above +them, which, half opened, disclosed a slip of deep violet sky spangled +with great silver stars. + +Ned Galloway, the quartermaster, was a huge New England wastrel, the one +rotten branch upon a goodly Puritan family tree. His robust limbs and +giant frame were the heritage of a long line of God-fearing ancestors, +while his black savage heart was all his own. Bearded to the temples, +with fierce blue eyes, a tangled lion's mane of coarse, dark hair, and +huge gold rings in his ears, he was the idol of the women in every +waterside hell from the Tortugas to Maracaibo on the Main. A red cap, a +blue silken shirt, brown velvet breeches with gaudy knee-ribbons, and +high sea-boots made up the costume of the rover Hercules. + +A very different figure was Captain John Sharkey. His thin, drawn, +clean-shaven face was corpse-like in its pallor, and all the suns of the +Indies could but turn it to a more deathly parchment tint. He was part +bald, with a few lank locks of tow-like hair, and a steep, narrow +forehead. His thin nose jutted sharply forth, and near-set on either +side of it were those filmy blue eyes, red-rimmed like those of a white +bull-terrier, from which strong men winced away in fear and loathing. +His bony hands, with long, thin fingers which quivered ceaselessly like +the antennae of an insect, were toying constantly with the cards and the +heap of gold moidores which lay before him. His dress was of some +sombre drab material, but, indeed, the men who looked upon that fearsome +face had little thought for the costume of its owner. + +The game was brought to a sudden interruption, for the cabin door was +swung rudely open, and two rough fellows--Israel Martin, the boatswain, +and Red Foley, the gunner--rushed into the cabin. In an instant Sharkey +was on his feet with a pistol in either hand and murder in his eyes. + +"Sink you for villains!" he cried. "I see well that if I do not shoot +one of you from time to time you will forget the man I am. What mean +you by entering my cabin as though it were a Wapping alehouse?" + +"Nay, Captain Sharkey," said Martin, with a sullen frown upon his +brick-red face, "it is even such talk as this which has set us by the +ears. We have had enough of it." + +"And more than enough," said Red Foley, the gunner. "There be no mates +aboard a pirate craft, and so the boatswain, the gunner, and the +quarter-master are the officers." + +"Did I gainsay it ?" asked Sharkey with an oath. + +"You have miscalled us and mishandled us before the men, and we scarce +know at this moment why we should risk our lives in fighting for the +cabin and against the foc'sle." + +Sharkey saw that something serious was in the wind. He laid down his +pistols and leaned back in his chair with a flash of his yellow fangs. + +"Nay, this is sad talk," said he, "that two stout fellows who have +emptied many a bottle and cut many a throat with me, should now fall out +over nothing. I know you to be roaring boys who would go with me +against the devil himself if I bid you. Let the steward bring cups and +drown all unkindness between us." + +"It is no time for drinking, Captain Sharkey," said Martin. "The men +are holding council round the mainmast, and may be aft at any minute. +They mean mischief, Captain Sharkey, and we have come to warn you." + +Sharkey sprang for the brass-handled sword which hung from the wall. + +"Sink them for rascals!" he cried. "When I have gutted one or two of +them they may hear reason." + +But the others barred his frantic way to the door. + +"There are forty of them under the lead of Sweetlocks, the master," said +Martin, "and on the open deck they would surely cut you to pieces. +Here within the cabin it may be that we can hold them off at the points +of our pistols." + +He had hardly spoken when there came the tread of many heavy feet upon +the deck. Then there was a pause with no sound but the gentle lipping +of the water against the sides of the pirate vessel. Finally, a +crashing blow as from a pistol-butt fell upon the door, and an instant +afterwards Sweetlocks himself, a tall, dark man, with a deep red +birthmark blazing upon his cheek, strode into the cabin. His swaggering +air sank somewhat as he looked into those pale and filmy eyes. + +"Captain Sharkey," said he, "I come as spokesman of the crew." + +"So I have heard, Sweetlocks," said the captain, softly. "I may live to +rip you the length of your vest for this night's work." + +"That is as it may be, Captain Sharkey," the master answered, "but if +you will look up you will see that I have those at my back who will not +see me mishandled." + +"Cursed if we do!" growled a deep voice from above, and glancing upwards +the officers in the cabin were aware of a line of fierce, bearded, +sun-blackened faces looking down at them through the open skylight. + +"Well, what would you have?" asked Sharkey. "Put it in words, man, and +let us have an end of it." + +"The men think," said Sweetlocks, "that you are the devil himself, and +that there will be no luck for them whilst they sail the sea in such +company. Time was when we did our two or three craft a day, and every +man had women and dollars to his liking, but now for a long week we have +not raised a sail, and save for three beggarly sloops, have taken never +a vessel since we passed the Bahama Bank. Also, they know that you +killed Jack Bartholomew, the carpenter, by beating his head in with a +bucket, so that each of us goes in fear of his life. Also, the rum +has given out, and we are hard put to it for liquor. Also, you sit in +your cabin whilst it is in the articles that you should drink and roar +with the crew. For all these reasons it has been this day in general +meeting decreed--" + +Sharkey had stealthily cocked a pistol under the table, so it may have +been as well for the mutinous master that he never reached the end of +his discourse, for even as he came to it there was a swift patter of +feet upon the deck, and a ship lad, wild with his tidings, rushed into +the room. + +"A craft!" he yelled. "A great craft, and close aboard us!" + +In a flash the quarrel was forgotten, and the pirates were rushing to +quarters. Sure enough, surging slowly down before the gentle +trade-wind, a great full-rigged ship, with all sail set, was close +beside them. + +It was clear that she had come from afar and knew nothing of the ways of +the Caribbean Sea, for she made no effort to avoid the low, dark craft +which lay so close upon her bow, but blundered on as if her mere size +would avail her. + +So daring was she, that for an instant the Rovers, as they flew to loose +the tackles of their guns, and hoisted their battle-lanterns, believed +that a man-of-war had caught them napping. + +But at the sight of her bulging, portless sides and merchant rig a shout +of exultation broke from amongst them, and in an instant they had swung +round their fore-yard, and darting alongside they had grappled with her +and flung a spray of shrieking, cursing ruffians upon her deck. + +Half a dozen seamen of the night-watch were cut down where they stood, +the mate was felled by Sharkey and tossed overboard by Ned Galloway, +and before the sleepers had time to sit up in their berths, the vessel +was in the hands of the pirates. + +The prize proved to be the full-rigged ship _Portobello_--Captain Hardy, +master--bound from London to Kingston in Jamaica, with a cargo of cotton +goods and hoop-iron. + +Having secured their prisoners, all huddled together in a dazed, +distracted group, the pirates spread over the vessel in search of +plunder, handing all that was found to the giant quartermaster, who in +turn passed it over the side of _The Happy Delivery_ and laid it under +guard at the foot of her mainmast. + +The cargo was useless, but there were a thousand guineas in the ship's +strong-box, and there were some eight or ten passengers, three of them +wealthy Jamaica merchants, all bringing home well-filled boxes from +their London visit. + +When all the plunder was gathered, the passengers and crew were dragged +to the waist, and under the cold smile of Sharkey each in turn was +thrown over the side--Sweetlocks standing by the rail and +ham-stringing them with his cutlass as they passed over, lest some +strong swimmer should rise in judgment against them. A portly, +grey-haired woman, the wife of one of the planters, was among the +captives, but she also was thrust screaming and clutching over +the side. + +"Mercy, you hussy!" neighed Sharkey, "you are surely a good twenty years +too old for that." + +The captain of the _Portobello_, a hale, blue-eyed grey-beard, was the +last upon the deck. He stood, a thick-set resolute figure, in the glare +of the lanterns, while Sharkey bowed and smirked before him. + +"One skipper should show courtesy to another," said he, "and sink me if +Captain Sharkey would be behind in good manners! I have held you to the +last, as you see, where a brave man should be; so now, my bully, you +have seen the end of them, and may step over with an easy mind." + +"So I shall, Captain Sharkey," said the old seaman, "for I have done my +duty so far as my power lay. But before I go over I would say a word in +your ear." + +"If it be to soften me, you may save your breath. You have kept us +waiting here for three days, and curse me if one of you shall live!" + +"Nay, it is to tell you what you should know. You have not yet found +what is the true treasure aboard of this ship." + +"Not found it? Sink me, but I will slice your liver, Captain Hardy, if +you do not make good your words! Where is this treasure you speak of?" +"It is not a treasure of gold, but it is a fair maid, which may be no +less welcome." + +"Where is she, then? And why is she not with the others?" + +"I will tell you why she is not with the others. She is the only +daughter of the Count and Countess Ramirez, who are amongst those whom +you have murdered. Her name is Inez Ramirez, and she is of the best +blood of Spain, her father being Governor of Chagre, to which he was now +bound. It chanced that she was found to have formed an attachment, +as maids will, to one far beneath her in rank aboard this ship; so her +parents, being people of great power, whose word is not to be gainsaid, +constrained me to confine her close in a special cabin aft of my own. +Here she was held straitly, all food being carried to her, and she +allowed to see no one. This I tell you as a last gift, though why I +should make it to you I do not know, for indeed you are a most bloody +rascal, and it comforts me in dying to think that you will surely be +gallow's-meat in this world, and hell's-meat in the next." + +At the words he ran to the rail, and vaulted over into the darkness, +praying as he sank into the depths of the sea, that the betrayal of this +maid might not be counted too heavily against his soul. + +The body of Captain Hardy had not yet settled upon the sand forty +fathoms deep before the pirates had rushed along the cabin gangway. +There, sure enough, at the further end, was a barred door, overlooked in +their previous search. There was no key, but they beat it in with their +gunstocks, whilst shriek after shriek came from within. In the light +of their outstretched lanterns they saw a young woman, in the very prime +and fullness of her youth, crouching in a corner, her unkempt hair +hanging to the ground, her dark eyes glaring with fear, her lovely form +straining away in horror from this inrush of savage blood-stained men. +Rough hands seized her, she was jerked to her feet, and dragged with +scream on scream to where John Sharkey awaited her. He held the light +long and fondly to her face, then, laughing loudly, he bent forward and +left his red hand-print upon her cheek. + +"'Tis the Rover's brand, lass, that he marks his ewes. Take her to the +cabin and use her well. Now, hearties, get her under water, and out to +our luck once more." + +Within an hour the good ship _Portobello_ had settled down to her doom, +till she lay beside her murdered passengers upon the Caribbean sand, +while the pirate barque, her deck littered with plunder, was heading +northward in search of another victim. + +There was a carouse that night in the cabin of _The Happy Delivery_, at +which three men drank deep. They were the captain, the quartermaster, +and Baldy Stable, the surgeon, a man who had held the first practice in +Charleston, until, misusing a patient, he fled from justice, and took +his skill over to the pirates. A bloated fat man he was, with a creased +neck and a great shining scalp, which gave him his name. Sharkey had +put for the moment all thought of the mutiny out of his head, knowing +that no animal is fierce when it is over-fed, and that whilst the +plunder of the great ship was new to them he need fear no trouble from +his crew. He gave himself up, therefore, to the wine and the riot, +shouting and roaring with his boon companions. All three were flushed +and mad, ripe for any devilment, when the thought of the woman crossed +the pirate's evil mind. He yelled to the negro steward that he should +bring her on the instant. + +Inez Ramirez had now realized it all--the death of her father and +mother, and her own position in the hands of their murderers. +Yet calmness had come with the knowledge, and there was no sign of +terror in her proud, dark face as she was led into the cabin, but rather +a strange, firm set of the mouth and an exultant gleam of the eyes, like +one who sees great hopes in the future. She smiled at the pirate +captain as he rose and seized her by the waist. + +"'Fore God! this is a lass of spirit," cried Sharkey, passing his arm +round her. "She was born to be a Rover's bride. Come, my bird, and +drink to our better friendship." + +"Article Six!" hiccoughed the doctor. "All _bona robas_ in common." + +"Aye! we hold you to that, Captain Sharkey," said Galloway. "It is so +writ in Article Six." + +"I will cut the man into ounces who comes betwixt us!" cried Sharkey, as +he turned his fish-like eyes from one to the other. "Nay, lass, the man +is not born that will take you from John Sharkey. Sit here upon my +knee, and place your arm round me so. Sink me, if she has not learned +to love me at sight! Tell me, my pretty, why you were so mishandled and +laid in the bilboes aboard yonder craft?" + +The woman shook her head and smiled. "No Inglese--no Inglese," she +lisped. She had drunk off the bumper of wine which Sharkey held to her, +and her dark eyes gleamed more brightly than before. Sitting on +Sharkey's knee, her arm encircled his neck, and her hand toyed with his +hair, his ear, his cheek. Even the strange quartermaster and the +hardened surgeon felt a horror as they watched her, but Sharkey laughed +in his joy. "Curse me, if she is not a lass of metal!" he cried, +as he pressed her to him and kissed her unresisting lips. + +But a strange intent look of interest had come into the surgeon's eyes +as he watched her, and his face set rigidly, as if a fearsome thought +had entered his mind. There stole a grey pallor over his bull face, +mottling all the red of the tropics and the flush of the wine. + +"Look at her hand, Captain Sharkey!" he cried. "For the Lord's sake, +look at her hand!" + +Sharkey stared down at the hand which had fondled him. It was of a +strange dead pallor, with a yellow shiny web betwixt the fingers. +All over it was a white fluffy dust, like the flour of a new-baked loaf. +It lay thick on Sharkey's neck and cheek. With a cry of disgust he +flung the woman from his lap; but in an instant, with a wild-cat bound, +and a scream of triumphant malice, she had sprung at the surgeon, who +vanished yelling under the table. One of her clawing hands grasped +Galloway by the beard, but he tore himself away, and snatching a pike, +held her off from him as she gibbered and mowed with the blazing eyes of +a maniac. + +The black steward had run in on the sudden turmoil, and among them they +forced the mad creature back into a cabin and turned the key upon her. +Then the three sank panting into their chairs, and looked with eyes of +horror upon each other. The same word was in the mind of each, but +Galloway was the first to speak it. + +"A leper!" he cried. "She has us all, curse her!" + +"Not me," said the surgeon; "she never laid her finger on me." + +"For that matter," cried Galloway, "it was but my beard that she +touched. I will have every hair of it off before morning." + +"Dolts that we were!" the surgeon shouted, beating his head with his +hand. "Tainted or no, we shall never know a moment's peace till the +year is up and the time of danger past. 'Fore God, that merchant +skipper has left his mark on us, and pretty fools we were to think that +such a maid would be quarantined for the cause he gave. It is easy to +see now that her corruption broke forth in the journey, and that save +throwing her over they had no choice but to board her up until they +should come to some port with a lazarette." + +Sharkey had sat leaning back in his chair with a ghastly face while he +listened to the surgeon's words. He mopped himself with his red +handkerchief, and wiped away the fatal dust with which he was smeared. + +"What of me?" he croaked. "What say you, Baldy Stable? Is there a +chance for me? Curse you for a villain! speak out, or I will drub you +within an inch of your life, and that inch also! Is there a chance for +me, I say?" + +But the surgeon shook his head. "Captain Sharkey," said he, "it would +be an ill deed to speak you false. The taint is on you. No man on +whom the leper scales have rested is ever clean again." + +Sharkey's head fell forward on his chest, and he sat motionless, +stricken by this great and sudden horror, looking with his smouldering +eyes into his fearsome future. Softly the mate and the surgeon rose +from their places, and stealing out from the poisoned air of the cabin, +came forth into the freshness of the early dawn, with the soft, +scent-laden breeze in their faces and the first red feathers of cloud +catching the earliest gleam of the rising sun as it shot its golden rays +over the palm-clad ridges of distant Hispaniola. + +That morning a second council of the Rovers was held at the base of the +mainmast, and a deputation chosen to see the captain. They were +approaching the after-cabins when Sharkey came forth, the old devil in +his eyes, and his bandolier with a pair of pistols over his shoulder. + +"Sink you all for villains!" he cried, "Would you dare to cross my +hawse? Stand out, Sweetlocks, and I will lay you open! Here, Galloway, +Martin, Foley, stand by me and lash the dogs to their kennel!" + +But his officers had deserted him, and there was none to come to his +aid. There was a rush of the pirates. One was shot through the body, +but an instant afterwards Sharkey had been seized and was triced to his +own mainmast. His filmy eyes looked round from face to face, and there +was none who felt the happier for having met them. + +"Captain Sharkey," said Sweetlocks, "you have mishandled many of us, and +you have now pistolled John Masters, besides killing Bartholomew, the +carpenter, by braining him with a bucket. All this might have been +forgiven you, in that you have been our leader for years, and that we +have signed articles to serve under you while the voyage lasts. But now +we have heard of this bona roba on board, and we know that you are +poisoned to the marrow, and that while you rot there will be no safety +for any of us, but that we shall all be turned into filth and +corruption. Therefore, John Sharkey, we Rovers of _The Happy Delivery_, +in council assembled, have decreed that while there be yet time, before +the plague spreads, you shall be set adrift in a boat to find such +a fate as Fortune may be pleased to send you." + +John Sharkey said nothing, but slowly circling his head, he cursed them +all with his baleful gaze. The ship's dinghy had been lowered, and he +with his hands still tied, was dropped into it on the bight of a rope. + +"Cast her off!" cried Sweetlocks. + +"Nay, hold hard a moment, Master Sweetlocks!" shouted one of the crew. +"What of the wench? Is she to bide aboard and poison us all?" + +"Send her off with her mate!" cried another, and the Rovers roared their +approval. Driven forth at the end of pikes, the girl was pushed towards +the boat. With all the spirit of Spain in her rotting body she flashed +triumphant glances on her captors. "Perros! Perros Ingleses! Lepero, +Lepero!" she cried in exultation, as they thrust her over into the +boat. + +"Good luck, captain! God speed you on your honeymoon!" cried a chorus +of mocking voices, as the painter was unloosed, and _The Happy +Delivery_, running full before the trade-wind, left the little boat +astern, a tiny dot upon the vast expanse of the lonely sea. + + +Extract from the log of H.M. fifty-gun ship _Hecate_ in her cruise off +the American Main. + +"Jan. 26, 1721.--This day, the junk having become unfit for food, and +five of the crew down with scurvy, I ordered that we send two boats +ashore at the nor'-western point of Hispaniola, to seek for fresh +fruit, and perchance shoot some of the wild oxen with which the island +abounds. + +"7 p.m.--The boats have returned with good store of green stuff and two +bullocks. Mr. Woodruff, the master, reports that near the landing-place +at the edge of the forest was found the skeleton of a woman, clad in +European dress, of such sort as to show that she may have been a person +of quality. Her head had been crushed by a great stone which lay beside +her. Hard by was a grass hut, and signs that a man had dwelt therein +for some time, as was shown by charred wood, bones and other traces. +There is a rumour upon the coast that Sharkey, the bloody pirate, was +marooned in these parts last year, but whether he has made his way into +the interior, or whether he has been picked up by some craft, there is +no means of knowing. If he be once again afloat, then I pray that God +send him under our guns." + + + +THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER + + +I am speaking, my friends, of days which are long gone by, when I had +scarcely begun to build up that fame which has made my name so familiar. +Among the thirty officers of the Hussars of Conflans there was nothing +to indicate that I was superior in any way to the others. I can well +imagine how surprised they would all have been had they realized that +young Lieutenant Etienne Gerard was destined for so glorious a career, +and would live to command a brigade and to receive from the Emperor's +own hands that cross which I can show you any time that you do me the +honour to visit me in my little cottage. You know, do you not, the +little white-washed cottage with the vine in front, in the field beside +the Garonne? + +People have said of me that I have never known what fear was. No doubt +you have heard them say it. For many years, out of a foolish pride, I +have let the saying pass. And yet now, in my old age, I can afford to +be honest. The brave man dares to be frank. It is only the coward who +is afraid to make admissions. So I tell you now that I also am human; +that I also have felt my skin grow cold, and my hair rise; that I have +even known what it was to run away until my limbs could scarce support +me. It shocks you to hear it? Well, some day it may comfort you, when +your own courage has reached its limits, to know that even Etienne +Gerard has known what it was to be afraid. I will tell you now how this +experience befell me, and also how it brought me a wife. + +For the moment France was at peace, and we, the Hussars of Conflans, +were in camp all that summer a few miles from the town of Les Andelys in +Normandy. It is not a very gay place by itself, but we of the Light +Cavalry make all places gay which we visit, and so we passed our time +very pleasantly. Many years and many scenes have dulled my remembrance, +but still the name Les Andelys brings back to me a huge ruined castle, +great orchards of apple trees, and above all, a vision of the lovely +maidens of Normandy. They were the very finest of their sex, as we may +be said to have been of ours, and so we were well met in that sweet +sunlit summer. Ah, the youth, the beauty, the valour, and then the +dull, dead years that blurr them all! There are times when the glorious +past weighs on my heart like lead. No, sir, no wine can wash away such +thoughts, for they are of the spirit and the soul. It is only the +gross body which responds to wine, but if you offer it for that, then I +will not refuse it. + +Now of all the maidens who dwelt in those parts there was one who was so +superior in beauty and in charm that she seemed to be very specially +marked out for me. Her name was Marie Ravon, and her people, the +Ravons, were of yeoman stock who had farmed their own land in those +parts since the days when Duke William went to England. If I close my +eyes now, I see her as she then was, her cheeks, dusky like moss roses; +her hazel eyes, so gentle and yet so full of spirit; her hair of that +deepest black which goes most fitly with poetry and with passion; her +finger as supple as a young birch tree in the wind. Ah! how she swayed +away from me when first I laid my arm round it, for she was full of fire +and pride, ever evading, ever resisting, fighting to the last that her +surrender might be the more sweet. Out of a hundred and forty women-- +But who can compare where all are so near perfection! + +You will wonder why it should be, if this maiden was so beautiful, that +I should be left without a rival. There was a very good reason, my +friends, for I so arranged it that my rivals were in the hospital. +There was Hippolyte Lesoeur, he visited them for two Sundays; but if he +lives, I dare swear that he still limps from the bullet which lodges in +his knee. Poor Victor also--up to his death at Austerlitz he wore my +mark. Soon it was understood that if I could not win Marie, I should at +least have a fair field in which to try. It was said in our camp that +it was safer to charge a square of unbroken infantry than to be seen too +often at the farmhouse of the Ravons. + +Now let me be precise for a moment. Did I wish to marry Marie? Ah! my +friends, marriage is not for a Hussar. Today he is in Normandy; +tomorrow he is in the hills of Spain or in the bogs of Poland. +What shall he do with a wife? Would it be fair to either of them? +Can it be right that his courage should be blunted by the thought of the +despair which his death would bring, or is it reasonable that she should +be left fearing lest every post should bring her the news of irreparable +misfortune? A Hussar can but warm himself at the fire, and then hurry +onwards, too happy if he can but pass another fire from which some +comfort may come. And Marie, did she wish to marry me? She knew well +that when our silver trumpets blew the march it would be over the grave +of our married life. Better far to hold fast to her own people and +her own soil, where she and her husband could dwell for ever amid the +rich orchards and within sight of the great Castle of Le Galliard. +Let her remember her Hussar in her dreams, but let her waking days be +spent in the world as she finds it. Meanwhile we pushed such thoughts +from our minds, and gave ourselves up to a sweet companionship, each day +complete in itself with never a thought of the morrow. It is true that +there were times when her father, a stout old gentleman with a face like +one of his own apples, and her mother, a thin anxious woman of the +country, gave me hints that they would wish to be clearer as to my +intentions; but in their hearts they each knew well that Etienne Gerard +was a man of honour, and that their daughter was very safe as well as +very happy in his keeping. So the matter stood until the night of which +I speak. + +It was the Sunday evening, and I had ridden over from the camp. +There were several of our fellows who were visiting the village, and we +all left our horses at the inn. Thence I had to walk to the Ravons, +which was only separated by a single very large field extending to the +very door. I was about to start when the landlord ran after me. +"Excuse me, lieutenant," said he, "it is farther by the road, and yet I +should advise you to take it." + +"It is a mile or more out of my way." + +"I know it. But I think that it would be wiser," and he smiled as he +spoke. + +"And why?" I asked. + +"Because," said he, "the English bull is loose in the field." + +If it were not for that odious smile, I might have considered it. +But to hold a danger over me and then to smile in such a fashion was +more than my proud temper could bear. I indicated by a gesture +what I thought of the English bull. + +"I will go by the shortest way," said I. + +I had no sooner set my foot in the field than I felt that my spirit had +betrayed me into rashness. It was a very large square field, and as I +came further out into it I felt like the cockle-shell which ventures +out from land and sees no port save that from which it has issued. +There was a wall on every side of the field save that from which I had +come. In front of me was the farmhouse of the Ravons, with wall +extending to right and left. A back door opened upon the field, and +there were several windows, but all were barred, as is usual in the +Norman farms. I pushed on rapidly to the door, as being the only +harbour of safety, walking with dignity as befits a soldier, and yet +with such speed as I could summon. From the waist upwards I was +unconcerned and even debonnaire. Below, I was swift and alert. + +I had nearly reached the middle of the field when I perceived the +creature. He was rooting about with his fore feet under a large beech +tree which lay upon my right hand. I did not turn my head, nor would +the bystander have detected that I took notice of him, but my eye was +watching him with anxiety. It may have been that he was in a contented +mood, or it may have been that he was arrested by the nonchalance of my +bearing, but he made no movement in my direction. Reassured, I fixed my +eyes upon the open window of Marie's bed-chamber, which was immediately +over the back door, in the hope that those dear, tender, dark eyes, were +surveying me from behind the curtains. I flourished my little cane, +loitered to pick a primrose, and sang one of our devil-may-care choruses +in order to insult this English beast, and to show my love how little +I cared for danger when it stood between her and me. The creature was +abashed by my fearlessness, and so, pushing open the back door, I was +able to enter the farmhouse in safety and in honour. + +And was it not worth the danger? Had all the bulls of Castile guarded +the entrance, would it not still have been worth it? Ah, the hours, the +sunny hours, which can never come back, when our youthful feet seemed +scarce to touch the ground, and we lived in a sweet dreamland of our own +creation! She honoured my courage, and she loved me for it. As she lay +with her flushed cheek pillowed against the silk of my dolman, looking +up at me with her wondering eyes, shining with love and admiration, +she marvelled at the stories in which I gave her some pictures of the +true character of her lover. + +"Has your heart never failed you? Have you never known the feeling of +fear?" she asked. I laughed at such a thought. What place could fear +have in the mind of a Hussar? Young as I was, I had given my proofs. +I told her how I had led my squadron into a square of Hungarian +Grenadiers. She shuddered as she embraced me. I told her also how I +had swum my horse over the Danube at night with a message for Davoust. +To be frank, it was not the Danube, nor was it so deep that I was +compelled to swim, but when one is twenty and in love, one tells a story +as best one can. Many such stories I told her, while her dear eyes grew +more and more amazed. + +"Never in my dreams, Etienne," said she, "did I believe that so brave a +man existed. Lucky France that has such a soldier, lucky Marie that has +such a lover!" + +You can think how I flung myself at her feet as I murmured that I was +the luckiest of all--I who had found some one who could appreciate and +understand. + +It was a charming relationship, too infinitely sweet and delicate for +the interference of coarser minds. But you can understand that the +parents imagined that they also had their duty to do. I played dominoes +with the old man, and I wound wool for his wife, and yet they could not +be led to believe that it was from love of them that I came thrice a +week to their farm. For some time an explanation was inevitable, and +that night it came. Marie, in delightful mutiny, was packed off to her +room, and I faced the old people in the parlour as they plied me with +questions upon my prospects and my intentions. + +"One way or the other," they said, in their blunt country fashion. +"Let us hear that you are betrothed to Marie, or let us never see your +face again." + +I spoke of my honour, my hopes, and my future, but they remained +immovable upon the present. I pleaded my career, but they in their +selfish way would think of nothing but their daughter. It was indeed +a difficult position in which I found myself. On the one hand, I could +not forsake my Marie; on the other, what would a young Hussar do with +marriage? At last, hard pressed, I begged them to leave the matter, if +it were only for a day. + +"I will see Marie," said I, "I will see her without delay. It is her +heart and her happiness which come before all else." + +They were not satisfied, these grumbling old people, but they could say +no more. They bade me a short good night and I departed, full of +perplexity, for the inn. I came out by the same door which I had +entered, and I heard them lock and bar it behind me. + +I walked across the field lost in thought, with my mind entirely filled +with the arguments of the old people and the skilful replies which I had +made to them. What should I do? I had promised to see Marie without +delay. What should I say to her when I did see her? Would I surrender +to her beauty and turn my back upon my profession? If Etienne Gerard's +sword were turned to a scythe, then indeed it was a bad day for the +Emperor and France. Or should I harden my heart and turn away from +Marie? Or was it not possible that all might be reconciled; that I +might be a happy husband in Normandy but a brave soldier elsewhere? +All these thoughts were buzzing in my head, when a sudden noise made me +look up. The moon had come from behind a cloud, and there was the bull +before me. + +He had seemed a large animal beneath the beech tree, but now he appeared +enormous. He was black in colour. His head was held down, and the moon +shone upon two menacing and bloodshot eyes. His tail switched swiftly +from side to side, and his fore feet dug into the earth. A more +horrible-looking monster was never seen in a nightmare. He was +moving slowly and stealthily in my direction. + +I glanced behind me, and I found that in my distraction I had come a +very long way from the edge of the field. I was more than half-way +across it. My nearest refuge was the inn, but the bull was between me +and it. Perhaps if the creature understood how little I feared him, he +would make way for me. I shrugged my shoulders and made a gesture of +contempt. I even whistled. The creature thought I called it, for he +approached with alacrity. I kept my face boldly towards him, but I +walked swiftly backwards. When one is young and active, one can almost +run backwards and yet keep a brave and smiling face to the enemy. As I +ran I menaced the animal with my cane. Perhaps it would have been wiser +had I restrained my spirit. He regarded it as a challenge--which, +indeed, was the last thing in my mind. It was a misunderstanding, but a +fatal one. With a snort he raised his tail and charged. + +Have you ever seen a bull charge, my friends? It is a strange sight. +You think, perhaps, that he trots, or even that he gallops. No, it is +worse than this. It is a succession of bounds by which he advances, +each more menacing than the last. I have no fear of anything which man +can do. When I deal with man, I feel that the nobility of my own +attitude, the gallant ease with which I face him, will in itself go far +to disarm him. What he can do, I can do, so why should I fear him? +But when it is a ton of enraged beef with which you contend, it is +another matter. You cannot hope to argue, to soften, to conciliate. +There is no resistance possible. My proud assurance was all wasted upon +the creature. In an instant my ready wit had weighed every possible +course, and had determined that no one, not the Emperor himself, could +hold his ground. There was but one course--to fly. + +But one may fly in many ways. One may fly with dignity or one may fly +in panic. I fled, I trust, like a soldier. My bearing was superb +though my legs moved rapidly. My whole appearance was a protest against +the position in which I was placed. I smiled as I ran--the bitter smile +of the brave man who mocks his own fate. Had all my comrades surrounded +the field, they could not have thought the less of me when they saw the +disdain with which I avoided the bull. + +But here it is that I must make my confession. When once flight +commences, though it be ever so soldierly, panic follows hard upon it. +Was it not so with the Guard at Waterloo? So it was that night with +Etienne Gerard. After all, there was no one to note my bearing--no one +save this accursed bull. If for a minute I forgot my dignity, who would +be the wiser? Every moment the thunder of the hoofs and the horrible +snorts of the monster drew nearer to my heels. Horror filled me at the +thought of so ignoble a death. The brutal rage of the creature sent a +chill to my heart. In an instant everything was forgotten. There were +in the world but two creatures, the bull and I--he trying to kill +me, I striving to escape. I put down my head and I ran--I ran for my +life. + +It was for the house of the Ravons that I raced. But even as I reached +it, it flashed into my mind that there was no refuge for me there. +The door was locked. The lower windows were barred. The wall was high +upon either side. And the bull was nearer me with every stride. +But oh, my friends, it is at that supreme moment of danger that Etienne +Gerard has ever risen to his height. There was one path to safety, and +in an instant I had chosen it. + +I have said that the window of Marie's bedroom was above the door. +The curtains were closed, but the folding sides were thrown open, and a +lamp burned in the room. Young and active, I felt that I could spring +high enough to reach the edge of the window sill and to draw myself out +of danger. The monster was within touch of me as I sprang. Had I been +unaided, I should have done what I had planned. But even as in a superb +effort I rose from the earth he butted me into the air. I shot through +the curtains as if I had been fired from a gun, and I dropped upon my +hands and knees in the centre of the room. + +There was, as it appears, a bed in the window, but I had passed over it +in safety. As I staggered to my feet I turned towards it in +consternation, but it was empty. My Marie sat in a low chair in the +corner of the room, and her flushed cheeks showed that she had been +weeping. No doubt her parents had given her some account of what had +passed between us. She was too amazed to move, and could only sit +looking at me with her mouth open. + +"Etienne!" she gasped. "Etienne!" + +In an instant I was as full of resource as ever. There was but one +course for a gentleman, and I took it. + +"Marie," I cried, "forgive, oh forgive the abruptness of my return! +Marie, I have seen your parents tonight. I could not return to the camp +without asking you whether you will make me for ever happy by promising +to be my wife?" + +It was long before she could speak, so great was her amazement. +Then every emotion was swept away in the one great flood of her +admiration. + +"Oh, Etienne! my wonderful Etienne!" she cried, her arms round my neck. +"Was ever such love! Was ever such a man! As you stand there, white +and trembling with passion, you seem to me the very hero of my dreams. +How hard you breathe, my love, and what a spring it must have been which +brought you to my arms! At the instant that you came, I heard the tramp +of your war-horse without." + +There was nothing more to explain, and when one is newly betrothed, one +finds other uses for one's lips. But there was a scurry in the passage +and a pounding at the panels. At the crash of my arrival the old folk +had rushed to the cellar to see if the great cider cask had toppled off +the trestles, but now they were back and eager for admittance. I flung +open the door, and stood with Marie's hand in mine. + +"Behold your son!" I said. + +Ah, the joy which I had brought to that humble household! It warms my +heart still when I think of it. It did not seem too strange to them +that I should fly in through the window, for who should be a hot-headed +suitor if it is not a gallant Hussar? And if the door be locked, then +what way is there but the window? Once more we assembled all four in +the parlour, while the cobwebbed bottle was brought up and the ancient +glories of the House of Ravon were unrolled before me. Once more I see +the heavy-raftered room, the two old smiling faces, the golden circle of +the lamp-light, and she, my Marie, the bride of my youth, won so +strangely, and kept for so short a time. + +It was late when we parted. The old man came with me into the hall. + +"You can go by the front door or the back," said he. "The back way is +the shorter." + +"I think that I will take the front way," I answered. "It may be a bit +longer, but it will give me the more time to think of Marie." + + + +THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE + + +A LEGEND OF THE RING + +Tom Cribb, Champion of England, having finished his active career by his +two famous battles with the terrible Molineux, had settled down into the +public house which was known as the Union Arms, at the corner of Panton +Street in the Haymarket. Behind the bar of this hostelry there was a +green baize door which opened into a large, red-papered parlour, adorned +by many sporting prints and by the numerous cups and belts which were +the treasured trophies of the famous prize-fighter's victorious career. +In this snuggery it was the custom of the Corinthians of the day to +assemble in order to discuss, over Tom Cribb's excellent wines, the +matches of the past, to await the news of the present, and to arrange +new ones for the future. Hither also came his brother pugilists, +especially such as were in poverty or distress, for the Champion's +generosity was proverbial, and no man of his own trade was ever turned +from his door if cheering words or a full meal could mend his condition. + +On the morning in question--August 25, 1818--there were but two men in +this famous snuggery. One was Cribb himself--all run to flesh since the +time seven years before, when, training for his last fight, he had done +his forty miles a day with Captain Barclay over the Highland roads. +Broad and deep, as well as tall, he was a little short of twenty stone +in weight, but his heavy, strong face and lion eyes showed that the +spirit of the prize-fighter was not yet altogether overgrown by the fat +of the publican. Though it was not eleven o'clock, a great tankard of +bitter ale stood upon the table before him, and he was busy cutting up a +plug of black tobacco and rubbing the slices into powder between his +horny fingers. For all his record of desperate battles, he looked what +he was--a good-hearted, respectable householder, law-abiding and kindly, +a happy and prosperous man. + +His companion, however, was by no means in the same easy circumstances, +and his countenance wore a very different expression. He was a tall and +well-formed man, some fifteen years younger than the Champion, and +recalling in the masterful pose of his face and in the fine spread of +his shoulders something of the manly beauty which had distinguished +Cribb at his prime. No one looking at his countenance could fail to see +that he was a fighting man by profession, and any judge of the fancy, +considering his six feet in height, his thirteen stone solid muscle, +and his beautifully graceful build, would admit that he had started his +career with advantages which, if they were only backed by the driving +power of a stout heart, must carry him far. Tom Winter, or Spring--as +he chose to call himself--had indeed come up from his Herefordshire home +with a fine country record of local successes, which had been enhanced +by two victories gained over formidable London heavy-weights. +Three weeks before, however, he had been defeated by the famous Painter, +and the set-back weighed heavily upon the young man's spirit. + +"Cheer up, lad," said the Champion, glancing across from under his +tufted eyebrows at the disconsolate face of his companion. "Indeed, +Tom, you take it overhard." + +The young man groaned, but made no reply. "Others have been beat before +you and lived to be Champions of England. Here I sit with that very +title. Was I not beat down Broadwater way by George Nicholls in 1805? +What then? I fought on, and here I am. When the big Black came from +America it was not George Nicholls they sent for. I say to you--fight +on, and by George, I'll see you in my own shoes yet!" + +Tom Spring shook his head. "Never, if I have to fight you to get there, +Daddy." + +"I can't keep it for ever, Tom. It's beyond all reason. I'm going to +lay it down before all London at the Fives Courts next year, and it's to +you that I want to hand it. I couldn't train down to it now, lad. +My day's done." + +"Well, Dad, I'll never bid for it till you choose to stand aside. +After that, it is as it may be." + +"Well, have a rest, Tom; wait for your chance, and, meantime, there's +always a bed and crust for you here." + +Spring struck his clenched fist on his knee. "I know, Daddy! Ever since +I came up from Fownthorpe you've been as good as a father to me." + +"I've an eye for a winner." + +"A pretty winner! Beat in forty rounds by Ned Painter." + +"You had beat him first." + +"And by the Lord, I will again!" + +"So you will, lad. George Nicholls would never give me another shy. +Knew too much, he did. Bought a butcher's shop in Bristol with the +money, and there he is to this day." + +"Yes, I'll come back on Painter, but I haven't a shilling left. +My backers have lost faith in me. If it wasn't for you, Daddy, I'd be +in the kennel." + +"Have you nothing left, Tom?" + +"Not the price of a meal. I left every penny I had, and my good name as +well, in the ring at Kingston. I'm hard put to it to live unless I can +get another fight, and who's going to back me now?" + +"Tut, man! the knowing ones will back you. You're the top of the list, +for all Ned Painter. But there are other ways a man may earn a bit. +There was a lady in here this morning--nothing flash, boy, a real +tip-top out-and-outer with a coronet on her coach--asking after you." + +"Asking after me! A lady!" The young pugilist stood up with surprise +and a certain horror rising in his eyes. "You don't mean, Daddy--" + +"I mean nothing but what is honest, my lad. You can lay to that!" + +"You said I could earn a bit." + +"So, perhaps, you can. Enough, anyhow, to tide you over your bad time. +There's something in the wind there. It's to do with fightin'. +She asked questions about your height, weight, and my opinion of your +prospect. You can lay that my answers did you no harm." + +"She ain't making a match, surely?" + +"Well, she seemed to know a tidy bit about it. She asked about George +Cooper, and Richmond the Black, and Tom Oliver, always comin' back to +you, and wantin' to know if you were not the pick of the bunch. +_And_ trustworthy. That was the other point. Could she trust you? +Lord, Tom, if you was a fightin' archangel you could hardly live up to +the character that I've given you." + +A drawer looked in from the bar. "If you please, Mr. Cribb, the lady's +carriage is back again." + +The Champion laid down his long clay pipe. "This way, lad," said he, +plucking his young friend by the sleeve towards the side window. +"Look there, now! Saw you ever a more slap-up carriage? See, too, the +pair of bays--two hundred guineas apiece. Coachman, too, and footman-- +you'd find 'em hard to beat. There she is now, stepping out of it. +Wait here, lad, till I do the honours of my house." + +Tom Cribb slipped off, and young Spring remained by the window, tapping +the glass nervously with his fingers, for he was a simple-minded country +lad with no knowledge of women, and many fears of the traps which await +the unwary in a great city. Many stories were afloat of pugilists who +had been taken up and cast aside again by wealthy ladies, even as the +gladiators were in decadent Rome. It was with some suspicion therefore, +and considerable inward trepidation, that he faced round as a tall +veiled figure swept into the room. He was much consoled, however, to +observe the bulky form of Tom Cribb immediately behind her as a proof +that the interview was not to be a private one. When the door was +closed, the lady very deliberately removed her gloves. Then with +fingers which glittered with diamonds she slowly rolled up and adjusted +her heavy veil. Finally, she turned her face upon Spring. + +"Is this the man?" said she. + +They stood looking at each other with mutual interest, which warmed in +both their faces into mutual admiration. What she saw was as fine a +figure of a young man as England could show, none the less attractive +for the restrained shyness of his manner and the blush which flushed his +cheeks. What he saw was a woman of thirty, tall, dark, queen-like, and +imperious, with a lovely face, every line and feature of which told of +pride and breed, a woman born to Courts, with the instinct of command +strong within her, and yet with all the softer woman's graces to temper +and conceal the firmness of her soul. Tom Spring felt as he looked at +her that he had never seen nor ever dreamed of any one so beautiful, and +yet he could not shake off the instinct which warned him to be upon his +guard. Yes, it was beautiful, this face--beautiful beyond belief. +But was it good, was it kind, was it true? There was some strange +subconscious repulsion which mingled with his admiration for her +loveliness. As to the lady's thoughts, she had already put away all +idea of the young pugilist as a man, and regarded him now with critical +eyes as a machine designed for a definite purpose. + +"I am glad to meet you, Mr.--Mr. Spring," said she, looking him over +with as much deliberation as a dealer who is purchasing a horse. +"He is hardly as tall as I was given to understand, Mr. Cribb. +You said six feet, I believe?" + +"So he is, ma'am, but he carries it so easy. It's only the beanstalk +that looks tall. See here, I'm six foot myself, and our heads are +level, except I've lost my fluff." + +"What is the chest measurement?" + +"Forty-three inches, ma'am." + +"You certainly seem to be a very strong young man. And a game one, too, +I hope?" + +Young Spring shrugged his shoulders. + +"It's not for me to say, ma'am." + +"I can speak for that, ma'am," said Cribb. "You read the _Sporting +Chronicle_ for three weeks ago, ma'am. You'll see how he stood up to +Ned Painter until his senses were beat out of him. I waited on him, +ma'am, and I know. I could show you my waistcoat now--that would let +you guess what punishment he can take." + +The lady waved aside the illustration. "But he was beat," said she, +coldly. "The man who beat him must be the better man." + +"Saving your presence, ma'am, I think not, and outside Gentleman Jackson +my judgment would stand against any in the ring. My lad here has beat +Painter once, and will again, if your ladyship could see your way to +find the battle-money." + +The lady started and looked angrily at the Champion. + +"Why do you call me that?" + +"I beg pardon. It was just my way of speaking." + +"I order you not to do it again." + +"Very good, ma'am." + +"I am here incognito. I bind you both upon your honours to make no +inquiry as to who I am. If I do not get your firm promise, the matter +ends here." + +"Very good, ma'am. I'll promise for my own part, and so, I am sure, +will Spring. But if I may be so bold, I can't help my drawers and +potmen talking with your servants." + +"The coachman and footman know just as much about me as you do. But my +time is limited, so I must get to business. I think, Mr. Spring, that +you are in want of something to do at present?" + +"That is so, ma'am." + +"I understand from Mr. Cribb that you are prepared to fight any one at +any weight?" + +"Anything on two legs," cried the Champion. "Who did you wish me to +fight?" asked the young pugilist. + +"That cannot concern you. If you are really ready to fight any one, +then the particular name can be of no importance. I have my reasons for +withholding it." + +"Very good, ma'am." + +"You have been only a few weeks out of training. How long would it take +you to get back to your best?" + +"Three weeks or a month." + +"Well, then, I will pay your training expenses and two pounds a week +over. Here are five pounds as a guarantee. You will fight when I +consider that you are ready, and that the circumstances are favourable. +If you win your fight, you shall have fifty pounds. Are you satisfied +with the terms?" + +"Very handsome, ma'am, I'm sure." + +"And remember, Mr. Spring, I choose you, not because you are the best +man--for there are two opinions about that--but because I am given to +understand that you are a decent man whom I can trust. The terms of +this match are to be secret." + +"I understand that. I'll say nothing." + +"It is a private match. Nothing more. You will begin your training +tomorrow." + +"Very good, ma'am." + +"I will ask Mr. Cribb to train you." + +"I'll do that, ma'am, with pleasure. But, by your leave, does he have +anything if he loses?" + +A spasm of emotion passed over the woman's face and her hands clenched +white with passion. + +"If he loses, not a penny, not a penny!" she cried. "He must not, shall +not lose!" + +"Well, ma'am," said Spring, "I've never heard of any such match. +But it's true that I am down at heel, and beggars can't be choosers. +I'll do just what you say. I'll train till you give the word, and then +I'll fight where you tell me. I hope you'll make it a large ring." + +"Yes," said she; "it will be a large ring." + +"And how far from London?" + +"Within a hundred miles. Have you anything else to say? My time is +up." + +"I'd like to ask, ma'am," said the Champion, earnestly, "whether I can +act as the lad's second when the time comes. I've waited on him the +last two fights. Can I give him a knee?" + +"No," said the woman, sharply. Without another word she turned and was +gone, shutting the door behind her. A few moments later the trim +carriage flashed past the window, turned down the crowded Haymarket, and +was engulfed in the traffic. + +The two men looked at each other in silence. + +"Well, blow my dicky, if this don't beat cockfightin'!" cried Tom Cribb +at last. "Anyhow, there's the fiver, lad. But it's a rum go, and no +mistake about it." + +After due consultation, it was agreed that Tom Spring should go into +training at the Castle Inn on Hampstead Heath, so that Cribb could drive +over and watch him. Thither Spring went on the day after the interview +with his patroness, and he set to work at once with drugs, dumb-bells, +and breathers on the common to get himself into condition. It was hard, +however, to take the matter seriously, and his good-natured trainer +found the same difficulty. + +"It's the baccy I miss, Daddy," said the young pugilist, as they sat +together on the afternoon of the third day. "Surely there can't be any +harm in my havin' a pipe?" + +"Well, well, lad, it's against my conscience, but here's my box and +there's a yard o' clay," said the Champion. "My word, I don't know what +Captain Barclay of Ury would have said if he had seen a man smoke when +he was in trainin'! He was the man to work you! He had me down from +sixteen to thirteen the second time I fought the Black." + +Spring had lit his pipe and was leaning back amid a haze of blue smoke. + +"It was easy for you, Daddy, to keep strict trainin' when you knew what +was before you. You had your date and your place and your man. +You knew that in a month you would jump the ropes with ten thousand folk +round you, and carrying maybe a hundred thousand in bets. You knew also +the man you had to meet, and you wouldn't give him the better of you. +But it's all different with me. For all I know, this is just a woman's +whim, and will end in nothing. If I was sure it was serious, I'd break +this pipe before I would smoke it." + +Tom Cribb scratched his head in puzzlement. + +"I can make nothing of it, lad, 'cept that her money is good. Come to +think of it, how many men on the list could stand up to you for half an +hour? It can't be Stringer, 'cause you've beat him. Then there's +Cooper; but he's up Newcastle way. It can't be him. There's Richmond; +but you wouldn't need to take your coat off to beat him. There's the +Gasman; but he's not twelve stone. And there's Bill Neat of Bristol. +That's it, lad. The lady has taken into her head to put you up against +either the Gasman or Bill Neat." + +"But why not say so? I'd train hard for the Gasman and harder for Bill +Neat, but I'm blowed if I can train, with any heart when I'm fightin' +nobody in particular and everybody in general, same as now." + +There was a sudden interruption to the speculations of the two +prize-fighters. The door opened and the lady entered. As her eyes fell +upon the two men her dark, handsome face flushed with anger, and +she gazed at them silently with an expression of contempt which brought +them both to their feet with hangdog faces. There they stood, their +long, reeking pipes in their hands, shuffling and downcast, like two +great rough mastiffs before an angry mistress. + +"So!" said she, stamping her foot furiously. "And this is training!" + +"I'm sure we're very sorry, ma'am," said the abashed Champion. +"I didn't think--I never for one moment supposed--" + +"That I would come myself to see if you were taking my money on false +pretences? No, I dare say not. You fool!" she blazed, turning suddenly +upon Tom Spring. "You'll be beat. That will be the end of it." + +The young man looked up with an angry face. + +"I'll trouble you not to call me names, ma'am. I've my self-respect, +the same as you. I'll allow that I shouldn't have smoked when I was in +trainin'. But I was saying to Tom Cribb here, just before you came in, +that if you would give over treatin' us as if we were children, and if +you would tell us just who it is you want me to fight, and when, and +where, it would be a deal easier for me to take myself in hand." + +"It's true, ma'am," said the Champion. "I know it must be either the +Gasman or Bill Neat. There's no one else. So give me the office, and +I'll promise to have him as fit as a trout on the day." + +The lady laughed contemptuously. + +"Do you think," said she, "that no one can fight save those who make a +living by it?" + +"By George, it's an amateur!" cried Cribb, in amazement. "But you don't +surely ask Tom Spring to train for three weeks to meet a Corinthian?" + +"I will say nothing more of who it is. It is no business of yours," the +lady answered fiercely. "All I _do_ say is, that if you do not train I +will cast you aside and take some one who will. Do not think you can +fool me because I am a woman. I have learned the points of the game as +well as any man." + +"I saw that the very first word you spoke," said Cribb. + +"Then don't forget it. I will not warn you again. If I have occasion +to find fault I shall choose another man." + +"And you won't tell me who I am to fight?" + +"Not a word. But you can take it from me that at your very best it will +take you, or any man in England, all your time to master him. Now, get +back this instant to your work, and never let me find you shirking it +again." With imperious eyes she looked the two strong men down, and +then, turning on her heel, she swept out of the room. + +The Champion whistled as the door closed behind her, and mopped his brow +with his red bandanna handkerchief as he looked across at his abashed +companion. "My word, lad," said he, "it's earnest from this day on." + +"Yes," said Tom Spring, solemnly, "it's earnest from this day on." + +In the course of the next fortnight the lady made several surprise +visits to see that her champion was being properly prepared for the +contest which lay before him. At the most unexpected moments she would +burst into the training quarters, but never again had she to complain of +any slackness upon his part or that of his trainer. With long bouts of +the gloves, with thirty-mile walks, with mile runs at the back of a +mailcart with a bit of blood between the shafts, with interminable +series of jumps with a skipping-rope, he was sweated down until his +trainer was able to proudly proclaim that "the last ounce of tallow is +off him and he is ready to fight for his life." Only once was the lady +accompanied by any one upon these visits of inspection. Upon this +occasion a tall young man was her companion. He was graceful in +figure, aristocratic in his bearing, and would have been strikingly +handsome had it not been for some accident which had shattered his nose +and broken all the symmetry of his features. He stood in silence with +moody eyes and folded arms, looking at the splendid torso of the +prize-fighter as, stripped to the waist, he worked with his dumbbells. + +"Don't you think he will do?" said the lady. + +The young swell shrugged his shoulders. "I don't like it, _cara mia_. +I can't pretend that I like it." + +"You must like it, George. I have set my very heart on it." + +"It is not English, you know. Lucrezia Borgia and Mediaeval Italy. +Woman's love and woman's hatred are always the same, but this particular +manifestation of it seems to me out of place in nineteenth-century +London." + +"Is not a lesson needed?" + +"Yes, yes; but one would think there were other ways." + +"You tried another way. What did you get out of that?" + +The young man smiled rather grimly, as he turned up his cuff and looked +at a puckered hole in his wrist. + +"Not much, certainly," said he. + +"You've tried and failed." + +"Yes, I must admit it." + +"What else is there? The law?" + +"Good gracious, no!" + +"Then it is my turn, George, and I won't be balked." + +"I don't think any one is capable of balking you, _cara mia_. Certainly +I, for one, should never dream of trying. But I don't feel as if I +could co-operate," + +"I never asked you to." + +"No, you certainly never did. You are perfectly capable of doing it +alone. I think, with your leave, if you have quite done with your +prize-fighter, we will drive back to London. I would not for the +world miss Goldoni in the Opera." + +So they drifted away; he, frivolous and dilettante, she with her face as +set as Fate, leaving the fighting men to their business. + +And now the day came when Cribb was able to announce to his employer +that his man was as fit as science could make him. + +"I can do no more, ma'am. He's fit to fight for a kingdom. Another +week would see him stale." + +The lady looked Spring over with the eye of a connoisseur. + +"I think he does you credit," she said at last. "Today is Tuesday. +He will fight the day after tomorrow." + +"Very good, ma'am. Where shall he go?" + +"I will tell you exactly, and you will please take careful note of all +that I say. You, Mr. Cribb, will take your man down to the Golden Cross +Inn at Charing Cross by nine o'clock on Wednesday morning. He will take +the Brighton coach as far as Tunbridge Wells, where he will alight at +the Royal Oak Arms. There he will take such refreshment as you advise +before a fight. He will wait at the Royal Oak Arms until he receives a +message by word, or by letter, brought him by a groom in a mulberry +livery. This message will give him his final instructions." + +"And I am not to come?" + +"No," said the lady. + +"But surely, ma'am," he pleaded, "I may come as far as Tunbridge Wells? +It's hard on a man to train a cove for a fight and then to leave him." + +"It can't be helped. You are too well known. Your arrival would spread +all over the town, and my plans might suffer. It is quite out of the +question that you should come." + +"Well, I'll do what you tell me, but it's main hard." + +"I suppose," said Spring, "you would have me bring my fightin' shorts +and my spiked shoes?" + +"No; you will kindly bring nothing whatever which may point to your +trade. I would have you wear just those clothes in which I saw you +first, such clothes as any mechanic or artisan might be expected to +wear." + +Tom Cribb's blank face had assumed an expression of absolute despair. + +"No second, no clothes, no shoes--it don't seem regular. I give you my +word, ma'am, I feel ashamed to be mixed up in such a fight. I don't +know as you can call the thing a fight where there is no second. +It's just a scramble--nothing more. I've gone too far to wash my hands +of it now, but I wish I had never touched it." + +In spite of all professional misgivings on the part of the Champion and +his pupil, the imperious will of the woman prevailed, and everything was +carried out exactly as she had directed. At nine o'clock Tom Spring +found himself upon the box-seat of the Brighton coach, and waved his +hand in goodbye to burly Tom Cribb, who stood, the admired of a ring +of waiters and ostlers, upon the doorstep of the Golden Cross. It was +in the pleasant season when summer is mellowing into autumn, and the +first golden patches are seen amid the beeches and the ferns. The young +country-bred lad breathed more freely when he had left the weary streets +of Southwark and Lewisham behind him, and he watched with delight the +glorious prospect as the coach, whirled along by six dapple greys, +passed by the classic grounds of Knowle, or after crossing Riverside +Hill skirted the vast expanse of the Weald of Kent. Past Tonbridge +School went the coach, and on through Southborough, until it wound down +a steep, curving road with strange outcrops of sandstone beside it, and +halted before a great hostelry, bearing the name which had been given +him in his directions. He descended, entered the coffee-room, and +ordered the underdone steak which his trainer had recommended. +Hardly had he finished it when a servant with a mulberry coat and a +peculiarly expressionless face entered the apartment. + +"Beg your pardon, sir, are you Mr. Spring--Mr. Thomas Spring, of +London?" + +"That is my name, young man." + +"Then the instructions which I had to give you are that you wait for one +hour after your meal. After that time you will find me in a phaeton +at the door, and I will drive you in the right direction." + +The young pugilist had never been daunted by any experience which had +befallen him in the ring. The rough encouragement of his backers, the +surge and shouting of the multitude, and the sight of his opponent had +always cheered his stout heart and excited him to prove himself worthy +of being the centre of such a scene. But his loneliness and uncertainty +were deadly. He flung himself down on the horse-hair couch and tried to +doze, but his mind was too restless and excited. Finally he rose, and +paced up and down the empty room. Suddenly he was aware of a great +rubicund face which surveyed him from round the angle of the door. +Its owner, seeing that he was observed, pushed forward into the room. + +"I beg pardon, sir," said he, "but surely I have the honour of talking +to Mr. Thomas Spring?" + +"At your service," said the young man. + +"Bless me! I am vastly honoured to have you under my roof! Cordery is my +name, sir, landlord of this old-fashioned inn. I thought that my eyes +could not deceive me. I am a patron of the ring, sir, in my own humble +way, and was present at Moulsey in September last, when you beat Jack +Stringer of Rawcliffe. A very fine fight, sir, and very handsomely +fought, if I may make bold to say so. I have a right to an opinion, +sir, for there's never been a fight for many a year in Kent or Sussex +that you wouldn't find Joe Cordery at the ring-side. Ask Mr. Gregson at +the Chop-house in Holborn and he'll tell you about old Joe Cordery. +By the way, Mr. Spring, I suppose it is not business that has brought +you down into these parts? Any one can see with half an eye that you +are trained to a hair. I'd take it very kindly if you would give me the +office." + +It crossed Spring's mind that if he were frank with the landlord it was +more than likely that he would receive more information than he could +give. He was a man of his word, however, and he remembered his promise +to his employer. + +"Just a quiet day in the country, Mr. Cordery. That's all." + +"Dear me! I had hoped there was a mill in the wind. I've a nose for +these things, Mr. Spring, and I thought I had a whiff of it. But, of +course, you should know best. Perhaps you will drive round with me this +afternoon and view the hop-gardens--just the right time of year, sir." + +Tom Spring was not very skilful in deception, and his stammering excuses +may not have been very convincing to the landlord, or finally persuaded +him that his original supposition was wrong. In the midst of the +conversation, however, the waiter entered with the news that a phaeton +was waiting at the door. The innkeeper's eyes shone with suspicion and +eagerness. + +"I thought you said you knew no one in these parts, Mr. Spring?" + +"Just one kind friend, Mr. Cordery, and he has sent his gig for me. +It's likely that I will take the night coach to town. But I'll look in +after an hour or two and have a dish of tea with you." + +Outside the mulberry servant was sitting behind a fine black horse in a +phaeton, which had two seats in front and two behind. Tom Spring was +about to climb up beside him, when the servant whispered that his +directions were that he should sit behind. Then the phaeton whirled +away, while the excited landlord, more convinced than ever that there +was something in the wind, rushed into his stable-yard with shrieks to +his ostlers, and in a very few minutes was in hot pursuit, waiting at +every cross-road until he could hear tidings of a black horse and a +mulberry livery. + +The phaeton meanwhile drove in the direction of Crowborough. Some miles +out it turned from the high-road into a narrow lane spanned by a tawny +arch of beech trees. Through this golden tunnel a lady was walking, +tall and graceful, her back to the phaeton. As it came abreast of her +she stood aside and looked up, while the coachman pulled up the horse. + +"I trust that you are at your best," said she, looking very earnestly at +the prize-fighter. "How do you feel?" + +"Pretty tidy, ma'am, I thank you." + +"I will get up beside you, Johnson. We have some way to go. You will +drive through the Lower Warren, and then take the lane which skirts the +Gravel Hanger. I will tell you where to stop. Go slowly, for we are +not due for twenty minutes." + +Feeling as if the whole business was some extraordinary dream, the young +pugilist passed through a network of secluded lanes, until the phaeton +drew up at a wicket gate which led into a plantation of firs, choked +with a thick undergrowth. Here the lady descended and beckoned Spring +to alight. + +"Wait down the lane," said she to the coachman. "We shall be some +little time. Now, Mr. Spring, will you kindly follow me? I have written +a letter which makes an appointment." + +She passed swiftly through the plantation by a tortuous path, then over +a stile, and past another wood, loud with the deep chuckling of +pheasants. At the farther side was a fine rolling park, studded with +oak trees, and stretching away to a splendid Elizabethan mansion, with +balustraded terraces athwart its front. Across the park, and making for +the wood, a solitary figure was walking. + +The lady gripped the prize-fighter by the wrist. "That is your man," +said she. + +They were standing under the shadow of the trees, so that he was very +visible to them, while they were out of his sight. Tom Spring looked +hard at the man, who was still some hundreds of yards away. He was a +tall, powerful fellow, clad in a blue coat with gilt buttons, which +gleamed in the sun. He had white corded breeches and riding-boots. +He walked with a vigorous step, and with every few strides he struck his +leg with a dog-whip which hung from his wrist. There was a great +suggestion of purpose and of energy in the man's appearance and bearing. + +"Why, he's a gentleman!" said Spring. "Look 'ere, ma'am, this is all a +bit out of my line. I've nothing against the man, and he can mean me no +harm. What am I to do with him?" + +"Fight him! Smash him! That is what you are here for." + +Tom Spring turned on his heel with disgust. "I'm here to fight, ma'am, +but not to smash a man who has no thought of fighting. It's off." + +"You don't like the look of him," hissed the woman. "You have met your +master." + +"That is as may be. It is no job for me." + +The woman's face was white with vexation and anger. + +"You fool!" she cried. "Is all to go wrong at the last minute? +There are fifty pounds here they are in this paper--would you refuse +them?" + +"It's a cowardly business. I won't do it." + +"Cowardly? You are giving the man two stone, and he can beat any +amateur in England." + +The young pugilist felt relieved. After all, if he could fairly earn +that fifty pounds, a good deal depended upon his winning it. If he +could only be sure that this was a worthy and willing antagonist! + +"How do you know he is so good?" he asked. + +"I ought to know. I am his wife." + +As she spoke she turned, and was gone like a flash among the bushes. +The man was quite close now, and Tom Spring's scruples weakened as he +looked at him. He was a powerful, broad-chested fellow, about thirty, +with a heavy, brutal face, great thatched eyebrows, and a hard-set +mouth. He could not be less than fifteen stone in weight, and he +carried himself like a trained athlete. As he swung along he suddenly +caught a glimpse of Spring among the trees, and he at once quickened his +pace and sprang over the stile which separated them. + +"Halloa!" said he, halting a few yards from him, and staring him up and +down. "Who the devil are you, and where the devil did you come from, +and what the devil are you doing on my property?" + +His manner was even more offensive than his words. It brought a flush +of anger to Spring's cheeks. + +"See here, mister," said he, "civil words is cheap. You've no call to +speak to me like that." + +"You infernal rascal!" cried the other. "I'll show you the way out of +that plantation with the toe of my boot. Do you dare to stand there on +my land and talk back at me?" He advanced with a menacing face and his +dog-whip half raised. "Well, are you going?" he cried, as he swung it +into the air. + +Tom Spring jumped back to avoid the threatened blow. + +"Go slow, mister," said he. "It's only fair that you should know where +you are. I'm Spring, the prize-fighter. Maybe you have heard my name." + +"I thought you were a rascal of that breed," said the man. "I've had +the handling of one or two of you gentry before, and I never found one +that could stand up to me for five minutes. Maybe you would like to +try?" + +"If you hit me with that dog-whip, mister----" + +"There, then!" He gave the young man a vicious cut across the shoulder. +"Will that help you to fight?" + +"I came here to fight" said Tom Spring, licking his dry lips. "You can +drop that whip, mister, for I _will_ fight. I'm a trained man and +ready. But you would have it. Don't blame me." + +The man was stripping the blue coat from his broad shoulders. There was +a sprigged satin vest beneath it, and they were hung together on an +alder branch. + +"Trained are you?" he muttered. "By the Lord, I'll train you before I +am through!" + +Any fears that Tom Spring may have had lest he should be taking some +unfair advantage were set at rest by the man's assured manner and by the +splendid physique, which became more apparent as he discarded a black +satin tie, with a great ruby glowing in its centre, and threw aside the +white collar which cramped his thick muscular neck. He then, very +deliberately, undid a pair of gold sleeve-links, and, rolling up his +shirt-sleeves, disclosed two hairy and muscular arms, which would have +served as a model for a sculptor. + +"Come nearer the stile," said he, when he had finished. "There is more +room." + +The prize-fighter had kept pace with the preparations of his formidable +antagonist. His own hat, coat, and vest hung suspended upon a bush. +He advanced now into the open space which the other had indicated. + +"Ruffianing or fighting?" asked the amateur, coolly. + +"Fighting." + +"Very good," said the other. "Put up your hands, Spring. Try it out." + +They were standing facing one another in a grassy ring intersected by +the path at the outlet of the wood. The insolent and overbearing look +had passed away from the amateur's face, but a grim half-smile was +on his lips and his eyes shone fiercely from under his tufted brows. +From the way in which he stood it was very clear that he was a +past-master at the game. Tom Spring, as he paced lightly to right +and left, looking for an opening, became suddenly aware that neither +with Stringer nor with the redoubtable Painter himself had he ever faced +a more business-like opponent. The amateur's left was well forward, his +guard low, his body leaning back from the haunches, and his head well +out of danger. Spring tried a light lead at the mark, and another +at the face, but in an instant his adversary was on to him with a shower +of sledge-hammer blows which it took him all his time to avoid. +He sprang back, but there was no getting away from that whirlwind of +muscle and bone. A heavy blow beat down his guard, a second landed on +his shoulder, and over went the prize-fighter with the other on the top +of him. Both sprang to their feet, glared at each other, and fell into +position once more. + +There could be no doubt that the amateur was not only heavier, but also +the harder and stronger man. Twice again he rushed Spring down, once by +the weight of his blows, and once by closing and hurling him on to his +back. Such falls might have shaken the fight out of a less game man, +but to Tom Spring they were but incidents in his daily trade. Though +bruised and winded he was always up again in an instant. Blood was +trickling from his mouth, but his steadfast blue eyes told of the +unshaken spirit within. + +He was accustomed now to his opponent's rushing tactics, and he was +ready for them. The fourth round was the same as to attack, but it was +very different in defence. Up to now the young man had given way and +been fought down. This time he stood his ground. As his opponent +rushed in he met him with a tremendous straight hit from his left hand, +delivered with the full force of his body, and doubled in effect by the +momentum of the charge. So stunning was the concussion that the +pugilist himself recoiled from it across the grassy ring. The amateur +staggered back and leaned his shoulder on a tree-trunk, his hand up to +his face. + +"You'd best drop it," said Spring. "You'll get pepper if you don't." + +The other gave an inarticulate curse, and spat out a mouthful of blood. + +"Come on!" said he. + +Even now the pugilist found that he had no light task before him. +Warned by his misadventure, the heavier man no longer tried to win the +battle at a rush, nor to beat down an accomplished boxer as he would a +country hawbuck at a village fair. He fought with his head and his feet +as well as with his hands. Spring had to admit in his heart that, +trained to the ring, this man must have been a match for the best. +His guard was strong, his counter was like lightning, he took punishment +like a man of iron, and when he could safely close he always brought his +lighter antagonist to the ground with a shattering fall. But the one +stunning blow which he had courted before he was taught respect for his +adversary weighed heavily on him all the time. His senses had lost +something of their quickness and his blows of their sting. He was +fighting, too, against a man who, of all the boxers who have made their +names great, was the safest, the coolest, the least likely to give +anything away, or lose an advantage gained. Slowly, gradually, round by +round, he was worn down by his cool, quick-stepping, sharp-hitting +antagonist. At last he stood exhausted, breathing hoarsely, his face, +what could be seen of it, purple with his exertions. He had reached the +limit of human endurance. His opponent stood waiting for him, bruised +and beaten, but as cool, as ready, as dangerous as ever. + +"You'd best drop it, I tell you," said he. "You're done." + +But the other's manhood would not have it so. With a snarl of fury he +cast his science to the winds, and rushed madly to slogging with both +hands. For a moment Spring was overborne. Then he side-stepped +swiftly; there was the crash of his blow, and the amateur tossed up his +arms and fell all asprawl, his great limbs outstretched, his disfigured +face to the sky. + +For a moment Tom Spring stood looking down at his unconscious opponent. +The next he felt a soft, warm hand upon his bare arm. The woman was at +his elbow. + +"Now is your time!" she cried, her dark eyes aflame. "Go in! Smash +him!" + +Spring shook her off with a cry of disgust, but she was back in an +instant. + +"I'll make it seventy-five pounds--" + +"The fight's over, ma'am. I can't touch him." + +"A hundred pounds--a clear hundred! I have it here in my bodice. +Would you refuse a hundred?" + +He turned on his heel. She darted past him and tried to kick at the +face of the prostrate man. Spring dragged her roughly away, before she +could do him a mischief. + +"Stand clear!" he cried, giving her a shake. "You should take shame to +hit a fallen man." + +With a groan the injured man turned on his side. Then he slowly sat up +and passed his wet hand over his face. Finally, he staggered to his +feet. + +"Well," he said, shrugging his broad shoulders, "it was a fair fight. +I've no complaint to make. I was Jackson's favourite pupil, but I give +you best." Suddenly his eyes lit upon the furious face of the woman." +Hulloa, Betty!" he cried. "So I have you to thank. I might have +guessed it when I had your letter." + +"Yes, my lord," said she, with a mock curtsey. "You have me to thank. +Your little wife managed it all. I lay behind those bushes, and I saw +you beaten like a hound. You haven't had all that I had planned for +you, but I think it will be some little time before any woman loves you +for the sake of your appearance. Do you remember the words, my lord? +Do you remember the words?" + +He stood stunned for a moment. Then he snatched his whip from the +ground, and looked at her from under his heavy brows. + +"I believe you're the devil!" he cried. + +"I wonder what the governess will think?" said she. + +He flared into furious rage and rushed at her with his whip. Tom Spring +threw himself before him with his arms out. + +"It won't do, sir; I can't stand by." + +The man glared at his wife over the prize-fighter's shoulder. + +"So it's for dear George's sake!" he said, with a bitter laugh. +"But poor, broken-nosed George seems to have gone to the wall. Taken up +with a prize-fighter, eh? Found a fancy man for yourself!" + +"You liar!" she gasped. + +"Ha, my lady, that stings your pride, does it? Well, you shall stand +together in the dock for trespass and assault. What a picture--great +Lord, what a picture!" + +"You wouldn't, John!" + +"Wouldn't I, by--! you stay there three minutes and see if I wouldn't." +He seized his clothes from the bush, and staggered off as swiftly as he +could across the field, blowing a whistle as he ran. + +"Quick! quick!" cried the woman. "There's not an instant to lose." +Her face was livid, and she was shivering and panting with apprehension. +"He'll raise the country. It would be awful--awful!" + +She ran swiftly down the tortuous path, Spring following after her and +dressing as he went. In a field to the right a gamekeeper, his gun in +his hand, was hurrying towards the whistling. Two labourers, loading +hay, had stopped their work and were looking about them, their +pitchforks in their hands. + +But the path was empty, and the phaeton awaited them, the horse cropping +the grass by the lane-side, the driver half asleep on his perch. The +woman sprang swiftly in and motioned Spring to stand by the wheel. + +"There is your fifty pounds," she said, handing him a paper. "You were +a fool not to turn it into a hundred when you had the chance. I've done +with you now." + +"But where am I to go?" asked the prize-fighter, gazing around him at +the winding lanes. + +"To the devil!" said she. "Drive on, Johnson!" + +The phaeton whirled down the road and vanished round a curve. +Tom Spring was alone. + +Everywhere over the countryside he heard shoutings and whistlings. +It was clear that so long as she escaped the indignity of sharing his +fate his employer was perfectly indifferent as to whether he got into +trouble or not. Tom Spring began to feel indifferent himself. He was +weary to death, his head was aching from the blows and falls which he +had received, and his feelings were raw from the treatment which he had +undergone. He walked slowly some few yards down the lane, but had no +idea which way to turn to reach Tunbridge Wells. In the distance he +heard the baying of dogs, and he guessed that they were being set upon +his track. In that case he could not hope to escape them, and might +just as well await them where he was. He picked out a heavy stake from +the hedge, and he sat down moodily waiting, in a very dangerous temper, +for what might befall him. + +But it was a friend and not a foe who came first into sight. Round the +corner of the lane flew a small dog-cart, with a fast-trotting chestnut +cob between the shafts. In it was seated the rubicund landlord of the +Royal Oak, his whip going, his face continually flying round to glance +behind him. + +"Jump in, Mr. Spring jump in!" he cried, as he reined up. "They're all +coming, dogs and men! Come on! Now, hud up, Ginger!" Not another +word did he say until two miles of lanes had been left behind them at +racing speed and they were back in safety upon the Brighton road. +Then he let the reins hang loose on the pony's back, and he slapped +Tom Spring with his fat hand upon the shoulder. + +"Splendid!" he cried, his great red face shining with ecstasy. +"Oh, Lord! but it was beautiful!" + +"What!" cried Spring. "You saw the fight?" + +"Every round of it! By George! to think that I should have lived to +have had such a fight all to myself! Oh, but it was grand," he cried, +in a frenzy of delight, "to see his lordship go down like a pithed ox +and her ladyship clapping her hands behind the bush! I guessed there +was something in the wind, and I followed you all the way. When you +stopped, I tethered little Ginger in a grove, and I crept after you +through the wood. It's as well I did, for the whole parish was up!" + +But Tom Spring was sitting gazing at him in blank amazement. + +"His lordship!" he gasped. + +"No less, my boy. Lord Falconbridge, Chairman of the Bench, Deputy +Lieutenant of the County, Peer of the Realm--that's your man." + +"Good Lord!" + +"And you didn't know? It's as well, for maybe you wouldn't have whacked +it in as hard if you had; and, mind you, if you hadn't, he'd have beat +you. There's not a man in this county could stand up to him. He takes +the poachers and gipsies two and three at a time. He's the terror of +the place. But you did him--did him fair. Oh, man, it was fine!" + +Tom Spring was too much dazed by what he heard to do more than sit and +wonder. It was not until he had got back to the comforts of the inn, +and after a bath had partaken of a solid meal, that he sent for +Mr. Cordery the landlord. To him he confided the whole train of events +which had led up to his remarkable experience, and he begged him to +throw such light as he could upon it. Cordery listened with keen +interest and many chuckles to the story. Finally he left the room and +returned with a frayed newspaper in his hand, which he smoothed out upon +his knee. + +"It's the _Pantiles Gazette_, Mr. Spring, as gossiping a rag as ever was +printed. I expect there will be a fine column in it if ever it gets its +prying nose into this day's doings. However, we are mum and her +ladyship is mum, and, my word! his lordship is mum, though he did, in +his passion, raise the hue and cry on you. Here it is, Mr. Spring, and +I'll read it to you while you smoke your pipe. It's dated July of last +year, and it goes like this-- + +"'FRACAS IN HIGH LIFE.--It is an open secret that the differences which +have for some years been known to exist between Lord F---- and his +beautiful wife have come to a head during the last few days. +His lordship's devotion to sport, and also, as it is whispered, some +attentions which he has shown to a humbler member of his household, +have, it is said, long alienated Lady F----'s affection. Of late she +has sought consolation and friendship with a gentleman whom we will +designate as Sir George W----n. Sir George, who is a famous ladykiller, +and as well-proportioned a man as any in England, took kindly to the +task of consoling the disconsolate fair. The upshot, however, was +vastly unfortunate, both for the lady's feelings and for the gentleman's +beauty. The two friends were surprised in a rendezvous near the house +by Lord F--- himself at the head of a party of his servants. Lord F-- +then and there, in spite of the shrieks of the lady, availed himself of +his strength and skill to administer such punishment to the unfortunate +Lothario as would, in his own parting words, prevent any woman from +loving him again for the sake of his appearance. Lady F---- has left +his lordship and betaken herself to London, where, no doubt, she is now +engaged in nursing the damaged Apollo. It is confidently expected that +a duel will result from the affair, but no particulars have reached us +up to the hour of going to press.'" + +The landlord laid down the paper. "You've been moving in high life, Mr. +Thomas Spring," said he. + +The pugilist passed his hand over his battered face. "Well, Mr. +Cordery," said he, "low life is good enough for me." + + + +OUT OF THE RUNNING + + +It was on the North Side of Butser on the long swell of the Hampshire +Downs. Beneath, some two miles away, the grey roofs and red houses of +Petersfield peeped out from amid the trees which surrounded it. +From the crest of the low hills downwards the country ran in low, +sweeping curves, as though some green primeval sea had congealed in the +midst of a ground swell and set for ever into long verdant rollers. +At the bottom, just where the slope borders upon the plain, there stood +a comfortable square brick farmhouse, with a grey plume of smoke +floating up from the chimney. Two cowhouses, a cluster of hayricks, and +a broad stretch of fields, yellow with the ripening wheat, formed a +fitting setting to the dwelling of a prosperous farmer. + +The green slopes were dotted every here and there with dark clumps of +gorse bushes, all alight with the flaming yellow blossoms. To the left +lay the broad Portsmouth Road curving over the hill, with a line of +gaunt telegraph posts marking its course. Beyond a huge white chasm +opened in the grass, where the great Butser chalk quarry had been sunk. +From its depths rose the distant murmur of voices, and the clinking of +hammers. Just above it, between two curves of green hill, might be seen +a little triangle of leaden-coloured sea, flecked with a single white +sail. + +Down the Portsmouth Road two women were walking, one elderly, florid +and stout, with a yellow-brown Paisley shawl and a coarse serge dress, +the other young and fair, with large grey eyes, and a face which was +freckled like a plover's egg. Her neat white blouse with its trim black +belt, and plain, close-cut skirt, gave her an air of refinement which +was wanting in her companion, but there was sufficient resemblance +between them to show that they were mother and daughter. The one was +gnarled and hardened and wrinkled by rough country work, .the other +fresh and pliant from the benign influence of the Board School; but +their step, their slope of the shoulders, and the movement of their hips +as they walked, all marked them as of one blood. + +"Mother, I can see father in the five-acre field," cried the younger, +pointing down in the direction of the farm. + +The older woman screwed up her eyes, and shaded them with her hand. + +"Who's that with him?" she asked. + +"There's Bill." + +"Oh, he's nobody. He's a-talkin' to some one." + +"I don't know, mother. It's some one in a straw hat. Adam Wilson of +the Quarry wears a straw hat." + +"Aye, of course, it's Adam sure enough. Well, I'm glad we're back home +time enough to see him. He'd have been disappointed if he had come over +and you'd been away. Drat this dust! It makes one not fit to be seen." + +The same idea seemed to have occurred to her daughter, for she had taken +out her handkerchief, and was flicking her sleeves and the front of her +dress. + +"That's right, Dolly. There's some on your flounces. But, Lor' bless +you, Dolly, it don't matter to him. It's not your dress he looks at, +but your face. Now I shouldn't be very surprised if he hadn't come over +to ask you from father." + +"I think he'd best begin by asking me from myself," remarked the girl. + +"Ah, but you'll have him, Dolly, when he does." + +"I'm not so sure of that, mother." The older woman threw up her hands. +"There! I don't know what the gals are coming to. I don't indeed. +It's the Board Schools as does it. When I was a gal, if a decent young +man came a-courtin', we gave him a 'Yes' or a 'No.' We didn't keep him +hanging on like a half-clipped sheep. Now, here are you with two of +them at your beck, and you can't give an answer to either of them." + +"Why, mother, that's it," cried the daughter, with something between a +laugh and a sob. "May be if they came one at a time I'd know what to +say." + +"What have you agin Adam Wilson?" + +"Nothing. But I have nothing against Elias Mason." + +"Nor I, either. But I know which is the most proper-looking young man." + +"Looks isn't everything, mother. You should hear Elias Mason talk. +You should hear him repeat poetry." + +"Well, then, have Elias." + +"Ah, but I haven't the heart to turn against Adam." + +"There, now! I never saw such a gal. You're like a calf betwixt two +hayricks; you have a nibble at the one and a nibble at the other. +There's not one in a hundred as lucky as you. Here's Adam with three +pound ten a week, foreman already at the Chalk Works, and likely enough +to be manager if he's spared. And there's Elias, head telegraph clerk +at the Post Office, and earning good money too. You can't keep 'em both +on. You've got to take one or t'other, and it's my belief you'll get +neither if you don't stop this shilly-shally." + +"I don't care. I don't want them. What do they want to come bothering +for?" + +"It's human natur', gal. They must do it. If they didn't, you'd be the +first to cry out maybe. It's in the Scriptures. 'Man is born for +woman, as the sparks fly upwards.'" She looked up out of the corner of +her eyes as if not very sure of her quotation. "Why, here be that +dratted Bill. The good book says as we are all made of clay, but Bill +does show it more than any lad I ever saw." + +They had turned from the road into a narrow, deeply rutted lane, which +led towards the farm. A youth was running towards them, loose-jointed +and long-limbed, with a boyish, lumbering haste, clumping fearlessly +with his great yellow clogs through pool and mire. He wore brown +corduroys, a dingy shirt, and a red handkerchief tied loosely round his +neck. A tattered old straw hat was tilted back upon his shock of +coarse, matted, brown hair. His sleeves were turned up to the elbows, +and his arms and face were both tanned and roughened until his skin +looked like the bark of some young sapling. As he looked up at the +sound of the steps, his face with its blue eyes, brown skin, and first +slight down of a tawny moustache, was not an uncomely one, were it not +marred by the heavy, stolid, somewhat sulky expression of the country +yokel. + +"Please, mum," said he, touching the brim of his wreck of a hat, +"measter seed ye coming. He sent to say as 'ow 'e were in the five-acre +lot." + +"Run back, Bill, and say that we are coming," answered the farmer's +wife, and the awkward figure sped away upon its return journey. + +"I say, mother, what is Bill's other name?" asked the girl, with languid +curiosity. + +"He's not got one." + +"No name?" + +"No, Dolly, he's a found child, and never had no father or mother that +ever was heard of. We had him from the work'us when he was seven, to +chop mangel wurzel, and here he's been ever since, nigh twelve year. +He was Bill there, and he's Bill here." + +"What fun! Fancy having only one name. I wonder what they'll call his +wife?" + +"I don't know. Time to talk of that when he can keep one. But now, +Dolly dear, here's your father and Adam Wilson comin' across the field. +I want to see you settled, Dolly. He's a steady young man. He's blue +ribbon, and has money in the Post Office." + +"I wish I knew which liked me best," said her daughter glancing from +under her hat-brim at the approaching figures. "That's the one I should +like. But it's all right, mother, and I know how to find out, so don't +you fret yourself any more." + +The suitor was a well-grown young fellow in a grey suit, with a straw +hat jauntily ribboned in red and black. He was smoking, but as he +approached he thrust his pipe into his breast-pocket, and came forward +with one hand outstretched, and the other gripping nervously at his +watch-chain. + +"Your servant, Mrs. Foster. And how are you, Miss Dolly? Another +fortnight of this and you will be starting on your harvest, I suppose." + +"It's bad to say beforehand what you will do in this country," said +Farmer Foster, with an apprehensive glance round the heavens. + +"It's all God's doing," remarked his wife piously. + +"And He does the best for us, of course. Yet He does seem these last +seasons to have kind of lost His grip over the weather. Well, maybe it +will be made up to us this year. And what did you do at Horndean, +mother?" + +The old couple walked in front, and the other dropped behind, the young +man lingering, and taking short steps to increase the distance. + +"I say, Dolly," he murmured at last, flushing slightly as he glanced at +her, "I've been speaking to your father about--you know what." + +But Dolly didn't know what. She hadn't the slightest idea of what. +She turned her pretty little freckled face up to him and was full of +curiosity upon the point. + +Adam Wilson's face flushed to a deeper red. "You know very well," said +he, impatiently, "I spoke to him about marriage." + +"Oh, then it's him you want." + +"There, that's the way you always go on. It's easy to make fun, but I +tell you that I am in earnest, Dolly. Your father says that he would +have no objection to me in the family. You know that I love you true." + +"How do I know that then?" + +"I tell you so. What more can I do?" + +"Did you ever do anything to prove it?" + +"Set me something and see if I don't do it." + +"Then you haven't done anything yet?" + +"I don't know. I've done what I could." + +"How about this?" She pulled a little crumpled sprig of dog-rose, such +as grows wild in the wayside hedges, out of her bosom. "Do you know +anything of that?" + +He smiled, and was about to answer, when his brows suddenly contracted, +his mouth set, and his eyes flashed angrily as they focussed some +distant object. Following his gaze, she saw a slim, dark figure, some +three fields off, walking swiftly in their direction. "It's my friend, +Mr. Elias Mason," said she. + +"Your friend!" He had lost his diffidence in his anger. "I know all +about that. What does he want here every second evening?" + +"Perhaps he wonders what you want." + +"Does he? I wish he'd come and ask me. I'd let him see what I wanted. +Quick too." + +"He can see it now. He has taken off his hat to me," Dolly said, +laughing. + +Her laughter was the finishing touch. He had meant to be impressive, +and it seemed that he had only been ridiculous. He swung round upon his +heel. + +"Very well, Miss Foster," said he, in a choking voice, "that's all +right. We know where we are now. I didn't come here to be made a fool +of, so good day to you." He plucked at his hat, and walked furiously +off in the direction from which they had come. She looked after him, +half frightened, in the hope of seeing some sign that he had relented, +but he strode onwards with a rigid neck, and vanished at a turn of the +lane. + +When she turned again her other visitor was close upon her--a thin, +wiry, sharp-featured man with a sallow face, and a quick, nervous +manner. + +"Good evening, Miss Foster. I thought that I would walk over as the +weather was so beautiful, but I did not expect to have the good fortune +to meet you in the fields." + +"I am sure that father will be very glad to see you, Mr. Mason. +You must come in and have a glass of milk." + +"No, thank you, Miss Foster, I should very much prefer to stay out here +with you. But I am afraid that I have interrupted you in a chat. +Was not that Mr. Adam Wilson who left you this moment?" His manner was +subdued, but his questioning eyes and compressed lips told of a deeper +and more furious jealousy than that of his rival. + +"Yes. It was Mr. Adam Wilson." There was something about Mason, a +certain concentration of manner, which made it impossible for the girl +to treat him lightly as she had done the other. + +"I have noticed him here several times lately." + +"Yes. He is head foreman, you know, at the big quarry." + +"Oh, indeed. He is fond of your society, Miss Foster. I can't blame +him for that, can I, since I am equally so myself. But I should like to +come to some understanding with you. You cannot have misunderstood what +my feelings are to you? I am in a position to offer you a comfortable +home. Will you be my wife, Miss Foster?" + +Dolly would have liked to make some jesting reply, but it was hard to be +funny with those two eager, fiery eyes fixed so intently upon her own. +She began to walk slowly towards the house, while he paced along beside +her, still waiting for his answer. + +"You must give me a little time, Mr. Mason," she said at last. +"'Marry in haste,' they say, 'and repent at leisure.'" + +"But you shall never have cause to repent." + +"I don't know. One hears such things." + +"You shall be the happiest woman in England." + +"That sounds very nice. You are a poet, Mr. Mason, are you not?" + +"I am a lover of poetry." + +"And poets are fond of flowers?" + +"I am very fond of flowers." + +"Then perhaps you know something of these?" She took out the humble +little sprig, and held it out to him with an arch questioning glance. +He took it and pressed it to his lips. + +"I know that it has been near you, where I should wish to be," said he. + +"Good evening, Mr. Mason!" It was Mrs. Foster who had come out to meet +them. "Where's Mr.----? Oh--ah! Yes, of course. The teapot's on the +table, and you'd best come in afore it's over-drawn." + +When Elias Mason left the farmhouse that evening, he drew Dolly aside at +the door. + +"I won't be able to come before Saturday," said he. + +"We shall be glad to see you, Mr. Mason." + +"I shall want my answer then." + +"Oh, I cannot give any promise, you know." + +"But I shall live in hope." + +"Well, no one can prevent you from doing that." As she came to realize +her power over him she had lost something of her fear, and could answer +him now nearly as freely as if he were simple Adam Wilson. + +She stood at the door, leaning against the wooden porch, with the long +trailers of the honeysuckle framing her tall, slight figure. The great +red sun was low in the west, its upper rim peeping over the low hills, +shooting long, dark shadows from the beech-tree in the field, from the +little group of tawny cows, and from the man who walked away from her. +She smiled to see how immense the legs were, and how tiny the body in +the great flat giant which kept pace beside him. In front of her in the +little garden the bees droned, a belated butterfly or an early moth +fluttered slowly over the flower-beds, a thousand little creatures +buzzed and hummed, all busy working out their tiny destinies, as she, +too, was working out hers, and each doubtless looking upon their own +as the central point of the universe. A few months for the gnat, a few +years for the girl, but each was happy now in the heavy summer air. +A beetle scuttled out upon the gravel path and bored onwards, its six +legs all working hard, butting up against stones, upsetting itself on +ridges, but still gathering itself up and rushing onwards to some +all-important appointment somewhere in the grass plot. A bat fluttered +up from behind the beech-tree. A breath of night air sighed softly over +the hillside with a little tinge of the chill sea spray in its coolness. +Dolly Foster shivered, and had turned to go in when her mother came out +from the passage. + +"Whatever is that Bill doing there?" she cried. + +Dolly looked, and saw for the first time that the nameless farm-labourer +was crouching under the beech, his browns and yellows blending with the +bark behind him. + +"You go out o' that, Bill!" screamed the farmer's wife. + +"What be I to do?" he asked humbly, slouching forward. + +"Go, cut chaff in the barn." He nodded and strolled away, a comical +figure in his mud-crusted boots, his strap-tied corduroys and his +almond-coloured skin. + +"Well, then, you've taken Elias," said the mother, passing her hand +round her daughter's waist. "I seed him a-kissing your flower. +Well, I'm sorry for Adam, for he is a well-grown young man, a proper +young man, blue ribbon, with money in the Post Office. Still some one +must suffer, else how could we be purified. If the milk's left alone it +won't ever turn into butter. It wants troubling and stirring and +churning. That's what we want, too, before we can turn angels. It's +just the same as butter." + +Dolly laughed. "I have not taken Elias yet," said she. + +"No? What about Adam then?" + +"Nor him either." + +"Oh, Dolly girl, can you not take advice from them that is older. +I tell you again that you'll lose them both." + +"No, no, mother. Don't you fret yourself. It's all right. But you can +see how hard it is. I like Elias, for he can speak so well, and is so +sure and masterful. And I like Adam because--well, because I know very +well that Adam loves me." + +"Well, bless my heart, you can't marry them both. You'd like all the +pears in the basket." + +"No, mother, but I know how to choose. You see this bit of a flower, +dear." + +"It's a common dog-rose." + +"Well, where d'you think I found it?" + +"In the hedge likely." + +"No, but on my window-ledge." + +"Oh, but when?" + +"This morning. It was six when I got up, and there it lay fresh and +sweet, and new-plucked. 'Twas the same yesterday and the day before. +Every morning there it lies. It's a common flower, as you say, mother, +but it is not so common to find a man who'll break short his sleep day +after day just to show a girl that the thought of her is in his heart." + +"And which was it?" + +"Ah, if I knew! I think it's Elias. He's a poet, you know, and poets +do nice things like that." + +"And how will you be sure?" + +"I'll know before morning. He will come again, whichever it is. +And whichever it is he's the man for me. Did father ever do that for +you before you married?" + +"I can't say he did, dear. But father was always a powerful heavy +sleeper." + +"Well then, mother, you needn't fret any more about me, for as sure as I +stand here, I'll tell you to-morrow which of them it is to be." + +That evening the farmer's daughter set herself to clearing off all those +odd jobs which accumulate in a large household. She polished the dark, +old-fashioned furniture in the sitting-room. She cleared out the +cellar, re-arranged the bins, counted up the cider, made a great +cauldron full of raspberry jam, potted, papered, and labelled it. +Long after the whole household was in bed she pushed on with her +self-imposed tasks until the night was far gone and she very spent and +weary. Then she stirred up the smouldering kitchen fire and made +herself a cup of tea, and, carrying it up to her own room, she sat +sipping it and glancing over an old bound volume of the _Leisure Hour_. +Her seat was behind the little dimity window curtains, whence she could +see without being seen. + +The morning had broken, and a brisk wind had sprung up with the dawn. +The sky was of the lightest, palest blue, with a scud of flying white +clouds shredded out over the face of it, dividing, coalescing, +overtaking one another, but sweeping ever from the pink of the east to +the still shadowy west. The high, eager voice of the wind whistled and +sang outside, rising from moan to shriek, and then sinking again to a +dull mutter and grumble. Dolly rose to wrap her shawl around her, and +as she sat down again in an instant her doubts were resolved, and she +had seen that for which she had waited. + +Her window faced the inner yard, and was some eight feet from the +ground. A man standing beneath it could not be seen from above. +But she saw enough to tell her all that she wished to know. Silently, +suddenly, a hand had appeared from below, had laid a sprig of flower +upon her ledge, and had disappeared. It did not take two seconds; she +saw no face, she heard no sound, but she had seen the hand and she +wanted nothing more. With a smile she threw herself upon the bed, drew +a rug over her, and dropped into a heavy slumber. + +She was awakened by her mother plucking at her shoulder. + +"It's breakfast time, Dolly, but I thought you would be weary, so I +brought you lip some bread and coffee. Sit up, like a dearie, and take +it." + +"All right, mother. Thank you. I'm all dressed, so I'll be ready to +come down soon." + +"Bless the gal, she's never had her things off! And, dearie me, here's +the flower outside the window, sure enough! Well, and did you see who +put it there?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"Who was it then?" + +"It was Adam." + +"Was it now? Well, I shouldn't have thought that he had it in him. +Then Adam it's to be. Well, he's steady, and that's better than being +clever, yea, seven-and-seventy fold. Did he come across the yard?" + +"No, along by the wall." + +"How did you see him then?" + +"I didn't see him." + +"Then how can you tell?" + +"I saw his hand." + +"But d'you tell me you know Adam's hand?" + +"It would be a blind man that couldn't tell it from Elias' hand. +Why, the one is as brown as that coffee, and the other as white as the +cup, with great blue veins all over it." + +"Well, now I shouldn't have thought of it, but so it is. Well, it'll be +a busy day, Dolly. Just hark to the wind!" + +It had, indeed, increased during the few hours since dawn to a very +violent tempest. The panes of the window rattled and shook. Glancing +out, Dolly saw cabbage leaves and straw whirling up past the casement. + +"The great hayrick is giving. They're all out trying to prop it up. +My, but it do blow!" + +It did indeed! When Dolly came downstairs it was all that she could do +to push her way through the porch. All along the horizon the sky was +brassy-yellow, but above the wind screamed and stormed, and the torn, +hurrying clouds were now huddled together, and now frayed off into +countless tattered streamers. In the field near the house her father +and three or four labourers were working with poles and ropes, hatless, +their hair and beards flying, staving up a great bulging hayrick. +Dolly watched them for a moment, and then, stooping her head and +rounding her shoulders, with one hand up to her little black straw hat, +she staggered off across the fields. + +Adam Wilson was at work always on a particular part of the hillside, and +hither it was that she bent her steps. He saw the trim, dapper figure, +with its flying skirts and hat-ribbons, and he came forward to meet her +with a great white crowbar in his hand. He walked slowly, however, and +his eyes were downcast, with the air of a man who still treasures a +grievance. + +"Good mornin', Miss Foster." + +"Good morning, Mr. Wilson. Oh, if you are going to be cross with me, +I'd best go home again." + +"I'm not cross, Miss Foster. I take it very kindly that you should come +out this way on such a day." + +"I wanted to say to you--I wanted to say that I was sorry if I made you +angry yesterday. I didn't mean to make fun. I didn't, indeed. It is +only my way of talking. It was so good of you, so noble of you, to let +it make no difference." + +"None at all, Dolly." He was quite radiant again. "If I didn't love +you so, I wouldn't mind what that other chap said or did. And if I +could only think that you cared more for me than for him--" + +"I do, Adam." + +"God bless you for saying so! You've lightened my heart, Dolly. I have +to go to Portsmouth for the firm today. To-morrow night I'll come and +see you." + +"Very well, Adam, I--Oh, my God, what's that!" + +A rending breaking noise in the distance, a dull rumble, and a burst of +shouts and cries. + +"The rick's down! There's been an accident!" They both started running +down the hill. + +"Father!" panted the girl, "father!" + +"He's all right!" shouted her companion, "I can see him. But there's +some one down. They're lifting him now. And here's one running like +mad for the doctor." + +A farm-labourer came rushing wildly up the lane. "Don't you go, +Missey," he cried. "A man's hurt." + +"Who?" + +"It's Bill. The rick came down and the ridge-pole caught him across the +back. He's dead, I think. Leastwise, there's not much life in him. +I'm off for Doctor Strong!" He bent his shoulder to the wind, and +lumbered off down the road. + +"Poor Bill! Thank God it wasn't father!" They were at the edge of the +field now in which the accident had taken place. The rick lay, a +shapeless mound upon the earth, with a long thick pole protruding from +it, which had formerly supported the tarpaulin drawn across it in case +of rain. Four men were walking slowly away, one shoulder humped, one +hanging, and betwixt them they bore a formless clay-coloured bundle. +He might have been a clod of the earth that he tilled, so passive, so +silent, still brown, for death itself could not have taken the burn from +his skin, but with patient, bovine eyes looking out heavily from under +half-closed lids. He breathed jerkily, but he neither cried out nor +groaned. There was something almost brutal and inhuman in his absolute +stolidity. He asked no sympathy, for his life had been without it. +It was a broken tool rather than an injured man. + +"Can I do anything, father?" + +"No, lass, no. This is no place for you. I've sent for the doctor. +He'll be here soon." + +"But where are they taking him?" + +"To the loft where be sleeps." + +"I'm sure he's welcome to my room, father." + +"No, no, lass. Better leave it alone." + +But the little group were passing as they spoke, and the injured lad had +heard the girl's words. + +"Thank ye kindly, Missey," he murmured, with a little flicker of life, +and then sank back again into his stolidity and his silence. + +Well, a farm hand is a useful thing, but what is a man to do with one +who has an injured spine and half his ribs smashed. Farmer Foster shook +his head and scratched his chin as he listened to the doctor's report. + +"He can't get better?" + +"No." + +"Then we had better move him." + +"Where to?" + +"To the work'us hospital. He came from there just this time eleven +years. It'll be like going home to him." + +"I fear that he is going home," said the doctor gravely. "But it's out +of the question to move him now. He must lie where he is for better or +for worse." + +And it certainly looked for worse rather than for better. In a little +loft above the stable he was stretched upon a tiny blue pallet which lay +upon the planks. Above were the gaunt rafters, hung with saddles, +harness, old scythe blades--the hundred things which droop, like bats, +from inside such buildings. Beneath them upon two pegs hung his own +pitiable wardrobe, the blue shirt and the grey, the stained trousers, +and the muddy coat. A gaunt chaff-cutting machine stood at his head, +and a great bin of the chaff behind it. He lay very quiet, still dumb, +still uncomplaining, his eyes fixed upon the small square window looking +out at the drifting sky, and at this strange world which God has made so +queerly--so very queerly. + +An old woman, the wife of a labourer, had been set to nurse him, for the +doctor had said that he was not to be left. She moved about the room, +arranging and ordering, grumbling to herself from time to time at this +lonely task which had been assigned to her. There were some flowers in +broken jars upon a cross-beam, and these, with a touch of tenderness, +she carried over and arranged upon a deal packing-case beside the +patient's head. He lay motionless, and as he breathed there came a +gritty rubbing sound from somewhere in his side, but he followed his +companion about with his eyes and even smiled once as she grouped the +flowers round him. + +He smiled again when he heard that Mrs. Foster and her daughter had been +to ask after him that evening. They had been down to the Post Office +together, where Dolly had sent off a letter which she had very carefully +drawn up, addressed to Elias Mason, Esq., and explaining to that +gentleman that she had formed her plans for life, and that he need +spare himself the pain of coming for his answer on the Saturday. +As they came back they stopped in the stable and inquired through the +loft door as to the sufferer. From where they stood they could hear +that horrible grating sound in his breathing. Dolly hurried away with +her face quite pale under her freckles. She was too young to face the +horrid details of suffering, and yet she was a year older than this poor +waif, who lay in silence, facing death itself. + +All night he lay very quiet--so quiet that were it not for that one +sinister sound his nurse might have doubted whether life was still in +him. She had watched him and tended him as well as she might, but she +was herself feeble and old, and just as the morning light began to steal +palely through the small loft window, she sank back in her chair in a +dreamless sleep. Two hours passed, and the first voices of the men as +they gathered for their work aroused her. She sprang to her feet. +Great heaven! the pallet was empty. She rushed down into the stables, +distracted, wringing her hands. There was no sign of him. But the +stable door was open. He must have walked-but how could he walk?--he +must have crawled--have writhed that way. Out she rushed, and as they +heard her tale, the newly risen labourers ran with her, until the farmer +with his wife and daughter were called from their breakfast by the +bustle, and joined also in this strange chase. A whoop, a cry, and they +were drawn round to the corner of the yard on which Miss Dolly's window +opened. There he lay within a few yards of the window, his face upon +the stones, his feet thrusting out from his tattered night-gown, and +his track marked by the blood from his wounded knees. One hand was +thrown out before him, and in it he held a little sprig of the pink +dog-rose. + +They carried him back, cold and stiff, to the pallet in the loft, and +the old nurse drew the sheet over him and left him, for there was no +need to watch him now. The girl had gone to her room, and her mother +followed her thither, all unnerved by this glimpse of death. + +"And to think," said she, "that it was only _him_, after all." + +But Dolly sat at the side of her bed, and sobbed bitterly in her apron. + + + +"DE PROFUNDIS" + + +So long as the oceans are the ligaments which bind together the great +broad-cast British Empire, so long will there be a dash of romance in +our minds. For the soul is swayed by the waters, as the waters are +by the moon, and when the great highways of an empire are along such +roads as these, so full of strange sights and sounds, with danger ever +running like a hedge on either side of the course, it is a dull mind +indeed which does not bear away with it some trace of such a passage. +And now, Britain lies far beyond herself, for the three-mile limit of +every seaboard is her frontier, which has been won by hammer and loom +and pick rather than by arts of war. For it is written in history that +neither king nor army can bar the path to the man who having twopence in +his strong box, and knowing well where he can turn it to threepence, +sets his mind to that one end. And as the frontier has broadened, the +mind of Britain has broadened too, spreading out until all men can see +that the ways of the island are continental, even as those of the +Continent are insular. + +But for this a price must be paid, and the price is a grievous one. +As the beast of old must have one young human life as a tribute every +year, so to our Empire we throw from day to day the pick and flower of +our youth. The engine is world-wide and strong, but the only fuel that +will drive it is the lives of British men. Thus it is that in the grey +old cathedrals, as we look round upon the brasses on the walls, we see +strange names, such names as they who reared those walls had never +heard, for it is in Peshawar, and Umballah, and Korti and Fort Pearson +that the youngsters die, leaving only a precedent and a brass behind +them. But if every man had his obelisk, even where he lay, then no +frontier line need be drawn, for a cordon of British graves would ever +show how high the Anglo-Celtic tide had lapped. + +This, then, as well as the waters which join us to the world, has done +something to tinge us with romance. For when so many have their loved +ones over the seas, walking amid hillmen's bullets, or swamp malaria, +where death is sudden and distance great, then mind communes with mind, +and strange stories arise of dream, presentiment or vision, where +the mother sees her dying son, and is past the first bitterness of her +grief ere the message comes which should have broken the news. +The learned have of late looked into the matter and have even labelled +it with a name; but what can we know more of it save that a poor +stricken soul, when hard-pressed and driven, can shoot across the earth +some ten-thousand-mile-distant picture of its trouble to the mind which +is most akin to it. Far be it from me to say that there lies no such +power within us, for of all things which the brain will grasp the last +will be itself; but yet it is well to be very cautious over such +matters, for once at least I have known that which was within the laws +of nature seem to be far upon the further side of them. + +John Vansittart was the younger partner of the firm of Hudson and +Vansittart, coffee exporters of the Island of Ceylon, three-quarters +Dutchman by descent, but wholly English in his sympathies. For years I +had been his agent in London, and when in '72 he came over to England +for a three months' holiday, he turned to me for the introductions which +would enable him to see something of town and country life. Armed with +seven letters he left my offices, and for many weeks scrappy notes from +different parts of the country let me know that he had found favour in +the eyes of my friends. Then came word of his engagement to Emily +Lawson, of a cadet branch of the Hereford Lawsons, and at the very tail +of the first flying rumour the news of his absolute marriage, for the +wooing of a wanderer must be short, and the days were already crowding +on towards the date when he must be upon his homeward journey. They +were to return together to Colombo in one of the firm's own thousand-ton +barque-rigged sailing ships, and this was to be their princely +honeymoon, at once a necessity and a delight. + +Those were the royal days of coffee-planting in Ceylon, before a single +season and a rotten fungus drove a whole community through years of +despair to one of the greatest commercial victories which pluck and +ingenuity ever won. Not often is it that men have the heart when their +one great industry is withered to rear up in a few years another as rich +to take its place, and the tea-fields of Ceylon are as true a monument +to courage as is the lion at Waterloo. But in '72 there was no cloud +yet above the skyline, and the hopes of the planters were as high and as +bright as the hillsides on which they reared their crops. Vansittart +came down to London with his young and beautiful wife. I was +introduced, dined with them, and it was finally arranged that I, since +business called me also to Ceylon, should be a fellow-passenger with +them on the _Eastern Star_, which was timed to sail on the following +Monday. + +It was on the Sunday evening that I saw him again. He was shown up into +my rooms about nine o'clock at night, with the air of a man who is +bothered and out of sorts. His hand, as I shook it, was hot and dry. + +"I wish, Atkinson," said he, "that you could give me a little lime juice +and water. I have a beastly thirst upon me, and the more I take the +more I seem to want." + +I rang and ordered a carafe and glasses. "You are flushed," said I. +"You don't look the thing." + +"No, I'm clean off colour. Got a touch of rheumatism in my back, and +don't seem to taste my food. It is this vile London that is choking me. +I'm not used to breathing air which has been used up by four million +lungs all sucking away on every side of you." He flapped his crooked +hands before his face, like a man who really struggles for his breath. + +"A touch of the sea will soon set you right." + +"Yes, I'm of one mind with you there. That's the thing for me. I want +no other doctor. If I don't get to sea to-morrow I'll have an illness. +There are no two ways about it." He drank off a tumbler of lime juice, +and clapped his two hands with his knuckles doubled up into the small of +his back. + +"That seems to ease me," said he, looking at me with a filmy eye. +"Now I want your help, Atkinson, for I am rather awkwardly placed." + +"As how?" + +"This way. My wife's mother got ill and wired for her. I couldn't +go--you know best yourself how tied I have been--so she had to go alone. +Now I've had another wire to say that she can't come to-morrow, but that +she will pick up the ship at Falmouth on Wednesday. We put in there, +you know, and in, though I count it hard, Atkinson, that a man should be +asked to believe in a mystery, and cursed if he can't do it. Cursed, +mind you, no less." He leaned forward and began to draw a catchy breath +like a man who is poised on the very edge of a sob. + +Then first it came to my mind that I had heard much of the hard-drinking +life of the island, and that from brandy came those wild words and +fevered hands. The flushed cheek and the glazing eye were those of one +whose drink is strong upon him. Sad it was to see so noble a young man +in the grip of that most bestial of all the devils. + +"You should lie down," I said, with some severity. + +He screwed up his eyes like a man who is striving to wake himself, and +looked up with an air of surprise. + +"So I shall presently," said he, quite rationally. "I felt quite swimmy +just now, but I am my own man again now. Let me see, what was I talking +about? Oh ah, of course, about the wife. She joins the ship at +Falmouth. Now I want to go round by water. I believe my health depends +upon it. I just want a little clean first-lung air to set me on my feet +again. I ask you, like a good fellow, to go to Falmouth by rail, so +that in case we should be late you may be there to look after the wife. +Put up at the Royal Hotel, and I will wire her that you are there. +Her sister will bring her down, so that it will be all plain sailing." + +"I'll do it with pleasure," said I. "In fact, I would rather go by +rail, for we shall have enough and to spare of the sea before we reach +Colombo. I believe too that you badly need a change. Now, I should go +and turn in, if I were you." + +"Yes, I will. I sleep aboard tonight. You know," he continued, as the +film settled down again over his eyes, "I've not slept well the last few +nights. I've been troubled with theolololog--that is to say, +theolological--hang it," with a desperate effort, "with the doubts of +theolologicians. Wondering why the Almighty made us, you know, and why +He made our heads swimmy, and fixed little pains into the small of our +backs. Maybe I'll do better tonight." He rose and steadied himself with +an effort against the corner of the chair back. + +"Look here, Vansittart," said I, gravely, stepping up to him, and laying +my hand upon his sleeve, "I can give you a shakedown here. You are not +fit to go out. You are all over the place. You've been mixing your +drinks." + +"Drinks!" He stared at me stupidly. + +"You used to carry your liquor better than this." + +"I give you my word, Atkinson, that I have not had a drain for two days. +It's not drink. I don't know what it is. I suppose you think this is +drink." He took up my hand in his burning grasp, and passed it over his +own forehead. + +"Great Lord!" said I. + +His skin felt like a thin sheet of velvet beneath which lies a +close-packed layer of small shot. It was smooth to the touch at any one +place, but to a finger passed along it, rough as a nutmeg grater. + +"It's all right," said he, smiling at my startled face. "I've had the +prickly heat nearly as bad." + +"But this is never prickly heat." + +"No, it's London. It's breathing bad air. But tomorrow it'll be all +right. There's a surgeon aboard, so I shall be in safe hands. I must +be off now." + +"Not you," said I, pushing him back into a chair. "This is past a joke. +You don't move from here until a doctor sees you. Just stay where you +are." + +I caught up my hat, and rushing round to the house of a neighbouring +physician, I brought him back with me. The room was empty and +Vansittart gone. I rang the bell. The servant said that the gentleman +had ordered a cab the instant that I had left, and had gone off in it. +He had told the cabman to drive to the docks. + +"Did the gentleman seem ill?" I asked. + +"Ill!" The man smiled. "No, sir, he was singin' his 'ardest all the +time." + +The information was not as reassuring as my servant seemed to think, but +I reflected that he was going straight back to the _Eastern Star_, and +that there was a doctor aboard of her, so that there was nothing which I +could do in the matter. None the less, when I thought of his thirst, +his burning hands, his heavy eye, his tripping speech, and lastly, of +that leprous forehead, I carried with me to bed an unpleasant memory of +my visitor and his visit. + +At eleven o'clock next day I was at the docks, but the _Eastern Star_ +had already moved down the river, and was nearly at Gravesend. +To Gravesend I went by train, but only to see her topmasts far off, +with a plume of smoke from a tug in front of her. I would hear no more +of my friend until I rejoined him at Falmouth. When I got back to my +offices, a telegram was awaiting me from Mrs. Vansittart, asking me to +meet her; and next evening found us both at the Royal Hotel, Falmouth, +where we were to wait for the _Eastern Star_. Ten days passed, and +there came no news of her. + +They were ten days which I am not likely to forget. On the very day +that the _Eastern Star_ had cleared from the Thames, a furious easterly +gale had sprung up, and blew on from day to day for the greater part +of a week without the sign of a lull. Such a screaming, raving, +long-drawn storm has never been known on the southern coast. From our +hotel windows the sea view was all banked in haze, with a little +rain-swept half-circle under our very eyes, churned and lashed into one +tossing stretch of foam. So heavy was the wind upon the waves that +little sea could rise, for the crest of each billow was torn shrieking +from it, and lashed broadcast over the bay. Clouds, wind, sea, all were +rushing to the west, and there, looking down at this mad jumble of +elements, I waited on day after day, my sole companion a white, silent +woman, with terror in her eyes, her forehead pressed ever against the +window, her gaze from early morning to the fall of night fixed upon +that wall of grey haze through which the loom of a vessel might come. +She said nothing, but that face of hers was one long wail of fear. + +On the fifth day I took counsel with an old seaman. I should have +preferred to have done so alone, but she saw me speak with him, and was +at our side in an instant, with parted lips and a prayer in her eyes. + +"Seven days out from London," said he, "and five in the gale. Well, the +Channel's swept clear by this wind. There's three things for it. +She may have popped into port on the French side. That's like enough." + +"No, no; he knew we were here. He would have telegraphed." + +"Ah, yes, so he would. Well, then, he might have run for it, and if he +did that he won't be very far from Madeira by now. That'll be it, marm, +you may depend." + +"Or else? You said there was a third chance." + +"Did I, marm? No, only two, I think. I don't think I said anything of +a third. Your ship's out there, depend upon it, away out in the +Atlantic, and you'll hear of it time enough, for the weather is +breaking. Now don't you fret, marm, and wait quiet, and you'll find a +real blue Cornish sky tomorrow." + +The old seaman was right in his surmise, for the next day broke calm and +bright, with only a low dwindling cloud in the west to mark the last +trailing wreaths of the storm-wrack. But still there came no word from +the sea, and no sign of the ship. Three more weary days had passed, the +weariest that I have ever spent, when there came a seafaring man to the +hotel with a letter. I gave a shout of joy. It was from the captain of +the _Eastern Star_. As I read the first lines of it I whisked my hand +over it, but she laid her own upon it and drew it away. "I have seen +it," said she, in a cold, quiet voice. "I may as well see the rest, +too." + + +"DEAR SIR," said the letter, + +"Mr. Vansittart is down with the small-pox, and we are blown so far on +our course that we don't know what to do, he being off his head and +unfit to tell us. By dead reckoning we are but three hundred miles from +Funchal, so I take it that it is best that we should push on there, get +Mr. V. into hospital, and wait in the Bay until you come. There's a +sailing-ship due from Falmouth to Funchal in a few days' time, as I +understand. This goes by the brig _Marian_ of Falmouth, and five pounds +is due to the master, +Yours respectfully, + +"JNO. HINES." + + +She was a wonderful woman that, only a chit of a girl fresh from school, +but as quiet and strong as a man. She said nothing--only pressed her +lips together tight, and put on her bonnet. + +"You are going out?" I asked. + +"Yes." + +"Can I be of use?" + +"No; I am going to the doctor's." + +"To the doctor's?" + +"Yes. To learn how to nurse a small-pox case." + +She was busy at that all the evening, and next morning we were off with +a fine ten-knot breeze in the barque _Rose of Sharon_ for Madeira. +For five days we made good time, and were no great way from the island; +but on the sixth there fell a calm, and we lay without motion on a sea +of oil, heaving slowly, but making not a foot of way. + +At ten o'clock that night Emily Vansittart and I stood leaning on the +starboard railing of the poop, with a full moon shining at our backs, +and casting a black shadow of the barque, and of our own two heads upon +the shining water. From the shadow a broadening path of moonshine +stretched away to the lonely sky-line, flickering and shimmering in the +gentle heave of the swell. We were talking with bent heads, chatting of +the calm, of the chances of wind, of the look of the sky, when there +came a sudden plop, like a rising salmon, and there, in the clear light, +John Vansittart sprang out of the water and looked up at us. + +I never saw anything clearer in my life than I saw that man. The moon +shone full upon him, and he was but three oars' lengths away. His face +was more puffed than when I had seen him last, mottled here and there +with dark scabs, his mouth and eyes open as one who is struck with some +overpowering surprise. He had some white stuff streaming from his +shoulders, and one hand was raised to his ear, the other crooked across +his breast. I saw him leap from the water into the air, and in the +dead calm the waves of his coming lapped up against the sides of the +vessel. Then his figure sank back into the water again, and I heard a +rending, crackling sound like a bundle of brushwood snapping in the fire +on a frosty night. There were no signs of him when I looked again, but +a swift swirl and eddy on the still sea still marked the spot where he +had been. How long I stood there, tingling to my finger-tips, holding +up an unconscious woman with one hand, clutching at the rail of the +vessel with the other, was more than I could afterwards tell. I had +been noted as a man of-slow and unresponsive emotions, but this time at +least I was shaken to the core. Once and twice I struck my foot upon +the deck to be certain that I was indeed the master of my own senses, +and that this was not some mad prank of an unruly brain. As I stood, +still marvelling, the woman shivered, opened her eyes, gasped, and then +standing erect with her hands upon the rail, looked out over the moonlit +sea with a face which had aged ten years in a summer night. + +"You saw his vision?" she murmured. + +"I saw something." + +"It was he! It was John! He is dead!" + +I muttered some lame words of doubt. + +"Doubtless he died at this hour," she whispered. "In hospital at +Madeira. I have read of such things. His thoughts were with me. +His vision came to me. Oh, my John, my dear, dear, lost John!" + +She broke out suddenly into a storm of weeping, and I led her down into +her cabin, where I left her with her sorrow. That night a brisk breeze +blew up from the east, and in the evening of the next day we passed the +two islets of Los Desertos, and dropped anchor at sundown in the Bay of +Funchal. The _Eastern Star_ lay no great distance from us, with the +quarantine flag flying from her main, and her Jack half-way up her peak. + +"You see," said Mrs. Vansittart, quickly. She was dry-eyed now, for she +had known how it would be. + +That night we received permission from the authorities to move on board +the _Eastern Star_. The captain, Hines, was waiting upon deck with +confusion and grief contending upon his bluff face as he sought for +words with which to break this heavy tidings, but she took the story +from his lips. + +"I know that my husband is dead," she said. "He died yesterday night, +about ten o'clock, in hospital at Madeira, did he not?" + +The seaman stared aghast. "No, marm, he died eight days ago at sea, and +we had to bury him out there, for we lay in a belt of calm, and could +not say when we might make the land." + +Well, those are the main facts about the death of John Vansittart, and +his appearance to his wife somewhere about lat. 35 N. and long. 15 W. +A clearer case of a wraith has seldom been made out, and since then it +has been told as such, and put into print as such, and endorsed by a +learned society as such, and so floated off with many others to support +the recent theory of telepathy. For myself, I hold telepathy to be +proved, but I would snatch this one case from amid the evidence, and say +that I do not think that it was the wraith of John Vansittart, but +John Vansittart himself whom we saw that night leaping into the +moonlight out of the depths of the Atlantic. It has ever been my belief +that some strange chance--one of those chances which seem so improbable +and yet so constantly occur--had becalmed us over the very spot where +the man had been buried a week before. For the rest, the surgeon +tells me that the leaden weight was not too firmly fixed, and that seven +days bring about changes which fetch a body to the surface. Coming from +the depth to which the weight would have sunk it, he explains that it +might well attain such a velocity as to carry it clear of the water. +Such is my own explanation of the matter, and if you ask me what then +became of the body, I must recall to you that snapping, crackling sound, +with the swirl in the water. The shark is a surface feeder and is +plentiful in those parts. + + + +THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR + + +It was a cold, foggy, dreary evening in May. Along the Strand blurred +patches of light marked the position of the lamps. The flaring shop +windows flickered vaguely with steamy brightness through the thick and +heavy atmosphere. + +The high lines of houses which lead down to the Embankment were all dark +and deserted, or illuminated only by the glimmering lamp of the +caretaker. At one point, however, there shone out from three windows +upon the second floor a rich flood of light, which broke the sombre +monotony of the terrace. Passers-by glanced up curiously, and drew each +other's attention to the ruddy glare, for it marked the chambers of +Francis Pericord, the inventor and electrical engineer. Long into the +watches of the night the gleam of his lamps bore witness to the untiring +energy and restless industry which was rapidly carrying him to the first +rank in his profession. + +Within the chamber sat two men. The one was Pericord himself-- +hawk-faced and angular, with the black hair and brisk bearing which +spoke of his Celtic origin. The other--thick, sturdy, and blue-eyed-- +was Jeremy Brown, the well-known mechanician. They had been partners in +many an invention, in which the creative genius of the one had been +aided by the practical abilities of the other. It was a question among +their friends as to which was the better man. + +It was no chance visit which had brought Brown into Pericord's workshop +at so late an hour. Business was to be done--business which was to +decide the failure or success of months of work, and which might affect +their whole careers. Between them lay a long brown table, stained and +corroded by strong acids, and littered with giant carboys, Faure's +accumulators, voltaic piles, coils of wire, and great blocks of +non-conducting porcelain. In the midst of all this lumber there stood a +singular whizzing, whirring machine, upon which the eyes of both +partners were riveted. + +A small square metal receptacle was connected by numerous wires to a +broad steel girdle, furnished on either side with two powerful +projecting joints. The girdle was motionless, but the joints with the +short arms attached to them flashed round every few seconds, with a +pause between each rhythmic turn. The power which moved them came +evidently from the metal box. A subtle odour of ozone was in the air. + +"How about the flanges, Brown?" asked the inventor. + +"They were too large to bring. They are seven foot by three. There is +power enough there to work them, however. I will answer for that." + +"Aluminium with an alloy of copper?" + +"Yes." + +"See how beautifully it works." Pericord stretched out a thin, nervous +hand, and pressed a button upon the machine. The joints revolved more +slowly, and came presently to a dead stop. Again he touched a spring +and the arms shivered and woke up again into their crisp metallic life. +"The experimenter need not exert his muscular powers," he remarked. +"He has only to be passive, and use his intelligence." + +"Thanks to my motor," said Brown. + +"_Our_ motor," the other broke in sharply. + +"Oh, of course," said his colleague impatiently. + +"The motor which you thought of, and which I reduced to practice--call +it what you like." + +"I call it the Brown-Pericord Motor," cried the inventor with an angry +flash of his dark eyes. "You worked out the details, but the abstract +thought is mine, and mine alone." + +"An abstract thought won't turn an engine," said Brown, doggedly. + +"That was why I took you into partnership," the other retorted, drumming +nervously with his fingers upon the table. "I invent, you build. It is +a fair division of labour." + +Brown pursed up his lips, as though by no means satisfied upon the +point. Seeing, however, that further argument was useless, he turned +his attention to the machine, which was shivering and rocking with each +swing of its arms, as though a very little more would send it skimming +from the table. + +"Is it not splendid?" cried Pericord. + +"It is satisfactory," said the more phlegmatic Anglo-Saxon. + +"There's immortality in it!" + +"There's money in it!" + +"Our names will go down with Montgolfier's." + +"With Rothschild's, I hope." + +"No, no, Brown; you take too material a view," cried the inventor, +raising his gleaming eyes from the machine to his companion. +"Our fortunes are a mere detail. Money is a thing which every +heavy-witted plutocrat in the country shares with us. My hopes rise to +something higher than that. Our true reward will come in the gratitude +and goodwill of the human race." + +Brown shrugged his shoulders. "You may have my share of that," he said. +"I am a practical man. We must test our invention." + +"Where can we do it?" + +"That is what I wanted to speak about. It must be absolutely secret. +If we had private grounds of our own it would be an easy matter, but +there is no privacy in London." + +"We must take it into the country." + +"I have a suggestion to offer," said Brown. "My brother has a place in +Sussex on the high land near Beachy Head. There is, I remember, a large +and lofty barn near the house. Will is in Scotland, but the key is +always at my disposal. Why not take the machine down tomorrow and test +it in the barn?" + +"Nothing could be better." + +"There is a train to Eastbourne at one." + +"I shall be at the station." + +"Bring the gear with you, and I will bring the flanges," said the +mechanician, rising. "Tomorrow will prove whether we have been +following a shadow, or whether fortune is at our feet. One o'clock at +Victoria." He walked swiftly down the stair and was quickly reabsorbed +into the flood of comfortless clammy humanity which ebbed and flowed +along the Strand. + +The morning was bright and spring-like. A pale blue sky arched over +London, with a few gauzy white clouds drifting lazily across it. +At eleven o'clock Brown might have been seen entering the Patent Office +with a great roll of parchment, diagrams, and plans under his arm. +At twelve he emerged again smiling, and, opening his pocket-book, he +packed away very carefully a small slip of official blue paper. At five +minutes to one his cab rolled into Victoria Station. Two giant +canvas-covered parcels, like enormous kites, were handed down by the +cabman from the top, and consigned to the care of a guard. On the +platform Pericord was pacing up and down, with long eager step and +swinging arms, a tinge of pink upon his sunken and sallow cheeks. + +"All right?" he asked. + +Brown pointed in answer to his baggage. + +"I have the motor and the girdle already packed away in the guard's van. +Be careful, guard, for it is delicate machinery of great value. +So! Now we can start with an easy conscience." + +At Eastbourne the precious motor was carried to a four-wheeler, and the +great flanges hoisted on the top. A long drive took them to the house +where the keys were kept, whence they set off across the barren Downs. +The building which was their destination was a commonplace white-washed +structure, with straggling stables and out-houses, standing in a grassy +hollow which sloped down from the edge of the chalk cliffs. It was a +cheerless house even when in use, but now with its smokeless chimneys +and shuttered windows it looked doubly dreary. The owner had planted a +grove of young larches and firs around it, but the sweeping spray had +blighted them, and they hung their withered heads in melancholy groups. +It was a gloomy and forbidding spot. + +But the inventors were in no mood to be moved by such trifles. +The lonelier the place, the more fitted for their purpose. With the +help of the cabman they carried their packages down the footpath, and +laid them in the darkened dining-room. The sun was setting as the +distant murmur of wheels told them that they were finally alone. + +Pericord had thrown open the shutters and the mellow evening light +streamed in through the discoloured windows. Brown drew a knife from +his pocket and cut the pack-thread with which the canvas was secured. +As the brown covering fell away it disclosed two great yellow metal +fans. These he leaned carefully against the wall. The girdle, the +connecting-bands, and the motor were then in turn unpacked. It was dark +before all was set out in order. A lamp was lit, and by its light the +two men continued to tighten screws, clinch rivets, and make the last +preparations for their experiment. + +"That finishes it," said Brown at last, stepping back and surveying the +machine. + +Pericord said nothing, but his face glowed with pride and expectation. + +"We must have something to eat," Brown remarked, laying out some +provisions which he had brought with him. + +"Afterwards." + +"No, now," said the stolid mechanician. "I am half starved." He pulled +up to the table and made a hearty meal, while his Celtic companion +strode impatiently up and down, with twitching fingers and restless +eyes. + +"Now then," said Brown, facing round, and brushing the crumbs from his +lap, "who is to put it on?" + +"I shall," cried his companion eagerly. "What we do to-night is likely +to be historic." + +"But there is some danger," suggested Brown. "We cannot quite tell how +it may act." + +"That is nothing," said Pericord, with a wave of his hand. + +"But there is no use our going out of our way to incur danger." + +"What then? One of us must do it." + +"Not at all. The motor would act equally well if attached to any +inanimate object." + +"That is true," said Pericord, thoughtfully. + +"There are bricks by the barn. I have a sack here. Why should not a +bagful of them take your place?" + +"It is a good idea. I see no objection." + +"Come on then," and the two sallied out, bearing with them the various +sections of their machine. The moon was shining cold and clear though +an occasional ragged cloud drifted across her face. All was still and +silent upon the Downs. They stood and listened before they entered the +barn, but not a sound came to their ears, save the dull murmur of the +sea and the distant barking of a dog. Pericord journeyed backwards and +forwards with all that they might need, while Brown filled a long narrow +sack with bricks. + +When all was ready, the door of the barn was closed, and the lamp +balanced upon an empty packing-case. The bag of bricks was laid upon +two trestles, and the broad steel girdle was buckled round it. Then the +great flanges, the wires, and the metal box containing the motor were in +turn attached to the girdle. Last of all a flat steel rudder, shaped +like a fish's tail, was secured to the bottom of the sack. + +"We must make it travel in a small circle," said Pericord, glancing +round at the bare high walls. + +"Tie the rudder down at one side," suggested Brown. "Now it is ready. +Press the connection and off she goes!" + +Pericord leaned forward, his long sallow face quivering with excitement. +His white nervous hands darted here and there among the wires. +Brown stood impassive with critical eyes. There was a sharp burr from +the machine. The huge yellow wings gave a convulsive flap. Then +another. Then a third, slower and stronger, with a fuller sweep. +Then a fourth which filled the barn with a blast of driven air. At the +fifth the bag of bricks began to dance upon the trestles. At the sixth +it sprang into the air, and would have fallen to the ground, but the +seventh came to save it, and fluttered it forward through the air. +Slowly rising, it flapped heavily round in a circle, like some great +clumsy bird, filling the barn with its buzzing and whirring. In the +uncertain yellow light of the single lamp it was strange to see the loom +of the ungainly thing, flapping off into the shadows, and then circling +back into the narrow zone of light. + +The two men stood for a while in silence. Then Pericord threw his long +arms up into the air. + +"It acts!" he cried. "The Brown-Pericord Motor acts!" He danced about +like a madman in his delight. Brown's eyes twinkled, and he began +to whistle. + +"See how smoothly it goes, Brown!" cried the inventor. "And the +rudder--how well it acts! We must register it tomorrow." + +His comrade's face darkened and set. "It _is_ registered," he said, +with a forced laugh. + +"Registered?" said Pericord. "Registered?" He repeated the word first +in a whisper, and then in a kind of scream. "Who has dared to register +my invention?" + +"I did it this morning. There is nothing to be excited about. It is +all right." + +"You registered the motor! Under whose name?" + +"Under my own," said Brown, sullenly. "I consider that I have the best +right to it." + +"And my name does not appear?" + +"No, but--" + +"You villain!" screamed Pericord. "You thief and villain! You would +steal my work! You would filch my credit! I will have that patent back +if I have to tear your throat out!" A sombre fire burned in his black +eyes, and his hands writhed themselves together with passion. Brown was +no coward, but he shrank back as the other advanced upon him. + +"Keep your hands off!" he said, drawing a knife from his pocket. +"I will defend myself if you attack me." + +"You threaten me?" cried Pericord, whose face was livid with anger. +"You are a bully as well as a cheat. Will you give up the patent?" + +"No, I will not." + +"Brown, I say, give it up!" + +"I will not. I did the work." + +Pericord sprang madly forward with blazing eyes and clutching fingers. +His companion writhed out of his grasp, but was dashed against the +packing-case, over which he fell. The lamp was extinguished, and the +whole barn plunged into darkness. A single ray of moonlight shining +through a narrow chink flickered over the great waving fans as they +came and went. + +"Will you give up the patent, Brown?" + +There was no answer. + +"Will you give it up?" + +Again no answer. Not a sound save the humming and creaking overhead. +A cold pang of fear and doubt struck through Pericord's heart. He felt +aimlessly about in the dark and his fingers closed upon a hand. It was +cold and unresponsive. With all his anger turned to icy horror he +struck a match, set the lamp up, and lit it. + +Brown lay huddled up on the other side of the packing-case. Pericord +seized him in his arms, and with convulsive strength lifted him across. +Then the mystery of his silence was explained. He had fallen with his +right arms doubled up under him, and his own weight had driven the knife +deeply into his body. He had died without a groan. The tragedy had +been sudden, horrible, and complete. + +Pericord sat silently on the edge of the case, staring blankly down, and +shivering like one with the ague, while the great Brown-Pericord Motor +boomed and hurtled above him. How long he sat there can never be known. +It might have been minutes or it might have been hours. A thousand mad +schemes flashed through his dazed brain. It was true that he had been +only the indirect cause. But who would believe that? He glanced down +at his blood-spattered clothing. Everything was against him. It would +be better to fly than to give himself up, relying upon his innocence. +No one in London knew where they were. If he could dispose of the body +he might have a few days clear before any suspicion would be aroused. + +Suddenly a loud crash recalled him to himself. The flying sack had +gradually risen with each successive circle until it had struck against +the rafters. The blow displaced the connecting-gear, and the machine +fell heavily to the ground. Pericord undid the girdle. The motor was +uninjured. A sudden strange thought flashed upon him as he looked at +it. The machine had become hateful to him. He might dispose both of it +and the body in a way that would baffle all human search. + +He threw open the barn door, and carried his companion out into the +moonlight. There was a hillock outside, and on the summit of this he +laid him reverently down. Then he brought from the barn the motor, the +girdle and the flanges. With trembling fingers he fastened the broad +steel belt round the dead man's waist. Then he screwed the wings into +the sockets. Beneath he slung the motor-box, fastened the wires, and +switched on the connection. For a minute or two the huge yellow fans +flapped and flickered. Then the body began to move in little jumps down +the side of the hillock, gathering a gradual momentum, until at last it +heaved up into the air and soared off in the moonlight. He had not used +the rudder, but had turned the head for the south. Gradually the weird +thing rose higher, and sped faster, until it had passed over the line of +cliff, and was sweeping over the silent sea. Pericord watched it with a +white drawn face, until it looked like a black bird with golden wings +half shrouded in the mist which lay over the waters. + +In the New York State Lunatic Asylum there is a wild-eyed man whose name +and birth-place are alike unknown. His reason has been unseated by some +sudden shock, the doctors say, though of what nature they are unable to +determine. "It is the most delicate machine which is most readily put +out of gear," they remark, and point, in proof of their axiom, to the +complicated electric engines, and remarkable aeronautic machines which +the patient is fond of devising in his more lucid moments. + + + +THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP + + +The following narrative was found among the papers of Dr. James +Hardcastle, who died of phthisis on February 4th, 1908, at 36, +Upper Coventry Flats, South Kensington. Those who knew him best, +while refusing to express an opinion upon this particular +statement, are unanimous in asserting that he was a man of a sober +and scientific turn of mind, absolutely devoid of imagination, and +most unlikely to invent any abnormal series of events. The paper +was contained in an envelope, which was docketed, "A Short Account +of the Circumstances which occurred near Miss Allerton's Farm in +North-West Derbyshire in the Spring of Last Year." The envelope +was sealed, and on the other side was written in pencil-- + +DEAR SEATON,-- + +"It may interest, and perhaps pain you, to know that the +incredulity with which you met my story has prevented me from ever +opening my mouth upon the subject again. I leave this record after +my death, and perhaps strangers may be found to have more +confidence in me than my friend." + + +Inquiry has failed to elicit who this Seaton may have been. I +may add that the visit of the deceased to Allerton's Farm, and the +general nature of the alarm there, apart from his particular +explanation, have been absolutely established. With this foreword +I append his account exactly as he left it. It is in the form of +a diary, some entries in which have been expanded, while a few have +been erased. + + +April 17.--Already I feel the benefit of this wonderful +upland air. The farm of the Allertons lies fourteen hundred and +twenty feet above sea-level, so it may well be a bracing climate. +Beyond the usual morning cough I have very little discomfort, and, +what with the fresh milk and the home-grown mutton, I have +every chance of putting on weight. I think Saunderson will be +pleased. + +The two Miss Allertons are charmingly quaint and kind, two dear +little hard-working old maids, who are ready to lavish all the +heart which might have gone out to husband and to children upon an +invalid stranger. Truly, the old maid is a most useful person, one +of the reserve forces of the community. They talk of the +superfluous woman, but what would the poor superfluous man do +without her kindly presence? By the way, in their simplicity they +very quickly let out the reason why Saunderson recommended their +farm. The Professor rose from the ranks himself, and I believe +that in his youth he was not above scaring crows in these very +fields. + +It is a most lonely spot, and the walks are picturesque in the +extreme. The farm consists of grazing land lying at the bottom of +an irregular valley. On each side are the fantastic limestone +hills, formed of rock so soft that you can break it away with your +hands. All this country is hollow. Could you strike it with some +gigantic hammer it would boom like a drum, or possibly cave in +altogether and expose some huge subterranean sea. A great sea +there must surely be, for on all sides the streams run into the +mountain itself, never to reappear. There are gaps everywhere amid +the rocks, and when you pass through them you find yourself in +great caverns, which wind down into the bowels of the earth. I +have a small bicycle lamp, and it is a perpetual joy to me to carry +it into these weird solitudes, and to see the wonderful silver and +black effect when I throw its light upon the stalactites which +drape the lofty roofs. Shut off the lamp, and you are in the +blackest darkness. Turn it on, and it is a scene from the Arabian +Nights. + +But there is one of these strange openings in the earth which +has a special interest, for it is the handiwork, not of nature, but +of man. I had never heard of Blue John when I came to these parts. +It is the name given to a peculiar mineral of a beautiful purple +shade, which is only found at one or two places in the world. It +is so rare that an ordinary vase of Blue John would be valued at a +great price. The Romans, with that extraordinary instinct of +theirs, discovered that it was to be found in this valley, and sank +a horizontal shaft deep into the mountain side. The opening of +their mine has been called Blue John Gap, a clean-cut arch in +the rock, the mouth all overgrown with bushes. It is a goodly +passage which the Roman miners have cut, and it intersects some of +the great water-worn caves, so that if you enter Blue John Gap you +would do well to mark your steps and to have a good store of +candles, or you may never make your way back to the daylight again. +I have not yet gone deeply into it, but this very day I stood at +the mouth of the arched tunnel, and peering down into the black +recesses beyond, I vowed that when my health returned I would +devote some holiday to exploring those mysterious depths and +finding out for myself how far the Roman had penetrated into the +Derbyshire hills. + +Strange how superstitious these countrymen are! I should have +thought better of young Armitage, for he is a man of some education +and character, and a very fine fellow for his station in life. I +was standing at the Blue John Gap when he came across the field to +me. + +"Well, doctor," said he, "you're not afraid, anyhow." + +"Afraid!" I answered. "Afraid of what?" + +"Of it," said he, with a jerk of his thumb towards the black +vault, "of the Terror that lives in the Blue John Cave." + +How absurdly easy it is for a legend to arise in a lonely +countryside! I examined him as to the reasons for his weird +belief. It seems that from time to time sheep have been missing +from the fields, carried bodily away, according to Armitage. That +they could have wandered away of their own accord and disappeared +among the mountains was an explanation to which he would not +listen. On one occasion a pool of blood had been found, and some +tufts of wool. That also, I pointed out, could be explained in a +perfectly natural way. Further, the nights upon which sheep +disappeared were invariably very dark, cloudy nights with no moon. +This I met with the obvious retort that those were the nights which +a commonplace sheep-stealer would naturally choose for his work. +On one occasion a gap had been made in a wall, and some of +the stones scattered for a considerable distance. Human agency +again, in my opinion. Finally, Armitage clinched all his arguments +by telling me that he had actually heard the Creature--indeed, that +anyone could hear it who remained long enough at the Gap. It was +a distant roaring of an immense volume. I could not but smile +at this, knowing, as I do, the strange reverberations which come +out of an underground water system running amid the chasms of a +limestone formation. My incredulity annoyed Armitage, so that he +turned and left me with some abruptness. + +And now comes the queer point about the whole business. I was +still standing near the mouth of the cave turning over in my mind +the various statements of Armitage, and reflecting how readily they +could be explained away, when suddenly, from the depth of the +tunnel beside me, there issued a most extraordinary sound. How +shall I describe it? First of all it seemed to be a great +distance away, far down in the bowels of the earth. Secondly, in +spite of this suggestion of distance, it was very loud. Lastly, it +was not a boom, nor a crash, such as one would associate with +falling water or tumbling rock, but it was a high whine, tremulous +and vibrating, almost like the whinnying of a horse. It was +certainly a most remarkable experience, and one which for a moment, +I must admit, gave a new significance to Armitage's words. I +waited by the Blue John Gap for half an hour or more, but there was +no return of the sound, so at last I wandered back to the +farmhouse, rather mystified by what had occurred. Decidedly I +shall explore that cavern when my strength is restored. Of course, +Armitage's explanation is too absurd for discussion, and yet that +sound was certainly very strange. It still rings in my ears as I +write. + +April 20.--In the last three days I have made several +expeditions to the Blue John Gap, and have even penetrated some +short distance, but my bicycle lantern is so small and weak that I +dare not trust myself very far. I shall do the thing more +systematically. I have heard no sound at all, and could almost +believe that I had been the victim of some hallucination, suggested, +perhaps, by Armitage's conversation. Of course, the whole idea is +absurd, and yet I must confess that those bushes at the entrance of +the cave do present an appearance as if some heavy creature had +forced its way through them. I begin to be keenly interested. I +have said nothing to the Miss Allertons, for they are quite +superstitious enough already, but I have bought some candles, and +mean to investigate for myself. + +I observed this morning that among the numerous tufts of +sheep's wool which lay among the bushes near the cavern there +was one which was smeared with blood. Of course, my reason tells +me that if sheep wander into such rocky places they are likely to +injure themselves, and yet somehow that splash of crimson gave me +a sudden shock, and for a moment I found myself shrinking back in +horror from the old Roman arch. A fetid breath seemed to ooze from +the black depths into which I peered. Could it indeed be possible +that some nameless thing, some dreadful presence, was lurking down +yonder? I should have been incapable of such feelings in the days +of my strength, but one grows more nervous and fanciful when one's +health is shaken. + +For the moment I weakened in my resolution, and was ready to +leave the secret of the old mine, if one exists, for ever unsolved. +But tonight my interest has returned and my nerves grown more +steady. Tomorrow I trust that I shall have gone more deeply into +this matter. + +April 22.--Let me try and set down as accurately as I can +my extraordinary experience of yesterday. I started in the +afternoon, and made my way to the Blue John Gap. I confess that my +misgivings returned as I gazed into its depths, and I wished that +I had brought a companion to share my exploration. Finally, with +a return of resolution, I lit my candle, pushed my way through the +briars, and descended into the rocky shaft. + +It went down at an acute angle for some fifty feet, the floor +being covered with broken stone. Thence there extended a long, +straight passage cut in the solid rock. I am no geologist, but the +lining of this corridor was certainly of some harder material than +limestone, for there were points where I could actually see the +tool-marks which the old miners had left in their excavation, as +fresh as if they had been done yesterday. Down this strange, +old-world corridor I stumbled, my feeble flame throwing a dim circle of +light around me, which made the shadows beyond the more threatening +and obscure. Finally, I came to a spot where the Roman tunnel +opened into a water-worn cavern--a huge hall, hung with long white +icicles of lime deposit. From this central chamber I could dimly +perceive that a number of passages worn by the subterranean streams +wound away into the depths of the earth. I was standing there +wondering whether I had better return, or whether I dare venture +farther into this dangerous labyrinth, when my eyes fell upon +something at my feet which strongly arrested my attention. + +The greater part of the floor of the cavern was covered with +boulders of rock or with hard incrustations of lime, but at this +particular point there had been a drip from the distant roof, which +had left a patch of soft mud. In the very centre of this there was +a huge mark--an ill-defined blotch, deep, broad and irregular, as +if a great boulder had fallen upon it. No loose stone lay near, +however, nor was there anything to account for the impression. It +was far too large to be caused by any possible animal, and besides, +there was only the one, and the patch of mud was of such a size +that no reasonable stride could have covered it. As I rose from +the examination of that singular mark and then looked round into +the black shadows which hemmed me in, I must confess that I felt +for a moment a most unpleasant sinking of my heart, and that, do +what I could, the candle trembled in my outstretched hand. + +I soon recovered my nerve, however, when I reflected how absurd +it was to associate so huge and shapeless a mark with the track of +any known animal. Even an elephant could not have produced it. I +determined, therefore, that I would not be scared by vague and +senseless fears from carrying out my exploration. Before +proceeding, I took good note of a curious rock formation in the +wall by which I could recognize the entrance of the Roman tunnel. +The precaution was very necessary, for the great cave, so far as I +could see it, was intersected by passages. Having made sure of my +position, and reassured myself by examining my spare candles and my +matches, I advanced slowly over the rocky and uneven surface of the +cavern. + +And now I come to the point where I met with such sudden and +desperate disaster. A stream, some twenty feet broad, ran across +my path, and I walked for some little distance along the bank to +find a spot where I could cross dry-shod. Finally, I came to a +place where a single flat boulder lay near the centre, which I +could reach in a stride. As it chanced, however, the rock had been +cut away and made top-heavy by the rush of the stream, so that +it tilted over as I landed on it and shot me into the ice-cold +water. My candle went out, and I found myself floundering about in +utter and absolute darkness. + +I staggered to my feet again, more amused than alarmed by my +adventure. The candle had fallen from my hand, and was lost in the +stream, but I had two others in my pocket, so that it was of no +importance. I got one of them ready, and drew out my box of +matches to light it. Only then did I realize my position. The box +had been soaked in my fall into the river. It was impossible to +strike the matches. + +A cold hand seemed to close round my heart as I realized my +position. The darkness was opaque and horrible. It was so utter +that one put one's hand up to one's face as if to press off something +solid. I stood still, and by an effort I steadied myself. I tried +to reconstruct in my mind a map of the floor of the cavern as I had +last seen it. Alas! the bearings which had impressed themselves +upon my mind were high on the wall, and not to be found by touch. +Still, I remembered in a general way how the sides were situated, +and I hoped that by groping my way along them I should at last come +to the opening of the Roman tunnel. Moving very slowly, and +continually striking against the rocks, I set out on this desperate +quest. + +But I very soon realized how impossible it was. In that black, +velvety darkness one lost all one's bearings in an instant. Before +I had made a dozen paces, I was utterly bewildered as to my +whereabouts. The rippling of the stream, which was the one sound +audible, showed me where it lay, but the moment that I left its +bank I was utterly lost. The idea of finding my way back in +absolute darkness through that limestone labyrinth was clearly an +impossible one. + +I sat down upon a boulder and reflected upon my unfortunate +plight. I had not told anyone that I proposed to come to the Blue +John mine, and it was unlikely that a search party would come after +me. Therefore I must trust to my own resources to get clear of the +danger. There was only one hope, and that was that the matches +might dry. When I fell into the river, only half of me had got +thoroughly wet. My left shoulder had remained above the water. I +took the box of matches, therefore, and put it into my left armpit. +The moist air of the cavern might possibly be counteracted by +the heat of my body, but even so, I knew that I could not hope to +get a light for many hours. Meanwhile there was nothing for it but +to wait. + +By good luck I had slipped several biscuits into my pocket +before I left the farm-house. These I now devoured, and washed +them down with a draught from that wretched stream which had been +the cause of all my misfortunes. Then I felt about for a +comfortable seat among the rocks, and, having discovered a place +where I could get a support for my back, I stretched out my legs +and settled myself down to wait. I was wretchedly damp and cold, +but I tried to cheer myself with the reflection that modern science +prescribed open windows and walks in all weather for my disease. +Gradually, lulled by the monotonous gurgle of the stream, and by +the absolute darkness, I sank into an uneasy slumber. + +How long this lasted I cannot say. It may have been for an +hour, it may have been for several. Suddenly I sat up on my rock +couch, with every nerve thrilling and every sense acutely on the +alert. Beyond all doubt I had heard a sound--some sound very +distinct from the gurgling of the waters. It had passed, but the +reverberation of it still lingered in my ear. Was it a search +party? They would most certainly have shouted, and vague as this +sound was which had wakened me, it was very distinct from the human +voice. I sat palpitating and hardly daring to breathe. There it +was again! And again! Now it had become continuous. It was a +tread--yes, surely it was the tread of some living creature. +But what a tread it was! It gave one the impression of enormous +weight carried upon sponge-like feet, which gave forth a muffled +but ear-filling sound. The darkness was as complete as ever, but +the tread was regular and decisive. And it was coming beyond all +question in my direction. + +My skin grew cold, and my hair stood on end as I listened to +that steady and ponderous footfall. There was some creature there, +and surely by the speed of its advance, it was one which could see +in the dark. I crouched low on my rock and tried to blend myself +into it. The steps grew nearer still, then stopped, and presently +I was aware of a loud lapping and gurgling. The creature was +drinking at the stream. Then again there was silence, broken by a +succession of long sniffs and snorts of tremendous volume and +energy. Had it caught the scent of me? My own nostrils were +filled by a low fetid odour, mephitic and abominable. Then I heard +the steps again. They were on my side of the stream now. The +stones rattled within a few yards of where I lay. Hardly daring to +breathe, I crouched upon my rock. Then the steps drew away. I +heard the splash as it returned across the river, and the sound +died away into the distance in the direction from which it had +come. + +For a long time I lay upon the rock, too much horrified to +move. I thought of the sound which I had heard coming from the +depths of the cave, of Armitage's fears, of the strange impression +in the mud, and now came this final and absolute proof that there +was indeed some inconceivable monster, something utterly unearthly +and dreadful, which lurked in the hollow of the mountain. Of its +nature or form I could frame no conception, save that it was both +light-footed and gigantic. The combat between my reason, which +told me that such things could not be, and my senses, which told me +that they were, raged within me as I lay. Finally, I was almost +ready to persuade myself that this experience had been part of some +evil dream, and that my abnormal condition might have conjured up +an hallucination. But there remained one final experience which +removed the last possibility of doubt from my mind. + +I had taken my matches from my armpit and felt them. They +seemed perfectly hard and dry. Stooping down into a crevice of the +rocks, I tried one of them. To my delight it took fire at once. +I lit the candle, and, with a terrified backward glance into the +obscure depths of the cavern, I hurried in the direction of the +Roman passage. As I did so I passed the patch of mud on which I +had seen the huge imprint. Now I stood astonished before it, for +there were three similar imprints upon its surface, enormous in +size, irregular in outline, of a depth which indicated the +ponderous weight which had left them. Then a great terror surged +over me. Stooping and shading my candle with my hand, I ran in a +frenzy of fear to the rocky archway, hastened up it, and never +stopped until, with weary feet and panting lungs, I rushed up the +final slope of stones, broke through the tangle of briars, and +flung myself exhausted upon the soft grass under the peaceful light +of the stars. It was three in the morning when I reached the +farm-house, and today I am all unstrung and quivering after my +terrific adventure. As yet I have told no one. I must move warily +in the matter. What would the poor lonely women, or the uneducated +yokels here think of it if I were to tell them my experience? Let +me go to someone who can understand and advise. + +April 25.--I was laid up in bed for two days after my +incredible adventure in the cavern. I use the adjective with a +very definite meaning, for I have had an experience since which has +shocked me almost as much as the other. I have said that I was +looking round for someone who could advise me. There is a Dr. Mark +Johnson who practices some few miles away, to whom I had a note of +recommendation from Professor Saunderson. To him I drove, +when I was strong enough to get about, and I recounted to him my +whole strange experience. He listened intently, and then carefully +examined me, paying special attention to my reflexes and to the +pupils of my eyes. When he had finished, he refused to discuss my +adventure, saying that it was entirely beyond him, but he gave me +the card of a Mr. Picton at Castleton, with the advice that I +should instantly go to him and tell him the story exactly as I had +done to himself. He was, according to my adviser, the very man who +was pre-eminently suited to help me. I went on to the station, +therefore, and made my way to the little town, which is some ten +miles away. Mr. Picton appeared to be a man of importance, as his +brass plate was displayed upon the door of a considerable building +on the outskirts of the town. I was about to ring his bell, when +some misgiving came into my mind, and, crossing to a neighbouring +shop, I asked the man behind the counter if he could tell me +anything of Mr. Picton. "Why," said he, "he is the best mad doctor +in Derbyshire, and yonder is his asylum." You can imagine that it +was not long before I had shaken the dust of Castleton from my feet +and returned to the farm, cursing all unimaginative pedants who +cannot conceive that there may be things in creation which have +never yet chanced to come across their mole's vision. After all, +now that I am cooler, I can afford to admit that I have been no +more sympathetic to Armitage than Dr. Johnson has been to me. + +April 27. When I was a student I had the reputation of +being a man of courage and enterprise. I remember that when there +was a ghost-hunt at Coltbridge it was I who sat up in the +haunted house. Is it advancing years (after all, I am only +thirty-five), or is it this physical malady which has caused +degeneration? Certainly my heart quails when I think of that horrible +cavern in the hill, and the certainty that it has some monstrous +occupant. What shall I do? There is not an hour in the day that I do +not debate the question. If I say nothing, then the mystery remains +unsolved. If I do say anything, then I have the alternative of mad +alarm over the whole countryside, or of absolute incredulity which +may end in consigning me to an asylum. On the whole, I think that +my best course is to wait, and to prepare for some expedition which +shall be more deliberate and better thought out than the last. As +a first step I have been to Castleton and obtained a few +essentials--a large acetylene lantern for one thing, and a good +double-barrelled sporting rifle for another. The latter I have +hired, but I have bought a dozen heavy game cartridges, which would +bring down a rhinoceros. Now I am ready for my troglodyte friend. +Give me better health and a little spate of energy, and I shall try +conclusions with him yet. But who and what is he? Ah! there is +the question which stands between me and my sleep. How many +theories do I form, only to discard each in turn! It is all so +utterly unthinkable. And yet the cry, the footmark, the tread in +the cavern--no reasoning can get past these. I think of the +old-world legends of dragons and of other monsters. Were they, +perhaps, not such fairy-tales as we have thought? Can it be that +there is some fact which underlies them, and am I, of all mortals, +the one who is chosen to expose it? + +May 3.--For several days I have been laid up by the +vagaries of an English spring, and during those days there have +been developments, the true and sinister meaning of which no one +can appreciate save myself. I may say that we have had cloudy and +moonless nights of late, which according to my information were the +seasons upon which sheep disappeared. Well, sheep _have_ +disappeared. Two of Miss Allerton's, one of old Pearson's of the +Cat Walk, and one of Mrs. Moulton's. Four in all during three +nights. No trace is left of them at all, and the countryside is +buzzing with rumours of gipsies and of sheep-stealers. + +But there is something more serious than that. Young Armitage +has disappeared also. He left his moorland cottage early on +Wednesday night and has never been heard of since. He was an +unattached man, so there is less sensation than would otherwise be +the case. The popular explanation is that he owes money, and has +found a situation in some other part of the country, whence he will +presently write for his belongings. But I have grave misgivings. +Is it not much more likely that the recent tragedy of the sheep has +caused him to take some steps which may have ended in his own +destruction? He may, for example, have lain in wait for the +creature and been carried off by it into the recesses of the +mountains. What an inconceivable fate for a civilized Englishman +of the twentieth century! And yet I feel that it is possible and +even probable. But in that case, how far am I answerable both for +his death and for any other mishap which may occur? Surely with +the knowledge I already possess it must be my duty to see that +something is done, or if necessary to do it myself. It must be the +latter, for this morning I went down to the local police-station +and told my story. The inspector entered it all in a large book +and bowed me out with commendable gravity, but I heard a burst of +laughter before I had got down his garden path. No doubt he was +recounting my adventure to his family. + +June 10.--I am writing this, propped up in bed, six weeks +after my last entry in this journal. I have gone through a +terrible shock both to mind and body, arising from such an +experience as has seldom befallen a human being before. But I have +attained my end. The danger from the Terror which dwells in the +Blue John Gap has passed never to return. Thus much at least I, a +broken invalid, have done for the common good. Let me now recount +what occurred as clearly as I may. + +The night of Friday, May 3rd, was dark and cloudy--the very +night for the monster to walk. About eleven o'clock I went from +the farm-house with my lantern and my rifle, having first left a +note upon the table of my bedroom in which I said that, if I were +missing, search should be made for me in the direction of the Gap. +I made my way to the mouth of the Roman shaft, and, having perched +myself among the rocks close to the opening, I shut off my lantern +and waited patiently with my loaded rifle ready to my hand. + +It was a melancholy vigil. All down the winding valley I could +see the scattered lights of the farm-houses, and the church clock +of Chapel-le-Dale tolling the hours came faintly to my ears. +These tokens of my fellow-men served only to make my own position +seem the more lonely, and to call for a greater effort to overcome +the terror which tempted me continually to get back to the farm, +and abandon for ever this dangerous quest. And yet there lies deep +in every man a rooted self-respect which makes it hard for him to +turn back from that which he has once undertaken. This feeling of +personal pride was my salvation now, and it was that alone which +held me fast when every instinct of my nature was dragging me away. +I am glad now that I had the strength. In spite of all that is has +cost me, my manhood is at least above reproach. + +Twelve o'clock struck in the distant church, then one, then +two. It was the darkest hour of the night. The clouds were +drifting low, and there was not a star in the sky. An owl was +hooting somewhere among the rocks, but no other sound, save the +gentle sough of the wind, came to my ears. And then suddenly I +heard it! From far away down the tunnel came those muffled steps, +so soft and yet so ponderous. I heard also the rattle of stones as +they gave way under that giant tread. They drew nearer. They were +close upon me. I heard the crashing of the bushes round the +entrance, and then dimly through the darkness I was conscious of +the loom of some enormous shape, some monstrous inchoate creature, +passing swiftly and very silently out from the tunnel. I was +paralysed with fear and amazement. Long as I had waited, now that +it had actually come I was unprepared for the shock. I lay +motionless and breathless, whilst the great dark mass whisked by me +and was swallowed up in the night. + +But now I nerved myself for its return. No sound came from the +sleeping countryside to tell of the horror which was loose. In no +way could I judge how far off it was, what it was doing, or when it +might be back. But not a second time should my nerve fail me, not +a second time should it pass unchallenged. I swore it between my +clenched teeth as I laid my cocked rifle across the rock. + +And yet it nearly happened. There was no warning of approach +now as the creature passed over the grass. Suddenly, like a dark, +drifting shadow, the huge bulk loomed up once more before me, +making for the entrance of the cave. Again came that paralysis of +volition which held my crooked forefinger impotent upon the +trigger. But with a desperate effort I shook it off. Even as the +brushwood rustled, and the monstrous beast blended with the shadow +of the Gap, I fired at the retreating form. In the blaze of the +gun I caught a glimpse of a great shaggy mass, something with rough +and bristling hair of a withered grey colour, fading away to white +in its lower parts, the huge body supported upon short, thick, +curving legs. I had just that glance, and then I heard the rattle +of the stones as the creature tore down into its burrow. In an +instant, with a triumphant revulsion of feeling, I had cast my +fears to the wind, and uncovering my powerful lantern, with my +rifle in my hand, I sprang down from my rock and rushed after the +monster down the old Roman shaft. + +My splendid lamp cast a brilliant flood of vivid light in front +of me, very different from the yellow glimmer which had aided me +down the same passage only twelve days before. As I ran, I saw the +great beast lurching along before me, its huge bulk filling up the +whole space from wall to wall. Its hair looked like coarse faded +oakum, and hung down in long, dense masses which swayed as it +moved. It was like an enormous unclipped sheep in its fleece, but +in size it was far larger than the largest elephant, and its +breadth seemed to be nearly as great as its height. It fills me +with amazement now to think that I should have dared to follow such +a horror into the bowels of the earth, but when one's blood is up, +and when one's quarry seems to be flying, the old primeval +hunting-spirit awakes and prudence is cast to the wind. Rifle in hand, +I ran at the top of my speed upon the trail of the monster. + +I had seen that the creature was swift. Now I was to find out +to my cost that it was also very cunning. I had imagined that it +was in panic flight, and that I had only to pursue it. The idea +that it might turn upon me never entered my excited brain. I have +already explained that the passage down which I was racing opened +into a great central cave. Into this I rushed, fearful lest I +should lose all trace of the beast. But he had turned upon his own +traces, and in a moment we were face to face. + +That picture, seen in the brilliant white light of the lantern, +is etched for ever upon my brain. He had reared up on his hind +legs as a bear would do, and stood above me, enormous, menacing-- +such a creature as no nightmare had ever brought to my imagination. +I have said that he reared like a bear, and there was something +bear-like--if one could conceive a bear which was ten-fold the bulk +of any bear seen upon earth--in his whole pose and attitude, in his +great crooked forelegs with their ivory-white claws, in his rugged +skin, and in his red, gaping mouth, fringed with monstrous fangs. +Only in one point did he differ from the bear, or from any other +creature which walks the earth, and even at that supreme moment a +shudder of horror passed over me as I observed that the eyes which +glistened in the glow of my lantern were huge, projecting bulbs, +white and sightless. For a moment his great paws swung over my +head. The next he fell forward upon me, I and my broken lantern +crashed to the earth, and I remember no more. + + +When I came to myself I was back in the farm-house of the +Allertons. Two days had passed since my terrible adventure in the +Blue John Gap. It seems that I had lain all night in the cave +insensible from concussion of the brain, with my left arm and two +ribs badly fractured. In the morning my note had been found, a +search party of a dozen farmers assembled, and I had been tracked +down and carried back to my bedroom, where I had lain in high +delirium ever since. There was, it seems, no sign of the creature, +and no bloodstain which would show that my bullet had found him as +he passed. Save for my own plight and the marks upon the mud, +there was nothing to prove that what I said was true. + +Six weeks have now elapsed, and I am able to sit out once more +in the sunshine. Just opposite me is the steep hillside, grey with +shaly rock, and yonder on its flank is the dark cleft which marks +the opening of the Blue John Gap. But it is no longer a source of +terror. Never again through that ill-omened tunnel shall any +strange shape flit out into the world of men. The educated and the +scientific, the Dr. Johnsons and the like, may smile at my +narrative, but the poorer folk of the countryside had never a doubt +as to its truth. On the day after my recovering consciousness +they assembled in their hundreds round the Blue John Gap. As the +_Castleton Courier_ said: + + +"It was useless for our correspondent, or for any of the +adventurous gentlemen who had come from Matlock, Buxton, and other +parts, to offer to descend, to explore the cave to the end, and to +finally test the extraordinary narrative of Dr. James Hardcastle. +The country people had taken the matter into their own hands, and +from an early hour of the morning they had worked hard in stopping +up the entrance of the tunnel. There is a sharp slope where the +shaft begins, and great boulders, rolled along by many willing +hands, were thrust down it until the Gap was absolutely sealed. So +ends the episode which has caused such excitement throughout the +country. Local opinion is fiercely divided upon the subject. On +the one hand are those who point to Dr. Hardcastle's impaired +health, and to the possibility of cerebral lesions of tubercular +origin giving rise to strange hallucinations. Some _idee fixe_, +according to these gentlemen, caused the doctor to wander down the +tunnel, and a fall among the rocks was sufficient to account for +his injuries. On the other hand, a legend of a strange creature in +the Gap has existed for some months back, and the farmers look upon +Dr. Hardcastle's narrative and his personal injuries as a final +corroboration. So the matter stands, and so the matter will +continue to stand, for no definite solution seems to us to be now +possible. It transcends human wit to give any scientific +explanation which could cover the alleged facts." + + +Perhaps before the _Courier_ published these words they would +have been wise to send their representative to me. I have thought +the matter out, as no one else has occasion to do, and it is +possible that I might have removed some of the more obvious +difficulties of the narrative and brought it one degree nearer to +scientific acceptance. Let me then write down the only explanation +which seems to me to elucidate what I know to my cost to have been +a series of facts. My theory may seem to be wildly improbable, but +at least no one can venture to say that it is impossible. + +My view is--and it was formed, as is shown by my diary, before +my personal adventure--that in this part of England there is a +vast subterranean lake or sea, which is fed by the great number of +streams which pass down through the limestone. Where there is a +large collection of water there must also be some evaporation, +mists or rain, and a possibility of vegetation. This in turn +suggests that there may be animal life, arising, as the vegetable +life would also do, from those seeds and types which had been +introduced at an early period of the world's history, when +communication with the outer air was more easy. This place had +then developed a fauna and flora of its own, including such +monsters as the one which I had seen, which may well have been the +old cave-bear, enormously enlarged and modified by its new +environment. For countless aeons the internal and the external +creation had kept apart, growing steadily away from each other. +Then there had come some rift in the depths of the mountain which +had enabled one creature to wander up and, by means of the Roman +tunnel, to reach the open air. Like all subterranean life, it had +lost the power of sight, but this had no doubt been compensated for +by nature in other directions. Certainly it had some means of +finding its way about, and of hunting down the sheep upon the +hillside. As to its choice of dark nights, it is part of my theory +that light was painful to those great white eyeballs, and that it +was only a pitch-black world which it could tolerate. Perhaps, +indeed, it was the glare of my lantern which saved my life at that +awful moment when we were face to face. So I read the riddle. I +leave these facts behind me, and if you can explain them, do so; or +if you choose to doubt them, do so. Neither your belief nor your +incredulity can alter them, nor affect one whose task is nearly over. + + +So ended the strange narrative of Dr. James Hardcastle. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Galley Impressions and Tales +by Arthur Conan Doyle + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST GALLEY *** + +This file should be named 8gall10.txt or 8gall10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8gall11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8gall10a.txt + +Produced by Lionel G. Sear of Truro, Cornwall, England. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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