i-Jirs . ^ W . Kemp 
 
THE MASTER 
 
Other Books by 
 IRVING BACHELLER 
 
 THK M AMI.K 01 SII.K.NCE 
 
 I .IU.N IlnLDEN 
 
 EBEN HOLDEN H LAST DAY A- 
 
 D RI AND I 
 
 DARREL OF THE BLESSED ISLES 
 
 VIRGIUUS 
 
 SILAS STRONG 
 
 THE HAND-MADE GENTLEMAN 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 BEING IN PART 
 
 COPIED FROM THE MINUTES OF THE SCHOOL FOR NOVELISTS 
 
 A ROUND TABLE OF GOOD FELLOWS WHO, LONG 
 
 SINCE, DINED EVERY SATURDAY AT THE SIGN 
 
 Q THE LANTHORNE, ON GOLDEN 
 
 HILL, IN NEW YORK CITY 
 
 By 
 IRVING BACHELLEB 
 
 New York 
 
 Doubleday, Page & Company 
 1909 
 
6/8 
 
 ALL KlOim KtftEIVED, INCUTDtNO THAT OF TRANSLATION 
 INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN 
 
 COPYUGBT, IQOQ, BY DOCBLZDAY, PAGE * COMPANY 
 PUBLISHED, OCTOBER, IQOQ 
 
 ^Sj^-f O 
 
 
 
 rT*to 
 

 TO MY FIRST EMPLOYER AND GOOD FRIEND 
 
 Louis KLOPSCH 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 I WAS talking one day with my friend, Mr. Willis 
 Brooks Hawkins, of the many careless nights we had 
 known together at the old Lanthorne Club, which held 
 its sessions in a very odd and ancient house on Monkey 
 Hill, and later in the old tavern farther south, where 
 once the redoubtable Captain Kidd loved to light his 
 pipe and drink his grog and coffee. We spoke of the 
 boys and men who had sat with us at meat before its 
 ample fireside of Crane, Field, Masson, Nye, Tark- 
 ington, Garland, Gaines, Gilder, Howells, Stedman and 
 Stoddard, some of whom were then beginning their 
 work. As our talk went on I told of my plan for this 
 tale, and particularly of a quarrelsome old sea "Cap n" 
 who had pushed into my study at odd times and bul 
 lied me, busy as I had been with better people, into 
 hearing him. I told how his rough fist had whacked 
 my best mahogany in the midst of unwelcome tales 
 and opinions ; how once he had broken into my task 
 with a ribald song and boldly winked at me when I 
 turned to protest, and begun to fight the wind, as one 
 may say, in a long talk about "lady cooks"; how at 
 
viii THE MASTER 
 
 last I had thrust him into my plot and slain the wretch 
 to get rid of him. I did not fail to speak of my sus 
 picions that he might have been a deep one, the 
 ghost of Kidd or some one of his other relatives 
 sent by the gods themselves to destroy me for the 
 public good. 
 
 We weighed these possibilities and wrangled over 
 my plan quite in the fashion that prevailed at the old 
 Sign of the Lanthorne. The Brotherhood of the 
 Toilers Chain was born of our talk, and I am 
 indebted to my good friend for information as to 
 Condon and his methods. 
 
 The few who may have read my first and least- 
 known tale, "The Master of Silence," will recogni/e 
 heroin one of its incidents and a trait of its leading 
 character. 
 
 I have dared to hope that the reader would find 
 amusement and something better in these singular 
 adventures and observations of "The Pippin." 
 
 IRVING BACHELIJ K. 
 Robinwood, Julrj SO, 1909. 
 
THE MASTER 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 I HAVE written half a hundred tales, but 
 none so strange as this one that I have 
 been living for the past twenty years. So many 
 have sat with me through half a night by the 
 fireside and heard me tell of Rog Rone and 
 Ben Lovel and the Susq and the big round 
 table at the Sign of the Lanthorne and begged 
 for more when I rose and bade them good 
 night that now here I am, at last, with pen in 
 hand beginning my story. Hereafter I shall 
 see less of the midnight hour and save my 
 lungs and send them to the book at bedtime 
 if they want more of me. I have some hope, 
 too, that the truth as I shall set it down may 
 restore a lost and loved companion of my 
 youth if that be possible. 
 
 I was born in Bedford Square, London, in 
 1859. We lived handsomely, my father being 
 in the Government service and fairly well-to-do, 
 and I spent my boyhood in a boarding school. 
 
 s 
 
:. *::;;::: : /.THE MASTER 
 
 My father died when I was fifteen, leaving his 
 fortune in the possession of my stepmother 
 and a guardian. I had been a pet and was 
 now a problem and on my way to worse dis 
 tinction, as I thought. Because I had been 
 guilty of a little prank or two at school they 
 pushed me into the world to earn my living 
 with an allowance of forty pounds a year. 
 
 So it happened that soon after my bereave 
 ment I went to Liverpool to learn the plumber s 
 trade. Now of all trades that was least to 
 my liking, and yet if I had not been a plumber 
 my story could never have made itself and 
 I --well, I should have gone down into the 
 dungeons of the deep sea long ago, most 
 likely. 
 
 So there I was in Liverpool for a matter of 
 five years making the best of it, and a fairly 
 good plumber, for one of delicate breeding, 
 and the foundations of my history as well. 
 
 I had rather humble lodgings in the out 
 skirts of the city. Being slow to make friends 
 I grew to love the solitude of my attic cham 
 ber where people out of history and the 
 story-books kept my heart up and in good 
 company. 
 
 One night I lay in bed, hearing the rain as 
 it beat over the roofs and against the window- 
 
THE MASTER 5 
 
 panes when, suddenly, there came a rap at 
 my door. 
 
 "Who s there?" I demanded, starting out 
 of bed. 
 
 As I got no answer I repeated my call and 
 stood a moment listening. I could hear 
 nothing, however, but the wind and the rain. 
 Having lighted a candle I dressed myself with 
 all haste and opened the door, beyond which 
 I could discern the figure of an old man in 
 the hallway. Was he a straggler who had 
 got in at the street door? I asked myself; and 
 listened for the familiar voice of importunity. 
 The old man approached me, and my wonder 
 grew, for he was not a mendicant, as I had 
 guessed, but an old gentleman in stock and 
 collar and a suit of broadcloth, cut in the 
 fashion of my grandfather s time. His hair 
 was white, his face pale, his clothes dripping. 
 He put his finger on his lips and shook his 
 head. I liked not his silence, at such an hour 
 of the night, and drew back involuntarily a step 
 or two, although my pity should have drawn 
 me toward him. 
 
 "Sit down," I said, "and tell me what I 
 can do for you. " 
 
 Still he made no reply, but sank into the 
 chair I offered and felt in his pocket and 
 
6 THE MASTER 
 
 withdrew a leathern wallet. He opened it 
 and found a letter which he presented to me. 
 It was directed to my father, Kendric Holm, 
 Esq., at the street and number in London 
 where he had lived for half a century. The 
 address had been crossed and my own added 
 in the familiar handwriting of our old butler: 
 "22 Kirkland Street, Liverpool, top floor." 
 
 It all seemed very strange to me, for my 
 father had been six years in his grave. The 
 old gentleman smiled and nodded as I exam 
 ined the superscription. He took a small 
 slate from his pocket and wrote hastily: 
 
 "Are you his son?" 
 
 I nodded and said, "Yes." 
 
 Then he wrote the words, "Open and read 
 the letter." So I broke its seal and there 
 was my call into the long thoroughfare of 
 my life story. It bore the date of March 5, 
 1879, and no indication of the place whence 
 it came: 
 
 DEAR BROTHER: 
 
 I need your help. Come to me at once. 
 Consequences of moment to me, to you 
 and to all men depend upon your coming 
 promptly. Let nothing stand in your 
 way. You shall be well repaid for any 
 
THE MASTER 7 
 
 sacrifice of time or money that my wish 
 involves. The bearer who leaves to-day 
 on his way down to the sea will bring you 
 here. He is provided with funds. Fol 
 low him and bring no one with you and 
 come as soon as you can. . If, perchance, 
 you be ill or dead, even, this letter is for 
 your son whom I shall welcome as I 
 would welcome you. 
 
 From your loving brother, 
 DAVID HOLM. 
 
 I had often heard my father speak of his 
 brother David now my nearest relative who 
 had gone to America long before I was born. 
 We had had no news of him since I was a little 
 lad, just out of the nursery. In a package 
 of old letters, which my father had given to 
 me, were two from this brother of his, and I 
 remembered their postmark and their brevity 
 and the antique quality of their script. He 
 was a doctor in Detroit w r hen those letters 
 were written. Here was the odd and unmis 
 takable handwriting with which I had been 
 long familiar. 
 
 Singular as the message was, the messenger 
 was more so. I soon discovered that he could 
 neither hear nor speak, and that he wished to 
 
8 THE MASTER 
 
 know my answer. I brought some dry 
 clothes from my wardrobe, but he would not 
 touch them until I had written these words for 
 him on the slate: 
 
 "I will go with you." 
 
 His face glowed with pleasure as he took 
 my hand. Then he looked about him and 
 shook his head and wrote: 
 
 "You shall have a better home. He is 
 rich and some day you may be his lieir. " 
 
 He took a hundred-pound note from his 
 pocket and gave it to me. 
 
 "Go to-morrow, and get passage on first 
 steamer," he wrote. 
 
 I invited him to sleep in my bed, and he 
 answered that he was ill and would be glad 
 to rest until morning. 
 
 He would stop, now and then, as lie was 
 getting ready for bed and put his hand to his 
 side and shake his head ruefully. He lay 
 in bed at last, and I was about to go for a 
 doctor, when he beckoned to me, and then 
 this dialogue, with the aid of slate and pencil: 
 
 "Don t leave me," he wrote, and I thought 
 it an odd request. 
 
 "When did you reach England?" was my 
 query. 
 
 "March 19th, by the Northland" he wrote. 
 
THE MASTER 9 
 
 Soon he added: "Started from the inn before 
 dark and missed my way." 
 
 By and by he put the slate under his pillow 
 and closed his eyes, and when I saw him 
 resting quietly I lowered the lamplight and 
 lay down upon a sofa and fell asleep. A 
 strange cry awoke me. The sun was shining 
 and the room very still. I rose and 
 found the stranger lying dead where I had 
 left him when I went to my couch soon after 
 midnight. The slate and pencil were in his 
 hands and the former bore this unfinished 
 message: 
 
 "Our home is at Lac " 
 
 Death had cut him off in the midst of it, for 
 the last letters showed the weakening of his 
 hand, and sprawled to the edge of the slate, 
 and I could scarcely read them. 
 
 So it was that my mystery and my quest 
 began. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 1HAD taken quarters at the Silver Mug, in 
 New York, an odd little inn with trees and 
 shaded tables on either side of a walk that 
 led to its front door. There people sat long 
 over their food and wine, of a summer evening, 
 and forgot the day. Many strange and curi 
 ous people made their home at the Mug - 
 actors, musicians, artists, and a certain poet 
 who borrowed eighty dollars from me, with 
 which to produce a tragedy, and nearly suc 
 ceeded, for the sum had touched the bottom 
 of my purse. There my days were enlivened 
 by the Mug s talent labouring with its tech 
 nique on the xylophone, the cornet or the 
 banjo, and my nights by roistering home- 
 comers after the play. 
 
 I had been permitted to keep the hundred 
 pounds which the messenger of my uncle had 
 given to me, and that sum and I had begun 
 our adventures. I had found it a feeble and 
 failing partner, and one summer evening 
 when I sat rather hopeless in the garden of 
 the Silver Mug, eating my dinner, a small, 
 
 10 
 
THE MASTER 11 
 
 grizzly, serious-looking man, with a stiff leg 
 and a weather-beaten face of many scars and 
 wrinkles, limped along the garden walk, his 
 cane clanking on the stone flags, and sat down 
 at my table. He had a nose which invited 
 thoughtful contemplation and suggested thrill 
 ing incidents. It had been broken in the middle 
 and twisted to one side and turned up at the 
 end. I observed, also, that the skin of his 
 hands was rough and hairy. He looked about 
 the place with the air of a dog fancier survey 
 ing a litter of pups and with no high opinion 
 of them. His small gray eyes, that were deep- 
 set, under a line of grizzled fur that crossed 
 the base of his forehead, settled on a waiter 
 who stood some feet away. He summoned 
 him by tapping on the floor with his cane, 
 and demanded to know, first, in a domineer 
 ing fashion, if he were to be kept waiting all 
 day, and next if he could have scallops and 
 bacon. 
 
 The waiter consulted the bill and nodded, 
 and the newcomer went on with a playful 
 wink of his eye: 
 
 "Steer em up alongside, sonny, with some 
 taters an a bottle o gin." 
 
 He looked across at me and winked one 
 eye again, and I could scarcely keep my 
 
12 THE MASTER 
 
 countenance on account of his odd behaviour. 
 While he sat waiting he smacked his lips and 
 ground his teeth together, and picked up a 
 table-knife and felt its edge with his thumb. 
 
 Soon a woman passed us. His eyes fol 
 lowed her, and he gave a low whistle and 
 leaned toward me and whispered confiden 
 tially: "Neat rigged an tidy!" 
 
 I made no answer but turned to the old sea 
 dog for such I took him to be a bit 
 angry at his rudeness. 
 
 "Wai, what s the matter o you, my 
 pippin?" he asked in a pouncing manner. 
 
 " My pippin!" I exclaimed with resent 
 ment. "Pardon me, sir, but you will please 
 excuse me from being your pippin." 
 
 He had addressed me and the waiter as if 
 we had been the veriest slaves in his household. 
 
 "I mean it friendly," he answered, with a 
 stern glance and a wink of challenge. He 
 speared a pickle with a quick jab of his 
 fork and added: "Don t git on the high 
 ropes. Leave the cap n alone. He s been 
 to sea an ain t seen a lady fer three year an 
 when they swish by they tech his feelinks, 
 an he speaks em - - that s what he does. 
 Hell s bells! If I had steam in me an* a 
 whistle on the smoke-stack I d give a toot ev ry 
 
THE MASTER 13 
 
 time I seen a lady go by so I would an no 
 wonder." 
 
 I began to regard him with increasing 
 sympathy and respect. It was only a rough 
 sort of sea courtesy which had provoked my 
 anger, and I was appeased. 
 
 "Once in a while they fling a harpoon 
 right into my vitals and give a yank on the 
 line," he added with a slow wink. "An* I ve 
 had em tow me hellwards out o my course, 
 matey, fore I cut loose an let em go." 
 
 He whetted his knife on the edge of his plate 
 for half a moment and added: "I like the 
 looks on em an the sound on em when they 
 go by some kind o proud an purty 
 like a schooner in new sails, an I ve had em 
 git mad an smash me in the eye, an do ye 
 think I hits em back ? No! not Cap n Rog o 
 the Susq, says I not never, an that s the 
 truth. He ll take anythink f m a lady." 
 
 He broke off a piece of bread and stuffed 
 his mouth and went on with a bulge in his 
 left cheek. "They bring the man out of a 
 lad. As soon as we come ashore an git a 
 look at em we begin t step high. Look a 
 that ring." 
 
 He showed me a cheap seal ring on the little 
 finger of his left hand. 
 
14 THE MASTER 
 
 Two dollars!" he whispered with a wink; 
 "but I ll make it pay me ten to one you 
 mind what I say." 
 
 He #ave IIH- ;i >!mrt talk on the fjiir "sect" 
 and its liking for "nicknacks" and, having 
 eaten his dinner, touched his stiff knee, and 
 said with a look and a tone that seemed to 
 complain of his ill luck: " Ain t what I used 
 to be since I got a >ny in my leg." 
 
 He spoke the words, "sny in my leg," with 
 squinting eyes and the same tone of com 
 plaint as before. I took it to mean a slight 
 but permanent bend. 
 
 Soon he lifted the stiff leg to the seat of a 
 chair beside him, scratched a match on his 
 rough palm and covered its blaze with his 
 knotty fingers, as if he were out in the wind, 
 and lighted a stogy. Then he puffed thought 
 fully a moment and resumed his reflections 
 on the peculiar powers and capacities of 
 women. 
 
 "There s no time that a rnan ll fight like 
 when a lady stan s by an puts in a word 
 good an frequent," he began. 
 
 That started him on a thrilling tale about 
 "a one-eyed lady," who had been cook of 
 the Susq and who had assisted him in a battle 
 with mutineers. This energetic and cyclo- 
 
THE MASTER 15 
 
 pean lady held me when I had been about to 
 leave the table, and really assisted fate as well 
 as the Captain, for although I should have 
 been thinking of better things he soon had 
 me by the ears, so to speak, and my heart beat 
 ing like a trip-hammer. He owned a big 
 schooner called the Susquehanna, and had just 
 arrived from Mexico, so he told me, with a 
 load of pelts. His name was Roger Rone 
 and he explained: 
 
 "Some calls me Rog Rone (he gave the g 
 its hard sound), an some calls me Cap n 
 Rog, an* you can call me any think if ye say 
 it friendly." 
 
 Born on the Bowery nearly sixty years before, 
 of an Yankee mother and an English father, 
 both of sea-faring stock, as he told me, Rone 
 had run away in his boyhood and shipped 
 before the mast. 
 
 We sat together until the evening had 
 passed and he told me tales of the sea and 
 smote the table with a clenched fist, and 
 winked an eye sternly when he came to his 
 fights and quarrels, and often shook his rough 
 knuckles under my nose, and once threatened 
 me with his bottle, to show me how he had 
 laid about him with a broadsword. I thought 
 of leaving two or three times, but soon we had 
 
16 THE MASTER 
 
 the place to ourselves, and I must confess 
 that his adventures were like a wonderful 
 story-book. 
 
 The talented guests of the Mug had begun 
 to return from concert hall and theatre when 
 he invited me to his lodgings to spend "the 
 sweet o the night," and added by way of 
 argument: 
 
 "It ain t often that I takes a fancy to any 
 person like I done to you. I ll show ye some 
 little trinkets, as I calls em, which are real 
 particular fine an no mistake, Cappy." 
 
 I wanted to know more of this singular man 
 and so accepted his invitation. 
 
 We left the Mug and he clanked along 
 beside me with his heavy cane at a pace that 
 made me hurry. In this manner and with 
 scarcely a word passing between us we walked 
 to Bleecker Street and, turning westward, 
 continued our tramp for a matter of five or 
 six minutes. Soon my leader opened an iron 
 gate and I followed up the steps of a dingy 
 brick dwelling. I could see a dim light on 
 the painted window-panes of the first floor 
 above the basement, and the links of a chain, 
 cut gracefully in the paint that covered the 
 glass, shone like gold as they let out the light 
 within. 
 
THE MASTER 17 
 
 The Cap n thrust a key into the door and 
 we entered as it swung open. A gas-jet 
 lighted the hall within, the bare floor of which 
 was creaky and worn with much coming and 
 going. Its walls had once been covered with 
 blue paper, now dirt-stained and partly 
 stripped away. Through a sliding door, half 
 open, I could see a number of men playing 
 cards at a big round table rough-faced, 
 big-handed men, plainly clad, who peered 
 through the door at us. Instantly the thought 
 came to me that I had done a foolish thing, 
 coming to such a place alone with a stranger, 
 for this part of Bleecker Street was none too 
 respectable, as I knew. But after all it was 
 probably some lodge or club of working men 
 who were now engaged in harmless recreation, 
 I thought. The Cap n reassured me by 
 saying: 
 
 "Take a look at the club room, Cappy. 
 It s a snug place and no mistake." 
 
 We stood in its half-open door and surveyed 
 the room. It was furnished like the best room 
 in a cheap tenement tawdry colours in 
 plush upholstery and carpet. A stack of camp 
 chairs in the corner, suggested a place of 
 assembly. A plain kitchen table covered 
 with trades union and socialistic books and 
 
18 THE MASTER 
 
 papers stood near the door. A portrait 
 caught my eye and held it until we left the 
 room a man s head and shoulders with 
 a wonderful strength and repose in them. 
 The expression of the head and body, and 
 especially that of the strong brave eyes, was 
 lion-like and impressive. 
 
 "Jack Condon," said the Cap n as I 
 raised my finger. "Some calls him the Devil, 
 an no wonder." 
 
 "And what is your club?" 
 
 The T ilers," he answered, as he limped 
 into the hall ahead of me, and up a creaking 
 stairway. 
 
 At the top of the last flight and rather close 
 under the roof he unlocked a door and entered 
 a dark room while I waited on the landing. 
 As he turned the key a loud chattering and a 
 burst of maudlin, careless laughter rose within. 
 An odour, like that of a monkey house, came 
 from the open doorway. My companion was 
 crossing the dark room when I heard him trip 
 and fall clattering on the floor. He rose with 
 a loud oath and struck a match and lighted a 
 gas-jet. I entered and saw a large attic room 
 which extended from the front to the rear 
 walls of the building. The Cap n felt his 
 l.i me leg and limped sorely to the side of an 
 
THE MASTER 19 
 
 old lounge and threw down his hat. A great 
 green parrot chained to a pole at the farther 
 end of the room laughed uproariously. The 
 Cap n raised his cane, and as he struck the air 
 with it, a blade some eight inches long darted 
 from its ferrule and clicked into a socket. He 
 poised the stout stick in his right hand 
 and gave it a fling above his shoulder, 
 reeling a little on his sound leg with arms 
 extended as the weapon left his hand. It 
 flew straight at the bird s breast and cut 
 through its body. The Cap n limped across 
 the room and deliberately drew the knife from 
 its wound and finished the bird with a blow. 
 
 "Ye will laugh at the Cap n will ye?" 
 he muttered. Ye re all tryin to walk on the 
 Cap n, so ye are, the hull bunch o ye." 
 
 He took an old, rusty broadsword from a 
 little table and approached a small sheet- 
 iron stove that stood a few feet away from 
 the doorway. 
 
 "Ye just reached out with this ere leg 
 o yours to ketch the foot o the Cap n, so ye 
 did," he declared, as he fetched the stove a 
 whack that made it reel half about and settle 
 down with a kind of shudder. Another blow 
 and the pipe came apart and a length of the 
 same with the stove tumbled noisily on the 
 
20 THE MASTER 
 
 floor. Then the Cap n continued his talk, 
 emphasizing his words now and then with a 
 blow of the broadsword: You says to yer- 
 self the Cap n 11 be back by an by an if 
 he don t think to strike a match as soon as 
 ever he opens the door, you says, I ll lay here 
 in the dark an stick out my leg an trip him. 
 You thinks an you says he can t never do 
 nothink to me, the Cap n can t. I m iron an* 
 I ll just give him one that s what I ll do. 
 An ye done it spiteful --ye did - a if now 
 the Cap n has got his say. Hell s bells! you re 
 a tidy bit of a stove, you are. Now you ve 
 learnt suthink bout the Cap n an I wouldn t 
 wonder." 
 
 The stove lay dented and crumpled into 
 utter shapelessness. 
 
 The Cap n threw down his sword and lifted 
 the crumpled stove in his arms and lugged it 
 across the room and balanced it on the sill of 
 an open window and kicked it into the dark 
 ness beyond. The stove fell crashing on a fence 
 in the back yard and bounded to the earth. 
 
 A gruff voice shouted from the hall below, 
 "Aw -what s -de -matter -wid -ye ?" and the 
 query was swiftly put as if it were all one word. 
 
 The Cap n limped to the mantel shelf and 
 stood silently filling his pipe. 
 
THE MASTER 21 
 
 "I won t be picked on by no stove what 
 ever," he explained when the smoke was 
 coming. "I never done nothink to that stove 
 but black its boots and buy coal for it. I 
 s pose it didn t know no better. Hell s bells! 
 but I m fond of a row, shipmate. It must 
 look like I m crazy, but I can t help it. I 
 have to fight with suthink every day an 
 that s the God s truth. I hain t like nobody 
 you ever seen afore. I d fight a hole in the 
 ground if it didn t treat me proper an. ev ry 
 day in the year I fight the gov ment." 
 
 "What government?" I asked. 
 
 "Ev ry gov ment," he answered with a 
 wink. " They re all rotten. They ve got their 
 feet on the neck o the poor man, Cappy 
 the world over an no mistake. I m for the 
 under dog." 
 
 "I don t believe I d like to fight with you," 
 I said. "You certainly know how to use the 
 sword-cane." 
 
 He opened a closet door and hauled out a 
 kind of scarecrow figure made by stuffing 
 an old suit with straw and stood it up in 
 a corner. Then he stepped back as far as 
 possible and asked where I would have him 
 plant his knife. 
 
 "Aim at the heart," I said. 
 
22 THE MASTER 
 
 Again he poised the weapon and again 
 it sped like an arrow as he flung and balanced 
 on his good leg and his blade pierced the left 
 breast of the lay figure. He continued to 
 throw this deadly knife at the stuffed suit 
 until the coat of the latter was cut to rags. 
 
 "Left leg, plum on the knee, Cap n," 
 he would shout as he flung his weapon. 
 "Through the hold, Cap n," "Abaft the 
 neck, oP friendy," and so he went on with 
 surprising energy and unerring aim. 
 
 He seemed to be vain of his skill and sat 
 down beside me with a wink and began 
 filling his pipe again. A monkey crept 
 from under the lounge where he had been 
 hiding. 
 
 "Ho there, shipmate," said the Cap n, 
 "you slipped below till the storm was over - 
 so ye done. Hell s bells! I m glad ye lived 
 through it." 
 
 The monkey approached him rather tim 
 idly and seeing no threat in his face or hand 
 soon climbed to his knee. 
 
 "Picked up all kinds o trinkets in my 
 travel," said the Cap n, as he lifted from his 
 mantel a small wooden box about four inches 
 long by three in width, one side of which 
 was covered with close-set bars of fine wire. 
 
THE MASTER 23 
 
 Evidently it was the home of some tiny 
 prisoner. 
 
 "Now ye never seen the like o that, I dare 
 presume to say," remarked the Cap n as he 
 lighted a candle and held it close to the wire 
 bars. Its light showed me a great, hairy 
 tarantula scurrying about the sand-covered 
 bottom of the box. 
 
 He inserted a small stick and challenged 
 this dreadful pet of his, which immediately 
 rose on its hind legs in a threatening attitude 
 and uncovered its fangs. 
 
 "Say, cappy," said my companion, "if 
 ye had an enemy an ye could spare im 
 as well as not an was to let this old boy 
 loose in his bedroom there d be trouble, an 
 I wouldn t wonder." 
 
 The Cap n looked into my face and winked 
 knowingly. Then he showed me a box of scor 
 pions and gave me some account of their habits 
 and particularly of their way of stinging. 
 
 In the midst of this he was interrupted by a 
 loud rap. He quickly put away his pets 
 and limped to the door and opened it. 
 
 " Why why up upon my soul an body 
 it s it s the shoemaker," he stammered, as if 
 surprised and embarrassed in no small degree 
 by the man who confronted him. 
 
>4 THE MASTER 
 
 There in the open door stood as handsome 
 a youth as ever I looked upon. His large, 
 blue eyes were clear as a cloudless noonday; 
 his wavy light hair was parted neatly over a 
 broad forehead; his skin was weathered 
 brown, his nose and mouth finely modelled. 
 He was, I judged, some two or three years 
 younger than I. 
 
 He strode into the room without a word 
 to the Cap n and took my hand. 
 
 "This is Mr. Holm," he said, "and I I 
 am Ben Lovel." 
 
 "I do not remember to have met you," 
 I said. 
 
 "No, but I have seen you often and could 
 not help knowing your name." 
 
 "It is very late and I think that I must 
 go," I said rising. 
 
 The newcomer passed a note to Cap n 
 Rone and turned to me and said: 
 
 "If you will let me I will walk to your inn 
 with you." 
 
 I gladly accepted his offer and the Cap n 
 limped to the door with us where we bade 
 him good night. 
 
 An old man with long, white beard and 
 hair stood waiting near the foot of the steps. 
 
 "This is my old master, Horton," said 
 
THE MASTER 25 
 
 the youth as we three set out together. "I 
 saw you coming here with Cap n Rog. I 
 thought it rather strange and followed you." 
 
 The words puzzled me and I thought a 
 moment and said, because I knew not what 
 else to say: 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "Yes; I was troubled and some day you 
 shall know why." 
 
 It was clear that he knew more of the Cap n 
 than he cared to tell, and wished to give me 
 a word of warning. 
 
 "You do not know The Toilers?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Why not join the order?" 
 
 "Is it a good thing?" 
 
 "No, and that s why I m a member and 
 why you should be." 
 
 We walked in silence for a moment or 
 more and then he whispered: 
 
 "Speak not of all this that I have said, and 
 come and see me. " 
 
 He put a card in my hand and as we were 
 now at the gate of the Silver Mug I bade 
 them good night. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 IN THINKING of what I should do, now 
 that my money was nearly spent, I had 
 thought more than once of trying to write for 
 the newspapers. I had written sketches of 
 some length in a sort of diary, in which my ob 
 servations had been recorded, and some little 
 conceit had begun to grow in me. I set down 
 in this book, for I had nothing else to do, a 
 long account of the Cap n and of his adven 
 tures on land and sea and of his lodgings. 
 The next time I saw Rone in the Mug I took 
 him to my room and sat him down and read 
 aloud the sketch that I had written. He \vas 
 greatly pleased and flattered me by saying 
 that "it read like print," and suggested that 
 like as not it would bring me good money. 
 I thought and still think that I had done 
 fairly well for one of my practice and so, having 
 the Cap n s leave, I copied my sketch and took 
 it to the editor of the Sun. 
 
 He read it while I sat just beyond the first 
 line of defence against besieging talent in the 
 city room. He sent for me, by and by, and 
 
THE MASTER 27 
 
 I was led safely past the low wooden barrier 
 in among the seats of the mighty, as I regarded 
 them. Then a few words from the great man, 
 a scratch or two of his pencil, and presto! my 
 plan of life had changed. It was a three-sided 
 compliment that he gave me, being composed 
 of a word of praise, a request for more copy, 
 and an order on the cashier. Here was a 
 mine of treasure beyond the cashier s window 
 and I would dig into it and save myself from 
 destitution, if possible, for I had begun to 
 feel like the Dutchman who neglected his 
 cabbages to look for hidden gold. 
 
 I got along fairly well. Soon there were 
 some who called me a "star" but alas! it was 
 a faint twinkle if any that I had in me. I 
 was all too capable, however, and soon won 
 my way into the Impossible Club. There 
 were five graceless good fellows in the Club. 
 
 We dined together every Saturday in some 
 cozy place and discussed the last play or the 
 latest novel and a night came when one of the 
 party read a poem of his own manufacture. 
 At our next meeting another retaliated with 
 a short tale and that lead to graver crimes. 
 
 One day I went to see the shoemaker whom 
 I had met at the Cap n s lodgings, a pleasure 
 which my busy life had denied me for some 
 
28 THE MASTER 
 
 weeks. I found him in an odd corner of the 
 city called Kerrigan Place. His shop was 
 above a hanging stair on the front of an old 
 brick building with an ironmongery in its base 
 ment. He sat at his bench mending a pair 
 of shoes and greeted me warmly. 
 
 "I ve heard of your success," he said. 
 "Darklight has told me and he has promised 
 to take me to dine with your little club some 
 evening." 
 
 You will have a hearty welcome," I said. 
 
 "I like to hear about books and the men 
 who make them. Have you read the new 
 book of which the papers have said so much ? 
 Its title is "Brothers?" 
 
 "No, but we were speaking of that book 
 at our last dinner. Most of the boys have 
 read it." 
 
 "And do they like it?" 
 
 "They speak of it with a kind of reverence, 
 as if it were one of the few inspired books, and 
 of the mystery of its authorship as if it were 
 like that of the tablets of stone. " 
 
 The shoemaker smiled. 
 
 "It is no mystery to me," he said. "I 
 know the author." 
 
 "I wish that I knew him." 
 
 "And you shall," he answered as he worked. 
 
THE MASTER 39 
 
 "If you tell your readers that it is a certain 
 great man of the name of John Condon you 
 will please him and do no injustice. There 
 is no longer any reason for concealment." 
 
 "It s an important bit of news," I said, "a 
 feature for the first page under a spread head. 
 Tell me of this great man." 
 
 "My friend, let us save words," said the 
 shoemaker. "I will take you to see him and 
 you shall make your own opinions and then 
 I shall have something to say." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 "To-night." 
 
 "Our club meets to-night," I said. 
 You can go to the club, for we cannot see 
 my master until midnight." 
 
 "And if you will dine with us we can leave 
 the club in good time." I urged. 
 
 "I cannot dine with you," he answered, 
 "but if you will call for me at nine I will go 
 with you to meet your friends." 
 
 I left the shoemaker, having agreed to call 
 for him at nine, and as I reached the pavement 
 a quaint inn, with an old lantern hanging 
 over its steps, caught my eye. It was opposite 
 the little shop in one of the oddest nooks of the 
 old city. I entered for a bite of luncheon and 
 so discovered the future home of our club. 
 
30 THE MASTER 
 
 That evening we met at the "Hole in the 
 Wall " - a cozy place of refreshment back of 
 Temple Court where I spoke of my dis 
 covery and we set out for the Lanthorne in 
 Kerrigan Place. The night had fallen dark 
 and misty and we tramped through silent 
 and deserted streets in the lower part of the 
 town and, by and by, had filed into the nar 
 row entrance of Kerrigan Place. It was not 
 half a block long and the brick walls on 
 cither side of it came together in a curve at 
 the end. Our footsteps filled the little street 
 with echoes. 
 
 We halted, suddenly, under the lantern sign 
 before a low, wide window of small panes 
 beyond which w r e could see the shine of 
 glasses and the flicker of an open wood fire. 
 "The Lanthorne" was the name painted on a 
 panel of its door. 
 
 It was a kind of half-way house between 
 old times and the present, and its ancient, 
 Dutch door opened on a merry world. That 
 door had been built for men who had big 
 stomachs and nothing to do but fill them, and 
 heads not too far above their business, so 
 that the tallest of us had to pay a toll of rever 
 ence on its threshold. A stout and cheery- 
 faced man in a white apron came from behind 
 
THE MASTER 31 
 
 the little bar as we entered and gave us a 
 hearty welcome. 
 
 "This way, gentlemen," said he, as he led 
 us through the cafe, in which a dozen people 
 or so had got to their cognac and tobacco, 
 into a small private room where a table was 
 spread for six. And how well spread! - 
 gold-wrought glasses by every plate and in the 
 centre a great vase of flowers and platters of 
 snowy celery! We chortled and exchanged 
 glances. 
 
 "Is this a cocktail that I see before me?" 
 said Pipps tragically. "Come, let me clutch 
 thee." 
 
 "Or is it but a cocktail of the mind? 
 a false creation proceeding from the heat- 
 oppressed brain?" Lengthy Higgins added, 
 as he raised his glass. 
 
 We all looked into his face, distinguished 
 by its sadness, its large, round spectacles and 
 its full beard, and laughed, for no one ever 
 looked at him without laughing. 
 
 "Alas! I fear it will cost much gold," 
 said James Darklight known as "Jimmy." 
 "Some of you will have to stake me." 
 
 In came a waiter with blue points and 
 another with old sherry. 
 
 "Some of us can write like angels and some 
 
32 THE MASTER 
 
 of us want to," said the ever hopeful Dark- 
 light, by way of continuing the talk which 
 had been interrupted by our entrance. "We d 
 like to break into literature - 
 
 4 With a Darklight and a Jimmy I should 
 think we might succeed/ Pipps interrupted. 
 
 * They do treat one as if he were a burglar - 
 those satraps that edit the magazines," Jimmy 
 went on. You d think they were appointed 
 by heaven to guard the house of letters. 
 When I try to cross its threshold their eyes 
 are like revolvers aimed at my head." 
 
 44 It is quite just; in literature every one is 
 supposed to be a fool until he has proved him 
 self innocent," said Pipps with a smiling face. 
 You are still under suspicion." 
 
 "I suggest," said Darklight, " that we put 
 each other on trial and learn who is guilty and 
 who is not. I propose a club a joyous kind of 
 club - for that purpose. We ought to study 
 this old town of ours. It s a wonderful muse 
 um of character and colour and deviltry and 
 absurd splendour. Let s have a room like this 
 and a dinner every Saturday. Two of us 
 shall w r rite tales or poems and read them at 
 the dinner. The rest shall find as much fault 
 as possible, and we must all promise to take 
 it in good part." 
 
THE MASTER 33 
 
 "And our praise would grow like weeds 
 and our heads like cabbages," said the cynical 
 Mr. Pipps. 
 
 "No; we ll prohibit praise," Jimmy an 
 swered. "It s criticism we want. We must 
 all agree to speak our minds and give and 
 take, and promise to be happy. Let the 
 only praise be silence." 
 
 "But no poems!" said Pipps. "I d rather 
 you d draw r a revolver on me than a poem. 
 Anyhow, let s insist that poems be carried 
 openly in the belt, as it were so that 
 those who read may run." 
 
 Darklight, in no way discouraged, went on: 
 "We could bring curious people to the feast 
 and get them to talk to us tramps, thieves, 
 fakirs, Bowery boys, and we could even 
 descend to authors, statesmen, and million 
 aires. We could try to draw them out and 
 discover new motives and points of view." 
 
 "The school for novelists," said Colonel 
 Christmas of a light spirit and a heavy body, 
 called by courtesy "Colonel Christmas." He 
 was the religious editor of a great journal. 
 
 The club was planned and in half an hour 
 it was duly organized. 
 
 "I know a singular character here in Kerri 
 gan Place," I suggested. "We might begin 
 
34 THE MASTER 
 
 upon him and see if we can digest the fellow. 
 He s the most wonderful man I ever saw." 
 
 44 Who is he?" Pipps inquired. 
 
 "A shoemaker." 
 
 "A shoemaker!" 
 
 "It s Ben Lovel and I know him," said 
 Darklight. "He s a musician and a poet, 
 and a philosopher and a gentleman. He s 
 a poor devil that works for a living - 
 
 "Works!" said Pipps, "a man of his 
 attainments ought to know better than that." 
 
 **He knows more than all of us put to 
 gether," said Darklight, as he cast a frown up 
 and down the table. "We re babies; I tell 
 you, we re not in his class. He s a man." 
 
 "Steer him up to us," said Pipps; "1 vr 
 seen so many poets I d be glad to look at a 
 
 man. 
 
 "I am to bring him here at nine o clock," 
 I announced. 
 
 "Let me go after him now," Darklight 
 proposed and I waived my privilege and he 
 left us. 
 
 Terrapin was being served and champagne 
 was flowing into long-stemmed, brilliant gob 
 lets, when we all came to, as it were. 
 
 "Something is wrong," said Pipps. "This 
 isn t possible." 
 
THE MASTER 35 
 
 " I believe we re all dreaming," said Lengthy 
 Higgins with a laugh. 
 
 "Send for the proprietor," I suggested. 
 
 Our host entered in half a moment. 
 
 "I think you must have made a mistake," 
 said Pipps, looking up at him. "We didn t 
 order a spread like this and it can t be your 
 regular table d hote." 
 
 "Are you not gentlemen of the press are 
 you not the friends of Mr. Horton ?" our host 
 inquired. 
 
 "We are gentlemen of the press, but, alas! 
 we are not friends of Mr. Horton," said 
 Pipps with a look of amazement. 
 
 Then said our host: "It s very strange. 
 Mr. Horton ordered the dinner and paid for 
 it and his friends were to be here at seven, 
 and they have not come at all. I thought 
 you were the men." 
 
 "Heavenly manna!" exclaimed Mr. Pipps, 
 looking from one to another. 
 
 "Well, gentlemen, I have my pay and you 
 might as well have the dinner," said our host. 
 
 We settled in our chairs again with a sense 
 of peace and comfort which I have rarely 
 known. 
 
 Suddenly Darklight returned with Ben 
 Lovel. The latter shook hands with each of 
 
36 THE MASTER 
 
 us and took the chair offered him without a 
 word. I observed his face more carefully 
 than before. It had a modest, gentle look in 
 it, although it was the face of a man who 
 knew the world. Pipps remarked to me, some 
 days later, that Lovel looked like one who had 
 stepped out of an old oil painting, and therein 
 he repeated my own thought. Well, we were 
 all his friends before the niglil was an hour 
 older, and had voted him into the club. He 
 had said little, but, somehow, we knew that he 
 was a good fellow and that he had something 
 for us. I sat beside him at the table and 
 asked about his life. 
 
 "I make shoes," he answered simply. 
 
 "Do you ever write?" was my query. 
 
 "Yes; but I think I can do better making 
 shoes." 
 
 I asked about his history, but he gently 
 turned me aside as if it were a thing scarcely 
 worthy of his thought or mine. 
 
 Our host had entered the room with a tall, 
 heavy gentleman in full dress, who carried a 
 cape-coat on his arm. The large head of the 
 stranger was adorned with iron-gray hair, 
 closely trimmed moustache of the same colour 
 and a handsome, merry face. He laughed 
 as he looked down at us and said: 
 
THE MASTER 37 
 
 " I am Israel Horton, gentlemen. May I know 
 whom I have the honour of entertaining ?" 
 
 Colonel Christmas, being the oldest member 
 of our party, rose and introduced himself and 
 each of us in turn. We knew all about Mr. 
 Horton, although few of us had ever seen him. 
 He had come to New York from the Middle 
 West long before and was said to be one of 
 the richest men in the world. Certain news 
 papers had called him "the railroad king." 
 
 "Our friend here made a little mistake," he 
 said, turning to the landlord. "My other 
 guests were to be here at eleven and not at 
 seven o clock. If you re happy no harm is 
 done. There s another private room and 
 plenty to eat and drink." 
 
 "And we re in great luck," said Colonel 
 Christmas. "We ve had squabs and canvas- 
 backs, and here comes Mr. Horton, the rarest 
 bird of all. Sir, we propose your health." 
 
 We rose and drank to the millionaire, who 
 bowed and laughed and tossed his cape-coat 
 to the landlord. 
 
 "How did you learn that I was a bird?" 
 he asked. "I didn t suppose it was generally 
 known." 
 
 "Sir, no man could make your speed with 
 out wings," the Colonel suggested. 
 
38 THE PIASTER 
 
 "Well, so long as you don t roast me I m 
 with you, as the turkey said to the farmer," 
 he remarked and sat down at the table. " You 
 seem to know about me tell me about your 
 selves." 
 
 M We re a bunch of good fellows who write 
 for a living," the Colonel went on. "If you 
 should desire a modest loan, sir say fifty 
 cents or so you could get it from any one 
 of us, without security, as soon as he could 
 borrow the sum. We tap the springs of 
 romance and the sacred fount of song. Epics, 
 lyrics, novels, plays, promptly and neatly 
 executed. Sonnets made while you wait, and 
 tragedies done to order. We dine together 
 Saturday nights." 
 
 "Well, invite me to one of your dinners and 
 I ll call it square," said Mr. Horton. 
 
 "Sir, we invite you for next Saturday at 
 seven o clock in this room," said Colonel 
 Christmas. " There will be stories and some 
 talk about them." 
 
 "And I ll have one to tell," the great man 
 promised. 
 
 "I know your brother," said Ben Lovel, as 
 he looked up at the millionaire. 
 
 "My brother!" Horton exclaimed. 
 
 "Your brother Gabriel Horton," Lovel 
 
THE MASTER 39 
 
 added as quietly as if he were speaking of the 
 weather. 
 
 The millionaire set down his glass and 
 stared at the young man as if he knew not 
 what to make of him. 
 
 "My God, sir!" he gasped, "my brother 
 is dead." 
 
 "No he is alive," said Lovel, slowly, as 
 he went on with his eating. 
 
 "Boy, I ll give you a million dollars to 
 bring him here," said the other eagerly. 
 
 Lovel looked at his watch and said: "It 
 is not necessary; he will be here in ten 
 minutes I presume." 
 
 The room was warm and a window had been 
 lowered. 
 
 "Listen, I think that he is coming now," 
 said the young man raising his hand. 
 
 We could hear slow footsteps coming nearer 
 on the stone flags beyond the window and 
 their echoes in the air. And there was a kind 
 of sadness in the sound. 
 
 "It is his step," Ben Lovel whispered. 
 
 The sounds fell into silence. Horton rose 
 with a whispered exclamation. 
 
 Then we saw a bearded face against the 
 window, with large, gray eyes that were peer 
 ing in at us. It was the man whom I had 
 
40 THE MASTER 
 
 seen with Lovel after I left the lodgings of 
 Cap n Rone. 
 
 The millionaire rose and hurried through 
 the open door. We followed him into the tap 
 room, where the brothers met and embraced 
 each other. In a moment Horton turned 
 and said to us: "Good night, boys; I must 
 go with my brother. Please say nothing 
 of this and make my excuses to the other 
 dinner party." 
 
 The two went away together. 
 
 "This is sacred history," said Colonel 
 Christmas. "Not a word about it remem 
 ber now." 
 
 "\Miat s the story?" I asked Lovel. 
 
 "Ask Horton," said he; " it isn t my story." 
 
 And he would say nothing more of it. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 T OVEL and I stood talking together at 
 JL-J the end of Kerrigan Place. It was 
 nearing midnight and the others had left us 
 and started for Park Row. I felt an odd 
 pleasure in the company of my new friend 
 and as he stood near me in the darkness I 
 repeated my best poem. It makes me sad 
 to think what a fool I was, and what a peril 
 to the unwary, those days. He listened 
 patiently and took my hand when I had 
 finished and said kindly: 
 
 "I like it. Come up stairs and smoke a 
 pipe with me." 
 
 I remember well the joy with which I 
 followed him as we made our way up the 
 hanging iron stair. 
 
 My companion lighted a candle and sat 
 down upon the leathern seat of his work-bench 
 while I took a chair. 
 
 "You came from England," he remarked 
 as we were fining our pipes. 
 
 "And have been here about three years," 
 I answered. 
 
42 THE MASTER 
 
 "And you cannot find your uncle?" 
 
 "Oh, you know about that!" I exclaimed 
 with surprise, for with all my talking I had 
 said little of my quest since I began it. 
 
 "Something," he said. "It was a hard 
 task and you were wise to abandon it. Keep 
 at work. I can see only one thing between 
 you and success." 
 
 "What is that?" I asked eagerly. 
 * Yourself," he answered; "try to forget 
 yourself. Think only of the other fellow 
 That reminds me we must be off if we 
 are to see my master, Condon, to-night," he 
 said rising, "I have told him of you that 
 you were one to be trusted. Moreover, I have 
 promised that you will stand with us and do 
 what you can to help." 
 
 "I will do as you wish," was my answer; 
 such was the confidence that he had made 
 me feel. 
 
 We left the shop and made our w r ay to one of 
 the ferries and crossed and proceeded through 
 dim-lit streets and alleys. My companion 
 hurried and said not a word to me, but whistled 
 in a low tone as he walked. Suddenly we saw 
 a man standing in the street ahead of us. 
 
 "Friends?" he whispered, as we stopped 
 beside him. 
 
THE MASTER 43 
 
 "True friends," Lovel answered under his 
 breath. 
 
 "Of the hard hand?" the stranger asked 
 as he shook hands with my companion. 
 
 "And the strong purpose," Lovel whispered. 
 
 "Come with me," said the other, and we 
 followed him through a dark alley and turned 
 into a doorway and climbed a flight of stairs 
 and immediately descended two others. 
 
 There Lovel bade me wait a few minutes, 
 and I stood in the darkness and heard him and 
 his leader walking away. He returned soon 
 and came and took my hand and led me 
 through a long narrow passage, at the end of 
 which a door swung open as we approached. 
 It admitted us to a large, gloomy room where 
 some two hundred men were sitting on rude 
 benches, under a cloud of tobacco smoke. 
 Burning gas-jets flung a dim light upon their 
 heads. A platform at the end of an aisle, 
 which divided the audience, held a table where 
 a man sat with lighted candles on either side 
 of him. He was speaking in a low tone as 
 we passed down the aisle to seats near the 
 table. It was he whose portrait I had seen in 
 the clubroom below the lodgings of Cap n 
 Rone. I could see his strong face in the 
 candlelight and hear his words plainly. 
 
44 THE MASTER 
 
 "I have heard some foolish talk here," he 
 went on. "One has threatened to use his 
 pistol; he will use his brains and thro\v his 
 pistol away. Permit me to remind him, and 
 others like him, that he will obey orders. 
 Not a man will lift a hand without the consent 
 of the Council. A member who does not obey 
 is an enemy and a traitor and will be treated 
 as such." 
 
 The chairman was interrupted by applause. 
 He was a big-boned, brawny, deep-chested 
 man of about forty, with gray eyes and dark, 
 close-cut hair which had begun to turn a little 
 above his ears. He had spoken quietly and 
 with a faint Irish brogue and a suggestion of 
 power behind his utterance. It came largely, 
 I think, from his masterful face and manner, 
 for many might have used better words. 
 
 "It is my master, Condon," Lovel whispered. 
 "He is called the Napoleon of Discontent/ 
 
 I had been reading of him that very day - 
 a quiet, strong man who had come east from 
 the Colorado mines some years before. There 
 were prominent labour leaders, union presi 
 dents and heads of federations, but rumour 
 had it that all took their orders from him. 
 He was said to be a born leader, of conserva 
 tive tendencies. 
 
THE MASTER 45 
 
 "And what meeting is this?" I asked 
 Lovel. 
 
 "It is the Centre Link of the Toiler s 
 Chain," he answered. 
 
 The chairman rapped for order and said : 
 
 "We will now hear from the delegate from 
 St. Petersburg." 
 
 A full-bearded man rose and told in broken 
 English how the Chain had been carried into 
 Russia; of its troubles and the oppression it 
 hoped to overcome. He told how money 
 which had come from the Council in New 
 York had been expended in that distant 
 capital. In conclusion he begged for a 
 private interview in relation to the "secret 
 work." 
 
 "I will see you to-morrow," said the 
 Napoleon, and called another delegate. 
 Reports were heard from London, Birming 
 ham, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, Denver, Col., 
 Pittsburg, Pa., and Cleveland, Ohio, after 
 which the convention adjourned to resume 
 its work on the morrow. 
 
 Lovel presented me to John Condon and 
 commended me as a trusted friend. The 
 Napoleon gave me his hand and a word of 
 hearty greeting, and turned to others. 
 
 As we were leaving the place I heard the 
 
46 THE MASTER 
 
 tap of a cane on the floor and a familiar 
 voice saying: 
 
 44 Ho there, friendy!" 
 
 I turned and greeted Rog Rone, and hurried 
 away with Lovel. 
 
 "Come with me and have a bite of supper," 
 I suggested by way of returning his kindness. 
 
 " Come to my shop," he answered ; " I have 
 food and we will save our money." 
 
 We went straight to Kerrigan Place, and 
 as he was turning the key in his door I could 
 see that the night shadows had begun to lift. 
 I went with him into a little room behind the 
 shop where a bed and the floor were covered 
 with the skins of animals. 
 
 "Do not speak or write of the Chain," he 
 said to me; "Condon says little; he abhors 
 publicity. Therefore, in this matter lay your 
 hand upon your mouth." 
 
 I sat in a chair and he began to prepare 
 coffee and thoughtfully whistled as he worked. 
 Suddenly he came with the candle in his hand 
 and stood looking into my face. 
 
 "My friend," he began, "I have a secret 
 and I ask you to share it with me." 
 
 "Can I help you carry it?" I asked. 
 
 "Just that; the burden is too heavy and I 
 need your help." 
 
THE MASTER 47 
 
 "Then I shall be glad to share it." 
 
 "I know all about you," he said, "and I 
 am willing to put my life in your hands." 
 
 His life! I wondered what he could mean 
 by that, but soon understood or thought so. 
 
 "While I trust you perfectly," he went on, 
 "it is only fair that I should tell you this: 
 mine is a dangerous secret." 
 
 He left the room and I could hear him turn 
 ing the key in the street door. 
 
 " If it should be known that I had told you," 
 he whispered on his return, "neither your 
 life nor mine would be worth a penny. It is 
 like having dynamite in your pockets." 
 
 "It doesn t frighten me," I answered. 
 
 He rose and poured my coffee and brought 
 it with a plate of cold meat and bread. 
 
 "It is about my master, Condon," he 
 whispered. "He loves me; I am the only one 
 that he trusts like as one trusts a brother. 
 When I say that a man is worthy and true 
 he takes my word for it. So they admitted 
 you to the chamber. But I had something 
 hid in my heart a purpose." 
 
 I had but just met him and yet he thought 
 me worthy and true and w r as about to put his 
 life in my hands! 
 
 "Trust me and in time you shall know all," 
 
48 THE MASTER 
 
 he went on. The chain is a mighty thing and 
 there are few of its members, even, who know 
 its power. You have heard of it, my brother, 
 but it is like a river flowing underground. It 
 comes out here and there, and you look and 
 wonder but you do not know how great it is. 
 There are a million men in this brotherhood 
 and the number is growing. He holds them 
 in his hand. My master, Condon, is their 
 king." 
 
 "I should think it likely," w r as my answer. 
 
 44 He began with a clean heart and a great 
 purpose," Lovel went on; " but the clamour 
 of the multitude, whose hearts are afire 
 and who would have gold as plenty as the 
 stones of the brooks, have almost borne him 
 down." 
 
 He hesitated and I looked at him in silence. 
 
 "I believe him to be the most dangerous 
 of men," he added in a whisper. "His arm 
 reaches around the world. He touches many 
 races. He might bring us all together into 
 one great family of brothers, I have dared to 
 hope. He might be a peacemaker; he chooses 
 to be a Napoleon." 
 
 The noble face of the young man who sat 
 beside me had grown very serious. 
 
 44 1 have read the heart of my master, Con- 
 
THE MASTER 49 
 
 don," he continued. "He knows not what to 
 do; he is encompassed by evil men. He 
 controls them with bloody discipline; but in 
 spite of him their wrath overflows like a river. 
 An emperor, the president of a republic, 
 mayors of cities and many others have been 
 slain by radical members who rebel against the 
 
 light." 
 
 His slender body leaned toward me and 
 his lips whispered close to my ear: 
 
 "Now, they have made a plot to sink all 
 the navies. They will put a man upon every 
 cruiser and battleship in the seven seas. He 
 will watch his chance and fire her magazine. 
 Oh, they do not fear to die those men ! 
 They think it a grand cause a death full 
 of glory. I fear I know that my master, 
 Condon, is yielding. He hopes to rule the 
 world; he dreams of a universal empire. 
 Reckless adventurers, half-mad fanatics, offer 
 their lives to him every day, and he is putting 
 them on the rolls. They are his standing 
 army and are ready to move when he gives 
 the order. But he has paused at the brink 
 of the precipice. He is deciding between 
 peace and war. We must not let him fall." 
 
 I was appalled by what he had told me and 
 sat dumb for half a moment. What was 
 
50 THE MASTER 
 
 this slender shoemaker going to do about it, 
 and how had he got his knowledge ? 
 
 ;< What are you going to do ?" I asked. 
 
 ** I am going to turn him back," he answered 
 calmly. 
 
 He went to a little writing table and picked 
 up a pen and wrote hastily, as I waited. He 
 took something from his desk and folded it 
 with the sheets of paper, now covered with 
 script, inclosed all in a large envelope and 
 sealed it carefully. 
 
 "There," he whispered, as he put it in my 
 hands. "If I should die open this and read 
 what I have written and you will know what 
 to do." 
 
 I lifted my hand, for I thought that I had 
 heard some one stealthily trying the outer 
 door. We went out into the little shop and 
 stood listening. We heard a creak on the 
 stairs and then the low tap of a cane on the 
 pavement. We opened the door in time to 
 see Rog Rone hurrying out of Kerrigan Place. 
 Day had dawned although it was still a bit 
 gloomy. 
 
 "Beware of the wolves!" said Lovel with a 
 significant look at me. " He has turned south. 
 I will let you out of the rear door and you may 
 go the other way." 
 
THE MASTER 51 
 
 I thought no more of Rone, knowing too 
 little of him then to understand the meaning 
 of his appearance in Kerrigan Place, but as I 
 left Lovel I wondered how he had come to 
 know me so well and why he had chosen me 
 to help him, and the envelope filled with 
 mystery and suggesting deadly peril lay like 
 a lump of lead in my pocket. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 TWO weeks had passed since my talk with 
 the shoemaker. Meanwhile my article 
 about Condon and the great book of which I 
 declared him to be the author had made no 
 end of talk and brought me special praise 
 from my editor. Of course I had read the 
 book and in feeling it had made me what I 
 had not been before one of the innumerable 
 family of men. 
 
 It was a plea for peace on earth and its 
 tone was that of a solemn prayer. It gathered 
 the bones of all who had died in battle and 
 flung them together into a mountain that 
 towered so high that none could see its sum 
 mit; it gathered the treasure wasted in war 
 and heaped it into another far greater than 
 the first. Then it made me to see a mountain 
 vaster than all others and that was the moun- 
 li in of good which might have been accom 
 plished with this wicked waste of blood and 
 treasure supposing that the slain had gone 
 forth to labour with the treasure for their pay. 
 It made me to see the river of human tears 
 
 5* 
 
THE MASTER 53 
 
 that rose among these barren peaks and un 
 covered the truth that they had grown out 
 of the vanity and conceit and vengefulness of 
 a mere handful of men. It had revealed to 
 me the monstrous inconsistency of war between 
 Christian nations. 
 
 Two or three times I had been to the shop 
 of the shoemaker and found it locked. Once 
 only I had seen him again at the Lanthorne 
 and, while his face had worn a troubled look, 
 he had said nothing of Condon or the chain. 
 
 Cap n Rone had made a cruise and returned 
 to the city and might have been found any 
 evening with his bottle of gin at the Silver Mug. 
 I had promised to bring him to our school the 
 next Saturday. It was to be a formal feast 
 with three guests of honour: Horton, the mill 
 ionaire, Shadpole, the novelist, and Berriman 
 the renowned Berriman editor of the 
 Age. This editor scanned all the horizons 
 to discern the coming of great men. We had 
 tried to help him in his search for high gifts 
 of insight and expression. We had searched 
 ourselves and discovered tales and poems and 
 straightway sent them to his desk. He had 
 declined them all with thanks, however, and 
 how swiftly mine had come back! like 
 homing pigeons to roost unseen in the full and 
 
54 THE MASTER 
 
 gloomy loft of my bureau-drawer. This din 
 ner would be the first thing he had ever 
 accepted from us; it was at least encouraging 
 as a sign of his confidence in the club. It 
 gave us a chance to convince him of our 
 talent and some of us trembled with hopeful 
 Anticipation. Darklight and Higgins were 
 to read tales. 
 
 In discussing the arrangements I objected 
 to dress suits, for it seemed unlikely that 
 Cap n Rog could be induced to wear one even 
 if he had it. But the others rightly main 
 tained that his bearing would be all the more 
 impressive in formal dress. 
 
 So with extreme difficulty I had coaxed the 
 Cap n into an old suit of mine which did very 
 well for him, and with a beaver hat, which he 
 had bought at an auction for ninety cents 
 and which he called his "topm st," he was 
 on his way to Kerrigan Place in my company. 
 He felt the grandeur of my broadcloth and 
 white linen and had refused to wear his over 
 coat, on the ground that he would look better 
 without it. He cnn-inl his sny more grace 
 fully and a large cigar tilting upward from 
 the left corner of his mouth, and he lifted his 
 cane w r ith a lightsome flourish, now and then, 
 as we proceeded. Often he looked down 
 
THE MASTER 55 
 
 at the cloth and once greeted himself with a 
 merry little "ho, ho" a something between 
 laughter and congratulation as if he had 
 quite forgotten me. 
 
 "What is it?" I asked. 
 
 "I m on Jack s cross-tree, Cappy," he 
 said with a swift wink of the eye. "Gran 
 slops an a topm st an a load in my hold, an 
 wonderful good feelinks in the cabin." 
 
 He paused to speak "a lady" who kept an 
 apple-stand, with that whistled greeting of 
 his, and to try to catch her eye and went on. 
 
 "There s some as I used t know in this ere 
 port, friendy, an I d kind o like t cross their 
 bows, I would." 
 
 For half a moment he walked on in silence 
 with a grander swing than ever, if possible. 
 
 "Suppose you did?" I asked. 
 
 He answered w r ith a little wave of his hand 
 that he would bid them go to a place which 
 would have been the last, I am sure, they 
 would have chosen for their comfort. 
 
 "All but one," he amended after a moment s 
 thought. "If she was here I d just like to 
 cut a curly-cue round her, so I would, an 
 show her that I can be a fine gent." , - 
 
 We had come to a sloppy corner where 
 brick walls were being laid and there were 
 
56 THE MASTER 
 
 planks and mortar-beds at the crossing. The 
 Cap n, who was walking just ahead of me, 
 stopped short. 
 
 "Belay, sonny," he said sharply to a man 
 just ahead. 
 
 I saw that the stranger, in stepping on a 
 plank, had flung little sprays of mortar up the 
 port side of the Cap n, who now faced him 
 angrily. 
 
 "Ye ain t fit t walk with no decent-dressed 
 gent so ye ain t," the Cap n shouted with 
 a savage wink of one eye. He flourished 
 his cane and added: "You ve sailed abreast 
 o me fer ten minutes an I s pect ye wanted a 
 chanct t gum me dod ram yer pictur 
 an ye done it." 
 
 The stranger muttered an apology and 
 hurried along. The Cap n continued to wave 
 his cane and denounce the manners and the 
 "humly face" of the offender, and begged him 
 to return and complete the "gumming" which 
 he had so well begun. The man paused for a 
 moment only and hurried out of hearing. 
 
 "It doesn t matter," I said in an effort to 
 calm the Cap n. "We must hurry." 
 
 But our troubles had just begun, for my 
 companion had no sooner set his foot on the 
 plank than it gave a hiss and up came a 
 
THE MASTER 57 
 
 sprinkle of sfime that reached the lapels of 
 his coat. He looked at himself and then at 
 the wet plank. 
 
 " Oh, it s you as is layink f er the Cap n, is it ? " 
 he inquired. " Very well, very well, I say the 
 Cap n is right here," and his feet came down 
 sharply on the plank which retaliated with 
 missiles of mud and mortar that even reached 
 his "topm st." 
 
 "Hell s bells!" he exclaimed as he began 
 baiting the piece of wood. "You can t 
 throw gum scarcely any whatever at all. 
 Try again." 
 
 So the fight began and as it proceeded the 
 plank made the most of its opportunities. 
 The Cap n continued jumping as he addressed 
 his enemy with the devil s joy in his counte 
 nance. He would stop, now and then, for 
 breath and a brief look at himself and resume 
 his jumping with renewed energy. I believe he 
 would have turned upon me if I had inter 
 fered and so I let him alone. 
 
 "If I m to be gummed I want to be gum 
 med perfict," he advised the plank between 
 jumps. "No half-way work fer the Cap n 
 I say. Go on. Ye can t scare nobody ner 
 hurt their feelinks any. Nobody cares what 
 ye do. Try ag in. You don t mount to 
 
58 THE MASTER 
 
 nothink at all in the least. Hell s bells! 
 You re bout as poor a guminer as I ever 
 
 seen." 
 
 Meanwhile the Cap n was getting the worst 
 of it. He was now well covered with slime 
 and a sight to behold, with nobody to behold 
 him, as luck would have it, but myself, for the 
 street was then quite deserted. His "top- 
 m st" hung over one ear, his face had become 
 red, grimy and damp with perspiration. In 
 half a moment he had seized the plank in his 
 great, powerful hands and raised it to his 
 shoulder. 
 
 "I ll show ye that ye don t mount t much, 
 my fairy," he said as he balanced the twelve 
 feet of damp timber and began to limp along 
 with it. " You re bout as poor a specimint of 
 a plank as I ever seen. Come an take a walk. 
 If ye can t throw gum no better n what ye 
 have, it s time ye got out o the way an give 
 some other plank a chanct." 
 
 I dared not say a word, but walked beside 
 him in silence, while he continued to address 
 the plank. Of course, the latter only answered 
 with its weight and silence, and they were 
 not without some effect. The Cap n grew 
 weary soon and leaned it against the side of 
 a building and sat down by it. 
 
THE MASTER 59 
 
 "Wait here," I suggested, "while I get a 
 cab and send you back to the inn." 
 
 "Don t mind me, my pippin," he said with 
 a stern wink. You stan clear an go on 
 bout yer business. I m hung up in the wind 
 till this ere argyment is all over. I won t 
 knuckle down fer no plank an ye needn t 
 spect it." 
 
 I knew it was a problem which he must 
 figure out for himself and that my presence 
 would only increase his humiliation and delay 
 the end. I stood looking at the poor man 
 while he turned to the inanimate piece of 
 timber and went on with his argument. 
 
 "The Cap n is right here," he said, crowd 
 ing against the plank, " an he s goink t stay 
 till this ere row is over an it s all settled an 
 p inted out whether you re better than I be." 
 
 The silence of the plank was at once con 
 vincing and impressive, and I hurried on, 
 having no further time to lose, for the hour 
 of the dinner had already passed. 
 
 Our room at the Lanthorne was full of 
 light and good company. The dinner-party 
 had sat down at the table and a fire crackled 
 on the open hearth. 
 
 "Where is our friend, the Cap n?" Colonel 
 Christmas inquired. 
 
60 THE MASTER 
 
 I took my place among them and told of the 
 Cap n s unhappy and hopeless quarrel. 
 
 The plank will soon floor him," said 
 Pipps. 
 
 "There s a study for a novelist," said 
 Colonel Christmas. "We need him in our 
 zoological garden. He must be a rare and 
 wonderful beast." 
 
 "And very human, too," said the great 
 editor. "It s only a step from man to beast, 
 ;is the novelist should remember." 
 
 "And perhaps only a step from man to 
 angel," said Ben Lovel. " Most of us are 
 about half-way up the ladder." 
 
 "And we can fall faster than we can climb - 
 that s another point for the novelist," said 
 Mr. Berriman. " We can slip from any round 
 ;md make the w r hole descent in a second." 
 
 I sat by the side of Mr. Horton and ,-^ked, 
 presently, for his brother, while the others 
 went mi with their talk. 
 
 "Gone," said he; "gone as strangely as he 
 came. Left the day before yesterday, just 
 as he left us twenty years ago. Went to his 
 room at night and since then nothing has }>een 
 TII of him. Singular sort of man and 
 always was. Told me that he d been out of 
 the world, but wouldn t tell me where. In 
 
THE MASTER 61 
 
 my opinion he s a little out of his mind. 
 Didn t have much to say; glad to see me, and 
 all that. Glad to see my family, but rather 
 restless and discontented. Acted like a man 
 in a dream. Did our best, but couldn t make 
 him feel at home, and away he went. I 
 found Mr. Lovel yesterday and we had a talk. 
 You remember that he knew my brother and 
 told us that he was coming the other night. 
 That s rather strange isn t it?" 
 
 "Rather," I agreed. 
 
 While \ve talked our friends were telling 
 stories suggested by the case of Rone. 
 
 "Lovel interests me," said the millionaire 
 confidentially; "there s more to him than 
 any of you suspect. He s a pleasant sort of 
 mystery. I don t know what to make of the 
 boy. I tried to pump him but he gently 
 turned me around and I quit." 
 
 "He s a wonderful man," I said. "We 
 love him but we do not pretend to understand 
 him." 
 
 "I want to know him better and have asked 
 him to come up to my house. I want to sit 
 down with him for an evening and see if I can 
 make him out." 
 
 So went my talk with the great man and 
 nothing more was said of any bearing on 
 
62 THE MASTER 
 
 events to come. He seemed to like me, and 
 by and by, Colonel Christmas rapped for order 
 and introduced my companion. 
 
 "I can remember when I was younger and 
 poorer than any of you," the millionaire began 
 amid applause and exclamations regarding 
 the length of his memory. "I landed in this 
 city years ago with eighty cents and a great 
 hope. Every day I looked for a job and slept 
 on a park bench at night. There were lots 
 of men out of work, those days. It was rather 
 cold and three of us would snug up together 
 on the same bench and lie against each other 
 and cover ourselves with newspapers the best 
 we could. When the sun rose we would go to 
 the fountain and bathe our hands and faces. I 
 had a piece of a looking-glass, about two inches 
 square, and another fellow had a small comb 
 and we would pass them around and slick up 
 and brush each other with a newspaper frayed 
 like a whisk-broom. Then three cents fora 
 cup of coffee and a piece of bread and away NS r 
 went up Broadway to seek our fortunes. 
 
 You see, we were friendless, but respect 
 able and fairly well dressed. I took the first 
 thing that was offered and became "squeezer" 
 in a great bar-room at fifty cents a day and 
 my board. Had to squeeze lemons and strain 
 
THE MASTER 63 
 
 and bottle the juice. By and by I got a place 
 in a bank and learned the business, and went 
 West, and things came my way. Good luck 
 has made me a millionaire and bad luck has 
 made me a human being." 
 
 There was half a moment of silence. Then 
 said Colonel Christmas: 
 
 " There has been a change in the gang 
 lately a change of character and purpose. 
 The first fruit of that change I will now present 
 to you in a tale by Mr. Darknight." 
 
 The young man rose and held his manu 
 script in trembling hands and read his sketch, 
 an indispensable part of our record with 
 threads reaching into my mystery as I 
 came to know by and by. Here it is 
 just as I copied it from the minutes of the 
 school : 
 
 THE STORY OF A PASSION 
 
 Bibbs s was a gloomy little heaven up 
 one flight, and Bibbs a bald and cranky 
 little god of violins, with whiskers half 
 as long as himself and white as snow. 
 His windows overlooked the Bowery, and 
 their dusty panes hastened the twilight 
 and delayed the dawn, robbing the day 
 of an hour at each end. The elevated 
 trains went rushing past them, but some 
 how there was silence in the little shop; 
 
64 THE MASTER 
 
 or was it but the sign of silence that one 
 saw on every side? --the hushed string, 
 the whisper-haunted galleries of pine and 
 maple, the uncommunicative Bibbs. 
 
 Once it had been a busy place, but the 
 centre of wealth and fashion had rctn -::ted 
 from it year by year and now it was a 
 mere nursery of violins. And some that 
 lay upon its counter forty years ago were 
 there to-day, and time had poured its 
 floods of light upon them and dipped 
 them in the silence and the gloom of 
 night, and filtered through their fibres 
 strains of song and sound until they eame 
 to years of understanding like to those of 
 men, and had a voice for human thought. 
 Men came to buy them, often, but, 
 late years, had found it hard to deal with 
 Bibbs. Raw-toned, young violins he 
 sometimes sold, and cheaply, but not t In- 
 old ones that had been his hope and 
 company for years- not for all the 
 wealth in Gotham. His love of tin -m 
 was constant and his price beyond all 
 reach or reason. The salt* of the Maggim 
 had been a sorry bargain, though it 
 brought him twice its value. He had not 
 expected that the man would buy it at a 
 price so high. But the money was paid 
 and the Maggini l>ecame the darling of 
 another owner, who made off with it, 
 while Bib! s stood speechless and con- 
 
THE MASTER 65 
 
 fused, and then, as the good wife was 
 fond of telling, "he went a lead colour." 
 
 Now buyers came more rarely, and his 
 wife was dead, and Bibbs lived quite 
 alone. 
 
 It was early twilight in the little shop. 
 Bibbs lighted a candle, set aside his pots 
 of glue and varnish, and stood a moment 
 thrumming the solemn old Amati he had 
 just mended. Then he played a strain 
 of music on its silver string. It was the 
 "Song of Faith" from "Elijah." A 
 deep amen went booming under the red 
 dome of the bass viol that lay in a corner, 
 and a low wail of sympathy swept 
 through the cases on the counter and along 
 the walls the voice of those condemned 
 to silence in this little shop. 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Bibbs tenderly; "I 
 say rest in Time, for Time is the Lord, 
 and there s time enough to make all 
 things perfect, even men. You are like 
 a soul. When you were only seventy 
 years old, I suppose the devil had his 
 home in you, as he has in me. Goodness 
 is but harmony, and you might be better, 
 you red-bellied son of a whittler!" 
 
 As had been his custom by day for 
 years, Bibbs carefully inspected the join 
 ings of the Stradivarius. Then he held 
 his ear against it, and the strings broke 
 into song at the touch of his beard. 
 
66 THE MASTER 
 
 "That voice of yours!" he said. "I 
 wonder what it will be a thousand years 
 from now. Your old body will turn to 
 splinters and to dust some time. Wood 
 can t last forever any more than flesh 
 and blood. When your voice is near 
 perfection you will not be strong enough 
 to stand the strain of the strings, and then 
 - well, you re a good deal like a man 
 anyhow. 
 
 To Bibbs heaven was the destination 
 of all good violins and hell was, in his 
 opinion, the resort of fiddlers, and their 
 playing the doom of the damned. 
 
 Bibbs put the Strad in its case and 
 turned the key. He stood a moment 
 silently filling his pipe- A melancholy 
 cello lying on the floor, let go a string, 
 humming like a lovesick maiden. 
 
 Bibbs was about to make all fast and 
 retire to his little room, behind the shop, 
 when suddenly the door opened, clanging 
 the bell that hung above it. An old man, 
 with shaven, wrinkled face and long 
 \vliite hair, stood before liiin. 
 
 "Any old violins?" said he, advancing 
 into the shop. 
 
 "None to sell," said Bibbs curtly. 
 
 " I do not wish to buy," said the old 
 man, "but I am a connoisseur and I 
 should like to see them." 
 
 Now there were men to whom Bibbs 
 
THE MASTER 67 
 
 gave some toleration and even a degree 
 of confidence men who had grown 
 old with violins and loved them as he did. 
 
 "Sit down," said he, pointing to a chair. 
 "I ve an Amati, a Guarnerius and a 
 Strad here. They re not mine; I only 
 take care of them. Play?" 
 
 "Once; but you see nay fingers have 
 grown stiff - - these wrinkles are like 
 strings that bind them." 
 
 Bibbs took the Strad from its case and 
 thrummed it, and as he did so the stranger 
 rose and staggered toward him. "Let 
 me take it," said he, and his lips quivered 
 as he spoke. 
 
 "Stand back, you fool," said Bibbs; 
 "you cannot buy this instrument. It is 
 not for sale, I tell you." 
 
 "I shall not try to buy it," said the 
 stranger. "You can trust it in my 
 hands a moment. Let me see it; I 
 think I know the tone." 
 
 Bibbs hesitated, surveying his caller 
 with suspicious eyes. Then he closed 
 the door and bolted it. 
 
 "Be careful," he said; "don t drop it." 
 And with anxious looks he put it in the 
 stranger s hands. 
 
 As the old man took the instrument he 
 uttered but a single word, and that was, 
 "Sweetheart." Then he kissed its back 
 and sank upon his chair, sobbing softly. 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 He held the Strad u< T<S his knee, and 
 every tear that fell upon its slender roof 
 sounded like a fairy drum-heat; and 
 when his sobbing ceased a cry rang faintlv 
 in its darkened hall; and the great bass 
 viol and all the daughters of nm>ic lying 
 low in the little shop moaned in >\ mpathv 
 as if they knew and felt and understood. 
 
 " Pardon me," said the > tranter. "I 
 seem to hear the voice of one long dead 
 and dear to me. Thirty years ago it \\ Bfl 
 mine. I fell ill and pledged it for a loan. 
 That was in London. I was a long time 
 between life and death, and when I came 
 to get the Slrad they had sold it for tin- 
 debt. Listen: I will show you what a 
 voice it has." 
 
 He tuned the strings and played, and 
 as he played his fettered fingers were 
 made free. His quick bow, like a tri 
 dent, shook the sea twixt heaven and 
 earth --the sea of silence and waves 
 of music started for its further strand. 
 Far into the night these old men >at 
 together, and the player never rested. 
 
 Now it so befell there was a tenant in 
 the Strad who had never heard its 
 thunders. Suddenly a black spider 
 rushed out of the dark cavern of the 
 violin, and scurrying down the finger 
 board, was crushed beneath the strings. 
 The player stopped. 
 
THE MASTER 69 
 
 It s a bad sign," said Bibbs. "Sorry 
 you came here. You cannot buy the 
 Strad and now there s no peace for you." 
 
 "Unless you let me live here and help 
 you tend the shop," the stranger said. 
 "I have money and we both love music, 
 and you are alone." 
 
 "Yes," said Bibbs, "but if he comes - 
 the owner and takes it from us?" 
 
 "But he may not come for years," 
 the stranger said; "and let s not borrow 
 trouble." 
 
 And so Bibbs made him welcome, and 
 the old men lived together happily but 
 ever fearful. Day by day they played 
 upon the Strad and when the door-bell 
 rang there was a moment s panic in the 
 shop, and men who came were roundly 
 cursed by Bibbs and came no more. 
 
 It was morning at Bibbs s. Its old 
 master came slowly out of his silent room, 
 the Strad under his arm. He laid the 
 violin upon its shelf and lifted the window- 
 shades. The sun lit up his pale and 
 haggard face. Suddenly the bell above 
 the door clanged furiously and a man 
 stepped in. 
 
 "Hello, Bibbs! Give me the Stradi- 
 varius," said he. 
 
 Bibbs lifted the violin with trembling 
 hands. 
 
 "See that dark little cavern? "said the 
 
70 THE MASTER 
 
 old man, peering into a sound hole. "I 
 tell you it is a oit of the undiscovered 
 country. Songs of some other world 
 come out of it. To-day there s a new 
 voice in the choir." 
 
 He thrummed a moment. 
 
 "Bibbs, what do you mean?" said the 
 owner. 
 
 "He is dead --the man that loved 
 the Strad is dead," said Bibbs. Take 
 it, sir, and be gone -- be gone, I tell you." 
 
 And its owner took it, and as he went 
 away he laughed and muttered, saying, 
 "Bibbs is crazy." 
 
 The little tale received its compliment of 
 silence. 
 
 I observed that Lovel had been deeply 
 interested. 
 
 "It is a true tale," Horton remarked 
 presently; "I know the shopkeeper and I 
 am the owner who called for the Strad. I 
 have owned it for twenty yen?-." 
 Could I see it?" Lovel asked. 
 
 1 Yes ; come to my house to-morrow eve 
 ning at 8.30 and you shall see it," said the 
 millionaire. 
 
 "It will be a great favour," Lovel answered. 
 
 There was a moment of silence broken by 
 Shadpole who said: "Romance seems to 
 
THE MASTER 71 
 
 thrive in this atmosphere. I wonder if this 
 is the literary club referred to in * Brothers. 
 Have any of you read the book ?" 
 
 "I have," said Berriman. "It s a wonder 
 ful book. In England they say every one is 
 talking about it. I saw by a cable message 
 this morning that it was being translated into 
 many tongues." 
 
 "They say that Condon wrote it John 
 Condon the so-called Napoleon of Dis 
 content," said Shadpole. 
 
 "I think that is true," said Berriman; "I 
 understand, at least, that the royalties are to 
 be paid to him and he doesn t deny the 
 authorship." 
 
 "I know he s very able," said the novelist, 
 "but who thought of such a heart in him? 
 It s inspiring." 
 
 "And what a breadth of view!" said 
 Berriman. 
 
 The Colonel rose and the dinner had come 
 to its end. Lovel and I left the Lanthorne 
 while the others were standing in the tap-room. 
 
 "Let s walk awhile," said he, and we left 
 Kerrigan Place and strolled aimlessly up town. 
 We soon passed the plank which w r as leaning 
 where I had seen it last but the Cap n had 
 gone. We walked a bit farther and while 
 
72 THE MASTER 
 
 I had much to say and great hope of getting 
 more light on the mystery of Horton s brother, 
 I urged him to go home, noting his wearied 
 manner; and soon we parted for the night. 
 
 Next morning I was awakened by a rap at 
 my door. When I opened it, Lovel stood in 
 the hallway. 
 
 "Come in," I said. 
 
 He picked up my shoes, which lay outside 
 the door, and brought them with him. He 
 turned them in his hands and pointed to a 
 little paster not an inch square in the hollow 
 of one sole. It was a miniature target, its 
 bull s eye and rings printed in red on white 
 paper. 
 
 k \Yhat is it?" I asked. 
 
 *The man Rone is a spy and a marker," 
 he whispered as he turned to inc. "It is the 
 war sign of the Toilers." 
 
 "Their war sign!" I exclaimed. 
 
 Yes; a device by which the supposed 
 enemies of the order may be known at a glance. 
 Some wear it for days not knowing (hat they 
 are marked." 
 
 I wondered how that could be but more 
 pressing queries were in my mind. 
 
 "Does it mean that one is marked for 
 removal ?" I a>k< d. 
 
THE MASTER 73 
 
 "In most cases, no," he answered. "It 
 is a warning and they will watch him as the 
 hawk watches its prey. He might fall from 
 a high bridge or drop from the end of a pier, 
 or be smothered in his room by gas. Very 
 often it is made to appear that he has died by 
 his own hand. They may kill him in a 
 quarrel or they may let him alone. His fate 
 will hang on the trouble and the chance he 
 gives them. Change your boarding-place 
 but do not touch the mark until we meet 
 again. Now see if you have the sealed letter 
 that I gave you." 
 
 I had pushed it under the lining of my 
 trunk and carefully tacked the slit. I felt 
 secure in that matter and so assured him. 
 
 "Look," he insisted. 
 
 I unlocked the trunk and threw up its lid. 
 There were the tacks that held the lining and 
 beneath I could feel the envelope. I pointed 
 with my finger and looked up at him. 
 
 "Draw the tacks and make sure, my 
 master," he whispered. 
 
 I did so and out came the envelope with 
 its seal broken and a few sheets of blank paper 
 inside. Lovel turned chalky white and sank 
 into a chair. 
 
 "I met the knave outside and saw it all in 
 
74 THE MASTER 
 
 his face," he whispered presently. "His 
 staying with the plank was a trick, my master 
 - a trick to get you to leave him. He saw 
 you anchored in Kerrigan I Mace and came back 
 here and searched your room at his leisure. 
 It is probable that he was looking through 
 the window that night and saw you put the 
 envelope in your pocket/ 
 
 44 We re both in danger?" I suggested. 
 
 "I shall appeal to Condon," he whispered. 
 "Be wise as a serpent, and be careful how 
 you go out alone at night." 
 
 He picked up his hat and left me, with a 
 worried look. 
 
 I examined the symbol and thought how 
 cleverly Rone had placed it, for few men ever 
 see the bottoms of their shoes. Yet one s 
 M>les show their full length to all who walk 
 behind them. 
 
 I packed my things, paid my bill and 
 started in quest of a new boarding-place. 
 Rog Rone met me on the sidewalk. 
 
 "What s ahead, Cappy?" he inquired as 
 he wrung my hand. 
 
 "Going to leave the Mug," I answered. 
 
 "I ll miss ye, Cappy," said he. "Yer 
 dear father couldn t miss ye no more an 
 that s the God s truth. I ll tind ye, no matter 
 
THE MASTER 75 
 
 how fur ye go so I will. You re a wonder 
 ful cute child an I ve took a fancy to ye." 
 
 The old wretch brushed a tear from his 
 eye, and I said that I would see him soon, 
 which I knew to be likely, and hurried away. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 It is idle to think that by meant of irorrfj any real 
 communication can ever pats from one man to another. 
 The lips or the tongue may represent the oul even as 
 a cipher or a number may represent a piriur,- // 
 Memlincq ; but jrovi the moment that we have some 
 thing to say to each other we are cnrnj>rlled to hold our 
 peace; and if at such times we do not listen to the 
 urgent commands of silence, innudiMe though they be, 
 we shall hat* suffered an eternal loss that all the treas 
 ures of human wisdom cannot make goaf, for \re shall 
 ha r lei i<lip the opportunity of listening to another soul. 
 
 \\\> i \ i.i i\< K 
 
 I SAW nothing of Rone or Level for ;i week. 
 I had called once at the office of Israel 
 Horton to get his adviee in a cert a in matter 
 and while there had shown him my letters 
 of commendation. They were from friends 
 of my father in Kn^land, one of whom was 
 Ihe rnmier himself. 
 
 Within a day or two i called a second time 
 to see Ihe millionaire at the request of my 
 editor \\lio wished me to write the story of 
 Horton \s life. 
 
 "Can t talk with yon now. hoy/ s.-iid the 
 railroad kin<j as he came out of his private 
 room. "Come to dinner with me to-morrow 
 
 76 
 
THE MASTER 77 
 
 at seven and I ll show you my note-books and 
 the capitol of my little kingdom. Condon 
 will be there." 
 
 So I went to his home a great, square 
 house of white marble, planned for large 
 hospitality and filled with costly treasures. 
 The best of them was his daughter Ruth, who 
 was my companion at dinner. 
 
 Mr. Horton was a man of wit and a remark 
 able memory. He had read the best books 
 and could give you lines for every cue. He 
 was a kindly man, and I learned to love him 
 in spite of traits that were sharper than a 
 serpent s tooth. Sometimes he had a way of 
 using one for a pedestal. 
 
 "Holm," he would say, suddenly, as 
 all eyes were turned upon me, "what was it 
 that Shakespeare wrote about the sea?" 
 
 Then a crushing silence while I groped in 
 my memory and humbly acknowledged my 
 ignorance. Suddenly the millionaire would 
 exclaim : 
 
 "O, I have it!" and glibly speak -the lines 
 for which he had thus created an opportunity. 
 
 Condon sat beside Mr. Horton. 
 
 "I haven t had time to tell you of half the 
 profit and delight your book has given me," 
 said the latter to his chief guest as soon as a 
 
78 THE MASTER 
 
 certain bishop had pronounced the blessing. 
 " Every one is reading and re-reading the 
 book." 
 
 "He s very kind --this Mr. Everyone," 
 Condon rejoined. "He sends me hundreds 
 of letters a day about it and I m rather busy 
 with them. I intended to keep out of sight 
 in the matter." 
 
 "It s lucky you couldn t," said the other. 
 "Think what it s done for you and your cause. 
 We know what to expect from you now, and 
 we shall hold you up to your preaching. If 
 you are true to your principles you will have 
 the confidence of the world and more money 
 than you ever dreamed of. You will have 
 an empire with no boundaries." 
 
 "You offer great promotion," said the 
 Napoleon of Discontent with a smile. 
 
 "And remember it s worth while/ said 
 the millionaire. 
 
 "But I could be happy with far less." 
 
 In the light of all I knew, here was an odd 
 bit of comedy. It reversed that third tempta 
 tion of the devil when he offered all the king 
 doms of the world to the Son of God. It 
 seemed as if all the kingdoms were now being 
 offered as the prize of righteousness. As to 
 the book itself, I had no doubt that Condon 
 
THE MASTER 79 
 
 had written it years before and had since 
 fallen from its lofty plane. If not, how could 
 he now be on the brink of declaring a bloody 
 war himself, as I knew. Soon the topic 
 changed. 
 
 "We had a great evening with your friend 
 Lovel," Horton said to me. 
 
 "Did you show him the violin?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes; and he showed me how to play on 
 a Strad. He is a master." 
 
 "That is new to me," I said. 
 
 "He captured us; we sat and listened till 
 midnight. He won the ladies; they thought 
 him very handsome." 
 
 "His playing is wonderful, but his face 
 more so," said Ruth Horton. "What a pity 
 such a man is a shoemaker!" 
 
 "I offered to put him in better business, 
 but it didn t interest him," said her father. 
 "He s perfectly contented." 
 
 "I wish he w r ere anything but a shoemaker," 
 the girl added. 
 
 We had risen from the table when Mr. 
 Horton said to me: 
 
 Young man, I m sorry the madame isn t 
 here. She knows the whole story. I have 
 some business with Mr. Condon up in my 
 room. You go into the library and talk with 
 
80 THE MASTER 
 
 Ruth. She knows a lot about me and can 
 show you the note-books. Give my 1 
 wishes to Lo\el; I ;tm much in debt to him. 
 It was he who presented me to Condon and 
 induced me to re;id his book." 
 
 Mr. Morion \\ciil above >iairs and I to the 
 library \\ith the young lady and her grand 
 father and the bishop and his wife. The 
 others fell to talking about Condon s book, 
 while the young lady and I sat down together. 
 Then came the best hour of my life I can- 
 not just tell you why for there was little in 
 our talk to make it so. She was a t ull-si /ed, 
 wholesome, fun-loving girl and I did not 
 think her beautiful, but somehow she filled 
 my eye. Secretly, quietly, I took possession 
 of her, then and there, as by some indisputable 
 right, and resolved to make her my wife. Of 
 course, I knew there were difficulties to 
 overcome, but they gave me no uneasiness. 
 hhe showed me the note-books, and soon I 
 asked her about her uncle Gabriel whom 1 had 
 
 seen twice. She thought that he had lived as 
 a hermit, somewhere, and had gone back !< 
 his lonely life. She told of his shyness and 
 reticence and said that talk wearied him. 
 
 "One even in :: afl Wt sat here together," 
 she went on, "he told me thai he cared little 
 
THE MASTER 81 
 
 for words. He said they were used mostly 
 to conceal thought and not to express it. He 
 startled me by saying that he went beneath 
 the words that people said to him and felt 
 their thoughts and I think it made him 
 unhappy. I am trying it myself." 
 
 "Then I shall be very careful," I remarked. 
 
 She gave me a knowing smile and showed 
 me a beautifully modelled hand, as she felt 
 her dark hair, and went on: 
 
 "I think we all have more insight than we 
 know. We meet people and we ask, How 
 do you do? and all that and scarcely hear 
 what they say but, somehow, we begin to 
 feel for their thoughts and find them, whatever 
 their words may be." 
 
 "It is true," I said, "and this also, that a 
 man can never deceive any one but himself 
 for more than a brief time." 
 
 She hummed a line from an old love song 
 as she turned the leaves of a note-book. 
 
 "That s strange," I said; "my mind has 
 been singing that song ever since we left the 
 table." 
 
 You see, minds have the power to com 
 municate with each other in spite of us," she 
 said, as her brown eyes looked into mine. 
 "You might take these notes with you; he 
 
S2 THE MASTER 
 
 dictated them to me. There s only one or 
 two things I could add to them. He s the 
 best father in the world and I recommend 
 him to you for a friend." 
 
 When I rose to go there was that in the 
 clasp of our hands and the look of our faces 
 that seemed to speak for us, and I was sure 
 that we understood each other. 
 
 "One thing more," she added with a smile, 
 "please remember me to Mr. Lovel." 
 
 "I shall do so," I answered with as good 
 tjnire as would go with my disappointment, 
 for, suddenly, I had seen the truth in her eyes 
 - she was fond of the little shoemaker. But 
 I would not let myself doubt that I should 
 win her. 
 
 I went straight to the shop in Kerrigan 
 Place and found Lovel at work there. 
 
 "I have been dining at Horton s," I said. 
 
 "Did you see his daughter.-" 
 
 "Yes, and I bring her best wishes." 
 
 "She s led me out of my way," he said. 
 "Lately I ve done little but think of her." 
 
 "Lovel!" I exclaimed with surprise, "what 
 are we to do? I m in love with her myself." 
 
 "She will not care for me!" he exclaimed. 
 
 "I am sure that she does care for you," 
 I said. 
 
THE MASTER 83 
 
 He put down the shoe which he had been 
 mending and looked up at me. His cheeks 
 reddened; for a second his eyes were full of 
 wonder and delight. Then he turned very 
 thoughtful. 
 
 "If she does it cannot last," he answered. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "I am a toiler; I work for my bread." 
 
 "She knows that." 
 
 "But not the difficulties that lie between 
 us. You will not find me a formidable 
 rival." 
 
 Again he bent over his task. 
 
 "Couldn t you find better work than this ?" 
 I asked; "something easier and more 
 profitable?" 
 
 He shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 "They tell me that you are a great violinist." 
 
 " There are many greater," he answered. 
 "I love music, but the people are more in need 
 of shoes." 
 
 :< Wouldn t they pay more for the music?" 
 
 : Yes; but I have no need of their money." 
 
 "You might be able to buy many more 
 shoes than you can make." 
 
 "True; but I must walk with my brothers 
 and know what it is to be a man." 
 
 I sat for a moment looking into his face 
 
84 THE MASTER 
 
 and wondering what he meant. He seemed 
 to feel my thoughts for he added presently: 
 
 "Some time \<>u \\ill know me better." 
 
 Next day I went to the office of Mr. Horton. 
 He took me into his private room and rlosed 
 the door and \\ e sat down together. I had 
 made a plan for the .story. 
 
 "There s sonic-thing I must say In -fore I 
 go any further," I began. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "A fact in your life and mine that has 
 brought me to a point of honour." 
 
 "Out witli it, hoy." 
 
 "I will not deceive you for a momenL" i 
 said. "You have the dearest daughter in the 
 \\orld, and I am in love with her/ 
 
 lie looked at me almost sternly and then 
 his face softened to a smile. He leaned touanl 
 me and put his hand on my arm and said 
 rather tenderly: 
 
 "It s a pity, my boy! I m sorrv for \<>u." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 You Couldn t marry her. It s impossible." 
 
 "Pardon my presumption, hut I ve done 
 so many impossible things - it s a habit 
 \\ith me." 
 
 "I ve done a few myself, but then 
 limit," said the millionaire. "I like you, hoy. 
 
THE MASTER 85 
 
 but can t you see it s out of the question ? 
 The girl has been spoiled. Why, I suppose 
 it costs me ten thousand a year to dress her. 
 What would you do with a wife like that ? 
 You have to work for a living." 
 
 66 True," I said; "but I hoped that you 
 wouldn t think the less of me on that account." 
 
 44 Well, you know I ve been poor myself and 
 I ve no false pride in me. But think of it, 
 my boy, she has always carried the lamp of 
 Aladdin. She has only to wish and to have. 
 Her life is no more real than that of Jack and 
 the beanstalk. Now, honestly, do you think 
 she could live in a little flat or a small house 
 in the suburbs with one servant and a very 
 limited income ? Of course, I could stake you, 
 but you re a man of pride and you wouldn t 
 care to be a pensioner." 
 
 "No, but she may be willing to try real life 
 for a while," I said. "I think that she is 
 weary of being a fairy princess. You ought 
 to give her a chance to be a woman. Poverty 
 isn t the worst thing in the world. In fact, 
 I ve heard you recommend it highly." 
 
 "I know all that, but I m a slave, as Lovel 
 put it. Now there s her mother. She has 
 more to say than I about this sort of thing. 
 The poor woman has dreams of a grand 
 
86 THE MASTER 
 
 alliance with noble blood. I know it s all 
 nonsense and I hope she ll recover, but the 
 odds are against you, boy." 
 
 "If I m not mistaken, by good rights the 
 rirl i> mine," I said; "and I d like a chance 
 to win her if I can. One of these days I hope 
 to be rich." 
 
 He looked at me thoughtfully for half a 
 moment. 
 
 "I like you," he said with a smile; "but 
 tell me, what are your prospects ?" 
 
 "For a year I ve put all my saving in land 
 in the upper part of the city, and before long 
 I hope to sell at a handsome profit." 
 
 He leaned back in his chair and laughed. 
 
 "It s great to be young," he said with a 
 tone of kindness and a look of amusement. 
 "I want to be fair to you. I shall not say 
 that you cannot see the girl; but there 
 must be no love talk and not a word about 
 marriage until I say, go ahead. I make no 
 promises." 
 
 "And I ask for none and will do your bid 
 ding," was my answer. 
 
 Then a short talk about the story, and I 
 left him with a better hope in me than I had 
 ever known. But I soon lost faith in the 
 promise of that day, for I called time and again 
 
THE MASTER 87 
 
 at the great white house, but saw nothing 
 more of the young lady. Mrs. Horton 
 received me kindly but made me know, 
 between words, that she was aware of my 
 purpose and could give me no hope. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 IT IS odd how, once in a long while, Lite 
 makes a plot, like that of a story, and calls 
 its characters from the ends of the earth and 
 they assemble and are promptly driven to 
 their parts. When I look back on the years 
 of my young manhood they are like a tale 
 that is told. The Lanthorne was its centre 
 and every character and incident and 
 every word of those nights under the old 
 brought us nearer the climax. 
 
 As I have explained, Colonel Christmas 
 had the post of <k religious editor" on one of 
 the great newspapers. It .should l>e said that 
 the title related more to his work than his 
 .sentiments. He was genial, save when he 
 had drunk too freely. Then, having been 
 robbed of an evening, long before, while in 
 his cups, he regarded every one with suspicion. 
 As he sat at the head of the table in our 
 cozy room at the Lanthorne, every pound of 
 the two hundred and ninety-live that corn 
 ed his person seemed to feel the grcatne-, 
 ol the night. II is face gloued \\ith 
 
 88 
 
THE MASTER 89 
 
 nature. A sense of responsibility filled his 
 breast. He was not a man of proved literary 
 skill like Pipps or Darklight. Still he did 
 not conceal the fact that he had ambitions. 
 Whenever he told an anecdote of possible 
 literary value he always added the words: 
 "Copyright by H. F. Christmas." 
 
 We were beginning the tenth and greatest 
 session of The School for Novelists. Ben 
 Lovel sat beside me; I had seen him two 
 or three times at the little shop. 
 
 "They have their necks in a leash those 
 madmen," he had said to me one evening. 
 "But they will break away soon and we must 
 look out." 
 
 Meanwhile he had achieved unwelcome 
 prominence hi two ways he had saved a 
 number of children in a school fire, at the 
 peril of his own life, and been elected president 
 of the Mechanics Union. Lovel had declined 
 the place, and seemed to regard its offer as a 
 misfortune. 
 
 "I was born to be a servant and not a 
 master," he had said to me, in speaking of 
 this event. "I love obscurity. It is a part of 
 my plan. Try to stop this talk about me. 
 Some day I shall make you to know why." 
 
 I looked about me that evening and thought 
 
90 THE MASTER 
 
 how the "gang" had changed. In the be 
 ginning our dinners hud hern characterized by 
 over-drinking and high-flavoured wit and, 
 indeed, anything for a laugh. All that \vus 
 pretty much a thing of the past with us. 
 Now we were studying an art and thinking 
 decently and with some results. 
 
 Pipps hud .satirized his fellows in this 
 fashion: "It seems to me that \\e should have 
 an evening of readings from an expurgated 
 edition of Felicia Heman> !" 
 
 I asked myself how it had come about, 
 and what would be the next stage of our 
 development. 
 
 Then, right on the heels of my unspoken 
 query, came Level s suggestion: 44 I have 
 this to say to you, my master: Every stream 
 must have a source. Shall we try to make 
 a river of expression without a lake of thought 
 a lake somewhere up in the mountains of 
 truth? First, fill your lake, I should say, and 
 think not of your style. Thoughts - leagues 
 and fathoms of them, drained from the heights, 
 are needed here. Then let the rivers flow as 
 they will." 
 
 **It is true," said Darklight as he looked 
 ;n TOSS the table at us. "We waste time with 
 trifles. I ve found a lake of thought for you. 
 
THE MASTER 91 
 
 "Listen --you men who are studying life," 
 he went on, with great seriousness, to the 
 whole company, "if you will come with me, 
 to-morrow, I will show you the greatest event 
 of the century." 
 
 His lips began to tremble a bit, as they 
 always did when he was full of his subject. 
 He leaned forward and added, impressively, 
 as he rubbed his hands together : 
 
 "Absolutely the most startling and signifi 
 cant thing that has happened in a century!" 
 
 "Are you going to pay your debts?" Pipps 
 inquired with a smile. 
 
 "What do you expect miracles?" said 
 Darklight as he joined the laugh. "No, but 
 I ll show you the end of another impossibility 
 ingrate and I offer you the chance to 
 see it." 
 
 Darklight was editor of one of the big 
 Sunday newspapers, and lived in an atmos 
 phere of amazement. Three of us said that 
 we would go, and he looked straight across 
 at me with eyes solemn as a prophet s and 
 said: 
 
 "Pier No. 5; three o clock sharp. Horton 
 will be there, and one or two others." 
 
 Colonel Christmas rose and tapped his 
 coffee-cup and called the school to order. 
 
92 THE MASTER 
 
 He said that he was proud of the honour of 
 presiding at the dinners of our club. He 
 saw the footprints of high thought in every 
 face at the table (laughter and applause and 
 lies of not guilty). He saw brows shaped 
 for the accommodation of the laurel. (More 
 applause and the query: "How about our 
 necks?" and the Colonel answered that they 
 were beneath his observation.) He fondly 
 hoped that the club was making history and 
 that some of its humble efforts wen* to pass 
 into literature. He would begin the flow 
 of soul with a poem a rather remarkable 
 poem, he would venture to say from the 
 facile pen of Mr. Holm. 
 
 I had written some account of Rog Rone\ 
 adventure in battle and presented it forth 
 with -- my first contribution to the minutes 
 of the club. 
 
 A number of reporters had been invited to 
 confess their worst sins, and so that the reader 
 may be fairly warned of his company at the 
 Lanthorne sign I have copied one of them 
 from the minutes of the club. Pipps set the 
 ball going. 
 
 "I will now show you the hard spots in a ten 
 der man." said he, and proceeded to tell how he 
 had gone to witness a hanging in New Jersey. 
 
THE MASTER 93 
 
 The unfortunate man was to be hanged at three 
 o clock, and Pipps had asked all concerned 
 to make it two, so as to give him time to get 
 his account in the evening paper. The 
 sheriff had consented on one condition he 
 must get the concurrence of the doomed man. 
 Pipps presented his argument to the latter. 
 
 "You have to be hanged anyway, and the 
 sooner the better," he said. "It would be a 
 great favour to me." 
 
 "We re alike as two peas," said the mur 
 derer as he surveyed the young man. :< Will 
 you be kind enough to be hanged in my place ? 
 I ll take your suit and you take mine, and I ll 
 write the story. You ll have to be hanged 
 some time, and the sooner the better. It would 
 be a great favour to me." 
 
 The last man to be presented was the lec 
 turer in a dime museum. He was wont to 
 stand all day in a dress suit and descant in 
 rhyme on the freaks and wonders of the show. 
 He called himself a poet, and had long black 
 hair and one eye, and regarded his gift with 
 delightful gravity. He spoke with a slight 
 English accent. 
 
 "I have always enjoyed literature," he 
 began. "I once wrote a one-act version of 
 Macbeth, in which I toured England and the 
 
94 THE MASTER 
 
 provinces with my daughter. Stunning suc 
 cess ! Great applause ! Unanimous commen 
 dation from press and public! My daughter 
 is a wonderful scholar and we live in a lovely 
 flat in Sixteenth Street. When I have a 
 poem to write I sit down in my little library 
 and go into a kind of trance." (He called it 
 trulmce). "My daughter keeps away from 
 me then for, like all poets, I am apt to be cross 
 in the act of composing. By and by it comes 
 like a flash I couldn t tell ye how - - and 
 there it is a long poem or perhaps only a 
 little gem of half a dozen lines. I laugh with 
 joy, and my daughter enters and I read it to 
 her. I have written a reversible poem which 
 will do for a fat boy or a living skeleton. It 
 is as follows: 
 
 " There was a boy 
 His mamma s joy 
 
 His papa s pride and pet, 
 The more he d eat 
 Of bread and meat 
 The thinner he would get. 
 
 "Now all I have to do is to change thinner 
 to fatter and the poem is reversed. I wrote 
 it in three minutes by the watch. Of course, 
 it is a gift like playing the violin or telling a 
 fortune. 
 
THE MASTER 95 
 
 "I can make a rhyme for any word in the 
 language," the one-eyed poet went on. "I 
 am probably the only bard living who has 
 made a rhyme for orange, and another for 
 month. A man offered me ten dollars to do 
 it, and my daughter found that there was a 
 province in Wales called the Bloringe, and a 
 Hindu book of etiquette which is known as 
 a grunth. In a second I had the poem, and 
 I will now recite it for you : 
 
 " From the Indies to the Bloringe 
 
 The Grand Mogul came in a month 
 All the way he sucked an orange 
 While he gaily read a grunth. " 
 
 This exploit of the suctorious Mogul was 
 greeted with applause, as it well deserved to be. 
 
 The one-eyed poet paused and amiably 
 scanned the faces at the table and continued: 
 
 "Shakespeare said that the poet is born and 
 not made. It is true, gentlemen. Poetry is 
 a gift and I thank God for it. Poetry has 
 given me my place as the best paid introducer 
 of curiosities in the world and the only one 
 who writes a poem for every novelty. I must 
 now hurry to the last performance of our 
 world-renowned convention of curiosities. 
 Gentlemen, I thank you, one and all, for your 
 kind and generous applause. Good night." 
 
96 THE MASTER 
 
 With this, and a wave of his hand, the one- 
 eyed poet left us and hurried into the night. 
 Our pent emotions, suddenly released, quite 
 overcame u- 
 
 "It s the best exhibit of one-eyed poetry 
 that I ever saw," said Pipps. 
 
 There s nothing half so funny as the lack 
 of humour," said Darklight, and that, indeed, 
 was the lesson which came of it. 
 
 But, as for myself, I was not yet done with 
 the bard, having promised, in a moment of 
 weakness, to try to find a publisher for his 
 verse. 
 
 Colonel Christinas had become suspicious 
 and also indirect in his walk and conversation 
 when we left the inn. Keeping him upright 
 was attended by such a degree of danger and 
 difficulty that we hailed a hansom and helped 
 the Colonel into it. His broad person filled 
 the seal, and Lovel and I eronehcd by his 
 feet and directed the driver to his lodgings. 
 When we arrived there Colonel Oiristnia< 
 had gone to sleep. We tried to waken him 
 but could only produce a dangerous and 
 spasmodic movement of his arms and feet. 
 The driver tried force and persuasion, but 
 the Colonel brushed him aside and continued 
 his slumber. 
 
THE MASTER 97 
 
 "You may as well try to move a house," 
 said the driver in despair; "he s got us 
 anchored, and me engaged for a ball." 
 
 There was no help for it; we must await 
 the revival of Colonel Christmas, and that is 
 what we did. A street lamp stood near us 
 and we sat down and leaned against the post 
 while our driver, who had an engagement 
 for a ball, complained bitterly of his ill luck. 
 He held his peace, however, when I assured 
 him that he should be well paid. 
 
 It was long after midnight when a young 
 woman passed us and inquired her way. 
 She was still in sight when a policeman stopped 
 her, and so rudely that we jumped to our 
 feet and ran toward them. The policeman 
 had arrested the girl, who was now sobbing, 
 and started away with her. Lovel stopped 
 him and asked what she had done. 
 
 "You keep out of this," said the officer, 
 "or I ll take you, too." 
 
 "Please give me your number," Lovel 
 demanded. 
 
 The officer answered more rudely than 
 before, and made off with the prisoner. 
 
 You attend the Colonel," said my friend 
 as he turned to me. "As for myself, I must 
 go where they go." So saying he disappeared 
 
98 THE MASTER 
 
 in the darkness and I saw no more of him 
 until morniiiLT. 
 
 It was growing light when the Colonel 
 came to and stumMed out of the rah. He fell 
 upon the anxious driver, bearing him to the 
 ground and wounding his spirit worse than 
 his l>od\ , as- luck would have it. I could not 
 help laughing. 
 
 "Sir, rejoice not in the fall of friend or 
 enemy," said Colonel Christina-, having strug 
 gled to his feet. "This is disgraceful." 
 
 "It s awful, sir," said the driver in a tone 
 of complaint. You grabbed my cab and 
 went to sleep on me, an couldn t be woke, 
 an I engaged for a ball. It s dirty mean/* 
 
 "Poor man! Why didn t you wake me?" 
 
 "Didn t I try? an ain t I all hammered 
 to a jelly?" 
 
 "Heal your wounds and be off," said 
 Colonel Christmas severely as he gave the 
 driver a twenty-dollar bill. The latter drove 
 away and the Colonel turned to me and said: 
 
 "Sir, forgive me. I have the heart of an 
 honest man and the intellect of an ass; I am 
 as a ship without a compass. Will you 
 kindly steer me to my door.-" 
 
 That I did forthwith and started for my 
 own lodgings on Waverly Place. 
 
THE MASTER 99 
 
 Suddenly I heard the tap of a cane on the 
 pavement close behind me and turned and 
 saw Rog Rone approaching with his hurried 
 and familiar limp. The sound quickened 
 my heart and pace a little for it seemed to me 
 that the man had sprung out of the ground. 
 I had seen nothing of him since leaving the 
 Mug although more than once I had heard 
 the tap of his cane. My introduction to the 
 war sign had made me step softly. I had 
 worn a false beard and put a limp in my walk 
 when returning after hours from my task and 
 had gone to bed in the dim window-light and 
 often before falling asleep I had heard the 
 tap, tap of a cane on the pavement beneath 
 my windows. Every night too, I had heard 
 it in my dreams. Now I felt some alarm but 
 quickly put it down. 
 
 "Ho there, friendy!" said the Cap n as we 
 came under a street lamp. "Whatever s 
 this ere on yer coat sleeve?" 
 
 He put his knotty fore-finger on the back 
 of my elbow as he spoke. 
 
 "Fore God, matey its the red target - 
 sure as ye re born," he went on as he tore the 
 tiny paster from the sleeve of my coat. 
 
 What does it mean?" I asked, my nerves 
 tingling with fresh alarm. 
 
100 THE MASTER 
 
 AVhat dues it mean ? you says," he 
 began in a tone just above a whisper. " I 
 says it im -an> yer marked, pippin tagged an 
 tieketed for yer eavenly ome, boy, like a 
 lamb in a crate on his way to the butcher s 
 an* what do ye think o that .- 
 
 He tore the piece of paper into bits. 
 
 "An what does this mean --I d like to 
 know?" he said as he scattered them in the 
 wind. " It means that Tin tryiuk to help ye - 
 so it does. It means that yer own father 
 couldn t love ye no better, I dan j.ivMime 
 to say." 
 
 I looked at him, sorely puzzled, and for a 
 breath it seemed to me that Lovel must have 
 been wrong in his estimate of this singular 
 man. 
 
 "Thank you," 1 said, "but I wi>h you would 
 explain to me how it i.s that I am so flattered. 
 I never thought myself big enough to be in 
 anybody s way." 
 
 It s your trouble, pippin, as the bin! 
 said to the worm," Uog Rone went on as 
 we resumed our walk. * % 1 happm to km>\\ 
 some things that you don t, an you kin.u 
 some that I don t, which, as I often say, 
 is the way o the world an no wonder. AVe 
 loth have enemies, I dare proume to say. I 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 knowed that you was marked, long ago, an I 
 says to myself, I says, Cap n Rog, don t ye let 
 no harm come to the dear pippin hope to die 
 if I didn t an I kep an eye on ye, matey so 
 I did an I warned them as wanted t do 
 ye harm. Many a night I ve seen ye git off 
 the car at Broadway with them there whiskers 
 on an a hitch in yer gait an I knowed ye 
 an kep my eye on ye very sharp an care 
 fulso I did." 
 
 I was dumb with surprise for half a moment. 
 At the next lamp light I stopped and looked 
 into the wrinkled face of the Cap n. 
 
 "You are the most singular man that I ever 
 met in my life," I said. " Why, why have you 
 done this?" 
 
 " Cause I ve took a fancy to ye an I ll make 
 ye rich one o these days you mind my word, 
 pippin." Rone gave me a shrewd wink. 
 
 "You an me ll do some business together 
 I feel it in my bones," he added. 
 
 "Look here," I said, as I drew a large 
 revolver from my pocket, "I m prepared to 
 defend myself. They d better let me alone." 
 
 "Hell s bells! throw it overboard, matey," 
 said the Cap n with a leer of contempt. "It s 
 no good whatever at all." 
 
 He stopped me and whispered as he stood 
 
102 THE MASTER 
 
 squinting up at me. "I ll tell ye suthink - 
 you take me up to your (|iiarters an I ll hell 
 tin- reefs as good as I m able hope to die if 
 I don t." 
 
 We were near my door and presently I 
 paused with my hand upon the gate thinking 
 that after all it could do no harm to admit him. 
 
 "I can t open my yawp here it ain t 
 -ail t," the Cap n whispered as he looked up 
 and down the street. 
 
 "Come in," I said as I swung the iron gate 
 and mounted the steps. 
 
 "Very neat and tidy - - I call it," said Rone 
 when I had lighted the gas and drawn the 
 window shades. "Now as to your sailink 
 orders. I wouldn t have no gas here, pippin. 
 Have it turned off o this room. Candles 
 is better so I say. Number two: Be 
 careful where ye go after dark. Don t study 
 astronomy no more than what ye have to. 
 One day they found a man under High Bridge. 
 It looked as if he d fell, so it did, an no wonder 
 beink as they found a letter in his pocket 
 which said he was tired o life. Now you ll 
 think that was done very neat, Cappy, an 
 so it was but- Hell s bells! I ve hearn o 
 things -- say, one day a hoss run away an 
 smashed his owner. Now all they d done in 
 
THE MASTER 103 
 
 the world was to sprinkle some dry mustard 
 on the saddle blanket so I ve hearn an 
 he was the Mayor of a big city. It s plum 
 shameful an no mistake. I don know 
 nothink at all cept what I ve hearn, mind ye, 
 an that s come a long cruise, I dare presume 
 to say, an maybe it s all a lie, but step careful, 
 pippin. Keep both feet on the ground an 
 when ye pick one up look where ye put it down, 
 an mind this: Yer in danger only when ye 
 think yer saift, an that s the God s truth." 
 
 The Cap n paused to fill his pipe and I sat 
 staring into his face and mentally feeling for 
 bottom in this dark business. 
 
 "Now I ll p int out the worst reefs in yer 
 way, Cappy, if ye promise not t breathe a word 
 o what I say or don t say, or neither o what 
 I ve said a ready which is no more n right. 
 Ye must keep as still as a bull bat or my ol 
 gizzerd 11 be tore out and flung in a basket 
 an me with my eyes open a seeink how it s 
 done, which ain t no kind of a show fer a swell 
 gent to see is it now ?" 
 
 I agreed with him and held up my right 
 hand and took the oath that he demanded. 
 
 "Since ye left the Mug ye ve cruised about 
 in bad comp ny, so ye have," he began again. 
 "Better luff an get before the wind. If ye do 
 
104 THE MASTER 
 
 that it may be it just may be that ye ll see 
 no more o the war sign. Don t ye see, pippin, 
 that when a gun is beink aimed at a bird he s 
 very partic lar bad comp ny fer other birds 
 an no mistaki " 
 
 I saw at once that this dark hint of his 
 related to the shoemaker. 
 
 "I understand you," I said, "and I shall 
 warn my friend." I raised my hand and added : 
 "Of course, I shall be careful not to ( onij^ru- 
 mise you." 
 
 The Cap n said nothing of my remark but 
 looked into my eyes and added with a shrewd 
 wink : 
 
 You was to go into the eight* ward to 
 morrow night." 
 
 That struck me dumb. I had promised 
 to go there and report a ball to be given by a 
 certain politician of ill repute and how had he 
 learned of it? I made no answer but the 
 old ruffian had noted my surprise. 
 
 "Better go to bed, Cappy," he remarked 
 as he emptied his pipe. 
 
 Rog Rone limped to the window and peered 
 behind the shade and gave a low whistle. 
 
 i4 There s a little crack in the sky, shipmate. 
 I must be off," he whispered as he left me and 
 limped hurriedly down the stairs. I went with 
 
THE MASTER 105 
 
 him to the door and he asked me to look out 
 and see if any one was in sight and I gazed 
 up and down the street, which was still dark 
 and deserted, and in half a moment I saw him 
 disappearing in the gloom. 
 
 When I had gone to bed the rough, hairy 
 old skipper haunted my thought and seemed 
 to threaten me. Somehow this fond solicitude, 
 this mawkish, bland benevolence fitted him 
 very ill. Back of it all was some deep purpose 
 there could be no doubt of it and I knew 
 well that of all the knaves I had ever met he 
 was the one to be watched. But I could not 
 imagine what he was driving at. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Some men there are whose virtue issues from them 
 with the noise of clanging gates ; in others it dwells at 
 silent as the maid who never stirs from home, but sits 
 thoughtfully by the fireside, always ready to welcome 
 those who enter from the cold without. 
 
 MAETERLINCK 
 
 1 FOUND a rather painful surprise in 
 certain morning newspapers. Under 
 black-faced head-lines they alleged that Ben 
 Lovel, hero of the Beasly School fire, and the 
 lately elected president of the Mechanics 
 Union, had had a row with patrolman Conley 
 at one o clock in the morning over the arrest 
 of a disreputable young woman of the Ninth 
 Ward. In the midst of it another officer had 
 arrested the young man. Conley alleged 
 that Lovel had followed and finally assaulted 
 him, and accused him of having an improper 
 interest in the girl. The reporters had seen 
 Lovel at the station house, but he would say 
 nothing for publication. 
 
 I knew the heart of my friend, or thought I 
 knew it. Its great kindness had brought his 
 shame upon him. The unscrupulous pair 
 
 106 
 
THE MASTER 107 
 
 had blackened him in order to save them 
 selves and be revenged for his interference. 
 Without a moment s delay I hurried to Kerri 
 gan Place, but the shop was locked. I 
 returned at eight o clock that evening and 
 found Ben Lovel at his bench in the little 
 shop. He looked up with a smile. 
 
 "My master!" he exclaimed, "I am glad 
 to see you. To-night, to-night is our time. 
 The Council meets. It will choose between 
 peace and war. Wisdom and folly will strive 
 together, and I hope I believe it is the begin 
 ning of a great victory." 
 
 I held a newspaper in my hand and tried 
 to speak, but he stopped me and went on. 
 
 "I have seen Horton. He has promised 
 a million for our cause. He trusts my master, 
 Condon." 
 
 "Have you seen the morning papers?" 
 I asked. 
 
 "O, that is a little matter!" he exclaimed. 
 "They have turned upon me like wolves, but, 
 my dear Richard, I have had scarcely time to 
 think of it." 
 
 "But but I fear it will do you harm," 
 I said. "One must look out for his repu 
 tation." 
 
 " It is good, but there is that which is better," 
 
108 THE MASTER 
 
 s;iid my friend as he sat down and went on 
 with hi t,-i-k. 
 
 I looked at him in silence and divined his 
 meaning. 
 
 "Some will despise me, but I cannot help 
 it," he added; "some who are dear to me 
 will turn away, but I put justice above 
 them." 
 
 "I shall p> and tell what I know about it," 
 I said. 
 
 "No; I see my way clearly and you can 
 irive me no help. Hold your peace if you 
 are my friend. The girl will stand with 
 the officer - she cannot help it. They 
 will cover me with shame but, by and by, 
 they will open their mouths with astonish 
 ment." 
 
 I stood looking at him. 
 
 "It would serve no purpose, and then there 
 are Mr. Horton and the young lady," he added. 
 "They will think ill of you." 
 
 I looked into the calm, gentle face of my 
 friend and felt like a sparrow addressing a 
 swan. 
 
 "I shall be proud of your friendship, 
 always," I said to him. "If I can help you 
 I must, whatever happens." 
 
 "I am of small aeecumt," he answered. 
 
THE MASTER 109 
 
 "I am thinking of my many brothers in the 
 wide world, and I tell you the millionaire is 
 fond of my master, Condon." 
 
 "Why do you think that?" 
 
 "Else, it appears to me, he would not have 
 promised so large a sum to the order. We 
 owe much to the book, my master. It is 
 better than a host in arms. It has converted 
 some of the greatest captains in the army 
 of Discontent. Aided by the authority of 
 Condon, it has turned many from war to 
 peace and will turn many more. Letters 
 are coming from all parts of the earth, and 
 they say: You have convinced me. Let 
 us hear no more of war." 
 
 "One thing I wish to speak about I have 
 reason to think that your life is in great danger. 
 Don t go out unless some one is with you." 
 I cautioned. 
 
 "What of Rone?" he asked. 
 
 "I have seen him but once since leaving 
 the Mug." 
 
 "We both have cause to fear him," said 
 Lovel. 
 
 A quarter of an hour had not passed before 
 my ear caught the familiar cane-tap of the 
 Cap n coming nearer on the avenue, beyond 
 Kerrigan Place. We sat listening in silence 
 
110 THE MASTER 
 
 while it passed the shop. Presently it ceased 
 and we heard the clanking latch of the door 
 of the Lanthorne. 
 
 "He has entered the inn," Lovel whispered. 
 
 I was weary and in need of sleep, and he 
 saw it. 
 
 "Go into ray little room and lie down and 
 rest yourself," he said. "I have business 
 on my hands and may presently need your 
 help." 
 
 I fell asleep soon and was aroused by foot 
 steps on the stairs and the opening of the 
 outer door. I heard the low, deep voice of 
 Condon and another which was new to me. 
 Then the voice of Lovel saying: 
 
 "Sit down my masters." 
 
 "Let us proceed to business," said Condon. 
 
 "Yes," Lovel answered, "we have much 
 work to do." 
 
 "Well, I m going to listen and hold my 
 peace," said Condon. You ve got my hands 
 tied. I m only looking for arguments." 
 
 "I m in favour of war because I do 
 not see how we can dodge it," said the 
 voice of the stranger. "The preparations 
 are made." 
 
 "Well, suppose we call a great convention 
 of the order," Lovel began. "Let us say 
 
THE MASTER 111 
 
 that it is to assemble in the city of London. 
 Every man is to carry in his pockets a spec 
 ially made rifle consisting of twenty pieces, and 
 forty rounds of ammunition under a false 
 bottom in his trunk. There are a hundred 
 thousand of our men in the army of Great 
 Britain and many more in its workshops 
 men who will turn to us, it may be, in the hour 
 of our need. At a certain time of the day of 
 assembly the best ships in the British navy 
 are destroyed. In the midst of the excitement 
 that follows your war begins. Suddenly a great 
 army has possession of the streets and has 
 begun its work of destruction " 
 
 The voice of the stranger interrupted him 
 saying: 
 
 "My God, man! where did you hear of 
 that?" 
 
 "Oh, I m only supposing," Lovel went on. 
 "It s one of many plans which come to my 
 mind and I doubt if you could make a better 
 one, and yet it is worthless." 
 
 "Why?" the stranger asked. 
 
 "Because if you divide a secret among 
 many it is no longer a secret. The chain is 
 no stronger than its weakest link. It will 
 break and crush you. Some one or more of 
 them will turn honest and that will overthrow 
 
112 THE MASTER 
 
 you. But suppose the chain holds --you 
 would he found out." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because the eyes of all good men have the 
 power to behold rvil though it be hidden. 
 The eyes of men are never satisfied but are 
 ever trying the hearts of their brothers, with 
 a wondrous gift. Have you never been 
 astonished by them?" 
 
 "(iod knows I have," said Condon. 
 
 "But suppose you elude all vigilance and the 
 chain holds ami you take the city," Lovel 
 went on. "Do you believe in the justice of 
 God and the teaching of our Grfat Master 
 Jesus?" 
 
 "I do, but what lias that to do with it?" 
 
 "Fool! You cannot serve two mash ;-. 
 said the young man with feeling. You 
 must either abandon your ( iod or your war - 
 there is no middle ground." 
 
 "But is not our cause just?" the .stranger 
 queried. 
 
 " Aye, suppose it be so still if you go to war 
 you blacken it with injustice far greater than 
 that of which you complain. And your God 
 becomes a name only and your religion a jest 
 and your souls return to pagan darkness. 
 For suppose, having succeeded thus far you 
 
THE MASTER 113 
 
 set out to conquer the world. Now, whatever 
 your lips may say, this will be the prayer of 
 your hearts every morning: 
 
 O God ! help us this day to forget Thy 
 commandments. Help us to hate our 
 brothers and to slay them with the sword 
 and to ravage their houses and lay waste 
 their fields. Help us to deceive them 
 with our spies and our stratagems so that 
 when we fall upon them at last we shall 
 smite every horse with astonishment and 
 his rider with madness and make them 
 an easy prey. Thou hast said that 
 we shall not steal, but O God! help us 
 this day to lay hold of their treasure and 
 make it our own. Help us to fill every 
 heart with despair and every house with 
 mourning. Help us this day to heed 
 not the cry of child or woman or stricken 
 warrior but help us rather to delight in 
 sorrow and death and all evil. And 
 this we ask for Jesus Christ s sake. 
 Amen. 
 
 "Now, my masters, do you not see that 
 your purpose cannot endure this test, that 
 you have forfeited all right to prayer and to 
 divine aid and mercy w^hen you go into battle ?" 
 
 An impressive silence followed. Then a 
 stir and the voice of Condon saying: 
 
 "Let us go." 
 
114 THE MASTER 
 
 The two went away and Lovel came into 
 the bedroom with his candle. 
 
 "I did not expect them," said he, "but 
 seeing them here I threw my last stone. I 
 could not help it for I shall have no other 
 chance to talk with them. You have heard 
 all, but no matter. There is nothing more to 
 be done." 
 
 In that hour I had begun to know him. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 Thousands and thousands of things quiver in silence 
 on the lips of true friendship and love that are not to be 
 found in the silence of other lips to which friendship 
 and love are unknown. MAETERLINCK 
 
 IT WILL be remembered that next day 
 Darklight was to make history, and there 
 in he achieved signal and unexpected success 
 upon my person, but not otherwise. I went to 
 Pier No. 5, at the hour appointed. Pipps, Hig- 
 gins, and Darklight stood waiting for me. The 
 latter betrayed signs of deep excitement. He 
 called us close together and whispered mys 
 teriously. 
 
 "Separate, and make for the Staten Island 
 ferry house. I m afraid of being watched and 
 followed." 
 
 He displayed and flaunted his mystery 
 before us with a keen delight in it. 
 
 "Give us some idea of the nature of the 
 crime," Pipps urged. 
 
 "It s innocent enough," said Darklight. 
 " I m only afraid of the other papers. You ll see 
 a great act. A multi-millionaire will be there 
 and if he likes the show my fortune is made." 
 
 115 
 
116 THE MASTER 
 
 We separated and went by diverse routes to 
 the ferry. To my great .surprise I found Mr. 
 Horton and his daughter in the waiting-room. 
 
 The great i.ian clapped me on the shoulder 
 and said laughingly: 
 
 "Glad to see you, my 1><>\ ! I understood 
 that you were going and thought I would 
 bring Miss Ruth. She has an eye for 
 history and I believe that we are to see the 
 making of a bit of it; you must help me 
 to look out for her, and remember/ he added 
 with a smile, "I m not to let her go falling 
 in love." 
 
 "I ll be a stern deputy," I promised ;is we 
 went aboard. 
 
 I sat down with the young lady, while her 
 father stood on the open deck with my l riend>. 
 Suddenly, I knew that she vpAfl aware of my 
 secret- it may have been her eyes that told 
 me. Then I confessed: 
 
 " 1 have M> much to sa\ , and there is so little 
 that I can say." 
 
 "I know," she answered quickly; "but 
 let us use words for politeness, ,md the state 
 of the weather, and all that little business." 
 
 "And say the best truth in silence?" I 
 queried. 
 
 And wrap ourselves in mystery and see 
 
THE MASTER 117 
 
 if we can solve the riddle. We shall be like a 
 book that is half read." 
 
 "Do you know what I am saying to you 
 now?" I asked. 
 
 She looked into my eyes and I remember 
 as if it were a thing of to-day just what her own 
 said to me, but she only nodded, and then I 
 thought her beautiful. 
 
 "I warn you, that a woman is no easy 
 riddle," she remarked. "You may be far 
 from the truth when you feel sure that you 
 know her. She is lucky if she knows herself." 
 
 "It s a pretty mystery," I said. "Men 
 are not so difficult." 
 
 "They are like the riddle of the Sphinx," 
 she answered with a laugh. "I cannot make 
 them out. Think of your friend Lovel, 
 whose face and music would remind you of 
 paradise. But I fear he s a very common 
 fellow." 
 
 I promptly took his part and told, as best 
 I could, how his shame had come upon him, 
 and how far he stood above it. 
 
 "I am glad you told me," she said rather 
 solemnly. " He is brave he is not like 
 other men like most other men." 
 
 "I only know that he is far above me," was 
 my confession. "I am better for having 
 
118 THE MASTER 
 
 known the boy but --but I cannot follow 
 him. He is on different ground, somehow." 
 "Would vou have done what he did ?" 
 
 V 
 
 "Not yesterday, but to-day -since my 
 talk with him I would do it. lie gave me 
 some of his courage." 
 
 "I wish that I could know him better, 
 but now I fear it is impossible, " she said 
 with regret in her eyes. "My friends are 
 so conventional, and perhaps they are right. 
 Who is he and where does he come from, 
 and how does it happen that he s a shoe 
 maker ?" 
 
 "I do not know; he never speaks of his 
 past." 
 
 " Strange - - isn t it !" said she. ik My 
 father doesn t like that trait in him. Why 
 should he make a mystery of his past ? One 
 cannot help thinking that it may be very bad." 
 
 " At first I wondered, then I began to under 
 stand," was my answer. * There s one man 
 he never speaks of, and I am sure he never 
 thinks of him that s Ben Lovel. It s a 
 part of his scheme of life, to forget himself." 
 
 The boat had landed and we all went 
 ashore and followed Darklight. By train 
 and carriage we came, by and by, to the top 
 of a lonely hill where two men awaited us, one 
 
THE MASTER 119 
 
 with a tripod and camera. On the ground 
 near them were a couple of big long boxes. 
 
 Darklight jumped from the carriage and 
 approached the waiting pair. 
 
 "Professor, I am glad to see you," he said 
 to one of the men who had been awaiting us. 
 "Are you ready." 
 
 " All ready." 
 
 "Then open the boxes and we will set up 
 the machine." 
 
 As they broke the boxes, Darklight called 
 Pipps, Higgins and myself together and 
 whispered : 
 
 "It s Morgenthal s flyer!" 
 
 His chin trembled. He gave us an impres 
 sive look and added: "The greatest inven 
 tion of the century!" 
 
 He paused again as if to give us time to 
 recover, and went on: "I propose to form a 
 company, and Horton and other rich men are 
 going to back it. This man will operate the 
 machine. He s an equilibrist and high diver 
 from Barnum s show. I am to have the first 
 story of it published in America, with the 
 pictures of the professor in flight. How s 
 that, for a sensation? The paper has paid 
 five thousand dollars to get it." 
 
 We removed many rods of bamboo with 
 
120 THE MASTER 
 
 bolts and clamps from the boxes, and Dark- 
 light, who consulted a printed sheet of diiv< 
 tions, told us what to do. In half an hour 
 two frames of bamboo covered with silk lay 
 stretched before us, like the wings of a LTivat 
 lird, over a span of some forty feet. They 
 were soon connected with rods and Darklight 
 showed us how thr operator, standing U -I ween 
 them, inserted an arm to the shoulder in each 
 wing, and seized a pair of handles. There 
 were pasters on the wood-work of the machine, 
 printed in German, which said, substantially: 
 
 44 This machine is dangerous - very danger 
 ous. Do not try to fly it in a wind." 
 
 Of the historic event promised there is 
 little to be recorded, save my own part in it. 
 The Professor began his c\|>ei -imcnts in a 
 gingerly fashion, having been alarmed by tin- 
 warnings. He took his place in the body of 
 the flyer and raised its wings and stood still, 
 but nothing happened. He gently wavrd 
 both wings but the soft breeze which blew 
 up the hillside failed to accept his challenge. 
 He walked down the slope a few steps and still 
 nothing came of it. He ran a little, and Pipps 
 hurled a jest at him, and we all laughed. 
 The Professor grew l>ravc and ran up and d0fl n 
 the hillside with wings in the air and his feet 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 always on the ground. We turned upon Dark- 
 light, who stood by the camera, and gave him 
 a volley of ridicule. He made no reply but 
 hurried to the Professor with new suggestions. 
 They were tried, with no better luck. The 
 Professor saw that he was only making fun 
 for us and crawled out of the flyer. 
 
 "It s a bloomin fake!" he exclaimed as he 
 joined us. 
 
 Darklight s maker of history lay deserted 
 in the grass and all had a word of contempt 
 for it. We began to laugh again, for Higgins 
 had taken the place of the athlete. 
 
 Our friend and clubmate, Mr. Solomon 
 Higgins, had one dimension so salient and 
 incisive that it entered his name, and the 
 reflections of all who knew him. On Park 
 Row, from Broadway to the Bridge, he was 
 "Lengthy" Higgins. He had legs of unusual 
 length and the thickness of his thigh would 
 scarcely have exceeded the diameter of a 
 teacup. He wore big, round spectacles, and 
 rode across the Bridge every morning on a 
 great, creaking bicycle propelled by straps 
 and levers. He was a man of ingenuity, 
 whose words were assisted by real insight and 
 a solemn countenance. 
 
 He had carefully examined the machine 
 
122 THE MASTER 
 
 and now stood like a heron alighting, with 
 wings out. He ran a few steps down the 
 hillside. 
 
 "Boys, I believe I can fly her like a kite," 
 said he. "Can you get me a rope?" 
 
 Darklight raced away in a carriage and 
 returned, by and by, with the rope desired. 
 Higgins made it fast to a strong bar of bamboo 
 between the two wings. Then he took his 
 place in medias res and put on the machine. 
 He stood with his arms under the wings, and 
 said to us: 
 
 "You fellow r s, run down hill with the rope 
 and I ll follow. If she flies, hang on and 
 don t let me go more than four or five feet 
 from the ground." 
 
 We took hold and ran ahead of our slim 
 friend down the slope. There were three or 
 four ineffective trials of this sort and then 
 confusion. Mr. Higgins was going at top 
 speed down the hill, as we ran ahead of him, 
 all hands pulling on the rope. It was a hun 
 dred feet long, and I clung near the end of it. 
 Suddenly we met a vagrant puff of wind. 
 Like a mad bull it tossed the machine. The 
 rope flashed through our hands and felt like 
 hot iron. The heels of Mr. Higgins came 
 together with a loud whack above our heads. 
 
THE MASTER 123 
 
 In a twinkling man and machine had plunged 
 some two hundred feet into the air. It was 
 like magic. I had not seen them move. 
 They had been here, and, presto ! they were 
 there. The others had let go and a knot in 
 the rope s end had struck my blistered hands. 
 I held on for the sake of poor Higgins, and 
 up I went in a long curve like the snapper on 
 a whip-lash. Far above me I could see Mr. 
 Higgins, hurtling and curvetting about, his 
 long legs whipping hither and thither, his 
 big, round spectacles glowing at every turn. 
 It produced an odd delusion. His move 
 ments were so swift that he seemed to be as 
 long as the rope I clung to. He moved in 
 swoops and swirls, and drops and long upward 
 leaps. I got a bight of the rope s end on my 
 wrist and circled and swung and dared not 
 release my hold. How I managed to keep 
 it is more than I can say, although others 
 have told me it was only for a matter of some 
 three or four seconds. I saw Mr. Higgins 
 swoop down and flash up and whirl half over 
 and come fluttering toward the earth. Then 
 I felt myself hit the ground and the rope came 
 pouring down upon me. I heard voices, and 
 one, the sweetness of whose word and tone 
 I have not yet forgotten, but they were faint 
 
124 THE MASTER 
 
 and broken like sounds that have come far 
 in a wind. 
 
 "Is this the earth?" I heard Higgins 
 n>k, and then say: "I ll never jump off it 
 airain. If any of you want to be an angel, 
 here s your chance. I don t need any more 
 practice." 
 
 Then their voices grew faint and stopped 
 suddenly. I came to in a moment, with Ruth 
 Horton bending over me and rubbing my 
 brow with her hand. She said not a word 
 for half a moment, but a tear fell from her 
 cheek upon mine, and helped me to under 
 stand her. It was far more to me than any 
 thing she had said, or could say. 
 
 They took me to a hospital where a surgeon 
 found a few broken bones in me, and where 
 Mi<s Morton and her father came every day 
 with cheering words and faces. 
 
 "I don t think much of that machine," 
 said Mr. Horton next day. The subject 
 of rapid transit to the undiscovered country 
 is not worth investigating. I loaned a few 
 hundred dollars to your friend, but refused 
 to take any stock in the company. My 
 afternoon was not wasted, for we were both 
 pleased with the demonstration of you. I 
 am glad to help any enterprise that is likely 
 
THE MASTER 125 
 
 to help mankind, and Holm, I wouldn t 
 mind taking a little stock in you. Would 
 you like the railroad business ?" 
 
 "Of course you would like it," said Ruth 
 playfully. 
 
 "And I will, if it is your wish," I said. 
 
 "I believe you re a good business venture," 
 Mr. Horton added; "and, boy, I m going to 
 satisfy myself about it. I believe there s 
 something in you." 
 
 His daughter left us and then he added: 
 
 "The girl likes you, but you mustn t count 
 on that, boy. You have too many rivals 
 and she s already lost her heart, I believe. 
 My wife has plans for her." 
 
 I got his meaning and came to know this 
 by putting two and two together, no doubt 
 that Mrs. Horton did not know the name of 
 the sick man w T hom her daughter visited. 
 So, with the help of that and ray unrewarded 
 visits to the Horton home, I saw clearly that 
 the man and wife were not of a like mind 
 about me. 
 
 I had written to Lovel explaining my failure 
 to meet him, and the letter quickly brought 
 my friend. It was a pleasant and wonderful 
 thing the way he put his hand upon my 
 head, the look of his face, and the sound of 
 
126 THE MASTER 
 
 his greeting. The tenderness of it all went 
 to my heart, and I did not know until then 
 how dear he was to me. Ruth Ilorton had 
 brought flowers and was decorating the room. 
 For a moment he seemed not to see her. As 
 he turned from me she offered him her hand 
 and lie took it and >;ii<l: 
 
 "I have been condemned by the law and 
 punished, and you --you seem not to despise 
 me." 
 
 "I know the truth about you and how 
 good and brave you have been," she 
 answered. 
 
 "Think not of me but of the girl, who is as 
 one brought back to life. I remember well 
 the words of our Great Master, Jesus, and I 
 shall deliver her into His fold." 
 
 In the brief silence that followed, suggestions 
 of new trouble crowded into my thoughts. 
 
 "As to myself," he added, "do not expect 
 that I shall cease to know trouble. I see my 
 way and it leads not to peace." 
 
 With that lie left us. 
 
 "Wonderful!" said Miss Horton as soon 
 as he was gone. "I could almost love a man 
 like that. He reminds me of the text yester 
 day: His eyes shall be as the noonday; he 
 shall shine forth like the morning." 
 
THE MASTER 127 
 
 "If any man deserves the love of so dear a 
 woman, it is he," I said with a pang that I 
 had to confess it. 
 
 "But I love him not as the world loves." 
 she said. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THIS matter of recalling my past is like 
 looking from a mountain-top into a 
 great valley through which I have made my 
 way. I see where I wandered and was lost; 
 I see vast shadows and broad, sunlit spaces, 
 and people moving here and there. I liken 
 those days in bed - painful as (hey were 
 to the sunlit spaces, remembering how thr\ 
 were lighted with thoughts better than I and 
 as noble, I dare hope, as had been the kindness 
 of my friends. Among these, I count the book 
 which I had re-read in the light of my newer 
 knowledge. 
 
 My bones were healed, and I had rclurm <! 
 to my lodgings when Lovel came again 
 
 "My master, forgive me," he said. "1 have 
 had many ta>ks. I have mended forty pairs 
 of shoes and the li\rU of sundry poor fellows 
 and have left you to the doctors and the 
 sw r eet young lady." 
 
 "And the book- Ihe wonderful book," 
 I said. "It has been like a wise father to me." 
 
 "We >hall see Condon to-nirrht." he said 
 
 128 
 
THE MASTER 129 
 
 with a look of joy. " The Council is for peace. 
 The Napoleon has had a battle and remains 
 emperor. There are some who cannot be 
 reconciled. They are like scattered sheep 
 without a shepherd. Perhaps you could go." 
 
 His face brightened when I said that I 
 should be glad to go. 
 
 "Much has happened since you were shut 
 away from us," he went on. "My master, 
 Condon, has been named for Congress and 
 will be elected, let us hope. He has put his 
 hand to the plough and cannot turn back." 
 
 I had not fully got his meaning when he 
 stood that day, looking down at me, his face 
 full of enthusiasm. But I had often to be 
 content with a partial understanding of his 
 words. 
 
 "We will go first and honour the great 
 man," he said as he led me out of the little 
 shop. "Come, you shall see the ways of 
 pleasantness." 
 
 We walked to one of the large hotels, where 
 "our master, Condon," was being received 
 by the President, the mayor, and other dis 
 tinguished men. We joined the many who 
 wished to shake his hand and assure him of 
 their debt. Some I saw who called him 
 brother and spoke to him lovingly as one 
 
130 THE MASTER 
 
 addresses a dear friend, and yet I knew that 
 they had never seen him before then. It 
 reminded me of that line of Whitman s: 
 
 44 Do you know what it is as you pass to be lorcd by 
 strangers ? " 
 
 It was a great thing to have warmed the 
 heart of the world and have inspired for one s 
 self its grateful prayer and affection; to have 
 made millions of brothers with one little book. 
 I spoke of that when we had left and were 
 walking away together, but he made no an 
 swer and I knew that he was thinking of some 
 greater thing. We went to the Lanthorne 
 for a bite of supper, and at eleven o clock 
 were on our way to the Council chamber of 
 the Centre Link of the Toilers Chain. 
 
 It was a place of many perils which we 
 found in the deep of the night, and for both 
 of us it was like the valley of the shadow of 
 death. \Ve had crossed the river, as before, 
 and tramped a mile or so in dark streets when 
 a deep voice hailed us. It was that of Condon 
 himself, who came out of the darkness behind 
 and took the arm of my friend. 
 
 "I have been watching for you," said he 
 in a low tone. "Why don t you take my 
 advice, and a cab ? You need only tell 
 them to charge the bill to me." 
 
THE MASTER 131 
 
 "Did you not know that I am a cobbler?" 
 my friend answered. 
 
 "It makes no difference," said Condon 
 with a note of impatience in his tone. 
 
 "Then you do not know why I am a 
 cobbler," Ben Lovel said. 
 
 "You are a bit of a crank," Condon 
 whispered rather sternly. "Remember now, 
 you will go when I hold my handkerchief in 
 my left hand; there will be a cab at the door." 
 
 "Follow close behind us," he commanded 
 me as he entered the dark hall with his arm 
 in Lovel s. 
 
 I did as be bade me and was soon in the 
 gloomy chamber in which nearly three months 
 before delegates from many races and capitals 
 had sat together. Condon w r alked down the 
 aisle and took his place at the table where, 
 as before, I saw a number of lighted candles. 
 We sat on a bench near him. The room was 
 crowded. Condon tapped with his gavel and 
 called for the minutes, which were read. 
 Reports of officers and committees followed 
 and presently, the Napoleon rose and said: 
 
 "Our full Council held its last meeting of 
 the year on Wednesday night, and its members 
 have returned to their homes. It is my duty 
 to inform you that it has decided once and for 
 
132 THE MASTER 
 
 all an important question of policy. We shall 
 >cek to achieve our ends l>y making and not 
 by breaking laws. 1 
 
 A murmur of disapproval be^an near UN 
 and spread through the room. A resounding 
 thump of his gavel, and the speaker continued 
 in a voice of such authority that order was at 
 once restored. "Silence, men, while you 
 hear my report. I beg to remind you that in 
 all matters you have sworn to accept the 
 judgment of your Council. It is final, and 
 while I have not always agreed with it, there 
 has been never a time \vhen I would not sooner 
 have lost my head than show r by the slightest 
 word or deed that I had not the fullest possi 
 ble respect for it. If we lose that we have 
 lost all. Listen, while I inform you of its 
 plan. A committee has been appointed for 
 every land in which we have a Link. This 
 committee will try to get the legislation we 
 need. It will seek to break down the walls 
 of prejudice and bring rich and poor, noble 
 and peasant, into closer and more sympathetic 
 relations. A fund of one million dollars will 
 be distributed among these committees for 
 the furtherance of our work." 
 
 The Napoleon was interrupted by cheers 
 and hisses. Again his masterly eye and voice 
 
THE MASTER 133 
 
 awed the unsatisfied in the army of discontent. 
 Well they knew what thunderbolts had fallen 
 from his hand! In half a moment all were 
 looking up at him in deep silence. 
 
 "It is a pleasure to be able to tell you," 
 he went on, "that our work for a fairer dis 
 tribution of the world s wealth is progressing 
 beyond my hopes. You will agree with me 
 that nothing we do or say should interrupt 
 it. I have learned that many rich men have 
 only to be convinced of our honour and good 
 will to join, heart and purse, in our efforts. 
 When I tell you that five of them have pledged 
 fifty thousand each for the support of the 
 unemployed and the education of the children 
 of the poor in all countries, you will under 
 stand the action of our Council. I believe 
 that we may safely expect a fund of ten 
 million dollars. I have been invited to visit 
 England, France, Austria, Italy, and Germany. 
 I have had letters from wealthy and dis 
 tinguished men statesmen, bankers, bishops 
 of the church, cabinet ministers, and noblemen 
 - who wish to help our cause. Within a 
 month I shall begin my work among them. 
 The ear of the world is turned to us and the 
 heart of the world is ready for our appeal. 
 Why go to war when peace will serve us better ? 
 
134 THE MASTER 
 
 I have been miscalled the Napoleon of Dis 
 content. I disclaim the title. I am no lover 
 of war. I favoured it when it seemed to be our 
 only recourse. Let us have peace. It is not 
 revenge, but justice that we desire. * 
 
 There were more cheers than before, but 
 the hisses were many and persistent. Condon 
 calmly resumed his chair and beckoned to 
 Lovel who went to his side. All eyes were turned 
 upon them, and I could hear only smothered 
 murmurs of discontent. I studied the face 
 of the masterful captain. I fancied that I 
 saw in it subtle suggestions of the greatness 
 which had filled and inspired his book. At 
 least the strength and the calm dignity of 
 its appeal were there, and what a wonderful 
 thing the book had done for him and the 
 brotherhood of the Chain! I had not until 
 then quite comprehended the power of it. 
 Those enlightened pages had irone to the ends 
 of the earth, and proved the sincerity and 
 wisdom of the captain. They had convinced 
 all as they had convinced me. They had 
 given him the respect and confidence of the 
 very men that he most desired to reach. 
 They had caught the ear of the world. It 
 could not be that tliU irreat man had had the 
 least part in those dark and cunning deeds of 
 
THE MASTER 135 
 
 which Lovel had secretly informed me. If 
 so, he must have turned from his sin, as Paul 
 had done, and received the gift of prophecy. 
 
 My reflections were stopped by Lovel, who 
 had begun to speak. I shall not try to repeat 
 his words, for the splendour of his face and a 
 power, not in their sound or meaning, as I 
 think of them, fell upon us and silenced 
 every murmur. They pleaded for peace and 
 the end of violence and evil passion; they 
 pictured the growing strength of the Chain, 
 with leaders in the halls of legislation and the 
 councils of the State and the confidence of the 
 rich and powerful. He spoke for the rich 
 man whose lack of charity was no greater 
 than that with which he was regarded. He 
 was interrupted by hisses and sat down. 
 
 His speech had made its point. I had seen 
 its effect in the faces of the men around me. 
 I have thought sometimes that the radical 
 wing would have gone with its wiser brothers 
 but for the malice of one man a tall, full- 
 bearded Bavarian peasant, of a bitter soul 
 and the gift of eloquence one of those soon 
 to win infamy and death in the Hay market 
 riot in Chicago. He rose and began a pro 
 test full of the worst feeling: 
 
 "They tell us that peace is better than 
 
130 THE MASTEU 
 
 revenge," he shouted with the accent of a 
 German who has not fully mastered his 
 English. That we should lie down with the 
 lion who has rent our flesh, and put away the 
 thirst for his Mood which came of our fathers. 
 I say that our desire for i \ n^e is righteous 
 and God-given. It calls for blood and that 
 only will erase our wrongs. What says the 
 Lord of Hosts hi the lips of his prophet Samuel ? 
 These are the words: 
 
 "I remember that which . \malek did to 
 Israel how he laid wait for him in the 
 way when he came up from Egypt. 
 
 " Now go and smite Amalck and utterly 
 destroy all that they have and spare them 
 not but slay both man and woman, infant 
 and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and 
 ass. 
 
 "And Saul destroyed the doomed people 
 but spared Agag their king and the Lord 
 repented that he had given his work to Saul 
 on account of his softness and thr prophet 
 spoke this command to him : Bring ye hither 
 to me Agag the king of the Amalekites. 
 And Agag came unto him delicately and said: 
 Surely the bitterness of death is passed. 
 And Samuel hewed Agag in pieces before the 
 Lord in Gilgal. So says the holy record." 
 
THE MASTER 137 
 
 It may seem strange to my reader, as it did 
 to me, that the Bible should have had so much 
 authority with those rough and bitter men. 
 Murmurs of approval arose and grew and con 
 tinued. The speaker was interrupted by 
 them and paused, and presently went on. 
 
 "So said and did the judge of all the world. 
 Perhaps we may respect His teaching, as well 
 as that of our gentle Napoleon/ 
 
 The crowd w^ent with him in a burst of 
 laughter and applause. 
 
 In a voice shrill and quivering with excite 
 ment, he asked why their captain, like Saul, 
 had dallied in the work of his Master. In a 
 few weeks he had become a friend of the 
 rich and, possibly, rich himself. Had Agag 
 addressed him delicately and persuaded him 
 that the bitterness of death was passed ? 
 Since he had begun "to suck the drugs of 
 opulence" he had acquired the mildness of a 
 dove. He suspected that the shoemaker who 
 had been preaching peace, until they were all 
 weary of his folly, had at last converted him. 
 
 "I charge the shoemaker with being a spy 
 in the pay of the aristocrats/ the speaker 
 went on. "I have proof that he is a rich man; 
 that his shop and cobbling are only a cloak 
 for his villainy; that by cunning he has 
 
138 THE MASTER 
 
 learned of our secret work and told certain of 
 his friends about it. I tell you that I have 
 the proof of this in my pocket." 
 
 There were loud cries and hisses on every 
 side, and two or three shouted: " Down with 
 tin- shoemaker!" 
 
 "We have been duped but we are not yet 
 defeated," said the speaker, and was halted 
 by applause. As he waited in silence I a 
 him cross his heart with his right forefinger. 
 A whispered exclamation came from Lovel. 
 
 Condon had sat calmly reading a report. 
 He rose and rapped with his gavel, and said 
 (jiiietly, as if it were all a matter of slight 
 importance, "My brother will please take 
 his seat and come to my office to-morrow at 
 ten. There will be no more seditious talk 
 in any meeting of the Chain. I should like 
 to confer with Brothers Rone, Mitchell, 
 Matlofsky and Cantaverro after the meeting 
 in this room. The secretary will read to all 
 a piece of astonishing news after which a 
 motion to adjourn will be in order." 
 
 lie removed his handkerchief and held it 
 in his left hand. Lovel rose and started 
 through the aisle, and I followed him. The 
 secretary began to talk of the remarkable 
 letter which he was about to read. I know 
 
THE MASTER 139 
 
 now that it was done to hold the crowd in 
 their seats. 
 
 The Napoleon had prevailed. Their hearts 
 had failed them when they heard his voice. 
 There was no sound of disorder in any part 
 of the room ; but the seeds of trouble had been 
 scattered and could not be recalled. Many 
 scanned the face of my friend with curious 
 interest as we passed them. We hurried up 
 the stairs and down to the outer door and into 
 the cab, which awaited us. 
 
 "To Kerrigan Place!" I shouted and 
 away we went at a gallop. Neither spoke 
 until our carriage stopped in the ferry house. 
 Then Lovel whispered: 
 
 "They have marked me for death. Did 
 you see him cross his heart ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "That is the sign and a dozen answered it. 
 The change came too quickly. Blood must 
 pay for our victory, and perhaps mine will 
 be enough. I hope it may be so." 
 
 He leaned back on the cushions and spoke 
 calmly of his peril, and like one who is weary 
 after his work is done. 
 
 "Let us leave the city and escape them," 
 I suggested, in no way surprised by what he 
 had said to me. 
 
140 THE MASTER 
 
 " But they are cunning, and in many places, 
 ;ind will know the way we take. The fury of 
 a false god i> in them. But think of what we 
 have done, dear Ri< -hard, and be glad with me. 
 My master, Condon, leads a mighty host. The 
 light shines upon his way. The words of his 
 mouth were more than food to me. I am a 
 little creature the least of them all." 
 
 And the greatest, I was about to say, but 
 held my peace, knowing him as I did. The 
 thought of his peril haunted me. 
 
 "I do not think they will dare molest you," 
 I said. "Condon will keep them in hand." 
 
 He made no answer and I added . 
 
 "It surprised me that the man dared be so 
 frank in the presence of the captain." 
 
 "The time has come when the\ can pro 
 voke him and be secure, and they know it," 
 said my friend. 
 
 "Do you think he recognized the sign?" 
 
 "He would not know the sign." 
 
 "We must see and trll him at once." 
 
 "They think me a rich man and a spy," 
 said Lovel. "It is because they have read 
 and failed to understand the letter stolen by 
 Rone. You will remember that I warned 
 von of Rone that he worked in the dark: 
 and delighted in evil deeds. You moved and 
 
THE MASTER 141 
 
 kept out of his way and purged yourself of 
 the war sign. So they judge me a spy and 
 the foe of my brothers." 
 
 Little more was said until we got to Kerrigan 
 Place, where I entered his shop with the shoe 
 maker and remained with him until morning. 
 
 At daylight, Condon came in a carriage and 
 bade us go with him. 
 
 "You w r ill leave the shop for a few days 
 and live in a house near me," he said to Lovel. 
 "Do as I tell you and stay in for a week. or 
 so. Sores have a way of healing; with 
 proper treatment they will disappear, and you 
 may soon do as you please." 
 
 "You would best look out for yourself/ 
 said Lovel. 
 
 "Oh, I musn t show T any fear!" he answered 
 in a tone of indifference. : You know, I ve 
 got to keep the others afraid." 
 
 I looked at these two masterful men who sat 
 with me, the one frail as \vax, the other strong 
 as iron; and yet the wax [had bent the iron. 
 
 I rode with them to Lovel s lodgings. The 
 Napoleon asked where I wished to go, and 
 drove me to the place without a word until I 
 was getting out. 
 
 "Keep away from there until I see you 
 again," he said, as I bade him good morning. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 TWO weeks had gone and Lovel had 
 returned to his shop. He had met 
 some of the radicals, and Condon assured me 
 that the time of peril had passed, (^uile 
 another matter had begun to worry my friend. 
 The young woman, for whose sake he had 
 suffered a fine and a public reprimand and 
 some evil fame, was heaping trouble on him. 
 He had dreamed of leading her, and other-* 
 like her, into the way of peace. But it became 
 the way of strife at its very entrance. No 
 decent home was open to her and, as I fore 
 saw, the churches could give him little help. 
 He found there phrases of good will and 
 offers of money, but none wished to touch 
 her hand, even. He searched vainly, as he 
 thought, for the spirit of his Great Master, 
 Jesus, who was wont to treat the women of 
 her kind with peculiar tenderness. Minis 
 ters sent him to a place set apart for evil 
 doers. He had found one offer of Christian 
 fellowship in a post of the Salvation Army, 
 and had accepted the same. For the first 
 
 III 
 
THE MASTER 143 
 
 time I had seen his face clouded with indig 
 nation. 
 
 "It burns me like a fire," he said in speak 
 ing of his trouble. "How may we help 
 these little people, who behave themselves 
 proudly and worship the work of their hands 
 and take no thought of their brothers! I 
 know a place, far from here, where my Great 
 Master dwells. I wish that I might take her 
 there. But I shall send her back to the sea, 
 on which she was born, with her mother. 
 They shall have honest work to do." 
 
 That was all that he said to me of the whole 
 matter. His pity overcame his indignation, for 
 every man was his brother even the basest. 
 
 Where was the land he knew in which the 
 Great Master dwelt ? The scene of his 
 childhood, perhaps, for that may have "a 
 charm from the skies," although I have never 
 felt the like myself. He said not a word to 
 enlighten me and long since I had ceased to 
 question him in relation to his own history. 
 
 I was working these days to pay for my 
 illness and with so much to do that I had 
 even denied myself the pleasure of a night 
 with my friends at the Lanthorne since my 
 recovery. I had heard no more from Horton 
 regarding his will to try me and was losing 
 
144 THE MASTER 
 
 hope of it, when a note come one day inviting 
 me to his home. I was to be there at nine 
 o clock that evening. When I called, the 
 butler took me to the playroom of the million 
 aire above stairs, where he loved to sit with 
 his intimates. It contained a billiard and 
 card table, and there were easy chairs and a 
 sofa before an open fireplace. The walls 
 were covered with old tapestries. Horton 
 was fond of cards, and I had heard that the 
 price of a railroad had been known to cross 
 his table in the course of a night s play. He 
 met me at the door. 
 
 "Hello, my boy!" he exclaimed with a 
 hearty shake of my hand. * You ve got your 
 feet on the ground again now keep em there. 
 Sit down here and smoke a cigar with me." 
 
 I sat on the sofa, at his side, before the fire. 
 
 "You think you d like the railroad business 
 do you?" he asked. 
 
 "I do," was my answer. 
 Then, there s another problem is it 
 going to like you? and the boss will ha\v 
 to answer that question. It s harder than 
 sawing wood. I want you to begin at the 
 bottom, at ten dollars a week, and take your 
 chances under a boss." 
 
 I think that he was feeling to see if I had the 
 
THE MASTER 145 
 
 right stuff in me, and I was quick to say that 
 hard work and small pay would not turn me 
 aside. My answer pleased him. 
 
 "If you do your part, I ll do mine," he 
 said, "and mine will be to try to make you 
 happy. Report at my office Monday morning, 
 at nine, and we ll take the ten o clock train 
 for the shops. I ll keep my eye on you." 
 
 He told me of his early hardships and how 
 he had won promotion and the good will of 
 his boss. 
 
 Presently, his daughter ran in upon us. 
 
 "Mother has asked me to bring Mr. 
 Holm!" she exclaimed merrily. "I can t 
 let you have him any longer." 
 
 "He is yours," said her father, with a 
 wink at me. "These women are sly people; 
 I didn t suppose that either of them would 
 suspect you were here." 
 
 "We didn t suspect we knew," she said 
 with a laugh. "I knew and told her and 
 learned that she knew. Don t imagine you 
 can fool us; we ve a splendid secret service 
 here. You must come down; you must 
 see mother, and the scion." 
 
 "The dear old girl!" said Mr. Horton 
 with a laugh; "I ll go along and have a look 
 at the fun." 
 
146 THE MASTER 
 
 "She will ask you to dinner," the girl 
 whispered as we descended the great stair- 
 You simply must say yes. Remember you 
 are as clay in the hands of the potter." 
 
 Mrs. Horton was one of those whom 
 Lovel had condemned in his odd, archaic 
 phrases. She "behaved herself proudly," 
 and had the manners and jewels of a queen. 
 I heard her address many, including myself, 
 in a tone of pity. Often her eye seemed to 
 say, "My poor little man! There, take my 
 hand --one has to be generous. Do not 
 stand too long in front of me." 
 
 Her manner bestowed grace, mercy and 
 condemnation as she received her guests. 
 Now and then her eyes seemed to say: "Off 
 goes her head," or "Let her live and we will 
 see how the poor wretch behaves." 
 
 The scion" stood beside her a hand 
 some French youth who was said to be a 
 great-gran (N<>n of one of the Bonapartes. 
 He smiled, and shook hands \\ith her guc>K. 
 hut said nothing. When all were pre>end 
 a group of young ladies gathered about 
 "the scion." 
 
 "A story! tell us a story," one begged, 
 and soon they led him away. 
 
 Miss Horton took me back to her mothe-. 
 
THE MASTER 147 
 
 "We want you to dine with us Sunday 
 evening, at half-past seven," said the grande 
 dame, and her face added: "You will not 
 care to come and, of course, you will say no." 
 
 But I was not to be turned aside. I 
 promptly said that I should be glad to come. 
 
 Then she exclaimed: "How good of you!" 
 and put a sentence of death in her cold 
 smile. 
 
 Miss Horton took my arm and led me into 
 the library. 
 
 "Don t you feel like sitting down by the 
 fire?" she asked. 
 
 "No, thank you," I answered gravely. 
 
 "I want to present you to some of my 
 friends, and you must know the prince. 
 He s a raiser of Pomeranian poodles." She 
 laughed and added: "It s inspiring to hear 
 him talk about poodles." 
 
 We found the Frenchman, presently, in 
 the midst of a number of young ladies. Miss 
 Horton presented me to the group, and I 
 took my seat by the noble foreigner. He 
 was a young man of about twenty-three, 
 large-boned and broad-shouldered, and I 
 thought him a fine figure of a man. To 
 my surprise, however, he addressed me in 
 a thin, treble voice, and delicately felt his 
 
148 THE MASTER 
 
 hair, which was thick and curly and so 
 long that it swept the collar of his coat. He- 
 had well-cut features, pink cheeks, and a 
 >kin as white as a woman s. lie was clearly 
 a favourite of the young ladies, who listened 
 with delight to his tales of court life in the 
 capitals of Kurope, and laughed at his clever 
 mimicry of an aged and eccentric queen. 
 
 Miss Horton came presently and said that 
 before I should go her father would like a 
 word with me. I thought that I must be 
 going, and we returned to his room together. 
 
 "What did you think of the prince?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "A beautiful man!" I said. 
 
 "Almost queenly," she suggested as we 
 entered her father s door. "Was there ever 
 such an imitator of women?" 
 
 "And such a judge of poodles," said the 
 millionaire. "I venture to say that his father 
 before him was a raiser of poodles with 
 pedigrees as lon^ as his own. It s wonderful !" 
 * You re a disgrace to the family with 
 your talk," said the young lady as she play 
 fully shook his shoulder, and bade me good 
 night. 
 
 "Boy, I want to save you from needless 
 embarrassment," said Israel Horton, as he 
 
THE MASTER 149 
 
 stood before me. "You have now a fairly 
 good view of the situation. Think it over. 
 If it should seem too discouraging, why, you 
 can back out. I know it s a good deal of 
 a contract, and if you don t show up on 
 Monday I shall not blame you a bit." 
 
 "I shall be with you if I am able to walk," 
 I assured him. 
 
 "Put love out of your mind and go to 
 work," he said. "Just consider that the 
 marriage you spoke of is impossible, and 
 think only of what you have to do. It may 
 be you ll make yourself worthy of the best 
 girl in the world, when you find her." 
 
 He turned away, and I left his house, full 
 of doubts and fears. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 AT LEAST once a day I called at the shop 
 A\. of the shoemaker. I went in the 
 evening when my work would let me and 
 talked for an hour or so with my friend. 
 Those nights, when at home, he l>arml his 
 door and did without lights and we both 
 had a dread of the dark. II is unreconciled 
 brothers had neither raised a finger nor 
 shown a face, to Lovel or me. But while my 
 friend had no fear he seemed to have no 
 sense of security. lie had asked me to tap 
 on the window-pane instead of the door 
 when I came after dark. 
 
 Saturday had come and we were to while 
 away its end at the Lanthorne. That mor 
 ning, before I was out of bed, a servant came 
 to my door. 
 
 "Please, sir/ he said, "Mr. J. Millerton 
 Crabtree is waiting in the parlour." 
 
 I had almost forgotten Mr. J. Millerton 
 Crabtree the trance poet and describer 
 of human wonders and curiosities and of 
 my promise to try to find a publisher for 
 
 160 
 
THE MASTER 151 
 
 his verse. I made haste to greet him and 
 present my excuses. He began with a proud 
 sneer : 
 
 "I have an imitator a base upstart, 
 who is introducing curiosities in a rival house 
 with the aid of poetry." He added, impres 
 sively, as if it were a piece of impudence 
 unequalled in a generation: "He has copied 
 my reversible poem, word for word." 
 
 I regarded him with silent pity. 
 
 "If I could only find a publisher," he 
 went on, "and reap the fame that belongs 
 to me as a lecturer and a poet, it would, as 
 it were, 
 
 "Glue my fame to my name 
 And stop my rival s cunning game. 
 
 You see how natural it flows from me? I 
 can sometimes carry on a whole conver 
 sation in poetry, as my daughter says. What 
 I want, sir, is to glue my fame to my name. 
 
 "Glue it!" I said; "yes, your fame should 
 be bound and welded to the name of Crab- 
 tree, so that the hand of envy cannot tear 
 it away. I will do what I can at once, this 
 very day, even." 
 
 "A thousand thanks!" he exclaimed with 
 a stage bow, and added: "Would you have 
 the kindness and condescension to see me 
 
152 THE MASTER 
 
 to-night? Could I come here after the last 
 performance of our great congress of curi 
 osities for two minutes, only?" 
 
 I should have to see him that evening, if 
 at all, for next day I was going out of town 
 and would be leaving with Horton early 
 Monday, so I said to Mr. Crabtree that I 
 would see him at the Lanthorne, at mid 
 night, and for that assurance he gave me a 
 grand bow and another " thousand thanks," 
 and relieved me of his presence. 
 
 Our Sunday editor ordered a long sketch 
 of "the bard" with a full exhibit of his 
 poetry, and that evening I went to the School 
 for Novelists with the sketch in my pocket. 
 
 Lovel was there, and every chair at the 
 big table was occupied. The smooth, round 
 face of Colonel Christmas shone with good 
 nature. 
 
 "Kind sirs, it is a time for reflection," 
 said he as he opened the school. " \Yr 
 have eaten, drunk, and been merry, with 
 never a thought of our worthy host who 
 might, for all we knew, have fasted, famished 
 and grown sad. The noble arts of poetry 
 and romance have devoured his substance 
 until he calls for relief. The time h:is 
 come, gentlemen, when the look of our 
 
THE MASTER 153 
 
 money would be more welcome to this patient 
 man than the sound of our eloquence. Here 
 after we must pay as we feast. It gives me 
 pleasure to inform you that a friend of the 
 School for Novelists, whose name I am not 
 at liberty to mention, has promised the sum 
 of three hundred dollars for the liquidation 
 of our debt. He offers a prize, also, of five 
 hundred dollars for the best type of character 
 which any member of the school may 
 imagine, and clearly describe, in the next 
 year, and I am glad to announce that the 
 judge is to be our able and highly esteemed 
 friend, Mr. Ben Lovel. 
 
 " In connection with these noble gifts, he asks 
 that I make a suggestion, namely, that the 
 limit of wine for each plate, at any dinner, 
 be two glasses. You see before you a man 
 chastened by many follies and ready for 
 wiser conduct." 
 
 Loud applause greeted the Colonel as 
 he took his seat, and Darklight proposed 
 three cheers for the unknown friend, which 
 were promptly given. A motion followed 
 the cheers and was carried with a noisy 
 chorus of agreement. 
 
 Somehow the suspicion came to me, and 
 more than once I have wondered why, that 
 
154 THE MASTER 
 
 Lovel was "the unknown friend. Was it 
 possible that the charge I had listened to 
 in the chamber of the Centre Link was in 
 part true? Was Lovel a rich man, and had 
 he become a cobbler that he mi^ht know 
 the toil and the lowly life of the poor? 
 Once before a like query had come to me, 
 but now its tone was a little more confident. 
 
 Tales were read by Pipps and Darklight, 
 and the discussion carried us to the stroke of 
 twelve. Lovel and I left the table, and were 
 emerging under the old Lanthorne when the 
 trance poet intercepted us. I had forgotten 
 my promise, and suggested that I should go 
 back into the tap-room and let him read my 
 sketch. 
 
 "It would be better to take him over to 
 my shop," said the shoemaker, and thither 
 we proceeded. 
 
 We climbed the stairs and entered the 
 small room, now dark as a piM-krt. Lovel 
 led us into the chamber where he slept. 
 Below we could hear our host and our 
 friends talking loudly, as they closed the 
 door of the Lanthorne and walked out of 
 Kerrigan Place. Lovel was feeling for 
 matches, and quickly stopped and stood 
 motionless. 
 
THE MASTER 155 
 
 Then a whispered exclamation from my 
 friend, a quick stir in the darkness, and the 
 sound of muffled blows, and of one falling 
 heavily on the floor. I sprang forward 
 shouting for help. Suddenly it seemed to 
 me that a thunderclap burst out of my head 
 bones and blinded my eyes with lightning. I 
 opened them and rose and looked about me. 
 
 Thank God! I was in my bed at home 
 and it w r as only a dream; I lay back and had 
 my sleep out, rose and ate my breakfast, and 
 was on my way to the shop of my dear friend, 
 and all my past life had begun to flash before 
 me in swift-moving scenes when: 
 
 "He s stirring put the gag on him," 
 I heard a voice say, just above a whisper. I 
 understood, but with the consciousness of 
 the stricken ox, who knows not how to lift 
 his head. 
 
 A rough hand caught my throat, while 
 another forced my jaws apart with a round 
 stick and stuffed my mouth with handker 
 chiefs. I could not move or make a sound. 
 My feet and hands were paining me and, 
 suddenly, I knew that they were bound 
 together. I opened my eyes and saw light 
 with shadows moving in it. I heard a roar like 
 that of falling water, and my brain cleared 
 
156 THE MASTER 
 
 and began to serve me. They had shoved a 
 stick under my knees and above my arms, 
 and locked me in the attitude of a man 
 sitting on the ground with hands clasped 
 over his shin-honr<. My wrisU were aching 
 from the bind of the rope. In this plight I 
 found myself on the bedroom floor unable to 
 speak or make a sound, leaning head and 
 shoulder against the wall. 
 
 A lighted candle stood on the chair beside 
 me. Two men were tiptoeing about the 
 room. I could see my friend lying on the 
 robes of fur that covered his bed and trailed 
 on the floor. His face, now red and swollen, 
 was turned toward me on the pillow. 1 1 is 
 shirt had been torn open and a part of his 
 breast was bare. His arms lay outstretched 
 on either side of him. I tried to call to him, 
 and suddenly I began to tremble and hot 
 tears wrt my face, for something in the prone 
 body reminded me of his "Great Master/ 
 and the spirit of the youth came out of 
 my memory and passed before my eyes, 
 and now, at last, I felt its loveliness and 
 power, and a sense of its value to this 
 needy world of ours. 
 
 Soon I looked at the strange men. They 
 wore masks, and one of them was stuffing rags 
 
THE MASTER 157 
 
 around the window-frames. Suddenly, they 
 dumped me into a big sack, a coarse, ill- 
 odoured gunny sack, so large that its end 
 came well above my head. 
 
 44 Out with the light," one whispered, and 
 the other obeyed, and we were in darkness. 
 
 One drew the sack s end over his shoulder 
 and carried me out of the room. As he did 
 so, I caught the odour of gas. They had 
 killed my friend and opened the gas-cocks so 
 those who found him would think that he 
 had died by his own hand. 
 
 My hope had fallen like a tree, for I had 
 seen their crime, and they would not dare 
 to release me. I gave up and felt sure that I 
 lay in my shroud. 
 
 Well, they bore me to the stair-top, closed 
 the door behind them, and stood and listened 
 for a moment. Far away I could hear the 
 whistle of some river-boat, but no other 
 sound. They carried me down the stairs 
 and flung me into a carriage. We went 
 slowly out of Kerrigan Place, and hurried 
 down the avenue. It was the longest ride 
 that I ever took in my life but, by and by, 
 the carriage halted and they dragged me 
 out of it, where I could hear the wash of 
 the river. One of them flung me over his 
 
158 THE MASTER 
 
 shoulder and began walking. He dropped 
 me, after a little, kicked me, and cursed my 
 weight, for it was then near a hundred and 
 fifty pounds. I could hear a boat chafing 
 on timber and the slap of waves on her side. 
 
 In a second I was being lowered in the air 
 and felt the rub of rough wood on the gunny 
 sack. A hand caught and swung me out 
 a little, and down I banged on the sloping 
 side of a cockpit, as I guessed. There I 
 lay and knew not what was going on about 
 me until I was lifted and flung into water. 
 It washed above my face, and I felt myself 
 drowning. But it seemed that I could not 
 die. I struggled and smothered and con 
 tinued to know and suffer a long, long 
 time, as I thought then. I know now, 
 thai I was being dragged by the boat s side 
 and for not more than three or four minutes. 
 
 Suddenly I heard a voice saying: * 4 What 
 ever is this ere in the water by the boat s 
 side?" and recognized the voice of Rone. 
 
 Then I could feel them hauling me aboard, 
 and it was harshly done. They ripped the 
 i:unny sack and took the gag from my mouth, 
 and w r hat followed in the next two or three 
 hours I knew not, for my eyes and ears and 
 all sense of feeling had ceased to serve me. 
 
CHAPTER XHI 
 
 1 AWOKE in daylight, very stiff and 
 sore, and flat on my back. My feet 
 and hands and mouth were free, thank God, 
 and where was I was it a ship s bunk ? 
 Yes, I could hear the creak of timbers and 
 the wash of waves. I heard a rustle of 
 skirts and soft, retreating footsteps, but saw 
 no one. I turned my head a little and it 
 seemed to have bulged on one side almost 
 to the point of my shoulder. I felt it over 
 with great curiosity and a feeling that re 
 sembled awe. As to the pain it held, that 
 bulge on my head was a horn of plenty. But 
 I shall cease to speak of my woes, save when 
 I must for the sake of my history, for I would 
 not unduly afflict the reader. 
 
 My clothes had been removed and lay on 
 the floor near me. My mind struggled to 
 right itself, and in a second was on its feet, 
 as one may say, and thinking well enough 
 for me, and how swiftly! They had not 
 cared to drown me in the river where my 
 body might be discovered in a day and make 
 
 159 
 
160 THE MASTER 
 
 trouble. Rog Rone would take me far out 
 and drop me, by and by, so that even the 
 keen Napoleon would be none the wiser. 
 I knew that Rone would assert that he had 
 picked me up in the river, but I knew, also, 
 or shrewdly guessed, that my ducking \\;i- 
 only a ruse. I tumbled out of the bunk and 
 felt my swollen wrists and ankles. I could 
 hear the familiar tap of Rone s cane on the 
 deck above. A great fear shook my heart 
 for a second, but I flung it off and took 
 command of myself. My coat and trousers, 
 still damp with river-water, lay on a stool 
 near me. I wallowed into them and dis 
 covered, as I did so, that my money was gone. 
 I thought of my friend, now gone to his long 
 home, I had no doubt, and stood for a moment 
 reeling and sobbing like a child. 
 
 *What had become of that foolish poet who 
 had entered the darkened room with mt 
 Was he also a link of the interminable chain 
 and in league with the radicals ? Or had he 
 run away, as seemed more likely, at the first 
 sign of trouble? 
 
 I thought of Ruth and her father. They 
 would be sure that I had lost heart and 
 deserted them, in the manner of a scared 
 < ur, without a word of regret. I could se< 
 
THE MASTER 161 
 
 the anger of Israel Horton, and the delight of 
 his wife, and knew that Ruth would lose all 
 regard for me. Honestly, these troubles 
 made me forget my peril. I limped to 
 the companionway, not more than a dozen 
 paces from where I stood, and climbed to 
 the deck very weak and sore. I could hear 
 the voice of Rog Rone shouting: "Dod ram 
 yer pictur , Bill Horkins, none o yer monkey 
 tricks, now." 
 
 Then came the tap of his cane, and : 
 
 "Ho there, matey!" his voice roared, and 
 I turned and saw him approaching me. 
 
 I made no answer. 
 
 "Wai, by the jomped up Moses!" he ex 
 claimed. "For a man that has had his 
 life saift an been give medicine an took 
 care of very gentle an pertic lar 
 
 "And sandbagged and robbed of his 
 money," I interrupted him to suggest, in a 
 spirit of utter recklessness. 
 
 "Hold hard, my pippin," said Rog Rone 
 with a stern wink. 
 
 His face came forward and I could hear 
 
 the grating of his teeth as he looked at me. 
 
 You git on the high ropes here an you ll 
 
 take a walk up Ladder Lane an down 
 
 Hemp Street, and do it suddent, cappy. I 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 ain t done nothink to you hut safe yer life, 
 so I ain t, an what do you do but grab an 
 ax an hack me, as ye might say, which 
 ain t no way to treat a friend -- is it now?" 
 
 His heavy cane seemed to curse and 
 threaten with sundry taps on the deck, as he 
 addressed me. 
 
 "What became of my money?" I asked. 
 
 "Look a here, I don t know nothink at all 
 about it," said Rog Rone impatiently. "You 
 nnisl a been out on a gent s holiday an 
 been robbed an flung in the river, an was 
 too mean t sink --that s what pears t me." 
 
 He turned and left me with such a look 
 of injured innocence that I could not help 
 laughing. 
 
 Nobody, save this old pirate and two of 
 his friends, knew of what had befallen me, 
 or that my port was the deep sea bottom. 
 It was all a modest and quite a safe sort of 
 piracy, and had been, perhaps, highly useful 
 in the old secret work of the Chain. I could 
 see in it the explanation of many mysteries. 
 
 Some one brushed against me and fell, 
 and a pail of potatoes scattered across the 
 deck. A girl -- the cook s helper as I learned 
 that day - - knelt beside me and began to pick 
 them up. 
 
THE MASTER 163 
 
 "Say, boss," she whispered, "don t make 
 no row or you ll git a crack on the head, 
 an then Cap n Rog 11 throw ye over. You 
 be careful an do as he says." 
 
 Meanwhile, she picked up the potatoes and 
 made off with them, having done me a great 
 service, for then and there I began to use 
 my wits. In a moment my plan was made. 
 
 I felt weak and returned to my bunk and 
 lay undisturbed in a sound sleep until even 
 ing. I awoke much refreshed and went to 
 Rone and offered to help in the ship s work, 
 if there was anything that I could do. He 
 asked me into the cabin and said coolly, as 
 we stood by the table: "Take a chair, 
 sonny." 
 
 Then he said that he had found me floating 
 in a sack off the battery. 
 
 "I opened my mouth an bellered when 
 I seen it was you, matey hope t die if I 
 didn t," said the old wretch, as if he really 
 thought that he was fooling me, "an I 
 says to myself, I says: * They ve robbed an 
 chloryformed him an give him over to the 
 sharks like you d toss a bone to a dog 
 so they have, an I drawed ye into my boat 
 an saift yer life, an that s the God s truth, 
 pippin." 
 
1G4 THE MASTER 
 
 "Yes, you saved my life -- there s no 
 doubt of that and I wonder what you re 
 driving at." 
 
 I thought that he saw my distrust in my 
 eyes then, for he sat looking into my face and 
 winked playfully. Somehow it reminded me 
 of a cat playing with a nimi-r. 
 
 "I wouldn t wonder but what you was 
 good leather, pippin!" he exclaimed as he 
 looked me over. "Now, like as not you 
 could be scraped an caulked an tightened, 
 mind, so as ye d hold water, an painted over 
 an made a cook of or or a sailor." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 "Why, sonny, it might be it just might 
 be, if ye looked good an tight an seaworthy, 
 that Cap n Hog o the Susq would give ye 
 a job." 
 
 "Suppose I give you oner" I proposed, 
 seeing my chance at la>t. 
 
 "What!" said he. 
 
 "Suppose I give you a job that will be 
 likely to put a wad in every one of your 
 pockets, and another to draw from big 
 enough to fill a feather-bed P M 
 
 "Wai, what s yer ladink?" he demanded 
 with a running smile. 
 
 I began with that night when the mute 
 
THE MASTER 165 
 
 messenger came to me in Liverpool, and I 
 gave all the known factors in my old, hope- 
 breaking mystery. I put my heart in the 
 telling, and before I was done with it old 
 Rog Rone was leaning forward on his elbows 
 and staring into my face. I dwelt at some 
 length on the fortune, which, as I had reason 
 to hope, was awaiting me. I omitted no 
 touch of colour that belonged to the story, 
 and told it so well, for one of my practice in 
 such a matter, that he smote the table when 
 I had finished, and then: 
 
 "Spank along!" he shouted. "Blow yer 
 bazoo." 
 
 Now, at last, I had him by the ears - 
 nay, even by the soul, in a manner of speaking, 
 and why not? This man was for sale to the 
 highest bidder, and the thought of hidden 
 treasure appealed to him. 
 
 "I can t go on I m at the end of my 
 rope," I said. "If you want any more you ll 
 have to help me unravel the mystery." 
 
 "If ye can find him he ll give ye some 
 money," said Rog Rone, with a wink. "The 
 dear ol man has got the billyrocks, an I 
 wouldn t wonder." 
 
 The idea of a waiting fortune caught and 
 clung to him like a barbed hook. He limped 
 
166 THE MASTER 
 
 up and down the cabin for a moment, and 
 then flung an atlas on the table. 
 
 "The letter was writ March the third," 
 said he, dropping into a chair. "The bearer 
 started that day. The Northland must a 
 left New York on the eight* or nint to 
 reach Liverpool March nineteen that s 
 sure as a headache after a day ashore." 
 
 As I added more details the old captain sat 
 smoking thoughtfully, his stiff leg on a stool. 
 Soon he looked up at me and said with a 
 wink: 
 
 !< Well, pippin, I ve got some other bu>inexs 
 ahead. When that s done I ll ship with ye 
 an divvy even if ye pay the expenses. Can 
 ye raise the wind fer a few hundred ?" 
 
 "I ll try, * was my answer. 
 
 "Friends fer life, shipmate! he exclaimed 
 as he begun groping in the drawer of an old 
 table. 
 
 lie found a pair of compasses and tied a 
 lead pencil to one leg of them. Then, having 
 spread his atlas on the table, he fixed the 
 point of the other leg on the city of New York. 
 
 "Look a here, matey," said the captain. 
 
 Yer dear uncle is somewhere from four to 
 
 five hundred mile fin New York, nn 
 
 as easy as t count the wings on a gull." 
 
THE MASTER 167 
 
 I wondered why he should think so, being 
 ignorant of his advantage in a perfect knowl 
 edge of the facts. 
 
 " There s a lot of country from four to five 
 hundred miles from New York," I suggested. 
 
 "C rect!" he exclaimed. "But I ve an 
 idee where to begin work, as the lady said 
 when the flea bit her." 
 
 He began to whistle an old chanty as he 
 took the scale an inch for every hundred 
 miles, if I remember rightly and measured 
 a radius of four hundred miles from New 
 York on the atlas, and swung the pencilled 
 leg of his compasses through an arc some 
 two thousand miles in length. With a 
 radius of five hundred miles he described a 
 new arc, and between the two lay a curving 
 zone one hundred miles wide. 
 
 The captain ran his finger along the arc 
 that swept through the wooded regions of 
 Canada. We began searching that part of 
 our zone and in a moment he had found Lac 
 Creche, which lay northwest of Quebec. 
 
 "That s where we steer, cappy," said Hog 
 Rone with another wink at me. 
 
 " W 7 hy there ? " I asked. 
 
 " Aint them the letters ? an aint I reckoned 
 the distance an don t I know bout where to 
 
168 THE MASTER 
 
 land, as the lady said when she cuffed the 
 gentlemen ? " 
 
 I doubted his conclusion a little, but had 
 no suspicion of it. I sat thinking of my own 
 dullness, for I had spent a year of fruitless 
 effort with this problem and held my tongue 
 for shame, and the fear of losing all that I 
 haJ gained. 
 
 An oil-stone lay on the table and he took 
 out his dirk and began to whet it. His 
 head swayed as the dirk flew back and forth, 
 over the whetstone. Soon lie began to sing 
 in a doleful tone: 
 
 Come mates, I ll tell ye where an \\lu-n 
 I -<--n tin- llood of a hundred men, 
 An left my blade in the .skipi>er neek 
 To dodge his ghost on a slippery deck. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 An I hearn the wiminen squeal, 
 An* the Devil had hold o the wheel. 
 Hi- >ailed IUT \\ell 
 An our port wa^ Hell 
 
 Way down in the straits o Hemp, my lada, 
 Jn the red-hot straits o Hemp. 
 
 Soon he rose and bade me stay there, while 
 he went out for a look at the men. In a 
 moment I heard him say in a loud, com 
 plaining voice, as he limped away: 
 
 "Dod ram yer pictur , Bill Horkins!" 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 NEXT morning the Cap n bade me go 
 ask the cook what I could do for her. 
 Ours was a "lady cook," one Mrs. Larriper, 
 a robust Irish \voman of a stern nature and 
 some two hundred pounds of bone and 
 muscle. It was her first cruise on the Susq, 
 and she set me scrubbing the fo c sle and 
 cabins, v:hich resembled a pigsty in look and 
 odour. 
 
 "It s the dirtiest old tub that ever ploughed 
 water," she said to me. "I took the place 
 to give a bit o fresh air to the gal as needed 
 it the way I d do ag in if there was nothin 
 else t do in the worruld. But we didn t 
 know the looks o the ship or the crew, an 
 come aboard in the night, an whin we 
 wanted to go back didn t the ol divvle tell 
 us we d have t swim?" 
 
 Her daughter was a blue-eyed, slender 
 maiden of the name of Wave light-footed 
 as a deer. Her feet always ran and her 
 brown curls flying in the breeze put me in 
 mind of sea spray. She was like the restless 
 
170 THE MASTER 
 
 waves in the midst of which, as her mother 
 told me, the girl had first seen the light and 
 grown to maidenhood. It was she who had 
 warned me when I first stood on the deck 
 of this dirty old tub of wickedness. 
 
 The Susq had a vile-looking crew --a 
 lot of half-dressed, cursing roustabouts, 
 willing to serve any master for any pay, 
 if the grog were ample, and in that matter 
 Rog Rone was generous. He gave to the 
 men almost as freely as he gave to himself, 
 and for a number of days there were loud 
 words and fighting in the foVsle and on the 
 deck even. Often I have seen him wave 
 his cane over the head of the first mate, and 
 hoard his familiar shout: "Dod ram yer 
 pirtur , Bill Horkins," coupled with threats 
 and curses. Horkins would dod^e the cane 
 and make no answer, or, at least, none that 
 I ever heard. 
 
 It was Mrs. Larriper who pulled things up 
 with a turn. Cap n Rog had run up behind 
 Horkins, and struck him down with the 
 heavy cane he carried. The mate lay stunned 
 and helpless, and what more the Cap n 
 would have done, I shall never know, . for 
 before he could strike airaiiu Mrs. Larriper 
 had him by the hair of his head and gave 
 
THE MASTER 171 
 
 him a whirl that brought him down hard on 
 the boards. She seized his cane and shook her 
 fist in his face, and summed up his character 
 with a phrase quite as apt as it was vulgar. 
 
 "Clear out o me sight or I ll throw 
 ye over the ship s side ye drunken slob, 
 ye!" she shouted as she swung her big arms 
 that were able, as he knew, to make good 
 her promise. 
 
 "An I an every man on the ship 11 stan 
 by ye, an he knows it, too," said the mate 
 as he rose. 
 
 She gave him a look that made him take 
 a step backward. 
 
 "Every man!" she shouted. "As if by 
 
 G as if they was a man in the whole pack 
 
 o yez. Get out o me sight, ye sore-eyed 
 villain!" 
 
 The mate slunk away as Hog Rone rose 
 to his feet. 
 
 "Here, take yer little pipe cleaner," she 
 said to him as she put the cane in his hand. 
 "If ye ever raise it to me I ll break it over 
 yer head, man, an I ll double ye up Eke a 
 jack-knife an put ye into me pocket 
 jisht! If ye don t run the ship I will, an 
 there ll be no more grog this cruise 
 remember that now." 
 
172 THE MASTER 
 
 "All right, lady!" he answered as he looked 
 at me and winked and beckoned with his 
 head. I followed him into his cabin. 
 
 "Now did ye ever see the likes o this ere 
 lady-bird?" he asked confidentially. "I 
 never could fight a lady, no way. She s a 
 navy ship full-rigged an reg lar, an well 
 braced an all timbers sound, with guns at 
 her ports an her hold full o powder, an 
 stan s up very proud an graceful, I say/ 
 
 "And it takes a good man to command 
 her," I suggested. 
 
 "The queen o women!" he exclaimed 
 with a playful wink. "Wonderful tidy an 
 knows her business. Her pa was a sailor an 
 she was born at sea an so was her gal." 
 
 There was little grog drinking after that, 
 and the Cap n treated the "lady rook" 
 with a gentleness and gallantry of which I 
 would not have thought him capable, and 
 did everything in his power to make her 
 task easy. 
 
 He had been well within the truth when he 
 called her a tidy woman. She had got the 
 ship dean and was keeping it so. The men 
 had grown careful, since one of them had 
 been slapped by her for a case of expectora 
 tion at once copious and indiscreet. They 
 
THE MASTER 173 
 
 picked up their litter, and spat over the side, 
 and obeyed her orders. It paid them, for 
 she was in command of the Cap n, presently, 
 and could do about as she pleased, and that 
 was very well, as we all agreed. She made 
 the most of the ship s stores and better 
 cooking I have rarely known at sea, and she 
 loved to hear us say that we liked it, and 
 would sit half the night mending a man s 
 trousers. 
 
 Well, under command of the super- 
 cap n, as I called the cook, the old Susq 
 and all aboard her began to mend. Cap n 
 Rog himself - - wretched old hypocrite that 
 he was grew amiable and talked of sacred 
 themes. He often read from an old, greasy 
 Bible, in the evening, and made comments 
 on the subject in hand which were droll and 
 copious and almost genial. More than once, 
 I asked myself, why he, of all men, should 
 have found amusement in piety, and my 
 conclusion was that he wished to improve his 
 standing with the "lady cook." He would 
 sometimes send for her in the evening after 
 her work w r as finished, and when she appeared 
 at the door of his cabin, he would say: 
 
 " Welcome welcome, Mrs. Larriper 
 come right in. We re about t read the 
 
171 THE MASTER 
 
 scriptur s, Mrs. Larriper, which as I often 
 say, don t do no hurt if it don t do no good." 
 
 She would sit down with a look on her 
 face that seemed to say: "\Yell, go on. I m 
 not surprised at anything you do." 
 
 The Cap n would take a chair and rest 
 his stiff leg in another, and adjust his spec 
 tacles and begin with a query. 
 
 **Wio tol the first lie, Mrs. Larriper?" 
 he asked one evening as he began the lesson, 
 with a squint on one side of his face by way 
 of restraining the energy of his thought. 
 
 "I think it would be the first man that 
 ever opened his mouth -- jisht!" she answered 
 with a look of impatience. 
 
 "A snake, Mrs. Larriper," Cap n Rog 
 declared. " The woman said the serpent 
 beguiled me an* I did eat," he read and 
 added: "A snake tol the first lie an the 
 trouble started. He learnt us how --so he 
 did. After that, Adam an Eve saw their 
 nakedness an was shamed, Mrs. Larriper, 
 u they orter been. If it hadn t been fer 
 this ere lie there wouldn t none o us be 
 obleeged t die, an God s word fer it. Eve 
 orter minded her business. The Lord 
 warned her fair an plain; she goes an 
 shins right up the tree as soon as He was 
 
THE MASTER 175 
 
 out o sight, an made a grab fer the first 
 apple in reach an bit right into it. That s 
 like a woman." 
 
 He laughed and shook his head as if 
 convinced that she had made a bad mess 
 of it, but not to his surprise, however. 
 
 "Some say it was an orange that Eve 
 bit," Cap n Rog went on, "but I don t b lieve 
 it. Apples is more apt to make trouble. 
 Take the juice out of em an by n by the 
 devil is in it." 
 
 He passed to the crime of Cain, and said 
 when he had finished the chapter: "They 
 fit cause they hadn t much work t do an 
 that s very likely, Mrs. Larriper. Men has 
 t have suthink t hammer on. Them days 
 they didn t have no nails ner drums, ner 
 anvils, so they hammered each other. If 
 men have nothink else t do they ll make 
 black eyes an swellinks - - I dare presume 
 t say. It s like a man, Mrs. Larriper. 
 Had t whack an hammer. Couldn t set 
 around an take it easy an behave 
 theirselves." 
 
 Again he shook his head and let out a wise 
 and sorrowful laugh. 
 
 The Cap n read how when men had multi 
 plied and daughters were born to them, they 
 
17G THE MASTER 
 
 saw that women were fair, and that it was not 
 good for man to live alone. Cap n Rog 
 paused and looked very wise and said: 
 
 44 Now this ere is an idee an* no mistake, 
 Mrs. Larriper. It s the first sign o good 
 sense that ever came out on a man. He s 
 got to have some one to l>r larhrd to er 
 he ll go adrift, an what happens? He moves 
 hellwards he does devil at the helm 
 an a fair wind. Man that cooks his own 
 grub 11 swear when he eats it, an a man 
 that mends his own britches 11 tear holes 
 in his character, an a man that darns his own 
 socks 11 damn em from top to toe, an that s 
 true as the good book, Mrs. Larriper. Fact 
 is, men wa n t made fer that kind o business. 
 Try t make a bear saw wood an what 
 happens, Mrs. Larriper? Ye ll spoil the 
 bear if ye try hard nough, I dare presume 
 t say. Men an women was made t pair 
 up, Mrs. Larriper an that s as plain as 
 the nose on yer fare." 
 
 He wiped his large nose with his hand 
 kerchief, and looked earnestly at the 4< lady 
 cook." 
 
 "It is," she answered quickly, 4< an what s 
 more, I d say it was plain as the nose on 
 your face -- jisht!" 
 
THE MASTER 177 
 
 Cap n Rog shook with laughter and smote 
 the table by way of applause, and looked 
 at me to observe my thought of her answer. 
 
 "Now, think o these ere sailors, Mrs. 
 Larriper," he went on. "We all fight an 
 swaller grog an raise the devil. Whatever s 
 the reason, I d like t know? They ve lived 
 without ladies comp ny, an there s the 
 trouble, Mrs. Larriper. No gals hold o 
 the tow-line, as ye might say. No purty 
 thoughts an gentle feelinks nobody t cuff 
 their ears an pull their hair an jaw em, an 
 keep em tidy. Men like that from anybody 
 that loves em so they do." 
 
 "Men are like p taties - - jisht ! " said Mrs. 
 Larriper. "They re better when ye take 
 the skins off em." 
 
 Again the Cap n laughed and smote the 
 table. 
 
 If he ventured any franker compliment 
 on these occasions she would rise with 
 impatient looks and hurry out of the cabin. 
 
 So my bitterness found some faint relief in 
 this odd bit of comedy, and slowly my dread of 
 the future wore away. "Cap n Larriper" 
 - to use a title which Rone himself con 
 ferred had the ship well in hand. She 
 was my friend, too, and many a whispered 
 
178 THE MASTER 
 
 conference in the galley when I went down 
 to help her. furthered our acquaintance. 
 
 "He s got a streak o mush in him the 
 oF ninnyhammer!" she said to me. * Ye 
 ean turn his head with the shake of a 
 petticoat." 
 
 She was right. Cap n Larriper had found 
 the tendon of Achilles, and was very wise 
 in the use of her ad\ , and for a time, 
 
 at least, we knew how to manage him. 
 
 I learned soon that we were on our way 
 to Quebec with a load of <<>al. \Ve ran 
 into rough weather after the fourth day 
 and adverse winds drove us far out, so that 
 we found ourselves, one evening, a week 
 later, somewhere about half-way from St. 
 John to Liverpool. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE Susq had been built for the cotton 
 trade and had on her deck-house 
 a large copper tank which had been kept 
 full of water for use in case of fire. With 
 the aid of this tank, the Cap n explained to 
 me, one could carry a stream of water into 
 any part of her hold. I had found the old 
 pump and hose and pipes, and made a 
 boiler, and connected it with the galley 
 stove and, to the delight of Mrs. Larriper, 
 was soon able to fill the abandoned tank 
 with hot water for cleaning. 
 
 It will be remembered that I had had 
 some training in the tinker s art, and it 
 lifted me into high repute on the Susque- 
 hanna. There was no peace aboard unless 
 the decks were clean as a rolling-pin, and 
 my way was far easier and more effective 
 than bailing from the sea. Even the Cap n 
 and the crew had begun to brighten up a 
 little. They were neater in face, hands and 
 dress since the super-cap n had come to 
 her rightful place. I sometimes think that 
 
 179 
 
180 THE MASTER 
 
 their souls were a bit cleaner in this new 
 environment. There were, indeed, some 
 >i t ^ns of a better nature in every man of 
 them. 
 
 44 It s awful!" said Horkins, in a con 
 fidential talk with ine. "Ye have to speak 
 proper an think twict, an* git up an travel 
 afore ye can let the spit out o yer face. It s 
 hard on them as chaws terbaccer, I say; 
 an think on it, if ye swear above a whisper 
 like as not ye get half-rations an a crack 
 on the ear. I got one t other day an it 
 feels as if it was wilted. Ye can t fight 
 her. She d lick any six men that ever 
 walked an then, ye see, she s a lady. It s 
 awful, sir, she s got us all in her pocket. 
 I didn t hire out to work in no parlour, mind 
 ye. Not one on us has had a drop o ^ 
 in two weeks, an we was promised it every 
 day when we shipped with him --we was 
 
 -the rotten old molly chaser! He s gone 
 an fell in love with the cook - that s what 
 I done- and she leads him like as if 
 she had a string on his neck. She ll throw 
 him over one o these days - - you see. It 
 was very funny when he fetched you aboard 
 
 - so I thought, an so I says t them as 
 didn t see it. He d been out alone in a 
 
THE MASTER 181 
 
 boat an , by an by, he comes up alongside 
 an sings out. I went down the ladder an 
 we two fetched ye up. Ton my word, 
 man, I thought ye was dead. 
 
 " Here s a man I ve picked up in the 
 river, an I think he s a friend o mine, 
 says he. 
 
 " The man is drownded, says I. 
 
 " Lay him in a bunk an I guess he ll 
 come to, says he. 
 
 "Then up anchors an away. Now that 
 didn t look right t me, an I says to one o 
 the men Why didn t he put him ashore ? 
 I says. 
 
 "All that night the lady an her gal sot 
 there a-rubbin an a warmin of ye with 
 hot rags. She got leary o the oP fox, so it 
 looked t me. I seen him go mussin round 
 the bunk, an she give him a shove an sent 
 him half acrost the cabin. Guess they had 
 an idee that things wa n t just as they orter 
 be on this ship, an they kep an eye on 
 ye I ll give em credit for that." 
 
 So the blank in my memory had been 
 filled and my heart as well with a keener 
 appreciation of the "lady cook," and her 
 daughter. They had the woman s heart in 
 them, after all, the heart that melts with 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 pity and impels the hand to bestow Cod s 
 mercy and tenderness. But for their kind 
 ness what would have been my fate? A 
 baby could have smothered me in a moment 
 when I lay helpless between life and death. 
 Then the ship s burial and losses which I 
 try in vain to measure, as I think of them. 
 Moral decency had walked aboard thai 
 ship in woman s clothes, and, armed with a 
 sufficient and peculiar power, had prevailed. 
 Crime and all uncleanness had hidden their 
 heads, for a time at least. 
 
 I found Mrs. Larriper in the galley, and said : 
 
 44 1 have learned of all that you did for 
 me, that night, and I want to thank you. 
 It has put me under an obligation that I 
 can never discharge." 
 
 44 Who put that in yer noddle?" she asked, 
 with a look of annoyance. 
 
 "The first mate." 
 
 "Thafe o the world!" she exclaimed. 
 4 The pot an the kittle have got in a scrap. 
 Sure it was the gal who seen em bring ye 
 aboard, an I found her a sit tin there by 
 yer bunk with a lantern a-ruhbiif yer forward 
 like I ve seen her do to her father, when 
 he d be sick at sea, as he was many a time. 
 She took care o ye, man, an all I done was 
 
THE MASTER 183 
 
 t* kape the ol hawk away--jisht! She 
 wouldn t give up that ye was dead." 
 
 Mrs. Larriper bustled about the galley as 
 she spoke, and I stood as dumb as a wooden 
 Indian, with a lump in my throat. 
 
 "We re all bate an broke an dummy- 
 fuddled since the loss o me man," said the 
 super-cap n. >( We ve lived ashore an the 
 gal was like a bird in a cage, an I couldn t 
 kape the brats away f m her. I can take the 
 skin off a pirate an hang it up on a line - 
 I m used to the likes of em --but a gal 
 that holds yer heart in her hand like as 
 if it was a little bird gits the best o me 
 an man, man, I m at her mercy!" 
 
 Mrs. Larriper s voice broke and she 
 paused to wipe her eyes w r ith her apron. 
 
 "But if I do say it," she went on, "the 
 gal has a good heart in her, an I m thinkin 
 she ll be better off at sea, though God 
 knows, I want a dacent ship an no pirates t* 
 worry me life away." 
 
 A little sympathy and a few kind w r ords 
 have a great power in them. After that 
 talk \vith her she washed the blankets in 
 my bunk and scoured its wood-work and 
 surprised me with special recognition in 
 her cooking. 
 
184 THE MASTER 
 
 Things went very well with us until, one 
 day, we found ourselves in a fog and no hand 
 at the bellows, and the crew drunk, and 
 little being done, save in the fo c s le, and 
 there they were making history. One man 
 had been stabbed and pursued to the galley 
 door, at the bc^iiiiiiiir () f the second dog- 
 \\ateh. The super-cap n had taken charge 
 of him ami hound up lii> wounds and laid 
 him out on the floor. The other men were 
 now in the fo c s le, cursing and shouting 
 loud threats aimed at the ears of Rone. I 
 went to the Cap n s door and opened it. 
 He sat smoking, with a sword and two pistols 
 on the table at his side. 
 
 ""Where s Bill Horkin^ - dod rani his 
 pictur ?" he asked. 
 
 " Drunk in the fo c s le," I said. 
 
 "Fetch him here to me." 
 
 "Excuse me, sir, but I think he would be 
 more likely to obey you," I answered. 
 
 "Fetch Cap n Larriper," he commanded 
 rather nervously. 
 
 I ran to the galley for my good friend. 
 
 "Glad to see you, Mrs. Larriper," he said 
 as the "lady cook" appeared at his door. 
 
 "I m not glad t see you then ye oP sea 
 rat! What did ye go give em the grog for?" 
 
THE MASTER 185 
 
 " 1 didn t," said Rog Rone. "They bu st 
 into my stores so they did an stole 
 a cask o gin my very best gin Mrs. 
 Larriper." 
 
 "Come with me an him into the fo c s le 
 an we ll make em give it up," the super- 
 cap n suggested. 
 
 "It would be onsaift, Mrs. Larriper, very 
 onsaift," the Cap n whispered. "Them 
 men means harm they do they ll chop 
 our heads off or throw us over the side, like 
 as not, Mrs. Larriper, if we don t look out 
 for em." 
 
 The super-cap n laughed. "I ll have to 
 look out, indade I will," said she. "By 
 the powers ! they might throw our heads 
 in the same basket! Come, manny, you go 
 hide under yer bunk like a nice little boy an 
 we ll protict ye." 
 
 Mrs. Larriper and I started for the 
 fo c s le. 
 
 "Coward!" she exclaimed as soon as we 
 were out on the deck. "He s a great fighter 
 whin he s ten to one, or his enemy is back 
 to him or has his hands tied. Then it s 
 a caution how he can swing the sword!" 
 
 The men looked surprised as we boldly 
 invaded their quarters. Their loud talk and 
 
186 THE MASTER 
 
 a ribald song ceased abruptly. The fo c s le 
 had resumed its old aspect of the cattle- 
 pen. The men, bleary-eyed, were sprawling 
 on their bunks. They looked at me, sullen 1\ , 
 and not a word was said until Cap n Larriper 
 put her hand on the cask and said very 
 calmly : 
 
 "Boys, I ve tried to tratr yez right, an* 
 if yez ave no respec for the Cap n yez ll 
 have a little fer me an the gal. I want yc/ 
 should roll this out on the deck an throw 
 it overboard - -jisht! Come, now -me 
 hearties!" 
 
 The first mate rose with an oath and got 
 astride the cask and said: 
 
 "We all love ye, Cap n, but we ll take no 
 orders f m you not none at all. The ol 
 liar promised easy times an six rounds o 
 grog a day for ev ry man, an if he won t 
 give it, we re goin to help ourselves, an 
 we re all of a mind here. You an yer friend 
 an yer gal go into the galley an shut the 
 door, an* stay there, an* ye ll be let alone. 
 Mind what I say, now." 
 
 "An did yez never hear o the stra ; ts o 
 Hemp?" Cap n Larriper asked calmly. 
 "Sure, man, yez are on yer way there, an 
 if yez are lookin fer trouble yez ll find a 
 
THE MASTER 187 
 
 plenty right here on the ol ship. Yez ll 
 take yer orders fm me, boys, an mind yez 
 do what I tell yez. Go t bed quiet now an 
 be ready fer work at the mornin watch, an 
 yer grub 11 be waitin an every man 11 be 
 used right. I don t care the snap o me 
 finger for that ol brat in the cabin, but 
 mind yez now, kape hold o yerselves. It s 
 mutiny yez are up to an that ll not be 
 tolerayted." 
 
 She motioned me on ahead of her and we 
 made our way to the deck. Her face had 
 been white with anger, but she had wisely 
 kept herself well in hand. The fog had 
 lifted and the sun was down to sea level. 
 Cap n Rog stood looking out of his cabin 
 door with a revolver in each hand. 
 
 "What did they say, Mrs. Larriper?" 
 he whispered as we approached him. 
 
 "Sure, they re goin t tie yer hands an 
 feet an haul ye up be the neck to the mast 
 head jisht," she answered with a show of 
 impatience. 
 
 I found a moment s joy in the craven look 
 of the old sea-dog. 
 
 "We d better shut ourselves up in this 
 cabin an fight, as long as we re able, Mrs. 
 Larriper," he suggested. "They ll change 
 
188 THE MASTER 
 
 their minds, an I wouldn t wonder. What s 
 yer idee?" 
 
 * I ll go bring em up, wan by wan, an 
 turn their backs an then ye can run up 
 an cut off their heads. Ye d like that 
 now -- wouldn t ye?" said Mrs. Larriper 
 with a playful contempt. 
 
 You will have your joke, Mrs. Larriper, 
 which it ain t no time for, as I have often 
 said - when there s trouble at sea, an that s 
 as true as the blessed Bible, so it is," said 
 Rog Rone. 
 
 "Will ye fight, man?" asked the 
 super-cap n. 
 
 Till the last drop o blood is drained out 
 o me, an that ye d know, if ye knowed 
 me better, Mrs. Larriper." 
 
 "Come on w r ith yer s won Is an popguns, 
 an w T e ll take our place by the side o the 
 deck-house, here, manny," the good woman 
 whispered. 
 
 As Cap n Rog disappeared in his cabin, 
 Mrs. Larriper imparted this information to 
 me: "They ll be after the ol snake soon 
 as dark comes. Didn t the man that was 
 cut tell me all about it ? We ll have t 
 bate them or the diwle will take the helm. 
 You kape the fire goin an the water hot an 
 
THE MASTER 189 
 
 put a big squirt in the tank, boy, soon as ever 
 ye can. Me an the gal has got t clane the 
 deck. There s blood a plenty on the port 
 side where the boy was cut, an I want the 
 ship t be lookin nate in the mornin ." 
 
 The crew was growing noisier in the 
 fo c s le. Cap n Rog limped out of his door 
 with pistols and broadswords in a basket. 
 He looked at me very soberly, and winked 
 and passed me a loaded pistol, and I shoved 
 it into my pocket, as I turned in to the 
 galley. The room was hot as a Turkish 
 bath, and the range tanks full of boiling 
 water. I started the pump and kept the 
 hot water flowing for about half an hour. 
 Darkness had come, and Wave had struck 
 the lights. I heard the tramp and voices 
 of men on the deck, and ran to the side of 
 the super-cap n. She was on her knees 
 scrubbing, with the hose in her hand. I 
 slipped a little as I approached and went 
 on my hands and knees, and saw that the 
 deck had been smeared with soft-soap. 
 
 Mrs. Larriper heard them coming and 
 got to her feet and whispered: 
 
 "Go into the cabin there with the gal 
 an the Cap n, quick now. Kape yer guns 
 still, till I give ye the word." 
 
190 THE MASTER 
 
 I wanted to stand by and fight with her, 
 but suddenly I comprehended the plan of 
 the super-cap n, and made haste to obey 
 her orders. She came close to the cabin 
 door, and I could hear the men slipping and 
 a heavy fall on the soaped deck. In a 
 second two or three had gone down in the 
 soap. 
 
 "Back with yez--back t yer quarters, 
 men," I heard Mrs. Larriper say, as they 
 approached her. 
 
 A wild burst of laughter was the only 
 answer that I could hear. 
 
 "Go t yer quarters, I say, an none o yer 
 tommy-traverse. What! yez ll show a knife 
 t me?" 
 
 We heard a burst of steam and the hiss 
 of hot water, and hasty footfalls, and men 
 tumbling headlong, and cries loud as pistol 
 shots, and holy names mounting above the 
 din. We ran to the side of Mrs. Larriper. 
 The men had gone down in a heap where 
 she had been scrubbing. 
 
 The super-cap n had stopped the deadly 
 spray of hot water and stood holding the 
 hose end, that was wrapped in flannel. 
 
 "If wan o yez pulls a gun," she shouted, 
 "I ll stew his head off him that I will." 
 
THE MASTER 191 
 
 Cap n Rog made a rush with his broad 
 sword, and had begun to slash right and 
 left at the helpless men before we could 
 stop him. Mrs. Larriper caught him by 
 the nape of his neck in a jiffy and brought 
 him down. Men with heads and faces half- 
 cooked, I fancy, were groaning as they 
 crawled away on their hands and knees, 
 like so many pigs. Others lay stunned and 
 helpless where they had fallen. 
 
 "Take the hose, Wave, an we ll grab 
 their knives an pistols quick now," the 
 super-cap n shouted as her hand dove into 
 a man s pocket. Cap n Rog and I jumped 
 to obey the order and had seized the weapons 
 of two scalded men and flung them into the 
 sea, when I saw the first mate turn quickly 
 and make a lunge at the "lady cook" with 
 his knife. She caught him by his working 
 wrist and the seat of his trousers and carried 
 him a few paces and flung him into the 
 fo c s le and a part of her skirt went with him. 
 
 Another man had got to his knees, and 
 put a bullet through my left arm, when 
 the devil ran away with us. The Cap n 
 was yelling and chopping with his broad 
 sword, and I in hot pursuit of a man who 
 had scrambled up and was running for the 
 
192 THE MASTER 
 
 fo c s le. I felled him with a blow on his 
 head, and he tumbled in a heap on the 
 weather-boards of the open door. I came 
 to with my head in a swirl and Mrs. Lar- 
 riper s hand on my shoulder. 
 
 "That ll do that ll do, boy," she was 
 saying. "Come with me, now." 
 
 She carried a lantern in her hand, and 
 Rog Rone was beside her. 
 
 "You stand here with yer dough-trimmer, 
 little man, an mind ye kape em inside," 
 said the good woman. 
 
 We left the Cap n at the fo c s le door 
 and began to explore the deck. We found 
 a man lying with his swollen head on one 
 of the anchor chains. Mrs. Larriper took 
 away his knife and pistol, and helped him 
 to his feet very tenderly. 
 
 "Poor lad! come with me, now -that - 
 a good boy an I ll be yer mother - 
 please God till yer out o yer trouble," 
 she gently urged as she led him along. 
 
 There were no more of the scalded crew 
 outside the fo c s le, save three who lay in 
 the soaped area, dead or dying from their 
 wounds, and those in the galley, and him 
 I had done for. We could hear groans 
 inside, as we passed the fo c s le door, where 
 
THE MASTER 193 
 
 were Wave and Rog Rone, the latter very 
 alert with his cane in one hand, his bloody 
 broadsword in the other. Our battle was 
 won, for we knew that we had little to fear 
 from the men who had gone to cover. I 
 followed Mrs. Larriper and her charge to 
 the galley, where she covered the face and 
 neck of the afflicted man with oil, and laid 
 him beside his mate on the floor. 
 
 There is little more which the reader 
 will need to know of those black days on 
 the Susquehanna. How first we cleaned the 
 store-room of its grog and threw it into the 
 sea; how the "lady cook" and her daughter 
 helped in the burial of two, who put off 
 on their last cruise about midnight; how 
 at daybreak, Mrs. Larriper bravely entered 
 the fo c s le, armed with coffee and toast, 
 porridge and potatoes and bacon, and a 
 cheerful greeting; how both \vomen bound 
 up the wounds of the afflicted and nursed 
 them with a mother s tenderness of all 
 and each of these details there is little which 
 I may properly set down, for you can read 
 of their like in many books but in this 
 of mine, I am telling of things which have 
 rarely if ever happened in the adventures 
 of other men. 
 
194 THE MASTER 
 
 We were two weeks with a fair wind, 
 bringing the ship to port, and had only 
 one member of the crew to help us. My 
 left arm had been put pretty well out of 
 business; the wound was a trifle, but the 
 torn muscles let my blood like a score of 
 leeches, if I put the least tax upon them. 
 
 Cap n Rog took great credit to himself 
 for our victory, but could only \\ink and 
 shake his head and swear and smite the 
 table in his effort to do ju>{i<r to the "ladv 
 cook." lie found a parallel in the Scriptures 
 for the whole occurrence and, with the 
 gin overboard, had less philosophy and better 
 seamanship. Each gave a hand in the work, 
 Cap n Larriper having full command, and 
 we slowly wore out the voyage with, perhaps, 
 a fourth of our canvas, and one bright mor 
 ning, late in May and early in the forenoon 
 watch, we wallowed up the harbour of Quebec. 
 
 " Member, matey, ye ve gi n me yer word," 
 said Rog Rone, as we Mood on the deck 
 together, looking up at the town. "Fair play 
 in an out, which, as I always said, is the only 
 way atween frien s. Fair play s the word !" 
 
 "I shall do as I agreed," was my ,m-\\er. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 WE LOWERED an anchor, and Rone 
 went ashore in a small boat. I 
 told my plans to Cap n Larriper. 
 
 "Look out fer the old divvle," she 
 whispered. "He s tame now, but when he s 
 had a pull at the gin he ll be as wild as 
 ever. Don t ye niver trust the man. He ll be 
 soft as mush till ye have the money, then, 
 some day when yer back is turned, his cane 
 11 fly like the paw of a cat an that ll be 
 the end o ye, boy." 
 
 I promised to be careful, and the "lady 
 cook" began to prepare food for our journey 
 into the forest. About six weeks had passed 
 since I found myself in a bunk on the Sus- 
 quehanna. I sat down and wrote their 
 history and more in a long letter to Ruth 
 Horton, and omitted not to tell her of my 
 proposed journey ashore, and of its hopeful 
 promise. 
 
 Cap n Larriper loaned me a trifle of 
 money, and went ashore with the letter and 
 a telegram to James Darklight, of whom 
 
 195 
 
196 THE MASTER 
 
 I sought quick information regarding my 
 friend, the .shoemaker. I was now in abso 
 lute command of the Susq. 
 
 Our disabled men had ><>re heads and 
 hands, and a sorry look, but were about the 
 deck and in good spirits, and disposed to 
 stick to the old ship as we thought. The 
 man who had had a knife thrust to its hilt 
 in his upper arm was now the ablest seaman 
 of them all. The super-cap n had won 
 their hearts, and when they began to see the 
 straits of Hemp in their worry, she pooh- 
 poohed the whole matter as a mere "trifle 
 of a tiff" and set their minds at ease. They 
 were like children about the knees of a 
 big mother and they loved her, but as men 
 love who scarcely know what to do about 
 it with rough oaths and smiles, and ox- 
 like submissiveness and now and then a 
 tear in the eye. 
 
 Cap n Larriper returned at midday with 
 an answer from Darklight. It said: 
 
 " The shoemaker gone for about six weeks, nobody 
 know> wh.-iv. Thought him with you, shop closed. 
 Entered window. Nobody there. All send lore." 
 
 The message surprised and puzzled me. 
 I had expected to hear of the discover} of 
 the lifeless body and of its burial. I was 
 
THE MASTER 197 
 
 perplexed with theories. I thought of Crab- 
 tree and saw a possibility that he might 
 have returned with help and brought my 
 friend back to life. Lovel had told me 
 that he was going away and so, perhaps, 
 he had gone. I wrote a telegram to Condon, 
 begging him to ascertain where I could 
 reach my friend, if possible, and let me have 
 a prompt answer. 
 
 Cap n Rog returned in a tug soon after 
 noon, and took the Susq up to her dock. 
 He had brought help aboard with him and 
 was in high feather. He stood on the roof 
 of the deck-house and waved his cane and 
 bawled his orders loudly, as we moved in. 
 Now and then he gave a downward glance 
 to see if Mrs. Larriper were observing him. 
 When the unloading had begun he came 
 to me and said with a shrewd wink: 
 
 "The Cap n has got his sails in the wind, 
 so he has, an we ll be off in the mornink 
 and leave the ship with Cap n Larriper 
 which, God knows, she couldn t be in no 
 better hands, I say." 
 
 He drew his wallet and removed from it 
 a newspaper clipping and shook it in the 
 air before me, saying: 
 
 "Now this ere is suthink very partic Iar 
 
108 THE MASTER 
 
 fine an tasty in the way o readinks. It 
 beats the Bible it does, an no mistake. 
 It was writ by a man who give it to me in 
 one o them newspaper offices, whr^e I ast 
 em if they knowed that place in the woods, 
 an I tol em how ye was lookink fer yer 
 dear ol uncle. It s suthink very partir lar 
 an I ll be obleeged if ye ll read it slow an 
 careful, an give it back prompt." 
 
 He passed me the bit of paper, which, I 
 observed, was dirty and worn at the creases , 
 suggesting that it had been cut and folded 
 some time before. The thought came to 
 me that perhaps it had been among the 
 papers in that envelope which someone had 
 stolen from my trunk. I began then to get 
 some light on the attitude of the old Cap n 
 toward myself. I read as follows: 
 
 The few who have hunted in the 
 vicinity of Lac Creche may have observed 
 the handsome harbour and the high 
 park on its northern end. They proo- 
 ably will not have seen the hermit s 
 home with its lovely garden above the 
 cliffs, for it is hard to reach and most 
 inhospitable. The rock walls beneath 
 it rise sheer two hundred feet or so above 
 the lake. There are many acres of wild 
 country in this high plateau of the 
 
THE MASTER 199 
 
 hermitage probably more than a 
 hundred. The Indians call it "The 
 Isle of the Air" an apt phrase, for 
 its rugged sides plunge sharply down 
 and divide it from the rest of the wilder 
 ness. There are only three places where 
 the traveller can ascend. At the end 
 of a toilsome and dangerous path he 
 will find a beautiful country. .Great 
 pines and spruces lift their tops into 
 the sky and the smooth forest floor is 
 a wild garden of ferns and flowers in 
 midsummer. The trails of the hermit 
 are bordered with them, and the ground 
 is kept clear of brush and fallen trees. 
 Near the centre of the plateau I came 
 to a small pond covered with white 
 lilies, where a number of deer were 
 feeding, and to my surprise they seemed 
 not to be afraid of me. The hermit s 
 house is inclosed by impenetrable thickets 
 of spruce and cedar and wild thorn. I 
 climbed a small tree of ironwood to 
 get a view of it. The house is large, 
 for the hermit has quite a family a 
 friend of about his own age, a son and 
 a number of servants, so my Indian 
 guide informed me. It is built of spruce 
 logs around a court a rambling sort 
 of structure, one story in height. It 
 stood in the midst of a great garden of 
 flowers and vegetables. An enormous 
 
200 THE MASTER 
 
 black bear for the discouragement of 
 intruders, I presume lay by the rear 
 entrance. I saw only a single human 
 being about the place, an old Indian 
 of a tril>e in the far north, they tell me. 
 My guide had many tale> to relate of 
 this sylvan home of the hermit, some 
 of them tinged with superstition. He 
 would not go with me beyond the edge 
 of the cliff, for he said the woods were 
 haunted up there and the thickets alive 
 with "tinga" (the spotted adder), which 
 the hermit has collected. I encountered 
 none of these deadly perils, hut no doubt 
 one who had the courage and impudence 
 to penetrate this inclosure would have 
 adventures worth recording. I went by 
 the way of Crofton, were guides may be 
 found who know the Creche country. 
 
 The Cap n had not misjudged the nature of 
 his find, for in all likelihood the man referred 
 to was my uncle, and it made me keen for 
 the journey. The end of my long quest had 
 been finally and quite definitely placed and 
 now, soon, I should see the man who was 
 my nearest relative, and who might be a 
 dear and valued friend to me. 
 
 "I should like to talk with the man who 
 wrote this," I said in some excitement, as 
 I returned the clipping. 
 
THE MASTER 201 
 
 "An that s what I says to him, an very 
 plain, an right to the p int," Cap n Rog 
 answered. "But he s off on the cars an 
 11 be a thousand hails in the west by sun 
 down. I ve bought a basket with straps 
 on, an we ll put in some choke-dog an be 
 off at the end o the middle watch. There s 
 a wind on me, matey. I m burning in the 
 hawse." 
 
 Cap n Larriper called me aside before 
 we left and made me tell her just where and 
 how we were going, and gave me another 
 word of caution as to the character of my 
 fellow traveller. 
 
 "Ye ll find two pairs o socks an a bit 
 o porridge an a bundle o cakes in the 
 basket," she whispered. "But mind ye, now, 
 they re not fer the ol ninnyhammer not 
 a one o them. The salt horse is good 
 enough for him. Good-bye, me fine boy, and 
 God be wid ye." 
 
 She and her pretty daughter had tears in 
 their eyes as we left them, and I could scarcely 
 keep back my own. I have known all kinds 
 of people, but none with better hearts in 
 them. 
 
 We took the cars at daybreak and were 
 conveyed to the little mill village of Crofton. 
 
202 THE MASTER 
 
 Here we found our guide, a lean, wiry man, 
 half French, half Indian and all woodsman. 
 At nine o clock, under a clear sky, we began 
 our tramp and were soon deep in the virgin 
 forest. The half-breed and I carried the 
 packs, and the Cap n growled along beside 
 us and had all he could do to carry his stiff 
 leg. The trail was rough, and now and 
 then steep as a ladder or soft as hasty pudding, 
 and Cap n Rog grew hot and red and noisy, 
 and complained of his "sny" and called for 
 gin and "choke-dog," which was his name 
 for luncheon, all too frequently. 
 
 He had loaded my pack with gin, and sat 
 under a tilted bottle at least twenty times 
 a day. There were moments when I thought 
 I had never seen a man so gifted in sinful 
 speech. He swore that we were trying to 
 wear him out, and cursed us if he got behind 
 a little, and once in a passion flourished his 
 cane above the guide s head, and threatened 
 to brain me unless I would stay back and 
 give him a hand in the hard going, where 
 I had enough trouble with my own share of 
 the burden, it seemed to me. At such 
 moments the look in his face gave me a 
 singular fear of him, for I was young, those 
 days, and not so brave as some, probably, 
 
THE MASTER 203 
 
 and I did my best to please him. My life 
 and health were a part of his capital in this 
 adventure, else, I am sure, there would be 
 no record of it. 
 
 In his best humour, and especially if he 
 wished me to rub his leg or do him a like 
 favour, he would call me "matey" or "cappy " 
 or "friendy" or "dear child." Then his 
 voice took on a kind of softness and expressed, 
 I doubt not, as I now think of it, a better 
 feeling than he was wont to have. When 
 ever we stopped to rest, and that was often, 
 he would sit and whet his knife and sing 
 old barbaric songs of the sea, some of them 
 beyond the imagination of gentlefolk in their 
 vileness. Often he would sit and kill toads 
 and bees and moths and butterflies, and all 
 creatures that came within a cane s length of 
 his body and, curiously, tear them into pieces. 
 
 It seemed as if he were always searching 
 for blood and the writhe of torture. 
 
 In all my acquaintance with the man I 
 never saw him asleep. Often I would awake 
 in the deep of the night and find him sitting 
 by the fire, muttering or tapping with his 
 cane or groping in the basket, or standing 
 near and looking down at us. 
 
 "Dod ram yer pictur , Bill Horkins!" 
 
204 THE MASTER 
 
 I heard him mutter, one night, as he struck 
 the air with his cane. Sometimes the firelit 
 gloom and the thought of my helplessness 
 would quicken my heart a little, but I had 
 small fear of him those days save w r hen he got 
 in a temper, for I knew that he was saving 
 me to draw a pot of money from my uncle. 
 The thought of that had begun to worry me, 
 but I must go on and be square with him, 
 pirate that he was. 
 
 Rone was such a clog upon us that our food 
 gave out and we had still another day to travel. 
 He would have it that we were to blame for 
 this, and accused us of a plot to starve him, 
 and cursed and muttered as he dragged along 
 in the rear, that day of our fast. 
 
 Cold, cloudy weather was upon us and a 
 little flurry of snow had fallen. We had 
 been slowly climbing into higher and cooler 
 country and came out, by and by, on a great, 
 open marsh meadow, with a shell of ice on 
 its water and crystals of frost in the wild 
 grasses. We could see hoary, misty 
 mountain-tops ahead, above the forest roof. 
 Here was sloppy footing and Rone sat down 
 in the water and felt his stomach, and roared 
 with its bestial craving. 
 
 "What s the trouble?" I asked. 
 
THE MASTER 205 
 
 "I m hogging, iron-sick, rotten!" he 
 shouted. "You ve yawed me all over the 
 woods till I m wobble-cropped. One o ye 
 had orter take me on his back, pippin." 
 
 "I cannot do it, and wouldn t if I could," 
 was my answer, for I was well out of patience. 
 "Let the gin alone and you ll carry yourself, 
 easy enough." 
 
 It is wonderful how hard travel and a day 
 or two of fasting will uncover a man. For 
 a moment we both stripped our souls and 
 showed them to each other, and I, knowing 
 that he was well able to carry his own weight, 
 spoke out with a brutal frankness. 
 
 He gave me a look, then, black as night 
 and full of the devil s cunning, and it told 
 of all he had planned for me. 
 
 "Very good, pippin," he whined in a 
 moment. "I wouldn t a thought it, deed 
 I wouldn t, pippin not when I ve saift 
 yer life an took care o ye gentle an give 
 ye the best on the ship." 
 
 "Look here, I ve heard enough of that 
 kind of thing," I said. "Don t fool yourself 
 by trying to fool me. I know all about you, 
 man. If I paid my debt to you I d take 
 that cane out of your hand and break your 
 silly head with it. We ll drop that. I have 
 
206 THE MASTER 
 
 gone into this plan with you, and I will keep 
 my word, but no more palaver, if you please. 
 Lie down here and die if you want to, Rone - 
 I ve no objection." 
 
 Cap n Rog turned pale. He glared into 
 my eyes and seemed to shove his head toward 
 me as he spoke. 
 
 "What d ye go an* git sore fer, pippin? 
 I ain t done nothink t you --honest t God, 
 I ain t an I never meant ye no harm, 
 pippin not me an* I can prove it." 
 
 "See blind geese!" the guide shouted, 
 pointing into the sky. 
 
 Two geese were flying slowly and aim 
 lessly above the woods and shifting their 
 course with every stroke of the wing. Their 
 movements suggested great weariness. One 
 keeled half over and fell some twenty feet 
 and caught the air with his wings and 
 struggled on. Suddenly he began to coast 
 downward very swiftly and struck the top 
 of a tall pine, at the edge of the meadow, and 
 dropped whirling to the ground. The Cap n 
 leaped up and ran with a speed that 
 astonished me toward the big pine. We 
 followed, and when we overtook him he was 
 beating the helpless bird into pulp with his 
 cane. The guide stopped him and lifted 
 
THE MASTER 207 
 
 the goose and showed me that its eyes were 
 crusted over with snow ice. 
 
 "He go south," the man explained, pointing 
 at the mountains. "Way up high he strike 
 snow-storm. Snow freeze on, so make im 
 blind." 
 
 Our guide cut off the head and flung it 
 away. Cap n Rog seized it and lapped the 
 dripping blood and clung to a leg of the 
 goose, while we made haste to get to higher 
 ground. Soon we had a fire going and the 
 meat of the fowl in a frying-pan. The 
 Cap n hovered over it and sniffed and smacked 
 his lips, and suddenly seized a piece of hot 
 meat in his fingers and ran aside, eating 
 and cursing in a manner that reminded me 
 of a baited dog with a bone. He was 
 determined to consume the whole carcass 
 and, only after a fierce quarrel, we managed to 
 save a part of it for fear of worse luck to come. 
 
 We went on in far better spirits, and the 
 sky came clear and the air warmer and, 
 about sundown, we could see the lake beneath 
 us, and the lifted isle beyond it. Darkness 
 had fallen when, having skirted the shore, 
 we stood gazing up at the timbered cliffs 
 of the isle. I could not wait until morning, 
 as the others thought best, and urged the 
 
208 THE MASTER 
 
 guide to go on with me. Cap n Rog was 
 groaning with aches and pains, and we left 
 him goose enough for his breakfast, and 
 made him a bed near the lake shore, and got 
 ready to ascend the trail. There was a 
 curious whine in the voice of the old sea- 
 dog, as he called me to his side just before 
 I left him, and addressed these words to me: 
 
 "Keep me in yer mind s eye, friendy, an 
 member ye ve gi n me yer word. Dear 
 child! You don know how I ll worry so 
 ye don t." 
 
 The guide took a long rope from his 
 basket and slung it over his shoulder, and 
 we tramped a mile or so around the clifT 
 before we got a footing. The night was 
 clear and a full moon straight above us. 
 \Ye halted whore the rocks came to our feet 
 in naked terraces steep as a Dutch roof. My 
 guide looped an end of the rope around his 
 own body and tied the other just above my 
 hips, and so we began our climb. Our clothes 
 were torn and our hands bleeding, when we 
 got to a line of small timber which grew out 
 of a great crevice in the rocks, and seemed 
 to pour over the edge above us like a narrow, 
 green cascade. There we drew our weight 
 from tree to tree, and soon came to a level 
 
THE MASTER 09 
 
 footing in thick woods. My guide led me 
 to the trail, some twenty rods from the edge 
 of the cliff, and having got my direction I 
 bade him return to our little camp on the 
 lake shore. As I felt my way alone over 
 the smooth trail a sudden fear of those perils, 
 of which I had read enough to stimulate a 
 rather lively imagination, fell upon me. 
 There was only a faint light under the crown 
 of the forest, and I went on slowly with a 
 large navy revolver in my hand. I stumbled 
 against the high hedges of the hermitage, 
 by and by, and fell. The rustling boughs 
 startled some animal in the moonlit inclosure. 
 It crashed through the bushes with a deep 
 growl and went quickly out of hearing. I 
 groped along the thicket s edge, wondering 
 what I should do next, when suddenly I saw 
 a beam of light slanting downward in the 
 darkness and wavering all about me. I 
 stood still, and soon it fell upon my body, 
 and then upon my face. Its glow seemed 
 to bewilder me so that I reeled, and shaded 
 my eyes, and had a helpless feeling all at 
 once. In half a moment the voice of a man 
 called from the upper story of the woods, 
 near me: 
 
 "Who s there?" 
 
210 THE MASTER 
 
 I told my name and briefly explained my 
 mission. Then s;iid the voice: 
 
 "Stand still, and I will come to you." 
 
 The beam of light swung away and shot 
 over the wall of thickets. I saw its colour 
 change from orange to violet; I saw it sway 
 in the gloom for half a moment and disappear. 
 Soon I could hear feet slowly descending on 
 a ladder. They reached the ground, and 
 again the light flashed upon me. 
 
 "Where s Vincent?" the voice queried. 
 
 "Vincent?" I asked. 
 Your uncle s messenger." 
 
 "He died in Li verpool - - the night he 
 found me." 
 
 The man came near and held the light 
 on my face. He turned the light on his 
 own. I uttered an exclamation of surprise. 
 
 "You have seen me before?" he asked. 
 4 Yes; you arc Gabriel Horton," was my 
 answer. "I saw you at the Lanthorne in 
 New York." 
 
 "Yes, yes you know my brother poor 
 man! How is he?" 
 
 "He was well when I saw him but a little 
 more than M \ weeks ago. How is my uncle?" 
 
 "Dead!" he answered simply, and stood 
 a moment stroking his long beard in silence. 
 
THE MASTER 211 
 
 " Went to New York long ago to find a friend. 
 It seems that he found, in some old music 
 store, a violin which he had lost many years 
 ago. He remained there until his death, 
 soon afterward. A great musician was David, 
 and a good friend, too." 
 
 I felt a bitter sense of disappointment. I 
 had come too late and could never give my 
 uncle the help he desired. 
 
 "You are welcome here," said Gabriel 
 Horton, as he took my arm and led me to a 
 narrow path that followed the hedge. He 
 stopped soon, and took another look at my 
 face and said: "You are like him. I am 
 glad to see you." 
 
 At his side was an opening in the edge of 
 the thicket. This we entered and tramped 
 back and forth in a maze of narrow r trails 
 between thick walls of evergreen, and shortly 
 entered a garden with a row of lighted win 
 dows beyond. As we went on I heard the 
 deep growl of some beast near the trail we 
 followed. 
 
 "Keep close to me," said my guide. You 
 are now in another world. It will seem 
 strange to you." Soon he added: "I saw 
 your campfire in the valley and went to the 
 lookout." 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 We crossed a large veranda and my guide 
 raised the wooden latch of a door and swung 
 it open and hade me enter. Candles were 
 burning on a table in the centre of a large 
 room. It was a library walled with books 
 on every side, and there were the skins of 
 bear and caribou and gray wolves on the 
 floor. A microscope, globes and charts, and 
 a human skeleton stood near the table. 1 
 were burning in the rude fireplace, built of 
 dry-laid stones. The floor, walls, and ceiling 
 were of spruce and cedar, nicely hewed and 
 split. My leader drew two chairs before the 
 fire, for the night was chilly, and bade me 
 sit down. He extinguished the burning 
 candles and came and sat with me in the 
 firelight, and slowly filled his pipe. 
 
 "I have a long story to tell you/ 1 he said, 
 "and if you are not too weary I will begin 
 at once." 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Matter is not dead but alive and everywhere 
 palpitating with energies, and organic life is simply 
 . . . a complex form of the universal life. 
 
 HERBERT SPENCER 
 
 The physical splendour of light and color ... w an 
 entirely spiritual consciousness accurately and absolutely 
 proportioned to the purity of the moral nature and to 
 the force of its natural and wise affections. 
 
 RUSKIN 
 
 1AM a man of few words," he began. 
 "I have little faith in them. They 
 are the playthings of a child and men should 
 learn to put them away. Even these I now 
 speak are false. They will deceive you, 
 though I wish them to tell the truth, but I 
 shall do my best. 
 
 "Twenty-five years ago my health broke 
 down. I sought help of a great physician 
 your uncle, Dr. David Holm, of Detroit. 
 My health improved and for almost a year I 
 lived in his home. We had like tastes and 
 were well abreast in our thought of the 
 mysteries, and were lovers of nature, and 
 almost music mad. 
 
 "Suddenly his wife died, leaving him a 
 
214 THE MASTER 
 
 baby son, just born, and a broken heart. I 
 went in quest of a nurse for the child. The 
 only available one was a deaf mute, and 
 she came to us. The infant sickened and 
 v\as near death. It was midsummer and 
 hot. We left the city, seeking better air 
 for our patient, knowing it to be the only 
 remedy. We sailed out of the lakes, and 
 down the St. Lawrence, and took to the 
 woods, by and by, having heard of this 
 place, where a certain herb which the doctor 
 desired for his child grew in abundance. We 
 went on slowly with two guides. 
 
 The tenth day of our journey afoot we 
 camped on the shore of the lake bel<>\\ 
 Next morning we ascended to this isle of 
 the sky, and found our home at last. The 
 child was now strong and hearty and so 
 were we all. We began to build our camp ami 
 little by little made for ourselves a kind of 
 heaven. We had no notion of staving long 
 and planned for a summer home only, but 
 here we remained. We had found a place 
 void of envy and vanity and malice and 
 deceit, and where we had time enough, at 
 last, to do the things that we wished o do. 
 We were both stronger than we had been in 
 years and were drawn to a new task. A 
 
THE MASTER 215 
 
 lawyer closed our relations with the world 
 and there was little to call us back. 
 
 "Ah, he was a rare spirit your uncle 
 and more than a brother to me. We under 
 stood each other and thought as one, but 
 with doubled vision. These vital queries 
 led us out of soundings: What would the 
 mind acquire of its own instruction ? How 
 would it explain itself and nature ? Would 
 it go to the truth straightway, as the bird 
 flies to its home ? Is not much of its heritage 
 instincts, powers, capacities weakened 
 and broken dow^n by the meddling of its elders ? 
 Do not the schools destroy powers better 
 than those they impart? 
 
 "The child grew strong, and we planned 
 to take account of his wisdom. We would 
 defer teaching him a word, even, of con 
 ventional knowledge as long as possible, 
 and learn, by and by, what we could of him. 
 My friend used to say that we should learn 
 of children instead of teaching them. That 
 was our plan. The child lived with his 
 mute nurse and neither of us had ever a 
 word to say to him. The woman sent for her 
 brother, who was also a mute, to come here 
 and be our servant. Two Indians, who 
 knew nothing of our language, have also 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 helped us in the work of the * island. So 
 the child was pretty well shut away from 
 the conventional inlets of human knowledge. 
 It may seem cruel to you, l>ut really it was 
 not so. We spoke to him with music and 
 very freely. Ever} day your uncle played 
 for him on the violin, and it seemed to soothe 
 all discomfort and satisfy his longing. He 
 began to imitate the sound of the instrument 
 and so saved and developed his voice. \Ye 
 kept him apart and beyond the sound of our 
 speech, and in his third vrar he gave us 
 names, and they were short phrases of music. 
 He did not forget or vary them in the least, 
 for years. He had seen one of the Indians 
 fire a gun, and he named him with a sound 
 suggesting that of a rifle. In like manner 
 he gave each a name, that of his nurse bc*ing 
 only a slow, gentle movement of his hand, 
 which served for years, although in time he 
 found another and a better name for her. 
 
 "Soon he had learned the songs of tin- 
 birds and could whistle them with an art so 
 wonderful that they seemed to think him 
 of their own tribe and came without fear to 
 his hand. 
 
 "In time the boy developed a shrewdness 
 that surprised us both. I observed that he 
 
THE MASTER 217 
 
 began to watch our faces very closely. He 
 was in his fifth year when a new power had 
 come to him. I saw that he was able to 
 see my thoughts, or so I concluded. The 
 look of my eyes, the lift of a brow, the delicate 
 play of muscles, that shape one s face to the 
 mood of his spirit, the feel of my hand, all 
 had a meaning and he understood them. 
 He had a way of conveying his thoughts to 
 us at first by signs and a language very 
 musical and all his own. There were sounds 
 in his voice sweeter than the best tones of the 
 violin. Slowly he abandoned signs and prattle. 
 
 "A singular result had come, and one we 
 had not anticipated. I could easily satisfy 
 myself that he knew many of my thoughts. 
 It came largely, we felt sure, from well- 
 trained eyes. He had been compelled to 
 depend upon them for his knowledge and 
 they had now opened the gate of a world 
 forever closed to us. They found delight 
 in colours which we could not see, in distances 
 beyond the reach of our vision. 
 
 "It is a wonderful thing the eye of 
 man. You know how the hunter will see 
 game in far thickets which we look in vain 
 to discover! We do not know how to use 
 our eyes. We take our knowledge from 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 others and acquire no skill in observation. 
 Our boy had discovered the shadows of our 
 thoughts. 
 
 " We had our theory to account for tins. 
 When you think of a special tiling you make 
 a mental picture of it. You see a tree, for 
 instance, before you >peak iN name, and if 
 ray eyes were keen enough I should find 
 some faint reflection of the image in your 
 face. Stand before the mirror and think 
 of a serpent and then of a dove, and you will 
 see your face change. Now this training 
 of his eyes had, somehow, stimulated the 
 brain cells behind them and a sixth sense had 
 come to him, or something like it, a power 
 of observation which understood the subtlest 
 changes in my face. I saw, too, that one 
 loses the great gift, in part, if it be neglect CM 1 
 in childhood. 
 
 "The boy s insight so far transcended 
 ours that a new step was neeessary. We 
 began to teach him English. He learned it 
 with astonishing ease and quickness. He 
 was ten years of age and could read music 
 and play the violin. He had no sooner 
 acquired the use of words than he began to 
 puzzle us with queries and seemed to get our 
 answers before we had spoken them. 
 
THE MASTER 219 
 
 " What was beyond the hills and the 
 mountains? he asked. 
 
 " More hills and mountains, I answered. 
 
 " And more people? 
 
 " Yes. 
 
 "When he asked: Who made the sky 
 and the trees ? Whence came all ? Why 
 were we living? we frankly expressed our 
 want of knowledge and sought it of him. 
 
 " You are our teacher, we said. Tell 
 us who made the sky and the trees and the 
 mountains ? 
 
 "He shook his head, doubtfully, and said 
 that he would find out and tell us. He 
 began to think, feeling, as he seemed to do, 
 our need of knowledge and the will to supply 
 it. He really began to be our teacher then. 
 
 "He had seen the miracle of the egg, and 
 got from the birds a notion of fatherhood 
 and motherhood. 
 
 "By and by, he informed us that the 
 valleys of the earth were like great nests full 
 of young, and that the father and mother 
 were Light and Darkness. Light went away 
 to bring comforts for her children, and Dark 
 ness came to hide them w^hile they slept. 
 
 "Tree, flower, fern, and beast were, there 
 fore, his brothers and he loved them, but he 
 
220 THE MASTER 
 
 saw this difference between himself and 
 
 them: he could make a fire and they could 
 
 not. Man was the favoured child of Light 
 
 - the great mother for she had given him 
 
 the power to summon her in the darkness. 
 
 He had but to strike a fire and she was with 
 
 him to illumine the night and temper the cold. 
 
 *You see he had gone to myth-making, 
 
 as had the men of old. 
 
 "We made him a partner in our studies. 
 One day his father gave him a few dry, 
 withered seeds and bade him plant them. 
 They sprang up and spread their colours, 
 by and by. 
 
 "We watched a caterpillar weaving its 
 cocoon. It lay dead and, in time, we saw 
 a butterfly break the shroud and come out 
 in bright azure wings. 
 
 "He looked into my microscope and saw 
 the swarming life hid by its littleness. He 
 saw that everything had life in it even the 
 rocks and the forest mould - and that all 
 was on the road to beauty and betterment. 
 It was like the withered seed and the cater 
 pillar. He knew only life and there was 
 no such thing as death in his view, for he 
 had never been able to discover it. 
 
 "By and by his nurse died. 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 "He sat beside her and seemed to be 
 thinking of the great procession of life which 
 we had seen together. 
 
 " She has fallen like a tree, he said. 
 She will wither and change like the seed 
 and the caterpillar/ 
 
 "You see, he could think of life only as 
 a thing inextinguishable and of many homes. 
 To him death was nothing but a change of 
 form and place and colour. 
 
 "That night we buried her, and next day 
 he got a notion that the darkness had taken 
 her away, but was comforted knowing that 
 she could call the light to her side. 
 
 "*I will look for her/ he said. 
 
 " Why? 
 
 " Because I loved her and promised her 
 a wolf -skin blanket and a pair of moccasins/ 
 
 "His notion of justice demanded that he 
 should see her again so that he might pay 
 his debt to her. 
 
 ; You may ask how it was that with his 
 singular power he failed to gain possession 
 of our store of knowledge. I answer, that 
 in spite of us he did acquire much of it. 
 But you must know that I and my friend 
 were skeptics. We had minds blank of all 
 belief as to the First Cause, until he opened 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 our eyes a little. Then, too, we had dis 
 covered this hindering fact: our thoughts 
 were never surely conveyed to him unK ^> 
 we uttered them in a sort of mental whisper. 
 
 "By and by a strange thing happened. He 
 found the prayer of the world, the plan of 
 nature, the whisper of God in his own heart. 
 
 " My master, he said, that being the 
 title which, of his own will, he gave to us, 
 * there are many things that we cannot see 
 with our eyes or hear with our ears, or feel 
 with our hands. Now I know that beyond 
 the hills yonder there are men and houses, 
 and though we go to the land s end there is 
 still something that we cannot see beyond - 
 houses and men, maybe. You know that 
 I have better eyes and ears than \<>u have. I 
 see colours that you do not, and sometimes 
 I play so softly that you cannot hear the 
 tones. But I hear them and they are wonder 
 ful. They are like the music of that country 
 beyond the land s end. I think that the 
 garden of our Great Master is there. Do you 
 not know that then 4 is a Great Master who 
 made the earth and the sky and the men ? 
 He can stand on a mountain- top and li<:lit 
 the stars and blow them out with his breath. 
 
 "We taught him to read and gave him the 
 
THE MASTER 223 
 
 Bible, and he read it through time and 
 again, thrilled by its story. 
 
 "So, briefly for there is much that I 
 need not tell he found his way into the 
 well-worn path and led us with him. 
 
 "More discoveries have come and of 
 greater value; I can prove to you that one s 
 thinking makes him. It shapes his soul 
 and his body. 
 
 "Once the nurse had had a fit of anger. 
 For a day, thereafter, we observed that her 
 milk seemed to poison the child. It sug 
 gested a new line of work for us. We began 
 to study the effects of thought and passion. 
 I have seen the work of good and evil in the 
 human body. The one weaves, the other 
 ravels. The one is like food, the other like 
 poison. You can trace evil thoughts into 
 the tissues they are like a host in arms 
 that go abroad, burning and killing. You 
 may see their line of march with a microscope. 
 Pure and noble thoughts such as one may 
 get from a strain of music have, also, 
 their own reaction. You may even follow 
 them into the blood and life cells. Give 
 the mind enough of this kind of thinking 
 and soon you shall see the loom of life pick 
 up its threads and weave them into the 
 
224 THE MASTER 
 
 body. Proportions, textures, colours, shape 
 will slowly change. You shall see the man 
 grow godlike and beautiful, as did the youth 
 who dwelt with us. 
 
 "My friend began to lose his health and 
 saw his end coming, and sent Vincent to 
 bring your father. We were both growing 
 old. The time wa> nearing when he would 
 be left alone and all the world new to him - 
 save this little paradise. Oh, then, we began 
 to feel about for our brother-." 
 
 Gabriel Horton knocked tin- a^lirs from his 
 pipe and sat looking into the fire. I waited 
 for a moment and he turned and added : 
 
 14 The end of the story I cannot tell you, 
 for God only knows what it will be." 
 
 "Is the young man with you?* 
 
 He rose and turned to me and whispered: 
 
 * We shall try to find him. But my friend ! you 
 
 are weary. Come, I will take you to your bed." 
 
 He lighted a candle and led me to a large 
 chamber, supplied with chairs, table, and 
 bed, neatly fashioned, of woven fibre and 
 young spruce. The bed of soft feathers 
 and its cover of light fur invited me to rest, 
 and put me in mind of my weariness, and the 
 house of my brain closed and its light went 
 out before I touched the pillow. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 1WAS awakened next day by loud voices 
 and the roar of a rifle. I rose and 
 stared about, my brain shaking off its dreams 
 like a dog coming out of water. Sunlight 
 was streaming in at the window. My watch 
 told me that I had slept some sixteen hours. 
 It was nearing five in the afternoon. I sprang 
 out of bed and found a large wooden tub 
 filled with water, ready for my bath. I 
 dressed hurriedly and went to the large hall 
 in which I had talked with Gabriel Horton. 
 Its front door was open, and I stepped out 
 upon a veranda overlooking the lake and a 
 long, wooded valley and distant mountains. 
 Horton stood near in a garden of flowers. 
 He greeted me warmly and asked: 
 
 "Were others with you?" 
 
 "A guide and one other man," I said. 
 "I have not yet told my story and perhaps 
 I had better begin." 
 
 "First, a little refreshment," said he. "I 
 know you are hungry." 
 
 I followed him into the hall where he sat 
 
226 THE MASTER 
 
 down beside me at the table, and snapped 
 a long viol string, drawn taut in a wooden 
 bow, that hung from the ceiling. Its deep 
 tone rang through the house timbers and, 
 presently, an Indian entered with food on 
 a wooden salver. I began my story, but 
 had finished eating before I was half done 
 with it. Gabriel Horton interrupted me by 
 saying: 
 
 "I have a man in a tree near the lookout. 
 He may be one of your friends and, if so, 
 we must release him at once. It s a small. 
 gray-bearded man who swore like a pirale 
 and called me Cappy." 
 
 "Rone," I said to myself, and the thought 
 of him was like an ache in my bones. 
 
 "He helped me in my search for you," I 
 stammered in a kind of panic. 
 
 Then we shall bring him here," said 
 Horton, as he rose and took his rifle from 
 the wall. 
 
 \Ve hurried through the garden and the 
 maze of thickets, and soon heard the familiar 
 voice of the Cap n. 
 
 "Ahoy, mates!" he shouted from the upper 
 branches of a small tree. "I ve hit the rocks 
 an gone to the top horse." 
 
 The tree was swaying under his weight 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 like a mast in a gale of wind. A bear that 
 was chained at the foot of it was looking up 
 and sniffing and growling as if he shared the 
 fears of the Cap n. 
 
 "Give a hand, mates/ Rog Rone called 
 with an oath, as we came near the tree. "I 
 say. cappy, p int off a mile or so with this 
 ere bear an anchor him." 
 
 "We ll do our best for you," I answered, 
 as Horton led the bear away, "but I must 
 remind you that swearing is out of place 
 here." 
 
 "An me with a pain in my sny," he 
 complained. 
 
 Rone came to the ground with surprising 
 agility in view of his age and lameness. 
 Horton had left with the bear. 
 
 Old Rog sat down, his hand on his sny 
 and groaned as I had seen him do more 
 than once since our journey began. 
 
 "Hell s bells! The goose is gone, cappy, 
 an I m starvink so I am," Rone com 
 plained. "I m empty as a rum bar l after 
 a long cruise." 
 
 I gave him a hand and he got to his feet 
 slowly and peered about him, his uptilted nose 
 lifting a little in a squint that seemed to 
 express hope, pain, and curiosity, all at once. 
 
228 THE MASTER 
 
 "Dear child! - I m glad ye ve found yer 
 poor uncle," he grunted, as he picked up 
 his cane. 
 
 I gave no heed to his palaver and thought 
 that I had best wait for further knowledge 
 and a more convenient season before I should 
 speak of my uncle s death. 
 
 You steer me into port, matey, and I ll load 
 the ship," said Rog Rone, as lie winked slyly. 
 
 I was in sad fear of what was coming, 
 for he had earned his hire and it was not for 
 me to stay him. 
 
 "Ho! ho!" the old man laughed in a low 
 chuckle, as he clung to my arm and limped 
 along the garden walk with his cane; "this 
 ere is wonderful ti<ly." 
 
 In a moment he whispered: "He must 
 have a saift full o gold." 
 
 Gabriel Horton met us on the veranda 
 and greeted the old wretch with a kindly 
 but thoughtful look in his face. The Cap n 
 had seemed to forget his pain and whistled, 
 as he looked down the valley, and, climbing 
 the steps, exclaimed: 
 
 "All hands to the hurrikin deck!" 
 
 We sat down, and he wiped his brow, 
 saying, as he gave our host a playful tap with 
 his cane: "Glad t see ye, cappy, an it s 
 
THE MASTER 229 
 
 been a very particular hard v yage with no 
 sun an the wind ag in us." 
 
 He lifted his stiff leg to the railing and 
 settled comfortably in his chair, and said, 
 "If you happen to have a snack o meat an 
 maybe a noggin o gin or rum or whisky, 
 I ll tighten my stays a little." 
 
 Horton left us and soon returned with 
 corn-cakes and jerked venison and a bottle 
 of currant wine. 
 
 Rone smelt the bottle and held it up to 
 the light with a serious and critical eye. 
 
 "Cur nt wine!" he exclaimed with a look 
 of disappointment. "Soun s like sassyparilF 
 so it does, but it takes holt as if it 
 knowed me." 
 
 "It is old and strong," Horton said, "and 
 needs the label of caution." 
 
 Rone ate like a dog and then talked 
 incessantly. He had mistaken Horton for 
 my uncle and we let him talk. 
 
 "As I said afore," he began, "we ve had 
 a partic lar hard v yage me an yer nephey, 
 an he a fryin all the way bout his dear 
 uncle an me a soothink of him, which I 
 wisht anybody would do the same t me if 
 they seen me in such a trouble. 
 
 "I alwus puts myself in his place, as the 
 
230 THE MASTER 
 
 book says so I do. I never could 
 lxar t see nobody suffer an* me able t help 
 it not me, not if 1 was to he hung for it. 
 His sorrer hit me like a rope s end. He hadn t 
 no chart er compass er any think but them 
 letters which he seen on the slate, an didn t 
 know his port, an ev rv time he d think o 
 you he d set an cry like a baby. Oh, he s 
 a lovely boy! No, sir, he says, I don t 
 play cards, he says whenever I asts him, 
 an he won t touch a drop o anythink 
 stronger n water, an I never knowed him t 
 say a word that w r a n t fit t be heard in 
 comp ny, an he don t talk too much -got 
 a wonderful eddication but nobody d c\< T 
 know it. I says to him, Look a here, I 
 says, Til tow ye in an God spares my life. 
 so I will. An he says: I ain t <mt no 
 money kind o like that. An I says, 
 Never mind, says I. Prob ly yer dear 
 ol uncle will give ye suthink, which he d 
 be dreadful mean if he didn t, an you give 
 me a little, an I ll be satisfied, says I. An 
 I ve brought him here by dead reck nin. 
 with a sny in my leg an iron-sick an down 
 by the heel, an head, an the wind agin n. 
 which he ll tell ye if ye ast him, an that s 
 as true as the holy book." 
 
THE MASTER 231 
 
 He turned with a furtive wink at me. 
 
 A silence rather impressive, as I think of 
 it, followed this bit of pettifogging. 
 
 "This is Mr. Horton," I said to him. 
 "My uncle is dead." 
 
 Rog Rone smote his knee with his fist. 
 
 "Dead! Hell s bells!" he exclaimed. "Did 
 he leave the boy any money ?" 
 
 Mr. Horton made no answer but sat looking 
 sternly at the Cap n. 
 
 Rone turned upon him rather impatiently 
 and said: "I d like t know if this dear child 
 is goink t git nothink at all. Wai, now, 
 we ll see about that an I wouldn t wonder." 
 
 Gabriel Horton sat looking ominously into 
 the face of Rone. 
 
 "I think we shall be able to do without 
 your help in the matter," he said calmly. 
 
 I could restrain myself no longer, for my 
 heart was afire with shame and out came 
 my story in a rush of words. I told how I 
 had met the Cap n, how I had been gagged 
 and bound and put in a sack and dumped in 
 the river; how Rone had picked me up and 
 taken me aboard the Susq, where next day 
 I found myself in a bunk. I told of my 
 compact with him, but said nothing of my 
 fear of foul play, and gave him the benefit 
 
232 THE MASTER 
 
 of every possible doubt, and was so generous 
 in all of my talk of him that I am sure if 
 Cap n Larriper had been present she would 
 have boxed my ears and taken the floor 
 from me. 
 
 "As to myself, I came here hoping only 
 that I might serve my uncle in some way," 
 I said in conclusion. "For his money I 
 care not the snap of my finger. 1 have no 
 wish nor need for it. Cap n Rone took his 
 chances and based his hope wholly on the 
 words of the mute messenger. He has been 
 most ingenious in the search. Without his 
 help I could not have found you." 
 
 "We shall reward him, but I care little 
 for this man," said Gabriel Horton as he 
 rose and paced the veranda. "He has your 
 money in his pocket now." 
 
 Rog Rone turned quickly, his hands 
 trembling, and said in a whining, frightened 
 tone: "I never seen er teched his money, 
 cappy, pon my word I didn t." 
 
 Gabriel Horton gave as little heed to him 
 as he gave to the creak of the floor under 
 his feet. "He will be as unhappy here as 
 the devil in paradise," he answered presently. 
 
 The old gentleman led me aside soon and 
 said: "Leave the man to me. I ll give 
 
THE MASTER 233 
 
 him a scare that will move him out of this 
 country. Anything that he can t explain 
 will be apt to worry the old knave, and I ve 
 got a pretty surprise for him." 
 
 Night was falling and an Indian was 
 building a fire on a low, broad rock that 
 stood a foot or so above the garden level 
 near the brink of the cliff, and some fifty 
 yards in front of us. The lake shone like 
 a polished floor in the valley, and w r e could 
 see the sky and feathery pine-tops and the 
 light of our fire in it. We sat in silence a 
 little while and watched the leaping flames. 
 Rone, who had been put out of his course 
 and worried by the frankness of Gabriel 
 Horton, knew not what to say, I fancy. He 
 sat tapping the floor lightly with his cane. 
 
 "We expect friends to-night, and this is 
 our beacon fire," said Horton. "Come, let 
 us go and sit by it." 
 
 An Indian brought us fur robes, for the 
 night was coming cold, and we took one of 
 the garden paths and Rone followed close 
 behind me and tried to whisper in my ear, 
 but I would not listen. I stepped to the 
 cliff s edge and saw how sheer the rocks 
 fell to the water far below. My host and I 
 sat on a rustic settle, and Rone near us in 
 
234 THE MASTER 
 
 the warm glow of the fire, and the darkness 
 fell fast so that we could see nothing beyond 
 the flames in a little time. An owl, in 
 a near tree-top, filled the silence with its 
 weird (iy. The Cap n turned suddenly and 
 muttered an oath. 
 
 "It s the voice of a lonely spirit," said 
 Horton. "This little isle of the sky is 
 haunted." 
 
 "By whom?" I asked. 
 
 "The ghosts of the dead." 
 
 It was amusing then to see the old Cap n 
 incline his head and listen as Gabriel Horton 
 went on: 
 
 "The ghosts of the murdered dwell here 
 for a time after death. Often we hear their 
 voices in the woods after nightfall, and they 
 wail like that." 
 
 The old gentleman gave a long weird 
 cry that rang in the still forest and died 
 away in distant echoes. It was answered 
 by another cry that rose half a mile or so 
 behind the camp, I should say, and travelled 
 far and wide in wonderful echoes. 
 
 "And if any come here who has shed 
 human blood the spirit of his victim will 
 appear to him and take revenge," said 
 Gabriel Horton in a low, solemn voice. 
 
THE MASTER 235 
 
 "Hell s bells!" I heard Rone mutter as 
 he leaned toward us on his cane, his hands 
 trembling. 
 
 Horton continued: "Some nights I think 
 that I can hear the voice of the old master, 
 and the sound of his violin up in the air 
 above the housetop. Those old pines have 
 heard the music so long that they seem to 
 remember it. Listen! Do you not hear the 
 sound?" 
 
 I did hear it, or thought I did some 
 thing like a distant song in the heavens 
 and so declared. 
 
 "I should not be surprised to see him walk 
 into the firelight, here, in the old familiar way." 
 
 "What! Spooks? is it spooks ye mean, 
 cappy?" said Rog Rone, as he moved a little 
 nearer. 
 
 Horton disregarded the query and went 
 on: "He left here to find Vincent and wrote 
 to me from Liverpool that he had learned 
 of his brother s death. He said that nobody 
 seemed to know where you were." 
 
 We talked on for some moments and 
 presently Cap n Rog rose and raised his cane 
 as if to defend himself. 
 
 "My God!" he muttered, "I m out o 
 all soundinks. I m in a harl." 
 
236 THE MASTER 
 
 He was looking over our heads at some 
 object behind us. I turned and saw a 
 figure approaching, in a long white robe. 
 It strode slowly, silently into the firelight. 
 I was dumb with amazement, for I saw Ben 
 Lovel approaching in a long coat of white 
 fur. A rope was wound about him at the 
 belt. Its end was noosed and came over 
 his shoulder and he swung it in his hand. 
 
 Rone had drawn a burning stick from the 
 fire and was whirling its flame about him 
 for a charm, I fancy. I can well understand 
 his terror now, for he thought that the young 
 man was dead and that his spirit had come 
 down to vex him. Without a word, Ben Lovel 
 approached Rone, the noose swaying in his 
 hand. 
 
 The Cap n backed away, shouting as he 
 waved the firebrand: 
 
 "Keep off! keep off, I tell ye. I ain t 
 done nothink at all - 
 
 His speech ended in a cry and down he 
 clattered with a number of loose stones from 
 the brink of the isle, and I saw the flash of 
 his torch in the black gulf below, and heard 
 the crack of his bones on the cliff-side, and 
 the plunge and thud of his body growing 
 fainter as he hurtled over the steep benches, 
 
THE MASTER 237 
 
 and bounded from the last of them and 
 splashed in the water, far down at the valley s 
 level. Then the hiss of his torch as it struck 
 and floated. 
 
 It reminded me of that line from Milton: 
 
 "Him the Almighty Power hurled, headlong, flaming from 
 the ethereal Sky." 
 
 All stood looking into the darkness and for 
 half a moment no word was spoken. The 
 shoemaker broke the silence. 
 
 " The guilty flee when no man pursueth, " 
 he quoted in a low, sad voice. 
 
 He touched Horton s arm and added: 
 "I would not have harmed a hair of his 
 head. Let the men go look for him. They 
 may take my rope and go over the south 
 edge." 
 
 He unwound the rope from his body and 
 turned and embraced me and whispered: 
 "O, my master! I have a full heart. Come, 
 let us go into the house." 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 PAIN had left its mark on the noble face 
 of my friend. He was pale and a 
 scar on his right temple showed where the 
 cruel weapon had battered his bones. Now 
 that I knew him to be the son of my uncle, 
 and the great teacher in this lonely school 
 of the wild, diverse mysteries of my later 
 life began to vanish. I understood how it 
 was that he had known me and Condon, 
 and the crowd of the Council Chamber, 
 including Rone and his stealthy crew, as 
 one knows himself. Silently I walked beside 
 him with a sense of awe in me. He seemed 
 to be aware of it, for suddenly he said: 
 
 "My master, Horton, has been telling you 
 strange things, and I hope that they will 
 not make you love me less. I have much 
 and I thank my Great Father for it, yet I 
 am one who must give all for my happiness. 
 I find the call of my task everywhere, and 
 the peace that you have is not forme. The 
 eyes of men do not reach out and pluck 
 your sleeve as you pass them. You have 
 
THE MASTER 239 
 
 only to go your way and obey the call of 
 your heart, and that is enough for you. I 
 am as one with a million brothers, and their 
 troubles afflict me." 
 
 I went into the house and sat on rugs 
 of wolf-skin, before the fire, with him, know 
 ing now what burdens of responsibility had 
 grown out of his power. As he sat in the 
 firelight he finished the story of our last 
 night at the shop in Kerrigan Place. 
 
 The first blow of our stealthy foes had 
 felled the man, Crabtree. He had suffered 
 no serious hurt and during the struggle had 
 crawled under the bed, where he lay con 
 cealed until the helpers of Rone had driven 
 away with their burden. Then he came 
 out of hiding and ran for help, leaving the 
 door open. He returned with an officer who 
 dragged my friend into the open air and 
 summoned an ambulance. The little shoe 
 maker was near death, but drugs and careful 
 nursing and his own will to live had revived 
 him. 
 
 Condon was on his way to Hamburg, and 
 Lovel had said nothing of the deadly assault, 
 preferring to deal with the guilty according 
 to his own plans. He had sent for Crab- 
 tree and bade him hold his tongue, and the 
 
240 THE MASTER 
 
 latter had agreed to do so for a payment of 
 twenty dollars, that being his appraisal of 
 the damage to his own head which was 
 hardly able "to fetch a rhyme," as he had 
 gravely declared to my cousin. 
 
 After a week in bed Lovel had set out 
 for his early home to rest and escape further 
 perils. 
 
 When he was done with the telling of all 
 this, he put his hand on my arm and said: 
 "My master, we must be going. We shall 
 begin the journey to-morrow, for now I am 
 reminded of one who will need you sorely." 
 
 I looked into his eyes, my own full of 
 wonder, I doubt not. 
 
 "Ruth needs you, and we should make 
 haste," he added. 
 
 "Have you heard from her?" 
 
 "No, but my heart tells me that every day 
 will increase her trouble. You will need 
 money, and I have some in my keeping 
 that is rightly yours." 
 
 "I need a little for my journey, for I have 
 nothing now," was my answer. "If it be 
 more than a small sum I beg you to keep 
 it for your task." 
 
 "I eat the bread of toil," he said, "and 
 have small need of money. This, that m\ 
 
THE MASTER 241 
 
 father bade me deliver in his name when 
 I should find you, I have kept longer than 
 I liked, knowing how it may rob the strong 
 and judging poverty the safer thing for you. 
 Now, at last, I shall ask my cousin to take 
 his stewardship. You have not forgotten 
 the letter that I gave you to be opened, if 
 any harm befell me the letter that was 
 stolen?" 
 
 "No," I answered with keen interest. 
 
 "In that letter I directed you to this isle 
 of the sky, and inclosed a brief account of 
 it. I advised you to find Gabriel Horton 
 or his brother, in the event of his death, and 
 learn of things to your advantage. Rone 
 had all this in his hands, and for that reason 
 he spared your life and brought you here 
 to us. He strove to get you in his power, 
 so that you would propose to share your 
 earthly goods with him, for he knew their 
 value and where to find them. With you 
 in his hands the task was not difficult. Rone 
 was a cunning man." 
 
 He sat long, telling me of his will to return 
 to the little shop, and help Condon in a new 
 trouble that would soon be coming. He 
 paused and I put a query which had jostled 
 into my thoughts. 
 
242 THE MASTER 
 
 "How comes it that your name is Lovel?" 
 I asked. 
 
 "It was the wish of my father that I should 
 bear my mother s name, for he loved to 
 think that I had her spirit in me, so my 
 master, Morton, has said. Her name was 
 Benjamina Lovel, and he called her Ben. 
 I knew not until my return here that my 
 name was Holm." 
 
 A little after midnight Horton entered 
 the room and said: " \Ye have found the 
 captain in five fathoms of water at the foot 
 of the cliff, and given him a decent burial. 
 I have brought his jacket with me; I think 
 that your money is here." 
 
 He pointed at a pocket, closed with 
 stitches, in the lining of the old brown velvet 
 waistcoat which the Cap n had worn. It 
 was now torn, and wet with lake water. He 
 lighted a number of candles, and we sat 
 down together at the table where I had 
 eaten, and in half a moment our good friend 
 had ripped this treasure pocket of the Cap n 
 with his hunting knife. Out came a number 
 of odd trinkets and three sealed envelopes, 
 and a lady s lace handkerchief, now worn 
 and crumpled. There were cheap finger- 
 rings and some unset jewels in a little buck- 
 
THE MASTER 243 
 
 skin sack. The envelopes were labeled as 
 follows: "Forty the pipin," "41 the Coun- 
 s ler," and "Bisnis." 
 
 "Your money is in one of these," said 
 Gabriel Horton. "We must open them." 
 
 "He often called me pippin," I suggested, 
 as I looked at the envelope which bore the 
 misspelled word. 
 
 Within it we found the exact sum which 
 I had drawn from my bank the morning 
 of that last day of mine in New York. I 
 had planned to take it with me to my new 
 home whither, it will be remembered, I had 
 been about to go with Israel Horton. 
 
 The envelope labelled, "41 the Couns ler," 
 contained a small sum of money and an old 
 ring of wrought gold, which had been taken 
 from Ben Lovel. 
 
 "This is the most important of all," said 
 Gabriel, as he ripped the "Bisnis" envelope 
 with a slash of his hunting knife; "here 
 we may look for something of value." 
 
 Within it were folded sheets of paper of 
 varying size, all torn from old account- 
 books save one the letter of my cousin, 
 which Rone had taken from my trunk at the 
 Silver Mug. The other sheets contained 
 memoranda, which we were not able to 
 
244 THE PIASTER 
 
 understand, and a letter quite plainly written, 
 as follows: 
 
 "Ol Cap I no what ver up to, an I wish 
 ye good luck. I seen a letter that says ol 
 unkle has got mutiny, an I ll meet ye up in 
 the woods for to help with the pippin. When 
 ye hear five raps of a woodpecker like that 
 
 youl no it s me. That bisnis I 
 
 went for to see to turned out good. If you 
 play honest I will share." 
 
 I suspected at once that the above com 
 munication was from Bill Horkins, and that 
 it related to our journey into the woods. I 
 asked myself if it were possible that my 
 letter to Ruth had fallen into his hands. If 
 so, of course, it had never reached her. 
 
 While these thoughts were disturbing me, 
 Gabriel Horton had found a curious paper 
 and spread it on the table. It contained 
 first, the war sign of the Toilers Chain, and 
 this jumble of words and figures, written 
 neatly in a German hand: 
 
 38 blow flick coffer 10 Awful sanger 
 king frill night number 42 Disturb, 
 blow sing out overhead wilderness, sor 
 row blow friendship peace all memory 
 coffer 14 geranium 
 
 Rex. 
 
THE MASTER 245 
 
 "It is a cipher and may be of great value," 
 said Ben Lovel as he bent over the paper. 
 "It relates, I think, to that evil business of 
 the radicals and I shall learn how to read it." 
 
 The other papers contained memoranda 
 with little promise of value to us. 
 
 "On your way south you had best report 
 the accident, and present this jacket and all 
 we have found upon it to the authorities in 
 Quebec," said Gabriel. 
 
 "But, first, I will make a copy of this 
 cipher message," said my cousin. "It 
 troubles me and I fear that we ought to 
 make haste. Let us go to our beds and 
 be up at dawn, and on the trail at sunrise." 
 
 He bade us good night and left me in 
 grave doubt of his meaning, and with his 
 blanket and pillow went out of doors where, 
 under great pines that flanked the garden, 
 he had been wont to sleep in fair weather. 
 
 Gabriel Horton went with me to my 
 room, and said before he left me: 
 
 "The old pirate was badly broken up 
 and I must tell you the thoughts that came 
 to me as I put my hands upon him. His 
 loom had only threads of evil to work with. 
 It wove neither man nor beast but a thing 
 made to give and receive violence a kind 
 
246 THE MASTER 
 
 of devil with the eyes of a hawk and the 
 brow of a monkey and the stealth of a cat, 
 and a great fear in him of the souls he had 
 sent away. Compare him with this son 
 of light, who is here with us, and you will 
 find a lesson as great as the gulf that lies 
 between them." 
 
 But there were others who claimed my 
 first thoughts, and especially one who was, 
 no doubt, thinking very ill of me. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE boom of the viol string awakened 
 me. Through pine-tops I could see the 
 dawn-light in the sky, as I dressed, and 
 found my cousin and his lifelong companion 
 in the hall of the Hermitage. The packs 
 were ready and the fire blazing, and an 
 Indian had spread our breakfast on the 
 table. 
 
 "The sky is clear and we shall have a 
 fine day in the woods, my master," said 
 Ben Lovel as he shook my hand. "I wish 
 we might keep you here and show you this 
 little world in the sky." 
 
 "Oh, but he will return," said Gabriel 
 Horton, and looked at me with a smile and 
 added: "It s a good place for a honeymoon." 
 
 "I ve been thinking of that," I answered. 
 
 "Well, say to her and my brother that 
 they will be welcome here." 
 
 A little before sunrise we descended the 
 cliff, with two Indians to carry the packs 
 for us, and went to the south end of the lake 
 in canoes, and were well up in high country 
 
 247 
 
248 THE MASTER 
 
 before a sunbeam had touched the trail. 
 We had fair footing and perfect weather 
 and were near thirty miles from the isle 
 when night overtook us. We camped by a 
 little brook, some ten rods from the trail, 
 and ate our suppers without a fire and 
 Mlnitly, for at dusk my cousin had warned 
 us to do no talking. lie felt sure that the 
 friends of Rone would be lying in unit 
 somewhere along the trail "to help with the 
 pippin." We lay back to rest and were 
 suddenly startled by the woodpecker signal, 
 that rang faintly in the darkened woods 
 from a point half a mile or so down the trail. 
 in the way we were heading. Tap-tap-tap, 
 tap-tap it sounded, exactly as Horkins s letter 
 had spaced it. 
 
 We rose to our feet, and my cousin 
 whispered: The knaves are near us. 
 Come, we will post our sentinels." 
 
 He whispered for a moment to the Indians, 
 and all tiptoed to the trail. There Lovel 
 found a smooth place and spread a blanket 
 and the guides lay down upon it by their 
 rifles, and drew other blankets over them. 
 I observed that they lay directly across the 
 trail so that one passing in the night would 
 be sure to stumble on them. 
 
THE MASTER 249 
 
 "We shall have new company," said my 
 cousin, as we returned to our camp. "They 
 may come any moment and we must not 
 miss them." 
 
 I hoped that he would say more of our 
 expected company, but he rolled into his 
 blanket and lay down and said no more until 
 we heard the signal again. 
 
 "They are no nearer and have probably 
 stopped for the night," he whispered. 
 
 Soon he fell asleep, but I lay and listened 
 a long time for that weird and ominous 
 rapping in the forest. 
 
 A loud cry and the report of a rifle brought 
 us to our feet. Dawn-light was falling 
 through the treetops. Ben Lovel seized his 
 rifle and passed mine to me. 
 
 "We must declare war at once," he 
 whispered. "Follow me and I will tell you 
 what to do, my master." 
 
 We ran toward the trail and saw the Indians 
 with their rifles levelled at two men, who 
 stood near them with their hands lifted above 
 their heads. As we came closer I observed 
 that one of them was the first mate of the 
 Susq the much cursed and abominable 
 Bill Horkins. The other was a hard-faced 
 man with a great, rough-skinned nose and 
 
250 THE MASTER 
 
 black, bristling moustache, whom I had 
 seen in Rone s company at the councils of 
 the Chain. 
 
 " Do as you are told my men and we 
 shall give you little trouble," said my cousin 
 as we came near. "You will stand with the 
 guides," he added, turning to me, "and do 
 not fire unless I bid you do so." 
 
 He approached the cowardly and desperate 
 men, whose hands now trembled as they 
 looked at the lifted rifles, and said to them: 
 
 "Men, we know your plans and will take 
 your weapons, if you please." 
 
 In half a moment he had taken two pistols 
 and a long knife from each and flung them 
 on the moss at our feet. He felt in all their 
 pockets, and removed their packs and 
 emptied them, but found only some cookies 
 and sandwiches and three bottles of rum. 
 These he broke on the stones, and I remember 
 thinking that he had better have saved 
 them, for the day s walk had wearied us and 
 with fifty miles of hard travel ahead, the 
 sting of the rum might bear us up a little. 
 He unloaded the pistols and broke them 
 and the knives on a rock and flung the 
 fragments into a thicket. 
 
 You may put your rifles away," he said 
 
THE MASTER 251 
 
 to us, and to our prisoners: "Sit down, my 
 men. I want to talk with you." 
 
 Bill Horkins got command of his tongue 
 at last. 
 
 "We didn t mean ye no harm, boss, fore 
 Gawd, we didn t. We just come up here 
 fer t roam aroun an see the country, while 
 we was waitin fer Cap n Rog, an that s 
 a fact." 
 
 "I knew not that you were in Canada, 
 Wagner," said my cousin, addressing the 
 other fellow. "It is but a little time since 
 I saw you in my shop." 
 
 The man who had been looking down, with 
 a sullen face, lifted his head quickly, and his 
 eyes met those of Lovel, and turned away. 
 
 The latter pointed at them with his finger, 
 and said to me: 
 
 "These are the two who struck us down 
 in the darkness and who, thinking me dead, 
 came here to help the captain and take 
 their share of your money." 
 
 The men changed colour and put their 
 hands to the ground as if about to rise and 
 flee, their eyes wide with astonishment. In 
 half a moment Horkins began to stammer: 
 
 "I I I never seen ye before, b boss, 
 hope to die if I did. Gawd knows we never 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 tried to do ye no harm neither on* us 
 did we, Jim Wagner? I d swear it on 
 a stack o Bibles a mile high." 
 
 Wagner shook his head and spat and 
 gazed at the thickets with a look of injury, 
 but said nothing. 
 
 "Thieves! liars! murderers!" said my cousin, 
 with stern eyes upon them. "My Great Father 
 will deal with you, and very soon, I think." 
 
 He held in his hand the waistcoat of Rog 
 Rone, and the cipher letter which we had 
 found in its pocket. 
 
 Your master, Rone, is gone to his punish 
 ment," said Lovel. "On the other side of 
 the mountains, yonder, his broken bones 
 lie buried in the ground. We have one of 
 his secrets here and you will know its meaning. 
 Look at this that your hand has written, 
 Wagner. Come with me a moment." 
 
 The man rose and went with my cousin 
 a few paces from the trail. They stood 
 facing each other for sonic five minutes and 
 I could hear them talking together in low 
 tones, but not a word of what they were 
 saying. Once I saw Lovel put his hand 
 under the chin of the wretch and lift his 
 hanging face a little. 
 
 When they had returned, and Wagner had 
 
THE MASTER 253 
 
 sat down by his crony, Lovel called me 
 aside, his face white as the paper on which 
 I am writing, and whispered: 
 
 "I see it all clearly. Two are marked 
 for death on the sixteenth of September 
 Horton, the millionaire, and my master, 
 Condon. It is known, I suppose, that they 
 will be together that day. We must hurry 
 or we shall not save their lives. I wish to 
 take these men with us, if possible, for 
 there is more that we may learn. Come, 
 we have hardly four days for our journey." 
 
 He turned to the Indians and addressed 
 them in their own tongue. They gave us 
 their rifles, while they made the packs ready 
 with all haste, and we were watching the 
 others. Soon we were off in the trail, our 
 prisoners ahead and we behind them, with 
 our rifles, and the guides close at our heels. 
 So we hurried along at such a pace that 
 the knaves began to lag and hurl oaths at 
 us, and before midday they sat down, cursing, 
 and refused to go any farther. We were 
 now in serious trouble, and left the Indians 
 on guard, and went down the trail a few 
 paces for a word of counsel together. 
 
 "Why not go on and abandon them?" I 
 suggested. 
 
254 THE MASTER 
 
 "It will give them a chance to undo 
 my plans," he answered. "If all goes well 
 with us we shall draw the fangs of a w r hole 
 pack of them. We must leave these men, 
 but keep command of them. The Indians 
 will take them far off the trail and detain 
 them where, surrounded by the mystery of 
 the woods, they will not be able to find 
 their way, until we have seen my master, 
 Condon. I know a lonely lake where they 
 could live by hunting and fishing." 
 
 So, after my cousin had talked with his 
 guides a moment, we left them and the 
 others sitting comfortably at the top of a high 
 hill, and resumed our journey. We walked 
 fast and planned to travel with torches 
 after nightfall, and make no stop until \\ c 
 could rest our legs in a steam-car. Late in 
 the afternoon two rifle shots came echoing 
 through the forest from a point not half a 
 mile behind us. \Ve halted, looking back 
 in the trail and listening, but heard no other 
 sound. 
 
 "I wonder what that may mean," Lovel 
 whispered. "There s a hint of evil in it." 
 
 He gave a loud halloo, but got no answer. 
 
 "I think that I know what has happened," 
 he said presently. "They had other bottles 
 
THE MASTER 255 
 
 of liquor hidden by the trail somewhere. We 
 were probably near it when they refused 
 to go on. Our Indians have tasted the 
 fire-water and that would undo them. I 
 fear that they have lost their rifles and their 
 lives also." 
 
 "It may be hunters," I suggested; "or 
 perhaps the Indians were shooting at some 
 animal." 
 
 I observed that my companion was worried. 
 He beckoned to me and we walked back in 
 the trail a few paces. Suddenly he stopped, 
 and whispered: 
 
 "We must go on. If they have over 
 powered the Indians they will lie in wait 
 for us, and we must guard our lives, my 
 master, for the sake of our friends." 
 
 We hurried along until our mouths were dry 
 with thirst and came to a little brook in the 
 dusk of the evening. 
 
 It had cut a deep gorge below us and 
 we made our way through thickets and down 
 to the water level, and leaned our rifles on 
 the rock wall and drank eagerly, with our 
 mouths in the ripples. We had slaked our 
 thirst and lay resting in a covert of young 
 pines, and suddenly my ear caught a sound 
 not of our making. It was like the tread 
 
256 TIIE MASTER 
 
 of muffled feet in the trail, and if we had not 
 been lying with our heads to the ground 
 I am sure we would not have heard it. Lovel 
 rose and stepped stealthily into the open 
 gorge, and I followed him. In the dim 
 light we could discern two figures moving 
 noiselessly up the trail in the direction whence 
 we had come. 
 
 "They go like ghosts," Lovel whispered, 
 and, indeed, their noiseless feet and dim 
 figures, and a faint sound like that of the 
 rustle of skirts, were uncanny, and quickened 
 my heart a little. Lovel stepped farther 
 into the open, straining his eyes. In half a 
 moment the dim figures vanished in the 
 dusk and silence. Suddenly my companion 
 turned to me and whispered : 
 
 "Let us get the rifles." 
 
 The dusk had thickened, and to that 
 circumstance, I doubt not, we owed our 
 lives. I had scarcely lifted my foot when, 
 bang! bang! went two rifles, not fifty feet 
 away, and their bullets -ang above our 
 heads and slapped the rocks beyond us. 
 Our enemy had aimed too high, as always 
 happens to those unaccustomed to ni^ht 
 shooting. 
 
 My heart skipped a beat or two, and 
 
THE MASTER 257 
 
 Lovel gave my arm a pull and I understood 
 him, and down we went in the edge of the 
 water as if we had been shot. We began to 
 crawl toward the thicket, but our enemy 
 was nearer than we thought and would be 
 upon us before we could make half the 
 distance, or even get to our feet. 
 
 At the same instant both Lovel and I 
 seemed to perceive the hopelessness of our 
 plight, and sank down at the water s edge 
 like men who are dead. I had no doubt 
 that Horkins and Wagner had got ahead 
 of us and had been lying in ambush, and 
 this notion flashed upon me: If they thought 
 us dead they might give us a chance to 
 reach our rifles. I know now that Lovel had 
 another and a better hope in his mind, and 
 neither moved a muscle. 
 
 "We ve got em," said the voice of Bill 
 Horkins as they descended the rocks on the 
 farther side of the gorge. "If ary one gives 
 a move put another charge in him, an 
 we ll be sure this time so we will, Jim 
 Wagner. I m goin t split their heads open 
 an cut out their hearts an burn the rest 
 of em hide an hair, and sink their bones 
 in the brook. That s five deaths an it 
 orto hold em down. Rog Rone is out o* 
 
258 THE MASTER 
 
 the game we ain t got to divvy no more 
 with him, er be feared o havin a knife 
 rammed into yer back some day. I ain t 
 took a dozen steps in five year without lookin 
 behind me." 
 
 They had come close and I was about to 
 spring up and fight for our lives when two 
 rifles roared just behind us and the men 
 fell and floundered like wounded deer in 
 the water. In a second, one of them rose 
 and ran in the bed of the brook and presently 
 sprang into the thickets. Then I heard a 
 voice that was like sunshine breaking the 
 walls of night. 
 
 "Run, ye brats o hell," it shouted. 
 
 I struggled to my knees and saw Wave 
 Larriper bending over me. Lovel had risen 
 and picked up the rifles of the wounded 
 men which had fallen near us. 
 
 "Poor lads! are yez hurled?" called 
 the voice of Cap n Larriper from the top 
 of the gorge. 
 
 "No," I answered. 
 
 "Thank God! Come out o there quick 
 as yez can. I ll stand here with me rifle 
 and take a crack at the villains if they come 
 back." 
 
 We clambered to the top of the gorge. 
 
THE MASTER 259 
 
 Lovel took Wave s hand in his and turned 
 to me and said: 
 
 "This is she I befriended that night we 
 rode with the Colonel. It is she who could 
 hardly be forgiven by any of her brothers 
 in this great family of ours." 
 
 He spoke very tenderly and dried her 
 eyes with his handkerchief, for she stood 
 sobbing at his side. 
 
 Then he took the hand of Mrs. Larriper 
 and said: 
 
 "Good mother! I knew that you were 
 
 near us." 
 
 "Whin we was goin by we seen a stir in 
 the bush," said she, "so down we drops on 
 our hands and knees wid our pop-guns 
 ready an crack wint their rifles an we 
 knew the divvle was up. Whin ol Horkins 
 got down off the rocks we spit the lead into 
 em for we thought yez was kilt entirely an 
 praise God ! yez seem to be well as 
 ever both o yez -- jisht!" 
 
 I took the hand of the "lady cook" and 
 put my arm around her neck and kissed 
 her, and spoke the best compliment that 
 I could think of and she gave me a playful 
 poke on the shoulder and exclaimed: 
 "Blarney!" 
 
260 THE MASTER 
 
 Lovel turned to Wave and her mother, 
 and asked: 
 
 "Are you both strong enough to walk 
 through the night?" 
 
 "Aye, an a bit to spare," said Cap n 
 Larriper. 
 
 I promptly assured him that I favoured 
 a change of climate, and he said: 
 
 "Then we shall hurry on. By sunrise 
 we should be near the railroad." 
 
 We made some torches and hastily gath 
 ered up our packs and rifles and hurried to 
 the trail. 
 
 Cap n Larriper had known worried days 
 since I left the Susquehanna, and told their 
 story as we walked. Horkins had returned 
 to the ship one day with a stranger. That 
 evening they disappeared, and in the middle 
 watch the ship caught fire and burned at her 
 dock. In escaping Horkins had dropped his 
 waistcoat on the deck and Cap n Larriper had 
 picked it up, and found in one of its pockets 
 the evidence which had sent her to the wild 
 country in quest of me. My letter to Ruth 
 and another from Rone, asking "for help with 
 the pippin," were in a hidden pocket under its 
 lining. Learning next day that Horkins and 
 his companion had brought rifles and pro- 
 
THE MASTER 261 
 
 visions and left the city, she and her daughter 
 and a guide had set out in the trail to Lac 
 Creche, where she knew that I had gone 
 with the Cap n. They had dismissed their 
 guide after a day s travel, confident of their 
 ability to keep the trail. 
 
 A little after dark one evening they had 
 come so near the campfire of Wagner and 
 Horkins that they could hear their voices. 
 Wave and her mother had been drawn from 
 their trail by the firelight and had gone back 
 a little and put up for the night. They had 
 heard the others leaving long before sunrise 
 and when light came they had been delayed 
 an hour or so in looking for the trail. So 
 they had fallen far behind and we had heard 
 them passing our ravine in the dusk. 
 
 That night, as we hurried on, my cousin 
 explained to me that he had asked Mrs. 
 Larriper to apply to Rone for employment 
 as cook on the Susquehanna. Condon had 
 suggested the plan, desiring information as 
 to the business of the "Cap n" and his 
 ship. The character and the peril of her 
 task were fully explained to Mrs. Larriper 
 but she had the courage to undertake it. 
 
 "I will tell you why we chose her for 
 this work," Lovel added. "Rone s easy 
 
262 THE MASTER 
 
 gallantries set forth in your sketch of him 
 suggested that a woman with quick wit and 
 a strong arm would be able to control him, 
 as Mrs. Larriper has done. Nevertheless, 
 she knows that the paths of the strong lead to 
 peril and that we must run with patience the 
 race that is set before us." 
 
 She interrupted the narrative to declare 
 that she could stand danger better than 
 dirt, and went on to say that the filthy con 
 dition of the old ship had "druv her mad," 
 and when she asked to be set ashore, the 
 Cap n had coolly informed her that, if she 
 went, she would have to swim. So she had 
 gone on and made the best of a bad bargain. 
 
 Our talk wore the night away and made 
 us forget our weariness, and soon after 
 sunrise we were aboard the cars on our way 
 to Quebec. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 T * 7E TOOK the first train for New 
 V V York, and all slept the journey 
 through, save myself. We arrived in the 
 middle of the afternoon of the fifteenth of 
 September a day of great trial for me, 
 with its final hours so full of uncertainty. I 
 left my companions at the depot, having 
 promised to see Horton as soon as possible, 
 and go to the Lanthorne at ten o clock, for 
 a talk with Lovel. I went to an inn and 
 then to a tailor s shop, for with all my 
 hardships I was scarcely fit to be seen 
 by gentlefolk, and I had begun to feel the 
 vanity of a bird preparing for his summer 
 shine. 
 
 It was growing dark when I rang at the 
 door of Israel Horton. The old butler opened 
 it, and said that he would take my name to 
 his master. On his return he looked at 
 me as if I were no better than the doormat, 
 and said: 
 
 "Mr. Horton cannot see you." 
 
 "Tell him that he must see me; I have 
 
 263 
 
264 THE MASTER 
 
 business that cannot be delayed," was my 
 answer. 
 
 The great man gave me no greeting when 
 I entered his room. 
 
 "I should think you would hesitate to 
 face me," he said sternly. 
 
 44 On the contrary, I have been working 
 hard for the pleasure," said I. 
 
 "I am not greatly complimented, young 
 man. Please tell me your business." 
 
 He had not asked me to sit down. I 
 stood facing him, unhorsed and trying to 
 command myself, for my emotions had been 
 rising since I entered his door. 
 
 You misjudge me," I began; whereupon 
 he interrupted by again demanding my 
 business. 
 
 I heard the rustle of a woman s skirt, and 
 suddenly Ruth hurried into the room, and 
 what a splendour I saw in her face that 
 moment! She took my hand and gravel} 
 looked into my eyes, and for a second not a 
 word was spoken. She turned to her father 
 and tried to be very cheerful as she said : 
 
 44 Sit down, gentlemen, and make your 
 selves at home. I will ring for some tea." 
 
 44 Perhaps, I had better see you alone," 
 I suggested to her father. 
 
THE MASTER 265 
 
 "I shall not leave you alone together," 
 said Ruth. "I am afraid that you would 
 both be torn to pieces." 
 
 "Go ahead, boy; I hope it s nothing to 
 be ashamed of," said Horton. 
 
 Then out came my story in a rush of 
 vivid sentences, that ran on for an hour or 
 so, like a mountain brook in the spring, and 
 brought them both to my side. In the 
 midst of it Horton wrung my hand and 
 declared that I should go no further until 
 I had forgiven his rudeness, while Ruth 
 walked slowly across the room with her 
 handkerchief to her eyes. When all was 
 told about Rone, the Susquehanna, Lovel, 
 and Gabriel Horton, and the Isle of the 
 Sky and I had come as near the end of 
 my story as my understanding would let 
 me, I paused and Israel Horton said: 
 
 "Condon arrives to-morrow afternoon and 
 I am to meet the steamer and drive here 
 with him. They have planned to throw a 
 bomb at the carriage. Holm, you should 
 thank God that you are not a rich man." 
 
 "Poverty has its advantages," I said, and 
 rose to go. "Can you meet me at the 
 Lanthorne at ten to-night ? Lovel will await 
 us there." 
 
266 THE MASTER 
 
 "I will meet you at the Lanthorne at ten 
 o clock," he answered, as he put his arm about 
 me and started for the door, and added: 
 " Boy, I hope the next chapter in your story 
 may be a happy one. If there is anything 
 I can do to make it so, I shall be glad." 
 
 "I may have a request to make of you as 
 soon as this danger is past," I said. 
 
 "I ll give you anything but my daughter," 
 he warned me. 
 
 I wondered if he would have me under 
 stand that I had returned too late and 
 lost her. The fear cut deep in me, but I 
 could see no chance of relief, for my friend, 
 pale with horror, had sent for his secretary, 
 and Ruth had left the room in tears, having 
 been cautioned by her father to say nothing 
 of what she had heard. So I left the house 
 and hastened to the lodgings of Colonel 
 Christmas, and had a quiet dinner with him, 
 and gave a brief account of myself, and 
 learned of all that had happened in the 
 School for Novelists. Darklight had pub 
 lished a great book and Pipps had made the 
 w T orld laugh with a series of satirical tales. 
 The school would meet again Saturday night, 
 when Condon was to be present and tell 
 of his trip abroad. 
 
THE MASTER 267 
 
 "Sir, you must go and bring Lovel, and 
 we ll make a night of it!" the Colonel 
 exclaimed. 
 
 I promised to go, if possible, and a little 
 before ten set out for the Sign of the Lan- 
 thorne. The shades of the club-room were 
 drawn close, and within I found my cousin 
 sitting at its big round table, with the 
 innkeeper. 
 
 We were scarcely done with our greeting 
 when Horton entered in a faded derby hat 
 and the great-coat of a coachman. He 
 greeted Lovel warmly, and flung off his 
 hat and top-coat saying, as he took a chair 
 at the table: 
 
 "The next best thing to poverty is its 
 resemblance." He turned to Lovel and said: 
 "I ve been hearing of that wonderful home 
 in the sky, and I have a great favour to 
 ask." 
 
 Lovel said for an answer: "You would 
 like to go there, and you would be most 
 welcome in my house, and my master, Gabriel, 
 the happiest of men for even a look at you. 
 He fears that you are so in love with grandeur 
 that you would find no joy in his way of 
 life, and try to take him out of it." 
 
 "On the contrary, it is the kind of thing 
 
268 THE MASTER 
 
 I long for," said Horton. "I want to get 
 away from my money and all its perils 
 and responsibilities - - from beggars, liars, 
 sycophants and those who are rotten with 
 envy and who hate me because I have suc 
 ceeded. When I heard of that home of 
 yours my God! boy, it put me in mind 
 of Paradise." 
 
 "But it is an expensive place," said Lovel. 
 "Not one of us could afford to live there for 
 more than a little time." 
 
 We looked into his eyes, not quite aware 
 of his meaning. 
 
 " It would cost more than we could pay - 
 our strength, our happiness, our very heart s 
 desire," Lovel added. 
 
 "How so?" was the query of Horton. 
 
 "Because you would find no beggars, 
 liars, and sycophants there no envy, no 
 hatred, no peril, no work, no reason why 
 you should be there save for a day or two 
 of rest. Paradise is not in the Isle of the 
 Shy. It is in our task or it is not in this 
 world. My father found his work there 
 and was content, and as to your brother - 
 his work is finished. We should find only 
 rest and beauty and comfort in the Isle of 
 the Sky, and they are not enough for u*. 
 
THE MASTER 269 
 
 I had to leave it and seek to know why I 
 was living." 
 
 "And not all the money in the world could 
 turn you from your task," said Horton, as 
 he looked with wonder into the face of the 
 clear-eyed youth beside him. 
 
 "No, nor any pain or fear," said Lovel 
 modestly, and many times I have thought 
 of those words of his. 
 
 A stern-looking man of middle-age, with 
 keen, gray eyes and silvered hair, had entered 
 the room and closed its door behind him 
 and was approaching us. 
 
 "Well, now for our night s work," said 
 Horton, as he rose and shook the stranger s 
 hand, and presented him as Chief Burns, 
 by which we knew that we were addressing 
 the chief of police. 
 
 "I believe you are right," said the latter, 
 turning to Horton, at once, regarding the 
 matter in hand, as we sat down. "They ll 
 throw a bomb at the carriage." 
 
 "And you must get the bomb-thrower or 
 I might as well jump overboard," said 
 Horton. "A life of fear is hardly worth 
 living." 
 
 " I have taken a step to that end by arresting 
 your coachman," said the keen-eyed man. 
 
270 THE MASTER 
 
 Horton rose, dumb with amazement, and 
 paced the floor. 
 
 "He has given me the whole story," the 
 chief went on: There are five anarchists 
 who are booked for this job besides the 
 coachman, and I have their names here." 
 
 He read from a note-book as follows: 
 
 L4 William Horkins, Heinrich Wagner, Roger 
 Rone, Jacob Fischer, and an unknown man. 
 He closed the book and added: "The 
 unknown man is the bomb-thrower no 
 doubt of that. Even your coachman does 
 not know who will throw it. He drives 
 away from the pier in the direction of your 
 home by a certain route. At some point 
 a man will signal him with three blasts on 
 a whistle. He jumps from the l>ox and 
 runs, and off goes the bomb, and the carriage 
 is up in the air and comes down in a thousand 
 pieces. Now, we must send the carriage 
 home empty and let them blow it up, and 
 get the bomb-thrower, if we can. I ll post 
 a hundred men in plain clothes along the 
 route, and send one on a bicycle to follow 
 the carriage. I have promised to let up 
 on the coachman if we succeed, and he has 
 agreed to help us. He s as keen as we are 
 to get the right man." 
 
THE MASTER 271 
 
 " Where is the coachman isn t he in 
 my stable?" Horton asked. 
 
 "Yes; and two of my men are helping 
 him with the chores. You must go to the 
 wharf to-morrow as if you knew nothing 
 of all this. I ll be there and tell you what 
 to do. I ve only one fear about it." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 "The coachman is a coward and his nerve 
 may fail him. When he gets to the wharf 
 there may be something wrong with the 
 harness or the carriage. But I will do my 
 best to take care of that. I have a coupe, 
 that looks like yours, with steel shutters and 
 spring locks on the doors, and it would take 
 a safe-cracker with all his tools to break out 
 of that little wagon. It s a portable jail 
 and very handy in a crowd. I ll have it 
 standing on the dock with an extra set of 
 harness. If any of that gang should show 
 up there I ll shove em into it where they 
 won t make us any trouble until they go to 
 headquarters." 
 
 The conference added nothing more to the 
 material of my history save that our host 
 sent in a bite of supper over which we sat talk- 
 bag until midnight, and I told again of all our 
 adventures with Horkins, Rone and Wagner. 
 
272 THE MASTER 
 
 The story of Wave and Mrs. Larriper 
 reached the heart of the millionaire. 
 
 "I have a freight line on the lakes, " he 
 suggested; "send them to my office in 
 Chicago and I will see that they have 
 employment and a home on one of our 
 boats." 
 
 "It will be a blessing to them if you are 
 good enough to see that they are kindly 
 treated," said my cousin. They love the 
 sea, and a task among cleanly people is 
 the thing I wish for them." 
 
 Horton scribbled an order for their passes, 
 and rose quickly and put on his coat and 
 hat and bade us good night. 
 
 "I m glad you did as I told you," said 
 the chief, as he shook hands with the million 
 aire. "Plain clothes won t hurt you any 
 and walking will do you good." 
 
 "Oh, I wore a jumper long before I ever 
 saw a dress suit!" said Horton, as he hurried 
 away. 
 
 The chief followed half a moment or so 
 behind him. 
 
 Lovel and I went to the little shop. It 
 was much as we had left it, save that Wave 
 and Mrs. Larripcr had been there sweeping, 
 dusting and scrubbing the rooms, and had 
 
THE MASTER 273 
 
 put a vase of flowers on the bedroom table, 
 and doilies of their own making on the 
 chairs. 
 
 "It looks very cozy," I said. 
 
 "Yes, and I love this little home, but I 
 have not long to stay here." 
 
 " Why ? It will be no more a place of 
 peril, I hope." 
 
 "But I must go where I may better serve 
 my brothers," he answered, as he began 
 to pace the floor. 
 
 We heard footsteps on the stairs, and when 
 I opened the door Wave and Mrs. Larriper 
 stood before me. 
 
 "God bless yez both," said the "lady 
 cook," as they entered. "We spint the 
 evenin with Mis Kerrigan acrost the way, 
 an* seen the light in yer windies an stepped 
 in t ax if we can come to-morry an tidy 
 the place a bit more. We ll bring some 
 trinkets along an a few little knickknacks 
 that ll make it more like a home." 
 
 "Dear friend, it is good enough," said 
 Lovel. "My home is not here, and hence 
 forth I know not where it will be. I have 
 found a place for you both on a big, clean 
 ship that carries freight on the Great Lakes." 
 
 "Ah, ye re a wonderful lad jisht!" said 
 
THE MASTER 
 
 Mrs. Larriper, as she stood with her hands 
 clasped and looked into the eyes of Lovel, 
 with tears in her own. "I could kiss the 
 soles o yer feet, man, I love ye so, for all 
 yeVe done for us. How can I pay the 
 debt I owe ye?" 
 
 "By helping some other in need," said 
 my cousin. "Good mother, go you to your 
 task to-morrow. This will give you tickets, 
 and tell you whom to look for at the end of 
 your journey and where to find them." He 
 irave her the order and certain directions 
 which the millionaire had prepared. "I may 
 never see you again, but I am sure that I 
 shall have good news of you." 
 
 Then I saw what filled me with wonder 
 and surprise. The girl knelt at his feet, 
 in tears, and kissed the sleeve of his coat, 
 and the face of the young man glowed with 
 a beauty and a tenderness beyond any words 
 of mine. He spoke not for half a moment, 
 and then very calmly, in a low, gentle tone, 
 as he raised the girl to her feet. 
 
 "Dear child! I have only paid my debt 
 to you, and you owe me nothing. Go to 
 your task and forget me, but remember 
 what I have said." 
 
 "I shall be at the Silver Mug. Let me 
 
THE MASTER 275 
 
 know when your train goes and I shall be 
 there to bid you good-bye again," I said, as 
 I shook their hands. 
 
 Lovel went to the landing with them, and 
 I heard Mrs. Larriper say: "May the good 
 God help an bless an keep ye, boy." 
 
 "I doubt not He will," said Ben Lovel, 
 as he came away. 
 
 I turned to him and said: "My master, 
 it is a great thing to have others do your 
 praying for you." 
 
 It was the first time that I had so addressed 
 him, for the day had come when I had begun 
 to think of him as my master. 
 
 We closed the shop and walked to the 
 Silver Mug and spent the rest of the night 
 there. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 IT WAS near midday when we left our 
 beds. Word had come to me, soon after 
 nine o clock, that Condon s ship would reach 
 her dock at five, and that Mrs. Larriper 
 and \Vave would be leaving the Central 
 Station at two. After breakfast I said to 
 my cousin: 
 
 "Let us go and make our adieux to the 
 Larripers." 
 
 44 1 think that you would best go alone," 
 he answered, and left me little doubt of his 
 meaning when he added: *! do not wish 
 to increase their sadness or my own." 
 
 On my return I found him writing, and 
 presently we sent for saddle-horses, and 
 bade the grooms meet us at four o clock 
 in front of the pier, where Condon was 
 expected, and hold our horses there until 
 we were ready for them. I had the notion 
 that with horses we could follow the doomed 
 carriage and assist in the capture of the 
 bomb-thrower. 
 
 W r e reached the pier at four-thirty, and 
 
THE MASTER 277 
 
 found the grooms, and dismounted and 
 left the animals in their charge. We passed 
 the customs gate and stood where we could 
 see every comer. A group of men followed 
 us, and then "the Chief" arrived in a 
 glittering coupe, and we saw him alight, 
 and address his coachman, who immediately 
 drove aside and unhitched his horses and 
 took them away. Some dock men backed 
 the vehicle behind a pile of freight, near a 
 wall of the pier house. The chief quickly 
 drew its shutters and closed its door with a 
 bang. Then he beckoned to me and said 
 in a low tone: 
 
 "I ll make you a deputy. There is my 
 little jail. Stay near it, sir. I might need 
 your help. Here s a key to the carriage, 
 and if you get tired unlock its door and 
 take a seat inside. The steamer will be late." 
 
 The pier was rapidly filling with eager 
 and excited people, come to greet their 
 friends, and I heard many say that the 
 ship was then coming up the river. They 
 crowded to the pier s end to observe her 
 approach. I saw Horton pass hurriedly, 
 as I stood by the carriage door. I waited 
 until the sun was low and gloomy shadows 
 had begun to fall around me. Thoughts 
 
278 THE MASTER 
 
 of the dark tragedy that threatened, of the 
 darker souls, damned with devils hate and 
 bitterness who had planned it, filled the 
 hour with a kind of fever. In the midst 
 of it I saw Ruth Horton passing alone, and 
 ran to her side. She was pale with anxiety, 
 and her hand trembled when I took it. 
 
 "He forbade me; he forbade me to come 
 here," she said; "but I had to come, or I 
 am sure that my thoughts would have killed 
 me. I want to be at his side." 
 
 You are his best protector, if he only 
 knew it," I said, for, as I looked at the 
 sweet, girlish figure I knew that if it stood 
 beside him he would be safe, for surely no 
 man could raise a hand to harm her. 
 
 "But I fear that he would lose his nerve 
 if he were to see you here," I urged. "I 
 think you d best go home; we will look out 
 for your father." 
 
 "I am faint and almost dead with fear/ 
 she whispered. My knees tremble and 
 my feet are heavy as lead." 
 
 I opened the door and asked her to sit 
 down and compose herself in the carriage. 
 She stepped in, and I partly closed the 
 door, and as I turned, Lovel came running 
 toward me. 
 
THE MASTER 279 
 
 "Horkins and Fischer are here," he 
 whispered. 
 
 We hurried in among the crowd at the 
 dock s end, to find the chief and inform 
 him of our discovery. The vessel was in 
 her slip and the crowd moving to the gang 
 ways. Five minutes had passed before we 
 found the chief, who stood where the first- 
 cabin passengers would land, with the 
 millionaire beside him. 
 
 "I know they are here and we shall have 
 them hi a minute," he said, when I had 
 imparted our information. "They ve taken 
 alarm and my men will get them at the 
 gate. Run out there, and if you see them, 
 do what you can to help." 
 
 We ran to the gate and there were the 
 "plain clothes men" half a dozen of them 
 staring into the faces of all who passed. 
 Two of them approached us. 
 
 "You are the man who knows Horkins?" 
 one of them said to me. 
 
 Yes," I answered, as the officers gathered 
 about us. 
 
 "Stand here, and if they try to pass, point 
 them out to these men," he said as he ran 
 down the pier. 
 
 We stood through slow, grinding minutes, 
 
280 THE MASTER 
 
 alert and fierce as a tiger ready for its spring, 
 and by and by the officer returned. 
 
 " They re not on this pier," he said. 
 
 "I saw them in the crowd," Lovel assured 
 him. 
 
 Then they ve taken to the water. I 
 know them well and so do three of the other 
 boys, and we ve covered every foot of the 
 pier." 
 
 A pair of black horses came swiftly toward 
 us, and we sprang aside and they rushed by 
 and clattered off in the dusk. As they 
 flashed through the glow of a great arc- 
 light above us, I had recognized Horton s 
 coachman on the box. Right then my fear 
 grew to a kind of panic--! could not have 
 told why. I caught the officer s arm and 
 my words stumbled out of me. 
 
 "Look here look here- was- was 
 that Horton s coupe?" 
 
 "No; Horton s had a broken pole and 
 they put his horses on the chief s coupe." 
 
 I ran through the gate and sprang to the 
 back of my horse, that stood near, and 
 dashed away in pursuit, for suddenly I had 
 thought of the girl dearer than my life to 
 me, whom I had concealed in the "little 
 jail." I had forgotten her, and she might 
 
THE MASTER 281 
 
 lose her life and I all hope of happiness, and 
 so I dug the spurs in my horse and shouted 
 a warning and dashed away. I knew the 
 coachman s route along which the chief s 
 men were posted, and fortunately there were 
 few in the streets. On I went, lashing and 
 shouting, to keep people out of my way, 
 until, after a minute or so of this kind of 
 thing, I began to check my horse seeing the 
 carriage ahead of me. It was now quite 
 dark, and I could see no other sign of life 
 in the streets save lights in the windows 
 and I was passing the rear wheels of the 
 coupe, and had heard the voices of men in 
 it calling for help, and had taken breath 
 for a shout to the driver, when the whistle 
 sounded and I saw him leap from his box. 
 Some fifty feet ahead of me a man was run 
 ning toward the carriage. I spurred my horse 
 and rushed toward him, as I heard his cry : 
 
 "I am the vengeance of God!" 
 
 I saw the quick jerk of his arm, and my 
 boot struck him and down he went. Then it 
 seemed to me that the earth had split asunder 
 and that I heard voices shouting in the 
 midst of hell. The rent pavements roared 
 aloft in a blinding flash of light and showered 
 about me. A breath or two of silence and 
 
282 THE MASTER 
 
 the street was full of echoes shouts and 
 cries, the beat of night sticks and of running 
 feet. I was lying on the sidewalk with one 
 leg under my horse. I pulled free and got 
 to my feet unharmed but like one stricken 
 with madness. At least a hundred men 
 and women, some with lighted lanterns, 
 were standing about the dead horses and 
 the wrecked coupe and a black hole in the 
 earth. I pushed in among them, and heard 
 myself calling loudly: 
 
 " Is she dead and the whole city destroyed ?" 
 
 The chief put his hand on my shoulder 
 and gave me a shake, and I heard him say: 
 "You re all right, old man," and suddenly 
 I recovered my senses. 
 
 "We re picking up your friends, Horkins 
 and Fischer," said the chief. They were 
 in the coupe and have been flung all over 
 the neighbourhood." 
 
 "They were in the coupe!" I exclaimed, 
 and the joyous thought came to me that 
 Ruth had left it and gone home while we 
 were looking for the chief. 
 
 "You must have left the door open," he 
 went on. "They hid in the coupe* while 
 we were after them, and locked themselves 
 in without knowing it." 
 
THE MASTER 283 
 
 "And where is the bomb-thrower?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "Killed by his own bomb," the chief 
 answered. "One of my men saw you knock 
 him down before he could get out of the 
 way. Your horse was going so fast that 
 he carried you out of danger." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 NEXT morning the papers made a better 
 hero of me than I have yet made of 
 myself, for I have done nothing in all my 
 life which would have halted any man of 
 common courage. The reporters, all of whom 
 I knew, would give us no peace and we 
 escaped from the Mug, soon after midnight, 
 and drove to an inn in upper Broadway. 
 
 About ten o clock in the morning I set out 
 for the Horton home, determined to end my 
 suspense that day, if possible. I met Ruth 
 on the avenue within a block of the house. 
 
 "My hero / she exclaimed, "I knew that 
 you would be coming and I have patrol 1< ><1 
 the block for an hour, so that I wouldn t miss 
 you." 
 
 We turned into a side street, now quite 
 deserted, and she explained that she had left 
 the carriage in a moment or two after I had 
 partly closed its door upon her, and seeing 
 nothing of me had returned to her home. 
 
 I said not a word of my panic and the 
 wild ride on which it had sent me. 
 
 284 
 
THE MASTER 285 
 
 "This is good luck," I said, after a silence. 
 "I must have a talk with you. I m going 
 to rebel and declare my independence if 
 it costs my head. Your father is a tyrant." 
 
 "And you a hasty young man. Shame 
 on you my father is your friend." 
 
 "Then your mother is the proud and 
 haughty one. I suggest that we rebel and 
 strike for liberty." 
 
 She smiled, and looked into my eyes and 
 saw there all that I wished to tell her. 
 
 "Don t say a word," she cautioned me. 
 Then, "Didn t you know?" she added with a 
 troubled look in her face. "Is it possible you 
 didn t know that I am to be married soon ?" 
 
 I turned and looked at her with a heart 
 of lead in me. 
 
 You are not so clever as I thought," 
 she remarked with a sigh. "I was sure 
 that you knew all about it." 
 
 "Ruth! I can t believe you. If I did, 
 I should want to die." 
 
 "Nonsense; you may be the most cheerful 
 man at the wedding, if you will. You see, 
 if you do not want me, I am sure that the 
 Prince does." 
 
 Making love in the street has its dis 
 advantages and I felt them keenly, but 
 
286 THE MASTER 
 
 better there than nowhere, let me assure 
 you, dear reader. 
 
 "I ought to have understood you," I 
 said, in the happiest moment of my life. 
 
 You had a riddle to solve and you did it 
 rather badly," she complained with a pretty 
 smile, and took my arm. "But never mind; 
 you will know women better by and by." 
 
 "Divination is well enough, but now for 
 plain talk and plenty of it," I said. " I 
 want to talk with you for the next fifty years, 
 at least, and we might begin to-day, with 
 a formal interview at the minister s." 
 
 "I m surprised at you a member of 
 the School for Novelists!" she whispered. 
 "Don t you know that her wedding is a 
 woman s great event ? Think of the gifts, 
 and the gowns, and how grand I shall look 
 and how all the young ladies will envy me! 
 Think of the joy of my friends, and the 
 misery of my aunts and cousins! You 
 wouldn t deprive me of all that ? Think 
 of my pride, too, in going to the altar with 
 a fine young man! a handsome young 
 man! who, as he stands at my side, will 
 look like a toy soldier! Now, don t you 
 see that you haven t a leg to stand on ?" 
 
 I had to admit it. 
 
THE MASTER 287 
 
 "Boy, I congratulate you," said Israel 
 Horton, as we entered his room that morning. 
 "You did your work well. I couldn t be 
 more sure of your mettle if you had spent 
 a year in the shops." 
 
 "You funny man!" said Ruth, as she 
 patted the cheek of her father. You think 
 that every boy must be made in a shop, 
 because you were." 
 
 "Great girl! great girl, young man!" he 
 exclaimed. "I wish you would help me 
 manage her, for God knows, I have enough 
 to do now. I must look out, boy, that she 
 doesn t fall into the hands of some worthless 
 fellow." 
 
 "Father, I m saved!" said Ruth. "He 
 has consented to marry me himself." 
 
 "What, my girl!" 
 
 "I am surrounded by so many perils 
 fools, princes, profligates and he by so 
 many pretty girls!" 
 
 "Do you mean to tell me that you are 
 engaged?" 
 
 She held her cheek against his and said: 
 "Father, we have risen in our wrath and 
 decided to throw off the yoke of oppression, 
 and marry each other." 
 
 "I ought to be mad, but I control myself," 
 
288 THE MASTER 
 
 he answered with a smile. "Go and make 
 your peace with the old girl, and may God 
 bless you!" 
 
 "Come," said she, taking my arm and 
 smiling up at me. 
 
 There s one preliminary," I said, as I 
 held her close and covered her face with 
 kisses. 
 
 "That s business!" said Horton with a 
 laugh. "Boy, you ll make a successful 
 husband." 
 
 "I thought he was going to forget it, 
 didn t you, father?" she remarked playfully. 
 "You see, our love-making has been done 
 by telepathy there was no other way. 
 Volumes of tender thought and affection 
 have passed between us, and we under 
 stand each other, but the poor fellow 
 has never had a chance to kiss me until 
 
 now." 
 
 "One kiss is better than a year of 
 telepathy," her father asserted. Then he 
 turned to me and said: Young man, I ve 
 been with you from the start, and I shall 
 be glad to take you into the family, but you 
 must get her mother s consent before this 
 goes any further." 
 
 "Come on," Ruth whispered. 
 
THE MASTER 289 
 
 "Look here, boy," said Israel Horton, 
 "you ll want to borrow some money." 
 
 "I think not," was my answer. "I have 
 a little that my uncle left me." 
 
 "And we re both willing to begin poor," 
 said Ruth. "We ve considered all that by 
 telepathy." 
 
 Horton laughed immoderately and said: 
 "You ll get sick of poverty, my girl." 
 
 "But there ll be no danger of being blown 
 up," she laughed. 
 
 "The danger is not passed," I said; "not 
 until we are done with your mother." 
 
 Horton smote the arm of his chair by 
 way of applause. 
 
 "Young man," he said, "you may need 
 a faster horse than you rode last evening." 
 
 "Come," said Ruth, as she took my arm 
 again, "be brave." 
 
 I had known some perils, but this made 
 me tremble. 
 
 "I will try; but, my dear, I am horribly 
 afraid of your mother," I confessed with 
 honest trepidation. 
 
 "Be gentle but firm while you present 
 your manifesto," she urged. "I will be 
 the populace and roar my approval. Come, 
 let us go and find her." 
 
290 THE MASTER 
 
 It is only necessary for me to say that we 
 were able to make terms with her, by which 
 she relinquished all hope of any grander 
 name for Ruth than that of plain Mrs. 
 Richard Holm. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 " That man is great, and he alone, 
 Who serves a greatness not his own 
 
 For neither praise nor pelf ; 
 Content to know and be unknown, 
 
 Whole in himself." 
 OWEN MEREDITH (Lord Lyttori) 
 
 I SAID in the beginning that this nar 
 rative was copied in part from the 
 minutes of that little coterie of good fellows, 
 known long ago as the School for Novelists, 
 in which I began to study men and the art 
 of describing them. Now, as I turn the 
 record of these nights at the Sign of the 
 Lanthorne, I come to one, fast by the oracle 
 of God, toward which these little streams 
 have been flowing, all unknown to me. 
 
 Neither my quest, nor the misbehaviours 
 of Rone and his bloody faction, nor the 
 tragic adventures into which they led me, 
 nor my lucky and singular romance, would 
 have tempted me to this task I am now 
 completing. But an unexpected hour has 
 sent me back upon every stream of cir 
 cumstance that made it possible, and here, 
 
 291 
 
292 THE MASTER 
 
 in the musty old minute-book, is the precise 
 moment of its beginning. And we read: 
 
 i4 The clock strikes eleven, and the long 
 hand has begun its round in a little cycle 
 of history. It is the closing hour of the 
 nineteenth of September, 1885. The great 
 oak-like Condon sits in the firelight with 
 Lovel, who looks frail as a reed beside him. 
 
 "Condon rises and tells of his travels 
 abroad, of the love of strangers, of honours 
 and offers of help that were showered upon 
 him, of the growing spirit of peace and 
 brotherhood among men. 
 
 * It has touched me, he said, " to learn 
 that I have the confidence and good opinion 
 of so many people. But I am more deeply 
 gratified to learn that I have, at last, the 
 confidence and good opinion of myself. It 
 may be that I shall learn to-morrow that I 
 have exchanged the one for the other - 
 that I have lost the whole world, as it were, 
 to gain my own soul. Nevertheless, I shall 
 think it a good bargain. And now, young 
 men, it is my duty to tell you as strange 
 a tale as you ever imagined, I can well believe. 
 k< I had great ambitions when I began 
 my work. I caught the zeal of fanatics, 
 but kept a cool head. To that I owed my 
 
THE MASTER 293 
 
 success as a leader. I let nothing stand 
 between me and my aim, for was it not 
 a righteous aim, approved by God him 
 self? And had I not high and ample 
 authority for achieving it by any means, 
 however bloody they might be? I asked 
 myself, if I were not fighting the enemies 
 of the Most High, and I made ready for 
 war upon them with no more thought of 
 my error than had Saul of old, when he went 
 to slay the Amalekites. I found myself 
 surrounded with the vengeful and blood 
 thirsty, and I became a tyrant in my effort 
 to control them. 
 
 " Then I met a man who looked into my 
 soul, and saw its blackness, and began to 
 turn me from my purpose with gentle words. 
 Somehow, he had learned my plans, and 
 they grieved him. Day and night he fol 
 lowed me, pleading for peace when I could 
 see no hope of it. At first, I feared the 
 boy; then I began to love him and to hear 
 the call of my conscience in his voice. 
 
 " By and by he brought to me a man 
 uscript in which he had set forth a plan of 
 campaign for me and my army a plan 
 of help and not of warfare. He suggested 
 that I publish it as a declaration of the hopes 
 
294 THE MASTER 
 
 and views of my council. This I could not 
 do, but offered to find a publisher for the 
 book, and give it public approval, and 
 commend its teachings to the brotherhood 
 of the Toilers Chain. 
 
 " "I agree," he said, "on condition that 
 you do not use my name." 
 
 "" Why shall I not use your name?" I 
 
 "It would injure me, and do the book no 
 credit," he answered. 
 
 " "Injure you!" I exclaimed. "Why, man! 
 It may bring you wealth and great renown." 
 "So I fear," he said to me, and I remem 
 ber every word and tone, and the look of his 
 face, when he answered: "Wealth and great 
 renown are not for me. They make one a 
 slave, and 1 would serve a greater Master." 
 
 It was strange, incredible and beyond 
 my comprehension - this great, unselfish soul 
 which had come and laboured with rue, 
 seeking not its own. But, now, I see its 
 wisdom. I have felt its power sweeping 
 over the wide earth. 
 
 "People would have it that I wrote the 
 book, although I was not base enough to 
 claim the honour, nor good enough to dis 
 claim H. Suddenly, I was whirled into 
 
THE MASTER 295 
 
 the skies. Men of power and place, against 
 whom I had planned a war more terrible 
 than any in history, began to help and trust 
 me. Kings and presidents applauded me; 
 millionaires began to support my cause. 
 They had disarmed me ; they were my friends, 
 and I could not give them battle. They 
 overcame me with their love and bounty. 
 They would have it that I was a great man, 
 and such, with all my heart, I tried to be. 
 How could I say or do a thing not approved 
 by the gospel of this book, that was said 
 to be mine? I had to talk it, think it, live 
 it, love it. My friends, I was like a bull 
 shorn of its horns. I could not move, save 
 in the way of kindness. Consider this 
 wonderful thing: Here was I, prepared for 
 war, and with no enemy armed for ven 
 geance and subdued by love, for all good 
 men were trying to help me. I saw that the 
 God of Samuel was not mine. I felt a new 
 power in my heart. I was a man of peace. 
 Those set on vengeance sought to take my 
 life, and the worst of them have perished 
 through their own folly, and some of you 
 have seen their end. I saw that the poor 
 had been fooled and driven like cattle 
 that the rich were suspicious, and that both 
 
296 THE MASTER 
 
 were looking for a trusty hand, a voice of 
 authority to make peace between them. 
 Such they thought mine to be. They have 
 welcomed, they have exalted me unworthy 
 as I am. 
 
 " I have seen hatred dying out of the 
 world. I have witnessed the coming of a 
 new resolve; that there is one treasure 
 which no nation may rightly barter away, 
 not for glory nor pride nor added territory 
 
 - the lives and honour of its citizens. 
 
 * These things that I have seen and felt 
 have lifted me above myself. Now, 1 am strong 
 enough to confess my folly and renounce it. 
 Henceforth, I must be what I am to all the 
 world a little man of many faults and van 
 ities, but doing my best with them. 
 
 * When I look at the slender youth who 
 sits beside me here this great-souled man 
 whose love has held me, like a strong but 
 gentle arm, and turned me to its bidding 
 
 - this modest, silent man who would be 
 the least of all and is yet the greatest, as I 
 verily believe, I cannot hold my peace. Ben 
 Lovel, brother of all men, deliverer of my 
 soul and body, stand up stand up, I say, 
 and take your greatness on you, while I take 
 my shame/ 
 
THE MASTER 297 
 
 "The speaker sat down, and Lovel rose in 
 a deep silence, and stood for a moment 
 looking thoughtfully at the fire; and not 
 one who sat there has forgotten the calm 
 of his face as the light shone upon it. 
 
 " John Condon, for your sake, I am 
 glad of that you have done/ he said. I 
 knew that this triumphant hour was coming. 
 Good master, you have put down your last 
 and greatest foe, and your shame is like a 
 crown upon your head. It is little that I have 
 done, and I shall take no sign of greatness. 
 
 " You have know T n not what to think of 
 me a man who turned from wealth and 
 fame and many cherished things, but I tell 
 you, it is because I have seen how dearly 
 one has to pay for them. Then, too, I 
 spent my youth where a man has neither 
 need nor knowledge of the things you love, 
 nor any vanities. 
 
 " I came out of my woodland home with 
 no weariness of men, but with a great will 
 to help them. I found the nations of the 
 earth filled with evil of their own making. 
 I heard the King say: "Thou shalt not 
 kill" save when I command it; "thou shalt 
 not steal" from any but my enemies; "thou 
 shalt not bear false witness" save it be to 
 
298 THE MASTER 
 
 serve your country; "Ihou shall love the 
 Lord thy God with all thy heart and thy 
 neighbour as thyself," but thou shall obey 
 me and slay thy neighbour and offend thy 
 (MX! it I bid thee do it. 
 
 I saw them building, slowly building 
 in the hearts of men, respecl for human life 
 and properly, and learing il down wilh 
 murder, lusl, and pillage. I saw each \\ith 
 one hand pointing to Ihe way of righleousness, 
 and with Ihe olher lo Ihe way of evil, so 
 thai Ihe people were confused and knew nol 
 in whom lo put their trust My brolhers, 
 I have seen all Ihis lhal makes a playlhing 
 of Ihe soul of man and ils greal Falher, and 
 Iherein, I pray, you may find a lask, as I 
 have, and forgel yourselves." 
 
 He ceased, and we had heard Ihe lasl of 
 his voice forever, allhough we knew il nol. 
 We sal in silence, thinking Ihinking, as 
 we looked at him, and the clock struck 
 twelve, and the Colonel dismissed us 
 solemnly. My cousin pressed my hand and 
 left me, as if in haste lo be gone. 
 
 Since Ihen, I have soughl him in many 
 places far and near. Once I heard of a 
 greal leacher who dwell among Ihe poor, 
 in a dislanl capilal, and cared nol for weallh 
 
THE MASTER 299 
 
 or fame, and taught from the book of the 
 little shoemaker. I found the teacher, and 
 he said to me: 
 
 "No, I am not the man you seek, but 
 only his follower." 
 
 And I heard of a parliament of nations, 
 gathered to open the hearts of their best 
 men on the subject of human brotherhood 
 and peace forever, and I hoped to find 
 him there, but found only his spirit and his 
 words. 
 
 Now, the rich man gives of his abundance, 
 and the bitterness of the poor is passing, and 
 the thunderbolts of their wrath no longer 
 shake the cities, and good will is spreading 
 to the ends of the eartn. 
 
 So Ben Lovel lives and will live, and 
 I know that his great soul is yet here in 
 its slender home, doing its work humbly 
 and forgetting itself and all that is his, includ 
 ing my love, for the sake of his many, many 
 brothers. 
 
 Once a year we go to the Isle of the Sky. 
 Ruth loves it, even more than I, but not 
 more than a fortnight s cruise, which we 
 take every summer with Cap n Larriper, 
 who commands a vessel on the lakes, and 
 Wave, the handsome wife of the first mate. 
 
300 THE MASTER 
 
 There is a nook in the woods near the 
 Hermitage where we love to go of a summer 
 day and sit in cool, deep shadows and read 
 or sing, or talk, or pray to some special saint 
 in our calendar. We call it our cathedral, 
 and it is very old. Before houses were made 
 with hands or ever a man was born of a 
 woman it was there, and unnumbered dead 
 are in its crypt and every age has added 
 something to its grandeur, (iray, tapered 
 columns rise to green arches far above our 
 heads. Dim aisles, carpeted with mosses, 
 green and gray, hush our footsteps so they 
 disturb not the low hymning of the pines. 
 Rugs of linea and robin s wheat invite us, 
 and here and there ferns and branches shake 
 out their incense as our feet touch them. 
 On either side is a great, memorial window 
 when the sun is low, and you would say 
 that between the tree coin i in IN there wen* 
 long, golden panes, all thickly wrought with 
 sprays and branches, to check and soften 
 the glow. 
 
 There one day I sat with Gabriel Horton, 
 whose bones now lie in a corner of the garden 
 that he loved, and told him the full sl<>r\ 
 as it is here set down. 
 
 "Now where, think you, is my young 
 
THE MASTER 301 
 
 master?" I queried, "and why does he 
 not return ?" 
 
 "Look no more for him," said the old 
 gentleman, with a sigh. :< Your ears have 
 not heard a better thing than this: he loved 
 her who was to be your wife and it is chiefly 
 for your sake that he is gone to return no more 
 to you. But when you are gone to yeur home 
 again I shall see him and learn of his work, 
 and I shall say no more of our dear master." 
 
 We rose and walked slowly, thoughtfully 
 down a mossy aisle toward the Hermitage. 
 Thrushes were singing in the lofts of the old 
 cathedral. 
 
 My companion added: 
 
 "There is a love greater, even, than that 
 of a man for a woman." 
 
 My wife met us and took my arm. 
 
 "It must be very wonderful," I said, as 
 I kissed her. 
 
 "It is the love of a man for his brothers," 
 said Gabriel Horton. "That, I believe, is 
 the way to love God. This love no longer 
 passes all understanding for it grows, ever, 
 in the heart of the world, and will bear the 
 fruit of peace and brotherhood. I have seen 
 great things, but you shall see greater. God 
 be with you," 
 
302 THE MASTER 
 
 Always when we sit in our old cathedral 
 and hear the pines and the thrushes we 
 think of our master and of his great work 
 and love, and in silence we look out through 
 the open door that he has set before us. 
 
 THE END 
 
D 
 
 M300637 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY