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LDANGER!
AND OTHER STORIESWORKS BY A. CONAN DOYLE.

Illustrated Edition Uniform with this Volume.

* 6s. net each vol.

THE WHITE COMPANY. | MICAH CLARKE.
THE REFUGEES, j RODNEY STONE.

UNCLE BERNAC : A MEMORY OF THE EMPIRE.
ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
MEMOIRS .OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.

THE SIGN OF FOUR, j SIR NIGEL.

EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD.

CAPTAIN OF THE POLESTAR.

ROtJyMD THE RED LAMP.

THE STARK MUNRO LETTERS.

THE TRAGEDY OF THE " KOROSKO."

A DUET, WITH AN OCCASIONAL CHORUS.
THE iGREEN FLAG, AND OTHER STORIES OF

War and sport.

ADVENTURES OF GERARD.

THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES.

RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.

THROUGH THE MAGIC DOOR.

ROUND THE FIRE STORIES. v

THE LAST GALLEY. | THE LOST WORLD.

THE VALLEY OF FEAR. 6j.net.

HIS LAST BOW: SOME REMINISCENCES OF
SHERLOCK HOLMES. 6s. net.

2s. net each.

ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.
ADVENTURES OF GERARD.

Two Volumes of Verse. 5s. net each.
songs of action. [ songs of the road.

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W. 1.DANGER!

AND OTHER STORIES

BY ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

4

AUTHOR OF
"THE WHITE COMPANY," "SIR NIGEL"
"RODNEY STONE," ETC.

LONDON

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.

1918All Rights Reserved?£3

&77cUs

PBEFACE

The Title story of this volume was written
about eighteen months before the outbreak of
the war, and was intended to direct public
attention to the great danger which threatened
this country. It is a matter of history how fully
Q6 this warning has been justified and how, even
jg: down to the smallest details, the prediction
,has been fulfilled. The writer must, however,
^most thankfully admit that what he did not
c foresee was the energy and ingenuity with which
the navy has found means to meet the new
■*. conditions. The great silent battle which has
been fought beneath the waves has ended in
s the repulse of an armada far more dahgerous
; than that of Spain.

It may be objected that the writer, feeling
41 the danger so strongly, should have taken
^ other means than fiction to put his views before
vTthe authorities. The answer to this criticism
n is that he did indeed adopt every possible
^method, that he personally approached leading
^ naval men and powerful editors, that he sent
;; three separate minutes upon the danger to
; various public bodies, notably to the Committeevi

PREFACE

for National Defence, and that he touched upon
the matter in an article in The Fortnightly Review.
In some unfortunate way subjects of national
welfare are in this country continually sub-
ordinated to party politics, so that a self-evident
proposition, such as the danger of * a nation
being fed from without, is waved aside and
ignored, because it will not fit in with some
general political shibboleth. It is against this
tendency that we have to guard in the future,
and we have to bear in mind that the danger
may recur, and that the remedies in the text
(the only remedies ever proposed) have still to
be adopted. They are the sufficient encourage-
ment of agriculture, the making of adequate
Channel tunnels, and the provision of submarine
merchantmen, which, on the estimate of Mr.
Lake, the American designer, could be made up
to 7,000 ton burden at an increased cost of about
25 per cent. It is true that in this war the
Channel tunnels would not have helped us
much in the matter of food, but were France
a neutral and supplies at liberty to come via
Marseilles from the East, the difference would
have\been enormous.

Apart from food however, when one considers
the transports we have needed, their convoys,
the double handling of cargo, the interruptions
of traffic from submarines or bad weather, the
danger and suffering of the wounded, and all* PREFACE

vii

else that we owe to the insane opposition to
the Channel tunnels, one questions whether
there has ever been an example of national
stupidity being so rapidly and heavily punished.
It is as clear as daylight even now, that it will
take yjears to recover all our men and material
from France, and that if the tunnel (one will
suffice for the time), were at once set in hand, it
might be ready to help in this task and so free
shipping for the return of the Americans. One
thing however, is clear. It is far too big and
responsible and lucrative an undertaking for
a private company, and it should be carried
out and controlled by Government, the proceeds
being used towards the war debt.

Arthur Conan Doyle.

August 24th,

Crowbobough.CONTENTS

PAQB5

I.	Danger . . .	1

II.	One Crowded Hour ...	50

III.	A Point of View ...	72

IV.	The Fall of Lord Barrymore .	80
V. The Horror of the Heights .	102

VI. Borrowed Scenes . .	127

VII. The Surgeon of Gaster Fell .	145

VIII. How it Happened . . .	178

IX. The Prisoner's Defence . .	184
X. Three of Them :

i. a chat about children,

snakes, and zebus . .	204

ii.	about cricket . .	216

iii.	speculations . . .	228

iv.	the leatherskin tribe . .	236

ixI

DANGER!1

being the log of captain john sirius

It is an amazing thing that the English, who
have the reputation of being a practical nation,
never saw the danger to which they were exposed.
For many years they had been spending nearly
a hundred millions a year upon their army and
their fleet. Squadrons of Dreadnoughts costing
two millions each had been launched. They had
spent enormous sums upon cruisers, and both
their torpedo and their submarine squadrons were
exceptionally strong. They were also by no
means weak in their aerial power, especially in
the matter of seaplanes. Besides all this,
their army was very efficient, in spite of its
limited numbers, and it was the most expensive
in Europe. Yet when the day of trial came, all
this imposing force was of no use whatever, and
might as well have not* existed. Their ruin could

1 The reader is referred to the Preface in connection with this
story.—A. C. D.

12

DANGER!

not have been more complete or more rapid if
they had not possessed an ironclad or a regiment.
And all this was accomplished by me, Captain
John Sirius, belonging to the navy of one of the
smallest Powers in Europe, and having under
my command a flotilla of eight vessels, the collec-
tive cost of which was eighteen hundred thousand
pounds. No one has a better right to tell the
story than I.

I wilt not trouble you about the dispute con-
cerning the Colonial frontier, embittered, as it
was, by the subsequent death of the two mis^"
sionaries. A naval officer has nothing to do with
politics. I only came upon the scene after the
ultimatum had been actually received. Admiral
Horli had been summoned to the Presence, and
he asked that I should be allowed to accompany
him, because he happened to know that I had
some clear ideas as to the weak points of England,
and also some schemes as to how to take ad-
vantage of them. There were only four of us
present at this meeting—the King, the Foreign
Secretary, Admiral Horli, and myself. The
time allowed by the ultimatum expired in forty-
eight hours.

I am not breaking any confidence when I say
that both the King and the Minister were in
favour of a surrender. They saw no possibility
of standing up against the colossal power of
Great Britain. The Minister had drawn up anDANGER!

3

acceptance of the British terms, and the King
sat with it before him on the table. I saw the
tears of anger and humiliation run down his
cheeks as he looked at it.

"I fear that there is no possible alternative,
Sire," said the Minister. " Our envoy in London
has just sent this report, which shows that the
public and the Press are more united than he
has ever known them. The feeling is intense,
especially since the rash act of Malort in dese-
crating the flag. We must give way.'''

The King looked sadly at Admiral Horli.

" What is your effective fleet, Admiral ? " he
asked.

" Two battleships, four cruisers, twenty tor-
pedo-boats, and eight submarines," said the
Admiral.

The King shook his head.

" It would be madness to resist," said he.

" And yet, Sire," said the Admiral, " before
you come to a decision I should wish you to
hear Captain Sirius, who has a very definite plan
of campaign against the English." .

" Absurd!" said the King, impatiently.
" What is the use % Do you imagine that you
could:-defeat their vast armada ? "

" Sire," I answered, " I will stake my life that
if you will follow my advice you will, within a
month or six weeks at the utmost, bring proud
England to her knees."4

DANGER!

There was an assurance in my voice which
arrested the attention of the King.

" You seem self-confident, Captain Sirius."
" I have no doubt at all, Sire."

" What then would you advise ? "

" I would advise, Sire, that the whole fleet be
gathered under the forts of Blankenberg and be
protected from attack by booms and piles. There
they can stay till the war is over. The eight
subma sines, hotrever, you will leave in my charge
to use as I think fit."

" Ah, you would attack the English battleships
with submarines ? "

" Sire, I would never go near an English
battleship."

" And why not ? "

" Because they might injure me, Sire."
" What, a sailor and afraid ? "

"My life belongs to the country, Sire. It
is nothing. But these eight ships—everything
depends upon them. I could not risk them.
Nothing would induce me to fight."

" Then what will you do ? "

" I will tell you, Sire." And I did so. For
half an hour I spoke. I was clear and strong
and definite, for many an hour on a lonely watch
I had spent in thinking out every detail. I held
them enthralled. The King never took his eyes
from my face. The Minister sat as if turned to
stone.DANGER!

5

" Are you sure of all this ? v

" Perfectly", Sire."

The King rose from tlie table.

" Send no answer to the ultimatum," said he.
" Announce in both houses that we stand firm
in the face of menace. Admiral Horli, you will
in all respects carry.out that which Captain
Sirius may demand in furtherance of his plan.
Captain Sirius, the field is clear. Go forth and
do as you have said. A grateful King will know
how to reward you."

I need not trouble you by telling you the
measures which were taken at Blankenberg, since,
as you are aware, the fortress and the entire
fleet were destroyed by the British within a
week of the declaration of war. I will confine
myself to my own plans, which had so glorious
and final a result.

The fame of my eight submarines, Alpha, Beta,
Gamma, Theta, Delta, Epsilon, Iota, and Kappa,
have spread through the world to such an extent
that people have begun to think that there was
something peculiar in their form and capabilities.
This is not so. Four of them, the Delta, Epsilon,
Iota, and Kappa, were, it is true, of the very
latest model, but had their equals (though not
their superiors) in the navies of all the great
Powers. As to Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Theta,
they were by no means modern vessels, and
found their prototypes in the old F class of6

DANGER!

British boats, having a submerged displacement
of eight hundred tons, with heavy oil engines
of sixteen hundred horse-power, giving them a
speed of eighteen knots on the surface and of
twelve knots submerged. Their length was one
hundred and eighty-six and their breadth twenty-
four feet. They had a radius of action of four
thousand miles and a submerged endurance of

nine hours. These were considered the latest

*

word in 1915, but the four new boats exceeded
them in all respects. Without troubling you with
precise figures, I may say that they represented
roughly a twenty-five percent, advance upon the
older boats, and were fitted with several auxiliary
engines which were wanting in the others. At
my suggestion, instead of carrying eight of the
very large Bakdorf torpedoes, which are nineteen
feet long, weigh half a ton, and are charged with
two hundred pounds of wet gun-cotton, we had
tubes designed for eighteen of less than half the
size. It was my design to make myself inde-
pendent of my base.

And yet it was clear that I must have a base,
so I made arrangements at once with that object.
Blankenberg was the last place I would have
chosen. Why should I have a y>ort of any kind ?
Ports would be watched or occupied. Any place
would do for me. I finally chbse a small villa
standing alone nearly five miles from any village
and thirty miles from any port. To this IDANGER!

7

ordered them to convey, secretly by night, oil,
spare parts, extra torpedoes, storage batteries,
reserve periscopes, and everything that I could
need for refitting. The little whitewashed villa
of a retired confectioner—that was the base from
which I operated against England.

The boats lay at Blankenberg, and thither I
went. They were working frantically at the de-
fences, and they had only to look seawards to
be spurred to fresh exertions. The British fleet
was assembling. The ultimatum had not yet
expired* but it was evident that a blow would
be struck the instant that it did. Four of their
aeroplanes, circling at an immense height, were
surveying our defences. From the top of the
lighthouse I counted thirty battleships and
cruisers in the offing, with a number of the
trawlers with which in the British service they
break through the mine-fields. The approaches
were actually sown with two hundred mines, half
contact and half observation, but the result
showed that they were insufficient tcr hold off
the enemy, since three days later both town and
fleet were speedily destroyed.

However, I am not here to tell you the incidents
of the war, but to explain my own part in it,
which had such a decisive effect upon the result.
My first action was to send my four second-class
boats away instantly to the point which I had
chosen for my base. There they were to wait
28

DANGER!

submerged, lying with, negative buoyancy upon
the sands in twenty foot of water, and rising
only at night. My strict orders were that they
were to attempt nothing upon the enemy, how-
ever tempting the opportunity. All they had to
do was to remain intact and unseen, until they
received further~orders. Having made this clear
to Commander Panza, who had charge of this
reserve flotilla, I shook him by the hand and
bade him farewell, leaving with hiin a sheet of
notepaper upon which I had explained the tactics
to be used and given him certain general princi-
ples which he could apply as circumstances de-
manded.

My whole attention was now given to my own
flotilla, which I divided into two divisions, keep-
ing Iota and Kappa under my own command,
while Captain Miriam had Delta and Epsilon.
He was to operate separately in the British
Channel, while my station was the Straits of
Dover. I made the whole plan of campaign
clear to him. Then I saw that each ship was
provided with all it could carry. Each had forty
tons of heavy oil for surface propulsion and
charging the dynamo which supplied the electric
engines under water. Each had also eighteen
torpedoes as explained and five hundred rounds
for the collapsible quick-firing twelve-poundet
which we carried on decS, and which, of course,
disappeared into a water-tight tank when weDANGER!

9

were submerged. We carried spare periscopes
and a wireless mast, which could be elevated
above the conning-tower when necessary. There
were provisions for sixteen days for the ten men
who manned each craft. Such was the equip-
ment of the four boats which were destined to
bring to naught all the navies and armies of
Britain. At sundown that day—it was April
10th—we set forth upon our historic voyage.

Miriam had got away in the afternoon, since
lie had so much, farther to go to reach his station.
Stephan, of the Kappa, stared with me; but, of
course, we realized that we must work indepen-.
dently, and that from that moment when we shut
the sliding hatches of our conning-towers on the
still waters of Blankenberg Harbour it was un-
likely that ye should ever see each other again,
though consorts in the same waters. I waved
to Stephan from the side of my conning-tower,
and he to me. Then I called through the tube
to my engineer (our water-tanks were already
filled and all kingstons and vents closed) to put
her full speed ahead.

Just as we came abreast of the end of the
pier and saw the white-capped waves rolling in
upon us, I put the horizontal rudder hard down
and she slid under water. Through my glass
portholes I saw its light green change to a dark
blue, while the manometer in front of me indi-
cated twenty feet. I let her go to forty, because10

DANGER!

I should then be under the warships of the
English, though I took the chance of fouling
the moorings of our own floating contact mines.
Then I brought her on an even keel, and it was
music to my ear to hear the gentle, even ticking
of my electric engines and to know that I was
.speeding at twelve miles an hour on my great
task.

At that moment, as I stood controlling my
levers in my tower, I could have seen, had my
cupola been of glass, the vast shadows of the
British blockaders hovering above me. I held
my course due westward for ninety minutes,
and then, by shutting ofi the electric engine
without blowing out the water-tanks, I brought
her to the surface. There was a rolling sea and
the wind was freshening, so I did not think it
safe to keep my hatch open long, for so small
is the margin of buoyancy that one must run
no risks. But from the crests of the rollers I
had a look backwards at Blankenberg, and saw
the black funnels and upper'works of the enemy's
fleet with the lighthouse and the castle behind
them, all flushed with the pink glow of the setting
sun. Even as I looked there was the boom of
a great gun, and then another. I glanced at my
watch. It was six o'clock. The time of the
ultimatum had expired. We were at war.

There was no craft near us, and our surface
speed is nearly twice that of our submerged, soDANGER!

II

I blew out the tanks and our whale-back came
over the surface. All night we were steering
southwest, making an average of eighteen knots.
At about five in the morning, as I stood alone
upon my tiny bridge, I saw, low down in the
west, the scattered lights of the Norfolk coast.
" Ah, Johnny, Johnny Bull," I said, as I looked
at them, " you are going to have your lesson,
and I am to be your master. It is I who have
been chosen to teach you that one cannot live
under artificial conditions and yet act as if they
were natural ones. More foresight, Johnrty, a nd
less party politics—that is my lesson to you."
And then I had a wave of pity, too, when I
thought of those vast droves of helpless people,
Yorkshire miners, Lancashire spinners, Birming-
ham metal-workers, the dockers and workers of
London, over whose little homes I would bring
the shadow of starvation. I seemed to see all
those wasted eager hands held out for food, and
I, John Sirius, dashing it aside. Ah, well! war
is war, and if one is foolish one must pay the
price.

Just before daybreak I saw the lights of a con-
siderable town, which must have been Yarmouth,
bearing about ten miles west-south-west on our
starboard bow. I took her farther out, for it is
a sandy, dangerous coast, with many shoals.
At five-thirty we were abreast of the Lowestoft
lightship. A coastguard was sending up flash12

DANGER!

signals which faded into a pale twinkle as the*
white dawn crept over the water. There was a
good deal of shipping about, mostly fishing-boats
and small coasting craft, with one large steamer
hull-down to the west, and a torpedo destroyer
between us and the land. It could not harm
us, and yet I thought it as well that there should
be no word of our presence, so I filled my tanks
again and went down to ten feet. I was pleased
to find that we got under in one hundred and
fifty seconds. The life of one's boat may depend
on this when a swift craft comes suddenly upon
you.

We were now within a few hours of our cruising
ground, so I determined to snatch a rest, leaving
Vornal in charge. When he woke me at ten
o'clock we were running on the surface, and had
reached the Essex coast off the Maplin Sands.
With that charming frankness which is one of
their characteristics, our friends of England had
informed us by their Press that they had put a
cordon of torpedo-boats across the Straits of
Dover to prevent the passage of submarines,
which is about as sensible as to lay a wooden
plank across a stream to keep the eels from
passing. I knew that Stephan, whose station
lay at the western end of the Solent, would have
no difficulty in reaching it." My own cruising
ground was to be at the mouth of the Thames,
and here I was at the very spot with my tinyDANGER!

13

lota, my eighteen torpedoes, my quick-firing gun,
and, above all, a brain that knew what should
be done and how to do it.

When I resumed my place in the conning-
tower I saw in the periscope (for we had dived)
that a lightship was within a few hundred yards
of us upon the port bow. Two men were sitting
on her bulwarks, but neither of them cast an
eye upon the little rod that clove the water so
close to them. It was an ideal day for submarine
action, with enough ripple upon the surface to
make us difficult to detect, and yet smooth
enough to give me a clear view. Each of my
three periscopes had an angle of sixty degrees
so that between them I commanded a complete
semi-circle of the horizon. Two British cruisers
were steaming north from the Thames within
half a mile of me. I could easily have cut them
off and attacked them had I allowed myself to
be diverted from my great plan. Farther south
a destroyer was passing westwards to Sheerness.
A dozen small steamers were moving about.
None of these were worthy of my notice. Great
countries are not provisioned by small steamers.
I kept the engines running at the lowest pace
which would hold our position under water, and,
moving slowly across the estuary, I waited for
what must assuredly come.

I had not long to wait. Shortly after one
o'clock I perceived in the periscope a cloud of14

DANGER!

smoke to the south.. Half an hour later a large
steamer raised her hull, making for the mouth
of the Thames. I ordered Vornal to stand by
the starboard torpedo-tube, having the other
also loaded in case of a miss. Then I advanced
slowly, for though the steamer was going very
swiftly we could easily cut her off. Presently I
laid the Iota in a position near which she must
pass, and would very gladly have lain to, but
could not for fear of rising to the surface. I
therefore steered out in'the direction from which
she was coming. She was a very large ship,
fifteen thousand tons at the least, painted black
above and red below, with two cream-coloured
funnels. She lay so low in the water that it
was clear she had a full cargo. At her bows were
a cluster of men, some of them looking, I dare
say, for the first time at the mother country.
How little could they have guessed the welcome
that was awaiting them !

On she came with the great plumes of smoke
floating from her funnels, and two white waves
foaming from her cut-water. She was within a
quarter of a mile. My moment had arrived. I
signalled full speed ahead and steered straight
for her course. My timing was exact. At a
hundred yards I gave the signal, and heard the
clank and swish of the discharge. At the same
instant I put the helm hard down and flew off
at an angle. There was a terrific lurch, whichDANGER!

15

came from the distant explosion. For a moment
we were almost upon our side. Then, after
staggering and trembling, the lota came on an
even keel. I stopped the engines, brought her
to the surface, and opened the conning-tower,
while all my excited crew came crowding to the
hatch to know what had happened.

The ship lay within two hundred yards of us,
and it was easy to see that she had her death-
blow. She was already settling down by the stern.
There was a sound of shouting and people were
running wildly about her decks. Her name was
visible, the Adda, of London, bound, as we after-
wards learned, from New Zealand with frozen
mutton. Strange as it may seem to you, the
notion of a submarine had never even now
occurred to her people,and all were convincedthat
they had struck a floating mine. The starboard
quarter had been blown in by the explosion, and
the ship was sinking rapidly. Their discipline
was admirable. We saw beat after beat slip
down crowded with people as swiftly and quietly
as if it were part of their daily drill. And sud-
denly, as one of the boats lay off waiting for the
others, they caught a glimpse for the first time
of my conning-tower so close to them. I saw
them shouting and pointing, while the men in
the other boats got up to have a better look at
us. For my part, I cared nothing, for I took
it for granted that they already knew that a16

DANGER!

submarine had destroyed them. One of them
clambered back into the sinking ship. I was
sure that he was about to send a wireless message
as to our presence. It mattered nothing, since,
in any case, it must be known; otherwise I could
easily have brought him down with a rifle. As
it wa#, I waved my hand to them, and they
waved back to me. War is too big a thing to
leave room for personal ill-feeling, but it must
be remorseless all the same.

I was still looking at the sinking Adda when
Vornal, who was beside me, gave a sudden cry
of warning and surprise, gripping me by the
shoulder and turning my head. There behind
us, coming up the fairway, was a huge black
vessel with black funnels, flying the well-known
house-flag of the P. and 0. Company. She was
not a mile distant, and I calculated in an instant
that even if she had seen us she would not have
.time to turn and get away before we could reach
her. We went straight for her, therefore, keeping
awash just as we were. They saw the sinking
vessel in front of them and that little dark speck
moving over the surface, and they suddenly
understood their danger. I saw a number of
men rush to the bows, and there was a rattle of
rifle-fire. Two bullets were flattened upon our
four-inch armour. You might as well try to
stop a charging bull with paper pellets as the
Iota with rifle-fire. I had learned my lessonDANGER!

17

from the Adda, and this time I had the torpedo
discharged at a safer distance—two hundred and
fifty yards. We caught her amidships and the
explosion was tremendous, but we were well out-
side its area. She sank almost instantaneously.
I am sorry for her people, of whom I hear that
more than two hundred, including seventy Las-
cars and forty passengers, were drowned. Yes,
I am sorry for them. But when I think of the
huge floating granary that went to the bottom,
I rejoice as a man does who has carried out that
which he plans.

It was a bad afternoon that for the P. and 0.
Company. The second ship which we destroyed
was* as we have since learned, the Moldavia, of
fifteen thousand tons, one of their finest vessels ;
but about half-past three we blew up the Cusco,
of eight thousand, of the same line, also from
Eastern ports, and laden with corn. Why she
came on in face of the wireless messages which
must have warned her of danger, I cannot im-
agine. The other two steamers whiqh we blew
up that day, the Maid of Athens (Bobson Line)
and the Cormorant, were neither of them provided
with apparatus, and came blindly to their de-
struction. Both were small boats of from five
thousand to seven thousand tons. In the case
of the second, I had to rise to the surface and
fire six twelve-pound shells under her water-line
before she would sink. In each case the crew18

DANGER!

took to the boats, and so far as I know no
casualties occurred.

After that no more steamers came along, nor
did I expect them. Warnings must by this time
have been flying in all directions. But we had
no reason to be dissatisfied with our first day.
Between the Maplin Sands and the Nore we had
sunk five ships of a total tonnage of about fifty
thousand tons. Already the London markets
would begin to feel the pinch. And Lloyd's-
poor old Lloyd's—what a demented state it would
be in! I could imagine the London evening
papers and the howling in Fleet Street. We saw
the result of our actions, for it was quite laugh-
able to see the torpedo-boats buzzing like angry
wasps out of Sheerness in the evening. They
were darting in every direction across the estuary,
and the aeroplanes and hydroplanes were like
flights of crows, black dots against the red
western sky. , They quartered the whole river
mouth, until they discovered us at last. Some
sharp-sighted fellow with a telescope on board
of a destroyer got a sight of our periscope, and
came for us full speei. No doubt he would very
gladly have rammed us, even if it "had meant
his own destruction, but that was not part of
our programme at all. I sank her and ran her
east-south-east with an occasional rise. Finally
we brought her to, not very far from the Kentish
coast, and the search-lights of our pursuers wereDANGER I	, 19

far on the western skyline. There we lay quietly
all night, for a submarine at night is nothing
more than a very third-rate surface torpedo-boat.
Besides, we were all weary and needed rest. Do
not forget, you captains of men, when you grease
and trim your pumps and compressors and
rotators, that the human machine needs some
tending also.

I had put up the wireless mast above the
connijag-tower, and had no difficulty in calling
up Captain Stephan. He was lying, he said, off
Ventnor and had been unable to reach his station,
on account of engine trouble, whieh he had now
set right. Next morning he proposed to block
the Southampton approach. He had destroyed
one large Indian boat on his way down Channel.
We exchanged good wishes. Like myself, he
needed rest. I was up at four in the morning,
however, and called all hands to overhaul the
boat. She was somewhat up by the head, owing
to the forward torpedoes having been used, so
we trimmed her by opening the forward com-
pensating tank, admitting as much water as the
torpedoes had weighed. We also overhauled the
starboard air-compressor and one of the periscope
motors which had been jarred by the shock of
the first explosion. We had hardly got ourselves
shipshape when the morning dawned.

I have no doubt that a good many ships which
had taken refuge in the French ports at the first20

DANGER!

alarm hf d run across and got safely up tlie river
in the night. Of course I could have attacked
them, but I do not care to take risks—and there
are always risks for a submarine at night. But
one had miscalculated his time, and there she
was, just abreast of Warden Point, when the
daylight disclosed her to us. In an instant we
were after her. It was a near thing, for she was
a flier, and could do two miles to our one; but
we just reached her as she went swashing by.
She saw us at the last moment, for I attacked
her awash, since otherwise we could not have
had the pace to reach her. She swung away
and the first torpedo missed, but the second took
her full under the counter. Heavens, what a
smash! The whole stern seemed to go aloft.
I drew off and watched her sink. She went
down in seven minutes, leaving her masts and
funnels over the water and a cluster of her people
holding on to them. She was the Virginia, of
the Bibby Line—twelve thousand tons—and
laden, like the others, with foodstuffs from the
East. The whole surface of the sea was covered
with the floating grain. " John Bull will have
to take up a hole or two of his belt if this goes
on," said Vornal, as we watched the scene.

And it was at that moment that the very
worst danger occurred that could befall us. I
tremble now when I think how our glorious voyage
might have been nipped in the bud. I had freedDANGER!

21

the hatch of my tower, and was looking at the
boats of the Virginia with Vornal near me,
when there was a swish and a terrific splash in
the water beside us, which covered us both with
spray. We looked up, and you can imagine our
feelings when we saw an aeroplane hovering a
few hundred feet above us like a hawk. With
its silencer, it was perfectly noiseless, and had
its bomb not fallen into the sea we should never
have known what had destroyed us. She was
circling round in the hope of dropping a second
one, but we shoved on all speed ahead, crammed
down the rudders, and vanished into the side
of a roller. I kept the deflection indicator falling
until I had put fifty good feet of water between
the aeroplane and ourselves, for I knew well how
deeply they can see under the surface. However,
we soon threw her of! our track, and when we
came to the surface near Margate there was no
sign of her, unless she was one of several which
we saw hovering over Heme Bay.

There was not a ship in the offing save a few
small coasters and little thousand-ton steamers,
which were beneath my notice. For several
hours I lay submerged with a blank periscope.
Then I had an inspiration. Orders had been
marconied to every foodship to lie in French
waters and dash across after dark. I was as
sure of it as if they had been recorded in our
own receiver. Well, if they were there, that was22

DANGER J

where I should be also. I blew out the tanks
and rose, for there was no sign of any warship
near. They had some good system of signalling
from the shore, however, for I had not got to
the North Foreland before three destroyers came
foaming after me, all converging from different
directions. They had about as good a chance
of catching me as three spaniels would have of
overtaking a porpoise.. Out of pure bravado—I
know it was very wrong—I waited until they
were actually within gunshot. Then I sank and
we saw each other no more.

It is, as I have said, a shallow sandy coast,
and submarine navigation is very difficult. The
worst mishap that can befell a boat is to bury
its nose in the side of a sand-drift and be held
there. Such an accident might have been the
end of our boat, though with our Fleuss cylinders
and eleetric lamps we should have found no
difficulty in getting out at the air-lock and in
walking ashore across the bed of the ocean. As
it was, however, I was able, thanks to our excel-
lent charts, to keep the channel and so to
gain the open straits. There we rose about mid-
day, but, observing a hydroplane at no great
distance, we sank again for half an hour. When
we came up for the second time, all was peaceful
around us, and the English coast was lining the
whole western horizon. We kept outside the
Goodwins and straight down Channel until weDANGER!

23

saw a line of black dots in front of us, which I
knew to be the Dover-Calais torpedo-boat cordon.
When two miles distant we dived and came up
again seven miles to the south-west, without
one of them dreaming that we had been within
thirty feet of their keels.

When we rose, a large steamer flying the
German flag was within half a mile of us. It
was the North German Lloyd Altona, from New
York to Bremen. I raised our whole hull and
dipped our flag to her. It was amusing to see
the amazement of her people at what they must
have regarded as our unparalleled impudence in
those English-swept waters. They cheered us
heartily, and the tricolour flag was dipped in
greeting as they went roaring past us. Then I
stood in to the French coast.

It was exactly as I had expected. There were
three great British steamers lying at anchor in
Boulogne outer harbour. They were the Ccesai,
the King of the East, and the Pathfinder, none
less than ten thousand tons. I suppose they
thought they were safe in French waters, but
what did I care about three-mile limits and in-
ternational law ! The view of my Government
was that England was blockaded, food contra-
band, and vessels carrying it to be destroyed.
The lawyers could argue about it afterwards-.
My business was to starve the enemy any way
I pould. Within an hour the three ships were
3DANGER!

under the waves and the lota was streaming
down the Pieardy coast, looking for fresh victims.
The Channel was covered with English torpedo-
boats buzzing and whirling like a cloud of midges.
How they thought they could hurt me I cannot
imagine, unless by accident I were to come up
underneath one of them. More dangerous were
the aeroplanes which circled here and there.

The water being calm, I had several times to
descend as deep as a hundred feet before I was
sure that I was out of their sight. After I had
blown up the three ships at Boulogne I saw two
aeroplanes flying down Channel, and I knew
that they would head off any vessels which were
coming up. There was one very large white
steamer lying off Havre, but she steamed west
before I could reach her. I dare say Stephen
or one of the others would get her before long.
But those infernal aeroplanes spoiled our sport
for that day. Not another steamer did I see,
save the never-ending torpedo-boats. I consoled
myself with the reflection, however, that no food
was passing me on its'way to London. That was
what I was there for, after all. If I could do
it without spending my torpedoes, all the better.
Up to date I had fired ten of them and sunk
nine steamers, so I had not wasted my weapons.
That night I came back to the Kent coast and
lay upon the bottom in shallow water near
Dungeness.DANGER!

25

. We were all trimmed and ready at the first
break of day, for I expected to catch, some ships
which had tried to make the Thames in the
4arkness and had miscalculated their time. Sure
enough, there was a great steamer coming up
Channel and flying the American flag. It was
all the same to me what flag she flew so long as
she was engaged in conveying contraband of war
to the British Isles. There were no torpedo-
boats about at the moment, so I ran out on the
surface and fired a shot across her bows. She
seemed inclined to go on so I put a second one
just above her water-line on her port bow. She
stopped then and a very angry man began to
gesticulate from the bridge. I ran the Iota almost
alongside.

" Are you the captain ? " I asked.

" What the -" I won't attempt to re-
produce his language.

"You have food-stuffs on board ? " I said.

" It's an American ship, you blind beetle! "
he cried. " Can't you see the flag ? It's the
Vermondia, of Boston."

" Sorry, Captain," I answered. '' I have really
no time for words. Those shots of mine will
bring the torpedo-boats, and I dare say at this
very moment your wireless is making trouble for
me. Get your people into the boats."

I had to show him I was not bluffing, so I
drew off and began putting shells into him just26

DANGER!

on the water-line. When I had knocked six
holes in it he was very busy on his boats. I
fired twenty shots altogether, and no torpedo
was needed, for she was lying over with a terrible
list to port, and presently came right on to her
side. There she lay for two or three minutes
before she foundered. There were eight boats
crammed with people lying round her when she
went down. I believe everybody was saved, but
I could not wait to inquire. From all quarters
the poor old panting, useless war-vessels were
hurrying. I filled my tanks, ran her bows under,
and came up fifteen miles to the south. Of
course, I knew there would be a big row after-
wards—as there was—but that did not help the
starving crowds round the London bakers, who
only saved their skins, poor devils, by ex-
plaining to the mob that they had nothing to
bake.

By this time I was becoming rather anxious,
as you can imagine, to know what was going
on in the world and what England was thinking
about it all. I ran alongside a fishing-boat,
therefore, and ordered them to give up their
papers. Unfortunately they had none, except
a rag of an evening paper, which was full of
nothing but betting news. In a second attempt
I came alongside a small yachting party from
Eastbourne, who were frightened to death at
our sudden appearance out of the depths. FromDANGER!

27

them we were lucky enough to get the London
Courier of that very morning.

It was interesting reading—so interesting that
I had to announce it all to the crew. Of course^
you know the British style of headline, which
gives you all the news at a glance. It seemed
to me that the whole paper was headlines, it
was in such a state of excitement. Hardly a
word about me and my flotilla. We were on
the second page. The first one began something
like this•

CAPTURE OF BLANKENBERG f

DESTRUCTION OF ENEMY'S FLEET

BURNING OF TOWN

TRAWLERS DESTROY MINE FIELD
LOSS OF TWO BATTLESHIPS

IS IT THE END ?

Of course, what I had foreseen had occurred.
The town was actually occupied by the British.
And they thought it was the end! We would
see about that.

On the round-the-corner page, at the back of28

DANGER!

the glorious resonant leaders, there was a, little
column which read like this:—

HOSTILE SUBMARINES

Several of the enemy's submarines are at sea,
and have inflicted some appreciable damage upon
our merchant ships. The danger-spots upon
Monday and the greater part of Tuesday appear
to have been the mouth of the Thames and the
western entrance to the Solent. On Monday,
between the Nore and Margate, there were sunk
five large steamers, the Adela, Moldavia, Cusco,
Cormorant, and Maid of Athens, particulars of
which will be found below. Near Ventnor, on
the same day, was sunk the Verulam, from Bom-
bay. On Tuesday the Virginia, Ccesar, King of
the East, and Pathfinder were destroyed between
the Foreland and Boulogne. The latter three
were actually lying in French waters, and the
most energetic representations have been made
by the Government of the Republic. On the
same day The Queen of Sheba, Orontes, Diana,
and Atalanta were destroyed near the Needles.
Wireless messages have stopped all ingoing cargo-
ships from coming up Channel, but unfortunately
there is evidence that at least two of the enemy's
submarines are in the West. Four cattle-ships
from Dublin to Liverpool were sunk yesterday
evening, while three Bristol-bound steamers, The
Hilda, Mercury, and Maria Toser, were blown
up in the neighbourhood of Lundy Island. Com-
merce has, so far as possible, been diverted intoDANGER!

29

safer channels, but in the meantime, however
vexatious these incidents may be, and however
grievous the loss both to the owners and to
Lloyd's, we may console ourselves by the reflec-
tion that since a submarine cannot keep the sea
for more than ten days without refitting, and
since the base has been captured, there must
come a speedy term to these depredations."

So much for the Courier's account of our pro-
ceedings. Another small paragraph was, how-
ever, more eloquent:—

" The price of wheat, which stood at thirty-
five shillings a week before the declaration
of war, was quoted yesterday on the Baltic at
fifty-two. Maize has gone from twenty-one to
thirty-seven, barley from nineteen to thirty-five,
sugar (foreign granulated) from eleven shillings
and threepence to nineteenshillings andsixpence."

" Good, my lads! " said I, when I read it to
the crew. " I can assure you that those few
lines will prove to mean more than the whole
page about the Fall of Blankenberg. Now let
us get down Channel and send those prices up
a little higher."

All traffic had stopped for London—not so
bad for the little Iota—and we did not see a
steamer that was worth a torpedo between
Dungeness and the Isle of Wight. There I called30

DANGER!

Stephan up by wireless, and by seven o'clock we
were actually lying side by side in a smooth
rolling sea—Hengistbury Head bearing N.N.W.
and about five miles distant. The two crews
clustered on the whale-backs and shouted their
joy at seeing friendly faces once more. Stephan
had done extraordinarily well. I had, of course,
read in the London paper of his four ships on
Tuesday, but he had sunk no fewer than seven
since, for many of those which should have come
to the Thames had tried to make Southampton.
Of the seven, one was of twenty thousand tons,
a grain-ship from America, a second was a grain-
ship from the Black Sea, and two others were
great liners from South Africa. I congratulated
Stephan with all my heart upon his splendid
achievement. Then as we had been seen by a
destroyer which was approaching at a great pace,
we both dived, coming up again off the Needles,
where we spent the night in company. We could
not visit each other, since we had no boat, but
we lay so nearly alongside that we were able,
Stephan and I, to talk from hatch to hatch and
so make our plans.

He had shot away more than half his torpe-
does, and so had I, and yet we were very averse
from returning to our base so long as our oil
held out. I told him of my experience with the
Boston steamer, and we mutually agreed to sink
the ships by gun-fire in future so far as possible.i

DANGER!

31

I remember old Horli saying, "What use is a
gun aboard a submarine ? " We were about to
show. I read the English paper to Stephan by
the light of my electric torch, and we both agreed
that few ships would now come up the Channel.
That sentence about diverting commerce to safer
routes could only mean that the ships would go
round the North of Ireland and unload at Glas-
gow. Oh, for two more ships to stop that en-
trance ! Heavens, what would England have
done against a foe with thirty or forty sub-
marines, since we only needed six instead of four
to complete her destruction! After much talk we
decided that the best plan would be that I should
dispatch a cipher telegram next morning from
a French port to tell them to send the four
second-rate boats to cruise off the North of
Ireland and West of Scotland. Then when I
had done this I should move down Channel with
Staphan and operate at the mouth, while the
other two boats could work in the Irish Sea.
Having made these plans, I set off across the
Channel in the early morning, reaching the small
village of Etretat, in Brittany. There I got off
my telegram and then laid my course for
Falmouth, passing under the keels of two
British cruisers which were making eagerly for
Etretat, having heard by wireless that we were
there.

Half-way down Channel we had trouble with a32

DANGER!

short circuit in our electric engines, and were
compelled to run on the surface for several hours
while we replaced one of the cam-shafts and
renewed some washers. It was a ticklish time,
for had a torpedo-boat come upon us we could
not have dived. The perfect submarine of the
future will surely have some alternative engines
for such an emergency. However by the skill
of Engineer Mowo, we got things going once
more. All the time we lay there I saw a hydro-
plane floating between us and the British coast.
I can understand how a mouse feels when
it is in a tuft of grass and sees a hawk high
up in the heavens. However, all went well;
the mouse became a water-rat, it wagged its
tail in derision at the poor blind old hawk,
and it dived down into a nice safe green,
quiet world where there was nothing to in-
jure it.

It was on the Wednesday night that the lota
crossed to Etretat. It was Friday afternoon
before we had reached our new cruising ground.
Only one large steamer did I see upon our way.
The terror we had caused had cleared the Channel.
This big boat had a clever captain on board.
His tactics were excellent and took him in safety
to the Thames. He came zigzagging up Channel
at twenty-five knots, shooting off from his course
at all sorts of unexpected angles. With our slow
pace we could not catch him, nor could weDANGER!

33

calculate his line so as to cut him off. Of course,
he had never seen us, but he judged, and judged
rightly, that wherever we were those were the
tactics by which he had the best chance of getting
past. He deserved his success.

But, of course, it is only in a wide Channel
that such things can be done. Had I met him
in the mouth of the Thames there would have
been a different story to tell. As I approached
Falmouth I destroyed a three-thousand-ton boat
from Cork, laden with butter and cheese. It was
my only success for three days.

That night (Friday, April 16th). I called up
Stephan, but received no reply. As I was within
a few miles of our rendezvous, and as he would
not be cruising after dark, I was puzzled to
account -for his silence. I could only imagine
that his wireless was deranged. But, alas ! I was
soon to find the true reason from a copy of the
Western Morning News, which I obtained from
a Brixham trawler. The Kappa, with her gallant
commander and crew, were at the bottom of the
English Channel.

It appeared from this account that after I
had parted from him he had met and sunk no
fewer than five vessels. I gathered these to be
his work, since all of them were by gun-fire, and
all were on the south coast of Dorset or Devon.
How he met his fate was stated in a short tele-
gram which was headed " Sinking of a Hostile34

DANGER!

Submarine." It was marked " Falmouth," and
ran thus:—

The P. and 0. mail steamer Macedonia came
into this port last night with five shell holes
between wind and water. She reports having
been attacked by a hostile submarine ten miles
to the south-east of the Lizard. Instead of using
her torpedoes, the submarine for some reason
approached from the surface and fired five shots
from a semi-automatic twelve-pounder gun. She
was evidently under the impression that the
Macedonia was unarmed. As a matter of fact,
being warned of the presence of submarines in
the Channel, the Macedonia had mounted her
armament as an auxiliary cruiser. She opened
fire with two quick-firers and blew away the
conning-tcwer of the submarine. It is probable
that the shells went right through her, as she
sank at once with her hatches open. The Mace-
donia was only kept afloat by her pumps.

Such was the end of the Kaffa, and my gallant
friend, Commander Stephan. His best epitaph
was in a corner of the same paper, and was
headed " Mark Lane." It ran:—

" Wheat (average) 66, maize 48, bailey 50."

Well, if Stephan was gone there was the more
need for me to show energy. My plans were
quickly taken, but they were comprehensive.
All that day (Saturday) I passed down the
Cornish coast and round Land's End, gettingDANGER!

35

two steamers on the way. I had learned from
Stephan's fate that it was better to torpedo the
large craft, but I was aware that the auxiliary
cruisers of the British Government were all over
ten thousand tons, so that for all ships under
that size it was safe to use my gun. Both these
craft, the Yelland and the Playboy—the latter
an American ship—were perfectly harmless, so
I came up within a hundred yards of them and
speedily sank them, after allowing their people
to get into boats. Some other steamers lay
farther out, but I was so eager to make my new
arrangements that I did not go out of my course
to molest them. Just before sunset, however,
so magnificent a prey came within my radius
of action that I could not possibly refuse her.
No sailor could fail to recognize that glorious
monarch of the sea, with her four cream funnels
tipped with black, her huge black sides, her red
bilges, and her high white top-hamper, roaring
up Channel at twenty-three knots, and carrying
her forty-five thousand tons as lightly as if she
were a five-ton motor-boat. It was the queenly
Olympic, of the White Star—once the largest
and still the comeliest of liners. What a picture
she made, with the blue Cornish sea creaming
round her giant fore-foot, and the pink western
sky with one evening star forming the back-
ground to her noble lines.

She was about five miles off when we dived36

DANGER!

to cut her off. My calculation was exact. Aa
we came abreast we loosed our torpedo and
struck her fair. We swirled round with the
concussion of the water. I saw her in my peri-
scope list over on her side, and I knew that she
had her death-blow. She settled down slowly,
and there was plenty of time to save her people.
The sea was dotted with her boats. When I got
about three miles off I rose to the surface, and
the whole crew clustered up to see the wonderful
sight. She dived bows foremost, and there was
a terrific explosion, which sent one of the funnels
into the air. I suppose we should have cheered
—somehow, none of us felt like cheering We
were all keen sailors, and it went to our hearts
to see such a ship go down like a broken egg-
shell. I gave a gruff order, and all were at their
posts again while we headed north-west. Once
round the Land's End I called up my two con-
sorts, and we met next day at Hartland Point,
the south end of Bideford Bay. For the moment
the Channel was clear, but the English could not
know it, and I reckoned that the loss of the
Olympic would stop all ships for a day or two
at least.

Having assembled the Delta and Epsilon, one
on each side of me, I received the report from
Miriam and Yar, the respective commanders.
Each had expended twelve torpedoes, and be-
tween them they had sunk twenty-two steamers.DANGER!

37

One man had been killed by the machinery on
board of the Delta, and two had been burned
by the ignition of some oil on the Epsibn. I
took these injured men on board, and I gave
each of the boats one of my crew. I also
divided my spare oil, my provisions, and my
torpedoes among them, though we had the
greatest possible difficulty in those crank vessels
in transferring them from one to the other.
However, by ten o'clock it was done, and the
two vessels were in condition to keep the sea
for another ten days. For my part, with only
two torpedoes left, I headed north up the Irish
Sea. One of my torpedoes I expended that even-
ing upon a cattle-ship making for Milford Haven.
Late at night, being abreast of Holyhead, I called
upon my four northern boats, but without reply.
Their Marconi range is very limited. About
three in the afternoon of the next day I had
a feeble answer. It was a great relief to me
to find that my telegraphic instructions had
reached them and that they were on their station.
Before evening we all assembled in the lee
of Sanda Island, in the Mull of Kintyre. I felt
an admiral indeed when I saw my five whale-
backs all in a row. Panza's report was excellent.
They had come round by the Pentland Firth
and reached their cruising ground on the fourth
day. Already they had destroyed twenty vessels
without any mishap. I ordered the Beta to38

DANGER!

divide her oil and torpedoes among the other
three, so that they were in good condition to
continue their cruise. Then the Beta and I
headed for home, reaching our base upon Sunday,
April 25th. Ofi Cape Wrath I picked up a paper
from a small schooner.

" Wheat, 84 ; Maize, 60 ; Barley, 62." What
were battles and bombardments compared to
that!

The whole coast of Norland was closely block-
aded by cordon within cordon, and every port,
even the smallest, held by the British. But
why should they suspect my modest confec-
tioner's villa more than any other of the ten
thousand houses that face the sea ? I was glad
when I picked up its homely white front in my
periscope. That night I landed and found my
stores intact. Before morning the Beta reported
itself, for we had the windows lit as a guide.

It is not for me to recount the messages which
I found waiting for me at my humble headquar-
ters. They shall ever remain as the patents of
nobility of my family. Among others was that
never-to-be-forgotten salutation from my King.
He desired me to present myself at Hauptville,
but for once I took it upon myself to disobey
his commands. It took me two days—or rather
two nights, for we sank ourselves during the
daylight hours—to get all our stores on board,
but my presence was needful every minute ofDANGER!

39

the time. On the third morning, at four o'clock,
the Beta and my own little flagship were at sea
once more, bound 'for our original station off
the mouth of the Thames.

- I had no time to read our papers whilst I
was refitting, but I gathered the news after we
got under way. The British occupied all our
ports, but otherwise we had not suffered at all,
since we have excellent railway communications
with Europe. Prices had altered little, and our
industries continued as before. There was talk
of a .British invasion, but this I knew to be
absolute nonsense, for the British must have
learned by this time that it would be sjheer
murder to send transports full of soldiers to sea
in the face of submarines. When they have a
tunnel they can use their fine expeditionary force
upon the Continent, but until then it might just
as well not exist so far as Europe is concerned.
My own country, therefore, was in good case
and had nothing to fear. Great Britain, how-
ever, was already feeling my grip upon her
throat. As in normal times four-fifths of her
food is imported, prices were rising by leaps and
bounds. The supplies in the country were be-
ginning to show signs of depletion, while little
was coming in to replace it. The insurances at
Lloyd's had risen to a figure which made the
price of the food prohibitive to the mass of the
people by the time it had reached the market.
440	DANGER!

The loaf, which, under ordinary circumstances
stood at fivepence, was already at one and two-
pence. Beef was three shillings and fourpence
a pound, and mutton two shillings and ninepence.
Everything else was in proportion. The Gov-
ernment had acted with energy and offered a big
bounty for corn to be planted at once. It could
only be reaped five months hence, however, and
long before then, as the papers pointed out, half
the island would be dead from starvation. Strong
appeals had been made to the patriotism of the
people, and they were assured that the interfer-
ence with, trade was temporary, and that with a
little patience all would be well. But already
there was a marked rise in the death-rate,
especially among children, who suffered from
want of milk, the cattle being slaughtered for
food. There was serious rioting in the Lanark-
shire coalfields and in the Midlands, together
with a Socialistic upheaval in the East of London,
which had assumed the proportions of a civil
war. Already there were responsible papers
which declared that England was in an impossible
position, and that an immediate peace was neces-
sary to prevent one of the greatest tragedies
in history. It was my task now to prove to
them that they were right.

It was May 2nd when I found myself back
at the Maplin Sands to the north of the estuary
of the Thames. The Beta was sent on to theDANGER!

41

Solent to block it and take the place of the
lamented Kappa. And now I was throttling
Britain indeed—London, Southampton, the Bris-
tol Channel, Liverpool, the North Channel, the
Glasgow approaches, each was guarded by my
boats. Great liners were, as we learned after-
wards, pouring their supplies into Galway and
the West of Ireland, where provisions were
cheaper than has ever been known. Tens of
thousands were embarking from Britain for
Ireland in order to save themselves from starva-
tion. But you cannot transplant a whole dense
population. The main body of the people, by
the middle of May, were actually starving. At
that date wheat was at a hundred, maize and
barley at eighty. Even the most obstinate had
begun to see that the situation could not possibly
continue.

In the great towns starving crowds clamoured
for bread before the municipal offices, and public
officials everywhere were attacked and often
murdered by frantic mobs, composed largely of
desperate women who had seen their infants
perish before their eyes. In the country, roots,
bark, and weeds of every sort were used as food.
In London the private mansions of Ministers
were guarded by strong pickets of soldiers, while
a battalion of Guards was camped permanently
round the Houses of Parliament. The lives of
the Prime Minister and of the Foreign Secretary42

DANGER!

were continually threatened and occasionally
attempted. Yet the Government had entered
■upon the war with the full assent of every party
in the State. The true culprits were those, be
they politicians or journalists, who had not the
foresight to understand that unless Britain grew
her own supplies, or unless by means of a tunnel
she had some way of conveying them into the
island, all her mighty expenditure upon her army
and her fleet was a mere waste of money so long
as her antagonists had a few submarines and
men who could use them. England has often
been stupid, but has got off scot-free. This
time she was stupid and had to pay the price.
You can't expect Luck to be your saviour always.

It would be a mere repetition of what I have
already described if I were to recount all our
proceedings during that first ten days after I
resumed my station. During my absence the
ships had taken heart and had begun to come
up again. In the first day I got four. After
that I had to go farther afield, and again I
picked up several in French waters. Once I
had a narrow escape through one of my kingston
valves getting some grit into it and refusing to
act when I was below the surface. Our margin
of buoyancy just carried us through. By the
end of that week the Channel was clear again,
and both Beta and my own boat were down
West once more. There we had encouragingDANGER!

43

messages from our Bristol consort, who in turn
had heard from Delta at Liverpool. Our task
was completely done. We could not prevent all
food from passing into the British Islands, but
at least we had raised what did get in to a price
which put it far beyond the means of jihe penni-
less, workless multitudes. In vain Government
commandeered it all and doled it out as a general
feeds the garrison of a fortress. The task was
too great—the responsibility too horrible. Even
the proud and stubborn English could not face
it any longer.

I remember well how the news came to me.
I was lying at the time off Selsey Bill when I
saw a small war-vessel coming down Channel.
It had never been my policy to attack any vessel
coming down. My torpedoes and even my shells
were too precious for that. I could not help
being attracted, however, by the movements of
this ship, which came slowly zigzagging in my
direction.

• "Looking for me," thought I. "What on
earth does the foolish thing hope to do if she
could find me ? "

I was lying awash at the time and got ready
to go below in case she should come for me.
But at that moment—she was about half a mile
away—she turned her quarter, and there to my
amazement was the red flag with the blue circle,
our own beloved flag, flying from her peak. Fbr44

DANGER!

a moment I thought that this was some clever
dodge of the enemy to tempt me within range.
I snatched up my glasses and called on Vornal.
Then we both recognized the vessel. It was the
Juno, the only one left intact of our own cruisers.
What could she be doing flying the flag in the
enemy's waters ? Then I understood it, and
turning to Vornal, we threw ourselves into each
other's arms. It could only mean an armistice—
or peace!

And it was peace. We learned the glad news
when we had risen alongside the Juno, and the
ringing cheers which greeted us had at last died
away. Our orders were to report ourselves at
once at Blankenberg. Then she passed on down
Channel to collect the others. We returned to
port upon the surface, steaming through the
whole British fleet as we passed up* the North
Sea. The crews clustered thick along the sides
of the vessels to watch us. I can see now their
sullen, angry faces. Many shook their fists and
cursed us as we went by. It was not that we
had damaged them—Lwill do them the justice
to say that the English, as the old Boer War
has proved, bear no resentment against a brave
enemy—but that they thought us cowardly to
attack merchant ships and avoid the warships.
It is like the Arabs who think that a flank attack
is a mean, unmanly device. War is not a big
game, my English friends. It is a desperateDANGER!

45

business to gain the upper hand, and one must
use one's brain in order to find the weak spot
of one's enemy. It is not fair to blame me if
I have found yours. It was my duty. Perhaps
those officers and sailors who scowled at the little
Iota that May morning have by this time done
me justice when the first bitterness of undeserved
defeat was passed.

Let others describe my entrance into Blank-
enberg; the mad enthusiasm of the crowds, and
the magnificent public reception of each succes-
sive boat as it arrived. Surely the men deserved
the grant made them by the State which has
enabled each of them to be independent for life.
As a feat of endurance, that long residence in
such a state of mental tension in cramped quar-
ters, breathing an unnatural atmosphere, will
long remain as a record. The country may well
be proud of such sailors.

The terms of peace were not made onerous, for
we were in no condition to make Great Britain
our permanent enemy. We knew well that we
had won the war by circumstances which would
never be allowed to occur again, and that in a
few years the Island Power would be as strong
as ever—stronger, perhaps—for the lesson that
she had learned. It would be madness to pro-
voke such an antagonist. A mutual salute of
flags was arranged, the Colonial boundary was
adjusted by arbitration, and we claimed no in-46

DANGER!

demnity beyond an undertaking on the part of
Britain that she would pay any damages which
an International Court might award to France
or to the United States for injury received
through the operations of our submarines. So
ended the war!

Of course, England will not be caught napping
in such a fashion again! Her foolish blindness
is partly explained by her delusion that her
enemy would not torpedo merchant vessels.
Common sense should have told her that her
enemy will play the game that suits them best—
that they will not inquire what they may do, but
they will do it first and talk about it afterwards.
The opinion of the whole world now is that if a
blockade were proclaimed one may do what one
can with those who try to break it, and that it
was as reasonable to prevent food from reaching
England in war time as it is for a besieger to
prevent the victualling of a beleaguered fortress.

I cannot end this account better than by
quoting the first few paragraphs of a leader in
the Times, which appeared shortly after the
declaration of peace. It may be taken to epito-
mize the saner public opinion of England upon
the meaning and lessons of the episode.

" In all this miserable business," said the
writer, which has cost us the loss of a consider-
able portion of our merchant fleet and more thanDANGER!

47

fifty thousand civilian lives, there is just one
consolation to be found. It lies in the fact that
our temporary conqueror is a Power which is
not strong enough to reap the fruits of her
victory. Had we endured this humiliation at
the hands of any of the first-class Powers it
would certainly have entailed the loss of all our
Crown Colonies and tropical possessions, besides
the payment of a huge indemnity. We were
absolutely at the feet of our conqueror and had
no possible alternative but to submit to her
terms, however onerous. Norland has had the
good sense to understand that she must not
abuse her temporary advantage, and has been
generous in her dealings. In the grip of any
other Power we should have ceased to exist as
an Empire.

"Even now we are not out of the wood.
Some one may maliciously pick a quarrel with
us before we get our house in order, and use the
easy weapon which has been demonstrated. It
is to meet such a contingency that the Govern-
ment has rushed enormous stores of food at the
public expense into the country. In a very few
months the new harvest will have appeared. On
the whole we can face the immediate future
without undue depression, though there remain
some causes for anxiety. These will no doubt
be energetically handled by this new and efficient
Government, whch has taken the place of those
discredited politicians who led us into a war
without having foreseen how helpless we were
against an obvious form of attack.48

DANGER!

"Already tlie lines of our reconstruction are
evident. The first and most important is that
our Party men realize that there is something
more vital than their academic disputes about
Free Trade or Protection, and that all theory
must give way to the fact that a country is in
an artificial and dangerous condition if she does
not produce within her own borders sufficient
food to at least keep life in her population.
Whether this should be brought about by a tax
upon foreign foodstuffs* or by a bounty upon
home products, or by a combination of the two,
is now under discussion. But all Parties are
combined upon the principle, and, though it will
undoubtedly entail either a rise in prices or a
deterioration in quality in the food of the work-
ing-classes, they will at least be insured against
so terrible a visitation as that which is fresh in
our memories. At any rate, we have got past
the stage of argument. It must be so. The
increased prosperity of the farming interest, and,
as we will hope, the cessation of agricultural
emigration, will be benefits to be counted against
the obvious disadvantages.

" The second lesson is the immediate construc-
tion of not one but two double-lined railways
under the Channel. We stand in a white sheet
over the matter, since the project has always
been discouraged in these columns, but we are
prepared to admit that had such railway com-
munication been combined with adequate
arrangements for forwarding supplies from
Marseilles, we should have avoided our recentDANGER!

49

surrender. We still insist that we cannot trust
entirely to a tunnel, since our enemy might have
allies in the Mediterranean; but in a single con-
test with any Power of the North of Europe it
would certainly be of inestimable benefit. There
may be dangers attendant upon the existence of
a tunnel, but it must now be admitted that they
are trivial compared to those which come from
its absence. As to the building of large fleets
of merchant submarines for the carriage of food,
that is a new departure which will be an addi-
tional insurance against the danger which has
left so dark a page in the history of our country."II

ONE CROWDED HOUB

The place was the Eastbourne-Tunbridge road,
not very far from the Cross in Hand—a lonely
stretch, with a heath running upon either side.
The time was half-past eleven upon a Sunday
night in the late summer. A motor was passing
slowly down the road.

It was a long, lean Rolls-Royce, running
smoothly with a gentle purring of the engine.
Through the two vivid circles cast by the
electric head-lights the waving grass fringes
and clumps of heather streamed swiftly like
some golden cinematograph, leaving a blacker
darkness behind and around them. One ruby-
red spot shone upon the road, but no number-
plate was visible within the dim ruddy halo
of the tail-lamp which cast it. The car was
open and of a tourist type, but even in that
obscure light, for the night was moonless, an
observer could hardly fail to have noticed a
curious indefiniteness in its lines. As it slid
into and across the broad stream of light from

50ONE CROWDED HOUR	51

an open cottage door the reason could be seen.
The body was hung with a singular loose ar-
rangement of brown holland. Even the long
black bonnet was banded with some close-drawn
drapery.

The solitary man who drove this curious
car was broad and burly. He sat hunched
up over his steering-wheel, with the brim of a
Tyrolean hat drawn down over his eyes. The
red end of a cigarette smouldered under the
black shadow ' thrown by the headgear. A
dark ulster of some frieze-like material was
turned up in the collar until it covered his
ears. His neck was pushed forward from his
rounded shoulders, and he seemed, as the car
now slid noiselessly down the long, sloping
road, with the clutch disengaged and the engine
running free, to be peering ahead of him through
the darkness in search of some eagerly-expected
object.

The distant toot of a motor-horn came faintly
from some point far to the south of him. On
such a night, at such a place, all traffic must be
from south to north when the current of London
week-enders sweeps back from the watering-
place to the capital—from pleasure to "duty.
The man sat straight and listened intently.
Yes, there it was again, and certainly to the
south of him. His face was over the wheel
and his eyes strained through the darkness.

52	ONE CROWDED HOUR

Then suddenly he spat out his cigarette and
gave a sharp intake of the breath. Far away
down the road two little yellow points had
rounded a curve. They vanished into a dip,
shot upwards once more, and then vanished
again. The inert man in the draped car woke
suddenly into intense life. From his pocket he
pulled a mask of dark cloth, which he fastened
securely across his face, adjusting it care-
fully that his sight might be unimpeded. For
an instant he uncovered an acetylene hand-
lantern, took a hasty glance at his own prepara-
tions, and laid it beside a Mauser pistol upon
the seat alongside him. Then, twitching his
hat down lower than ever, he released his clutch
and slid downward his gear-lever. With a
chuckle and shudder the long, black machine
sprang forward, and shot with a soft sigh from
her powerful engines down the sloping gradient.
The driver stooped and switched off his electric
head-lights. Only a dim grey swathe cut through
the black heath indicated the line of his road.
From in front there came presently a confused
puffing and rattling and clanging as the oncoming
car breasted the slope. It coughed and splut-
tered on a powerful, old-fashioned low gear,
while its engine throbbed like a weary heart.
The yellow, glaring lights dipped for the last
time into a switchback curve. When they reap-
peared over the crest the two cars were withinONE CROWDED HOUR	53

thirty yards of each other. The dark one
dartecl across the road and barred the other's
passage, while a warning acetylene lamp was
waved in the air. With a jarring of brakes the
noisy new-comer was brought to a halt.

" I say," cried an aggrieved voice, " 'pon
my soul, you know, we might have had an
accident. Why the devil don't you keep your
head-lights on ? I never saw you till I nearly
burst my radiators on you! "

The acetylene lamp, held forward, discovered
a very angry young man, blue-eyed, yellow-
moustached, and florid, sitting alone at the wheel
of an antiquated twelve-horse Wolseley. Sud-
denly the aggrieved look upon his flushed face
changed to one of absolute bewilderment.
The driver in the dark car had sprung out of
the seat, a black, long-barrelled, wicked-looking
pistol was poked in the traveller's face, and
behind the further sights of it was a circle of
black cloth with two deadly eyes looking from
as many slits.

" Hands up! " said a quick, stern voice.

" Hands up ! or, by the Lord--"

The young man was as brave as his neigh-
bours, but the hands went up all the same.
" Get down ! " said his assailant, curtly.
The young man stepped forth into the road,
followed closely by the covering lantern and
pistol. Once he made as if he would drop his54	ONE CROWDED HOUR

hands, but a short, stern word jerked them up
again.

" I say, look here, this is rather out o' date,
ain't it ? " said the traveller. " I expect you're
joking—what ? "

" Your watch," said the man behind the
Mauser pistol.

" You can't really mean it! "

" Your watch, I say! "

" Well, take it, if you must. It's only plated,
anyhow. You're two centuries out in time,
or a few thousand miles longitude. The bush
is your mark—or America. You don't seem
in the picture on a Sussex road."

" Purse," said the man. There was some-
thing very compelling in his voice and methods.
The purse was handed over.

"Any rings?"

" Don't wear 'em."

" Stand there ! Don't move ! "
The highwayman passed his victim and threw
open the bonnet of the Wolseley. His hand, with
a pair of steel pliers, was thrust deep into the
works. There was the snap of a parting wire.

" Hang it all, don't crock my car!"
cried the traveller.

He turned, but quick as a flash the pistol was
at his head once more. And yet even in that
flash, whilst the robber whisked round from the
broken circuit, something had caught the youngONE CROWDED HOUR	55

man's eye which, made him gasp and start. He
opened his mouth as if about to shout some words.
Then with an evident effort he restrained himself.

" Get in," said the highwayman.

The traveller climbed back to his seat.

" What is your name ? "

" Ronald Barker. What's yours ? "

The masked man ignored the impertinence.

" Where do you live % " he asked.

" My cards are in my purse. Take one."

The highwayman sprang into his car, the
engine of which had hissed and whispered in
gentle accompaniment to the interview. With
a clash he threw back his side-brake, flung in
his gears, twirled the wheel hard round, and
cleared the motionless Wolseley. A minute
later he was gliding swiftly, with all his lights
gleaming, some half-mile southward on the
road, while Mr. Ronald Barker, a side-lamp
in his hand, was rummaging furiously among
the odds and ends of his repair-box for a strand
of wire which would connect up his electricity
and set him on his way once more.

When he had placed a safe distance between
himself and his victim, the adventurer eased
up, took his booty from his pocket, replaced
the watch, opened the purse, and counted out
the money. Seven shillings constituted the
miserable spoil. The poor result of his efEorts
seemed to amuse rather than annoy him, for
556	ONE CROWDED HOUR

he chuckled as he held the two half-crowns
and the florin in the glare of his lantern. Then
suddenly his manner changed. He thrust the
thin purse back into his pocket, released his
brake, and shot onwards with the same tense
bearing with which he had started upon his
adventure. The lights of another car were
coming down the road.

On this occasion the methods of the high-
wayman were less furtive. Experience had
clearly given him confidence. With lights still
blazing, he ran towards the new-comers, and,
halting in the middle of the road, summoned
them to stop. From the point of view of the
astonished travellers the result was sufficiently
impressive. They saw in the glare of their
own head-lights two glowing discs on either
side of the long, black-muzzled snout of a
high-power car, and above the masked face
and menacing figure of its solitary driver.
In the golden circle thrown by the rover there
stood an elegant, open-topped, twenty-horse
Humber, with an undersized and very astonished
chauffeur blinking from under his peaked cap.
From behind the wind-screen the veil-bound
hats and wondering faces of two very pretty
young women protruded, one upon either side,
and a little crescendo of frightened squeaks
announced the acute emotion of one of them.
The other was cooler and more critical.ONE CROWDED HOUR	57

" Don't give it away, Hilda," she whispered.
" Do shut up, and don't be such a silly. It's
Bertie or one of the boys playing it on us."

" No, no ! It's the real thing, Flossie. It's
a robber, sure enough. Oh, my goodness,
whatever shall we do ? "

" What an ' ad.'! " cried the other. " Oh,
what a glorious ' ad.'! Too late now for the
mornings, but they'll have it in every evening
paper, sure."

" What's it going to cost ? " groaned the
other. " Oh, Flossie, Flossie, I'm sure I'm
going to faint! Don't you think if we both
screamed together we could do some good ?
Isn't he too awful with that black thing over
his face ? Oh, dear, oh, dear! He's killing
poor little Alf ! "

The proceedings of the robber were indeed
somewhat alarming. Springing down from his
car, he had pulled the chauffeur out of his seat
by the scruff of his neck. The sight of the
Mauser had cut short all remonstrance, and
under its compulsion the little man had pulled
open the bonnet and extracted the sparking
plugs. Having thus secured the immobility
of Ms capture, the masked man walked forward,
lantern in hand, to the side of the car. He
had laid aside the gruff sternness with which
he had treated Mr. Ronald Barker, and his
voice and manner were gentle, though deter-58	ONE CROWDED HOUR

mined. He even raised Ms hat as a prelude to
his address.

"I am sorry to inconvenience you, ladies/'
said he, and his voice had gone up several notes
since the previous interview. " May I ask who
you are ? "

Miss Hilda was beyond coherent speech, but
Miss Flossie was of a sterner mould.

" This is a pretty business," said she. "What
right have you to stop us on the public road,
I should like to know ? "

" My time is short," said the robber, in a
sterner voice. " I must ask you to answer my
question."

" Tell him, Flossie! For goodness' sake be
nice to him! " cried Hilda.

" Well, we're from the Gaiety Theatre, London,
if you want to know," said the young lady.
" Perhaps you've heard of Miss Flossie Thornton
and Miss Hilda Mannering ? WeVe been play-
ing a week at the Royal at Eastbourne, and took
a Sunday ofi to ourselves. So now you know! "

" I must ask you for your purses and for
your jewellery."

Both ladies set up shrill expostulations, but
they found, as Mr. Ronald Barker had done,
that there was something quietly compelling
in this man's methods. In a very few minutes
they had handed over their purses, and a pile
of glittering rings, bangles, brooches, and chainsONE CROWDED HOUR	59

was lying upon the front seat of the car. The
diamonds glowed and shimmered like little
electric points in the light of the lantern. He
picked up the glittering tangle and weighed it
in his hand.

" Anything you particularly value ? " he asked
the ladies; but Miss Flossie was in no humour
for concessions.

" Don't come the Claude Duval over us,"
said she. " Take the lot or leave the lot. We
don't want bits of our own given back to
us."

" Except just Billy's necklace! " cried Hilda,
and snatched at a little rope of pearls. The
robber bowed, and released his hold of it.

" Anything else 1 "

The valiant Flossie began suddenly to cry.
Hilda did the same. The effect upon the
robber was surprising. He threw the whole
heap of jewellery into the nearest lap.

"There! there! Take it! " he said. "It's
trumpery stuff, anyhow. It's worth something
to you, and nothing to me."

Tears changed in a moment to smiles.

"You're welcome to the purses. The 'ad.'
is worth ten times the money. But what a
funny way of getting a living nowadays! Aren't
you afraid of being caught ? It's all so wonder-
ful, like a scene from a comedy."

" It may be a tragedy," said the robber.60	ONE CROWDED HOUR

" Oh, I hope not—I'm sure I hope not! "
cried the two ladies of the drama.

But the robber was in no mood for further
conversation. Far away down the road tiny
points of light had appeared. Fresh business
was coming to him, and he must not mix his
cases. Disengaging his machine, he raised his
hat, and slipped off to meet this new arrival,
while Miss Flossie and Miss Hilda leaned out
of their derelict car, still palpitating from their
adventure, and watched the red gleam of the
tail-light until it merged into the darkness.

This time there was every sign of a rich prize.
Behind its four grand lamps set in a broad
frame of glittering brasswork the magnificent
sixty-horse Daimler breasted the slope with the
low, deep, even snore which proclaimed its
enormous latent strength. Like some rich-
laden, high-pooped Spanish galleon, she kept
her course until the prowling craft ahead of her
swept across her bows and brought her to a
sudden halt. An angry face, red, blotched, and
evil, shot out of the open window of the closed
limousine. The robber was aware of a high,
bald forehead, gross pendulous cheeks, and
two little crafty eyes which gleamed between
creases of fat.

" Out of my way, sir! Out of my way this
instant! " cried a rasping voice. " Drive over
him, Hearn! Get down and pull him offONE CROWDED HOUR	61

the seat. The fellow's drunk—he's drunk I
say! "

Up to this point the proceedings of the modern
highwayman might have passed as gentle.
Now they turned in an instant to savagery.
The chauffeur, a burly, capable fellow, incited
by that raucous voice behind him, sprang from
the car and seized the advancing robber by
the throat. The latter hit out with the butt-
end of his pistol, and the man dropped groaning
on the road. Stepping over his prostrate body
the adventurer pulled open the door, seized
the stout occupant savagely by the ear, and
dragged him bellowing on to the highway.
Then, very deliberately, he struck him twice
across the face with his open hand. The blows
rang out like pistol-shots in the silence of the
night. The fat traveller turned a ghastly
colour and fell back half senseless against the
side of the limousine. The robber dragged open
his coat, wrenched away the heavy gold watch-
chain with all that it held, plucked out the
great diamond pin that sparkled in the black
satin tie, dragged off four rings—not one of
which could have cost less than three figures—
and finally tore from his inner pocket a bulky
leather note-book. All this property he trans-
ferred to his own black overcoat, and added to
it the man's pearl cuff-links, and even the golden
stud which held his collar. Having made sure62	ONE CROWDED HOUR

that there was nothing else to take, the robber
flashed -his lantern upon the prostrate chauffeur,
and satisfied himself that he was stunned and
not dead. Then, returning to the master, he
proceeded very deliberately to tear all his
clothes from his body with a ferocious energy
which set his victim whimpering and writhing
in imminent expectation of murder. "

Whatever his tormentor's intention may have
been, it was very effectually frustrated. A
sound made him turn his head, and there, no
very great distance off, were the lights of a
car coming swiftly from the north. Such a
car must have already passed the wreckage
which this pirate had left behind him. It
was following his track with a deliberate purpose,
and might be crammed with every county
constable of the district.

The adventurer had no time to lose. He
darted from his bedraggled victim, sprang into
his own seat, and with his foot on the accelerator
shot swiftly off down the road. Some way
down there was a narrow side lane, and into this
the fugitive turned, cracking on his high speed
and leaving a good five miles between him and
any pursuer before he ventured to stop. Then,
in a quiet corner, he counted over his booty of
the evening—the paltry plunder of Mr. Ronald
Barker, the rather better-furnished purses of
the actresses, which contained four poundsONE CROWDED HOUR	63

between them, and, finally, the gorgeous jewellery
and well-filled note-book of the plutocrat upon
the Daimler. Five notes of fifty pounds, four
of ten, fifteen sovereigns, and a number of
valuable papers made up a most noble haul.
It was clearly enough for one night's work.
The adventurer replaced all his ill-gotten gains
in his pocket, and, lighting a cigarette, set
forth upon his way with the air of a man who
has no further care upon his mind.

It was on the Monday morning following
upon this eventful evening that Sir Henry
Hailworthy, of Walcot Old Place, having finished
his breakfast in a leisurely fashion, strolled
down to his study with the intention of writing
a few letters before setting forth to take his
place upon the county bench. Sir Henry was
a Deputy-Lieutenant of the county; he was a
baronet of ancient blood; he was a magistrate
of ten years' standing; and he was famous
above all as the breeder of many a good horse
and the most desperate rider in all the Weald
country. A tall, upstanding man, with a strong,
clean-shaven face, heavy black eyebrows, and
a square, resolute jaw, he was one whom it was
better to call friend than foe. Though nearly
fifty years of age, he bore no sign of having
passed his youth, save that Nature, in one of her
freakish moods, had planted one little feather64	ONE CROWDED HOUR

of white hair above his right ear, making the
rest of his thick black curls the darker by con-
trast. He was in thoughtful mood this morn-
ing, for having lit his pipe he sat at his desk
with his blank note-paper in front of him, lost
in a deep reverie.

Suddenly his thoughts were brought back to
the present. From behind the laurels of the
curving drive there came a low, clanking sound,
which swelled into the clatter and jingle of
an ancient car. Then from round the corner
there swung an old-fashioned Wolseley, with
a fresh-complexioned, yellow-moustached young
man at the wheel. , Sir Henry sprang to his
feet at the sight, and then sat down once more.
He rose again as a minute later the footman
announced Mr. Ronald Barker. It was an
early visit, but Barker was Sir Henry's intimate
friend. As each was a fine shot, horseman, and
billiard-player, there was much in common
between the two men, and the younger (and
poorer) was in the habit of spending at least
'two evenings a week at Walcot Old Place.
Therefore, Sir Henry advanced cordially with
outstretched hand to welcome him.

" You're an early bird this morning," said
he. " What's up ? If you are going over to
Lewes we could motor together."

But the younger man's demeanour was peculiar
and ungracious. He disregarded the hand whichONE CROWDED HOUR	65

was held out to him, and he stood pulling at
his own long moustache and staring with
troubled, questioning eyes at the county magis-
trate.

" Well, what's the matter ? " asked the latter.

Still the young man did not speak. He was
clearly on the edge of an interview which he
found it most difficult to open. His host grew
impatient.

" You don't seem yourself this morning.
What on earth is the matter ? Anything upset
you ? "

" Yes," said Ronald Barker, with emphasis.

" What has ? "

" You have."

Sir Henry smiled. " Sit down, my dear
fellow. If you have any grievance against
me, let me hear it."

Barker sat down. He seemed to be gather-
ing himself for a reproach. When it did come
it was like a bullet from a gun.

" Why did you rob me last night ? "

The magistrate was a man of iron nerve.
He showed neither surprise nor resentment.
Not a muscle twitched upon his calm, set
face.

" Why do you say that I robbed you last
night ? "

" A big, tall fellow in a motor-car stopped
me on the Mayfield road. He poked a pistol66	ONE CROWDED HOUR

in my face and took my purse and my watch.
Sir Henry, that man was you."

The magistrate smiled.

" Am I the only big, tall man in the district ?
Am I the only man with a motor-car ? "

" Do you think I couldn't tell a Rolls-Royce
when I see it—I, who spend half my life on a
car and the other half under it ? Who has
a Rolls-Royce about here except you ? "

" My dear Barker, don't you thinS that
such a modern highwayman as you describe
would be more likely to operate outside his
own district ? How many hundred Rolls-Royces
are there in the South of England ? "

"No, it won't do, Sir Henry—it won't do!
Even your voice, though you sunk it a few
notes, was familiar enough to me. But hang
it, man! What did you do it for ? That's
what gets over me. That you should stick
up me, one of your closest friends, a man that
worked himself to the bone when you stood for
the division—and all for the sake of a Brum-
magem watch and a few shillings—is simply
incredible."

" Simply incredible," repeated the magistrate,
with a smile.

" And then those actresses, poor little devils,
who have to earn all they get. I followed you
down the road, you see. That was a dirty trick,
if ever I heard one. The City shark was differ-ONE CROWDED HOUR	67

ent. If a chap must go a-robbing, that sort of
fellow is fair game. But your friend, and then
the girls—well, I say again, I couldn't have be-
lieved it."

" Then why believe it ? "

" Because it is so."

" Well, you seem to have persuaded yourself
to that effect. You don't seem to have much
evidence to lay before any one else."

" I could swear to you in a police-court.
What put the lid on it was that when you were
cutting my wire—and an infernal liberty it
was!—I saw that white tuft of yours sticking
out from behind your mask."

For the first time ah acute observer might
have seen some slight sign of emotion upon the
face of the baronet.

" You seem to have a fairly vivid imagina-
tion," said he.

His visitor flushed with anger.

"See here, Hailworthy," said he, opening
his hand and showing a small, jagged triangle
of black cloth. " Do you see that ? It was
on the ground near the car of the young women.
You must have ripped it off as you jumped
out from your seat. Now send for that heavy
black driving-coat of yours. If you don't ring
the bell I'll ring it myself, and we shall have
it in. I'm going to see this thing through, and
don't you make any mistake about that."68	ONE CROWDED HOUR

The baronet's answer was a surprising one.
He rose, passed Barker's chair, and, walking
over to the door, lie locked it and placed the
key in his pocket.

" You are going to see it through," said he.
" I'll lock you in until you do. Now we must
have a straight talk, Barker, as man to man,
and whether it ends in tragedy or not depends
on you."

He had half-opened one of the drawers in his
desk as he spoke. His visitor frowned in anger.

" You won't make matters any better by
threatening me, Hailworthy. I am going to
do my duty, and you won't bluff me out of it."

" I have no wish to bluff you. When I
spoke of a tragedy I did not mean to you.
What I meant was that there are some turns
which this affair cannot be allowed to take.
I have neither kith nor kin, but there is the
family honour, and some things are impossible."

" It is late to talk like that."

" Well, perhaps it is; but not too late. And
now I have a good deal to say to you. First
of all, you are quite right, and it was I who held
you up last night on the Mayfield road."

" But why on earth-"

" All right. Let me tell it my own
way. First I want you to look at these." He
unlocked a drawer and he took out two small
packages. " These were to be posted in LondonONE CROWDED HOUR	69

to-night. This one is addressed to you, and I
may as well hand it over to you at once. It
contains your watch and your purse. So, you
see, bar your cut wire you would have been
none the worse for your adventure. This other
packet is addressed to the young ladies of the
Gaiety Theatre, and their properties are en-
closed. I hope I have convinced you that I
had intended full reparation in each case before
you came to accuse me %"

" Well ? " asked Barker.

" Well, we will now deal with Sir George
Wilde, who is, as you may not know, the senior
partner of Wilde and Guggendorf, the founders
of the Ludgate Bank of infamous memory.
His chauffeur is a case apart. You may take
it from me, upon my word of honour, that I
had plans for the chauffeur. But it is the master
that I want to speak of. You know that I am
not a rich man myself. I expect all the county
knows that. When Black Tulip lost the Derby
I was hard hit. And other things as well.
Then I had a legacy of a thousand. This in-
fernal bank was paying 7 per cent, on deposits.
I knew Wilde. I saw him. I asked him if
it was safe. He said it was. I paid it in, and
within forty-eight hours the whole thing went
to bits. It came out before the Official Receiver
that Wilde had known for three months that
nothing could save him. And yet he took all70	ONE CROWDED HOUR

my cargo aboard his sinking vessel. He was
all right—confound him! He had plenty be-
sides. But I had lost all my money and no
law could help me. Yet he had robbed me as
clearly as one man could rob another. I saw
him and he laughed in my face. Told me to
stick to Consols, and that the lesson was cheap
at the price. So I just swore that, by hook or
by crook, I would get level with him. I knew
his habits, for I had made it my business to do
so. I knew that he came back from Eastbourne
on Sunday nights. I knew that he carried a
good sum with him in his pocket-book. Well
it's my pocket-book now. Do you mean to
tell me that I'm not morally justified in what I
have done ? By the Lord, I'd have left the
devil as bare as he left many a widow and orphan
if I'd had the time ! "

" That's all very well. But what about me ?
What about the girls ? "

" Have some common sense, Barker. Do you
suppose that I could go and stick up this one
personal enemy of mine and escape detection ?
It was impossible. I was bound to make my-
self out to be just a common robber who had
run up against him by accident. So I turned
myself loose on the high road and took my
chance. As the devil would have it, the first
man I met was yourself. I was a fool not to
recognise that old ironmonger's store of yoursONE CROWDED HOUR	71

by the rowfit made coming up the hill. When
I saw you I could hardly speak for laughing.
But I was bound to carry it through. The
same with the actresses. I'm afraid I gave
myself away, for I couldn't take their little
fal-lals, but I had to keep up a show. Then
came my man himself. There was no bluff
about that. I was out to skin him, and I did.
Now, Barker, what do you think of it all ?
I had a pistol at your head last night, and, by
George! whether you believe it or not, you have
one at mine this morning ! "

The young man rose slowly, and with a broad
smile he wrung the magistrate by the hand.

" Don't do it again. It's too risky," said he.
" The swine would score heavily if you were
taken."

" You're a good chap, Barker," said the
magistrate. "No, I won't do it again. Who's
the fellow who talks of ' one crowded hour of
glorious life' ? By George! it's too fascinating.
I had the time of my life! Talk of fox-hunting!
No, I'll never touch it again, for it might get a
grip of me."

A telephone rang sharply upon the table, and
the baronet put the receiver to his ear. As he
listened he smiled across at his companion.

" I'm rather late this morning," said he, " and
they are waiting for me to try some petty lar-
cenies on the county bench."

6Ill

A POINT OF VIEW

It was an American journalist who was writing
up England—or writing her down as the mood
seized him. Sometimes he blamed and some-
times he praised, and the case-hardened old
country actually went its way all the time
quite oblivious of his approval or of his dis-
favour—being ready at all times, through some
queer mental twist, to say more bitter things
and more unjust ones about herself than any
critic could ever venture upon. However, in
the course of his many columns in the New
York Clarion our journalist did at last get
through somebody's skin in the way that is
here narrated.

It was a kindly enough article upon English
country-house life in which he had described
a visit paid for a week-end to Sir Henry Trus-
tall's. There was only a single critical passage
in it, and it was one which he had written with
a sense both of journalistic and of democratic
satisfaction. In it he had sketched off the

72A POINT OF VIEW

73

lofty obsequiousness of the flunkey who had
ministered to his needs. > " He seemed to take
a smug satisfaction in his own degradation,"
said he. " Surely the last spark of manhood
must have gone from the man who has so
entirely lost his own individuality. He revelled
in humility. He was an instrument of service
—nothing more."

Some months had passed and our American
Pressman had recorded impressions from St.
Petersburg to Madrid. He was on his home-
ward way when once again he found himself
the guest of Sir Henry. He had returned from
an afternoon's shooting, and had finished dress-
ing when there was a knock at the door and
the footman entered. He was a large cleanly-
built man, as is proper to a class who are chosen
with a keener eye to physique than any crack
regiment. The American supposed that the
man had entered to perform some menial service,
but to his surprise he softly closed the door
behind him.

" Might I have a word with you, sir, if you
can kindly give me a moment ? " he said in the
velvety voice which always got upon the visitor's
republican nerves.

" Well, what is it ? " the journalist asked
sharply.

" It's this, sir." The footman drew from
his breast-pocket the copy of the Clarion. " A74

A POINT OF VIEW

friend over the water chanced to see this, sir,
and he thought it would be of interest to me.
So he sent it."

" Well ? "

"You wrote it, sir, I fancy."

" What if I did."

"And this 'ere footman is your idea of
me."

The American glanced at the passage and
approved his own phrases.

" Yes, that's you," he admitted.

The footman folded up his document once
more and replaced it in his pocket.

" I'd like to 'ave a word or two with you over
that, sir," he said in the same suave imper-
turbable voice. " I don't think, sir, that you
quite see the thing from our point of view. I'd
like to put it to you as I see it myself. Maybe
it would strike you different then."

The American became interested. There was
" copy " in the air.

" Sit down," said he.

" No, sir, begging your pardon, sir, I'd very"
much rather stand."

" Well, do as you please. If you've got any-
thing to say, get ahead with it."

" You see, sir, it's like this : There's a tradi-
tion—what you might call a standard—among
the best servants, and it's 'anded down from
one to the othe?. When I joined I was a third,A POINT OF VIEW	75

and my chief and the butler were both old men
who had been trained by the best. I took after
them just as they took after those that went
before them. It goes back away further than
you can tell."

" I can understand that."

" But what perhaps you don't so well under-
stand, sir, is the spirit that's lying behind it.
There's a man's own private self-respect to
which you allude, sir, in this 'ere article. That's
his own. But he can't keep it, so far as I can
see, unless he returns good service for the good
money that Ee takes."

" Well, he can do that without—without—
crawling."	x

The footman's florid face paled a little at
the word. Apparently he was not quite the
automatic machine that he appeared.

" By your leave, sir, we'll come to that later,"
said he. " But I want you to understand what
we are trying to do even when you don't ap-
prove of our way of doing it. We are trying
to make life smooth and easy for our master
and for our master's guests. We do it in the
way that's been 'anded down to us as the best
way. If our master could suggest any better
way, then it would be our place either to leave
his service if we disapproved it, or else to try
and do it as he wanted. It would hurt the
self-respect, of any good servant to take a man's76	A POINT OF VIEW

money and not give him the very best lie ean
in return for it."

" Well," said tlie American, " it's not quite
as we see it in America."

"That's right, sir. I was over there last
year with Sir Henry—in New York, sir, and I
saw something of the men-servants and their
ways. They were paid for service, sir, and
they did not give what they were paid for.
You,-talk about self-respect, sir, in this article.
Well now, my self-respect wouldn't let me
treat a master as I've seen them do over there."

"We don't even like the word ' master,'"
said the American.

" Well, that's neither 'ere nor there, sir, if
I may be so bold as to say so. If you're serving
a gentleman he's your master for the time
being and any name you may choose to call
it by don't make no difference. But you can't
eat your cake and 'ave it, sir. You can't sell
your independence and 'ave it, too."

" Maybe not," said the American. " All the
same, the fact remains that your manhood is
the worse for it."

" There I don't 'old with you, sir."

" If it were not, you wouldn't be standing
there arguing so quietly. You'd speak to me
in another tone, I guess."

" You must remember, sir, that you are my
master's guest, and that I am paid to wait uponA POINT OF VIEW	77

you and make your visit a pleasant one. So
long as you are 'ere, sir, that is 'ow I regard it.
Now in London-" ,

" Well, what about London ? "

"Well, in London if you would have the
goodness to let me have a word with you I
could make you understand a little clearer
what I am trying to explain to you. 'Arding
is my name, sir. If you get a call from 'Enery
'Arding, you'll know that I 'ave a word to say
to you."

So it happened about three days later that
our American journalist in his London hotel
received a letter that a Mr. Henry Harding
desired to speak with him. The man was
waiting in the hall dressed in quiet tweeds.
He had cast his manner with his uniform and
was firmly deliberate in all he said and did.
The professional silkiness was gone, and his
bearing was all that the most democratic could
desire.

" It's courteous of you to see me, sir," said
he. "There's that matter of the article still
open between us, and I would like to have a
word or two more about it."

" Well, I can give you just ten mmutes," said
the American journalist.

" I understand that you are a busy man, sir,
so I'll cut it as short as I can. There's a public78	A POINT OF VIEW

garden opposite if you would be so good as
talk it over in the open air."

The Pressman took his hat and accompanied
the footman. They walked together down the
winding gravelled path among the rho-
dodendron bushes.

" It's like this, sir," said the footman, halting
when they had arrived at a quiet nook. " I
was hoping that you would see it in our light
and understand me when I told you that the
servant who was trying to give honest service
for his master's money, and the man who is
free born and as good as his neighbour are two
separate folk. There's the duty man and there's
the natural man, and they are different men.
To say that I have no life of my own, or self-
respect of my own, because there are days when
I give myself to the service of another, is not
fair treatment. I was hoping, sir, that when
I made this clear to you, you would have met
me like a man and taken it back."

" Well, you have not convinced me," said
the American. " A man's a man, and he's
responsible for all his actions."

" Then you won't take back what you said
of me—the degradation and the rest ? "

" No, I don't see why I should."

The man's comely face darkened.

"You will take it back," said he. "I'll
smash your blasted head if you don't."A POINT OF VIEW

79

The American was suddenly aware that lie
was in the presence of a very ugly proposition.
The man was large, strong, and evidently most
earnest and determined. His brows were knotted,
his eyes flashing, and his fists clenched. On
neutral ground he struck the journalist as
really being a very different person to the
obsequious and silken footman of Trustall Old
Manor. The American had all the courage,
both of his race and of his profession, but he
realised suddenly that he was very much in
the wrong. He was man enough to say so.

" Well, sir, this once," said the footman, as
they shook hands. " I don't approve of the
mixin' of classes—none of the best servants
do. But I'm on my own to-day, so well let it
pass. But I wish you'd set it right with your
people, sir. I wish you would make them under-
stand that an English servant can give good and
proper service and yet that he's a human bein'
after all."IV

THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

There are few social historians of those days
who have not told of the long and fierce struggle
between those two famous bucks, Sir Charles
Tregellis and Lord Barrymore, for the Lord-
ship of the Kingdom of St. James, a struggle
which divided the whole of fashionable London
into two opposing camps. It has been chronicled
also how the peer retired suddenly and the
commoner resumed his great career without a
rival. Only here, however, one can read the
real and remarkable reason for this sudden
eclipse of a star.

It was one morning in the days of this famous
struggle that Sir Charles Tregellis was perform-
ing his very complicated toilet, and Ambrose,
his valet, was helping him to attain that pitch
of perfection which had long gained him the
reputation of being the best-dressed man in
town. Suddenly Sir Charles paused, his coup
d'archet half-executed, the final beauty of his
neck-cloth half-achieved, while he listened with

80THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE 81

surprise and indignation upon his large, comely,
fresh-complexioned face. Below, the decorous
hum of Jermyn Street had been broken by the
sharp, staccato, metallic beating of a door-
knocker.

" I begin to think that this uproar must be
at our door/' said Sir Charles, as one who thinks
aloud. " For five minutes it has come and
gone; yet Perkins has his orders."

At a gesture from his master Ambrose stepped
out upon the balcony and craned his discreet
head over it. From the street below came a
voice, drawling but clear.

" You would oblige me vastly, fellow, if you
would do me the favour to open this door,"
said the voice.

" Who is it ? What is it ? " asked the
scandalised Sir Charles, with his arrested elbow
still pointing upwards.

Ambrose had returned with as much surprise
upon his dark face as the etiquette of his position
would allow him to show.

" It is a young gentleman, Sir Charles."

" A young gentleman ? There is no one in
London who is not aware that I do not show
before midday. * Do you know the person ?
Have you seen him before ?"

" I have not seen him, sir, but he is very like
some one I could name."

" Like some one ? Like whom ? "82 THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

"With all respect, Sir Charles, I could for
a moment have believed that it was yourself
when I looked down. A smaller man, sir, and
a youth; but the voice, the face, the bear-
ing--"

" It must be that young cub Vereker, my
brother's ne'er-do-weel," muttered Sir Charley
continuing his toilet. " I have heard that
there are points in which he resembles me.
He wrote from Oxford that he would come,
and I answered that I would not see him. Yet
he ventures to insist. The fellow needs a
lesson ! Ambrose, ring for Perkins."

A large footman entered with an outraged
expression upon his face.

" I cannot have this uproar at the door,
Perkins! "

" If you please, the young gentleman won't
go away, sir."

" Won't go away ? It is your duty to see
that he goes away. Have you not your orders ?
Didn't you tell him that I am not seen before
midday ? "

" I said so, sir. He would have pushed his
way in, for all I could say, so I slammed the
door in his face."

" Very right, Perkins."

" But now, sir, he is making such a din that
all the folk are at the windows. There is a
crowd gathering in the street, sir."THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE 83

From below came the crack-crack-crack of
the knocker, ever rising in insistence, with, a
chorus of laughter and encouraging comments
from the spectators. Sir Charles flushed with
anger. There must be some limit to such im-
pertinence.

" My clouded amber cane is in the corner,"
said he. " Take it with you, Perkins. I give
you a free hand. A stripe or two may bring
the young rascal to reason."

The large Perkins smiled and departed. The
door was heard to open below and the knocker
was at rest. A few moments later there fol-
lowed a prolonged howl and a noise as of a
beaten carpet. Sir Charles listened with a
smile which gradually faded from his good-
humoured face.

" The fellow must not overdo it," he muttered.
" I would not do the lad an injury, whatever
his deserts may be. Ambrose, run out on the
balcony and call him off. This has gone far
enough."

But before the valet could move there came
the swift patter of agile feet upon the stairs,
and a handsome youth, dressed in the height
of fashion, was standing framed in the open
doorway. The pose, the face, above all the
curious, mischievous, dancing light in the large
blue eyes, all spoke of the famous Tregellis
blood. Even such was Sir Charles when, twenty84 THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

years before, he had, by virtue of his spirit
and audacity, in one short season taken a place
in London from which Brummell himself had
afterwards vainly struggled to depose him.
The youth faced the angry features of his uncle
with an air of debonair amusement, and he held
towards him, upon his outstretched palms, the
broken fragments of an amber cane.

" I much fear, sir/' said he, " that in correct-
ing your fellow I have had the misfortune to
injure what can only have been your property.
I am vastly concerned that it should have,
occurred."

Sir Charles stared with intolerant eyes at
thik impertinent apparition. The other looked
back in a laughable parody of his senior's
manner. As Ambrose had remarked after his
inspection from the balcony, the two were
very alike, save that the younger was smaller,
finer cut, and the more nervously alive of the two.

" You are my nephew, Vereker Tregellis ? "
asked Sir Charles.

" Yours to command, sir."

" I hear bad reports of you from Oxford."

" Yes, sir, I understand that the reports are
bad."

" Nothing could be worse."

" So I have been told."

" Why are you here, sir ? "

" That I might see my famous uncle."THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE 85

" So you made a tumult in his street, forced
Ms door, and beat his footman ? "

" Yes, sir."

"You had my letter ? "

" Yes, sir."

" You were told that I was not receiving ? "

" Yes, sir."

" I can remember no such exhibition of im-
pertinence."

The young man smiled and rubbed his hands
in satisfaction.

" There is an impertinence which is redeemed
by wit," said Sir Charles, severely. " There
is another which is the mere boorishness of the
clodhopper. As you grow older and wiser you
may discern the difference."

" You are very right, sir," said the young
man, warmly. "The finer shades of imperti-
nence are infinitely subtle, and only experience
and tlie society of one who is a recognised master"
—here he bowed to his uncle—" can enable one
to excel."

Sir Charles was notoriously touchy in temper
for the first hour after his morning chocolate.
He allowed himself to show it.

" I cannot congratulate my brother upon
his son," said he. " I had hoped for something
more worthy of our traditions."

" Perhaps, sir, upon a longer acquaint-
ance-"86 THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

" Tlie chance is too small to justify tlie very
irksome experience. I must ask you, sir, to
bring to a close a visit which never should have
been made."

The young man smiled affably, but gave no
sign of departure.

" May I ask, sir," said he, in an easy con-
versational fashion, " whether you can recall
Principal Munro, of my college ? "

"No, sir, I cannot," his uncle answered,
sharply.

" Naturally you would not burden your
memory to such an extent, but he still remembers
you. In some conversation with him yesterday
he did me the honour to say that I brought you
back to his recollection by what he was pleased
to call the mingled levity and obstinacy of my
character. The levity seems to have already
impressed you. I am now reduced to showing
you the obstinacy." He sat down in a chair
near the door and folded his arms, still beaming
pleasantly at his uncle.

" Oh, you won't go ? " asked Sir Charles,
grimly.

" No, sir; I will stay."

"Ambrose, step down and call a couple of
chairmen."

" I should not advise it, sir. They will be
hurt."

" I will put you out with my own hands."THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE 87

" That, sir, you can always do. As my
uncle, I could scarce resist you. But, short
of throwing me down the stair, I do not see
how you can avoid giving me half an hour of
your attention."

Sir Charles smiled. He could not help it.
There was so much that was reminiscent of
his own arrogant and eventful youth in the
bearing of this youngster. He was mollified,
too, by the defiance of menials and quick sub-
mission to himself. He turned to the glass
and signed to Ambrose to continue his duties.

" I must ask you to await the conclusion of
my toilet," said he. " Then we shall see how
far you can justify such an intrusion."

When the valet had at last left the room
Sir Charles turned his attention once more
to his scapegrace jiephew, who had viewed
the details of the famous buck's toilet with
the face of an acolyte assisting at a mystery.

" Now, sir," said the older man, " speak, and
speak to the point, for I can assure you that
I have many more important matters which
claim my attention. The Prince is waiting
for me at the present instant at Carlton House.
Be as brief as you can. What is it that you
want ? "

"A thousand pounds."

" Really! Nothing more ? " Sir Charles had
turned acid again.

788 THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

"Yes, sir; an introduction to Mr. Brinsley
Sheridan, whom I know to be your friend."

" And why to him ? "

" Because I am told that he Controls Drury
Lane Theatre, and I have a fancy to be an
actor. My friends assure me that I have a
pretty talent that way."

" I can see you clearly, sir, in Charles Surface,
or any other part where a foppish insolence is
the essential. The less you acted, the better
you would be. But it is absurd to suppose
that I could help you to such a career. I could
not justify it to your father. Return to Oxford
at once, and continue your studies."

" Impossible! "

" And pray, sir, what is the impediment ? "

" I think I may have mentioned to you that
1 had an interview yesterday with the Principal.
He ended it by remarking that the authori-
ties of the University could tolerate me no
more."

" Sent down ? "

" Yes, sir."

"And this is the fruit, no doubt, of a long
series of rascalities."

" Something of the sort, sir, I admit."

In spite of himself, Sir Charles began once
more to relax in his severity towards this hand-
some young scapegrace. His absolute frank-
ness disarmed criticism. It was in a moreTHE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE 89

gracious voice that the older man continued
the conversation.

" Why do you want this large sum of money ? "
he asked.

" To pay my college debts before I go, sir."

" Your father is not a rich man."

" No, sir. I could not apply to him for that
reason."

" So y.ou come to me, who am a stranger! "

"No, sir, no! You are ?my uncle, and, if
I may say so, my ideal and my model."

" You flatter me, my good Vereker. But
if you think you can flatter me out of a thou-
sand pounds, you mistake your man. I will
give you no money."

" Of coifrse, sir, if you can't-"

" I did not say I can't. I say I won't."

" If you can, sir, I think you will."

Sir Charles smiled, and flicked his sleeve
with his lace handkerchief.

" I find you vastly entertaining," said he.
" Pray continue your conversation. Why do
you think that I will give you so large a sum of
money ? "

" The reason that I think so," continued the
younger man, " is that I can do you a
service which will seem to you worth a thousand
pounds."

Sir Charles raised his eyebrows in surprise.

" Is this blackmail ? " he inquired.90 THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

Yereker Tregellis flushed.

" Sir," said lie, with a pleasing sternness,
" you surprise me. You should know the
blood of which I come too well to suppose that
1 would attempt such a thing."

" I am relieved to hear that there are limits
to what you consider to be justifiable. I must
confess that I had seen none in your conduct
up to now. But you say that you can do me
a service which will be worth a thousand pounds
to me ? "

" Yes, sir."

" And pray, sir, what may this service be ? "

" To make Lord Barrymore the laughing-
stock of the town."

Sir Charles, in spite of himself, lost for an
instant the absolute serenity of Ms self-control.
He started, and his face expressed his surprise.
By what devilish instinct did this raw under-
graduate find the one chink in his armour ?
Deep in his heart, unacknowledged to any one,
there was the will to pay many a thousand
pounds to the man who would bring ridicule
upon this his most dangerous rival, who was
challenging his supremacy in fashionable London.

" Did you come from Oxford with this precious
project ? " he asked, after a pause.

"No, sir. I chanced to see the man himself
last night, and I conceived an ill-will to him,
and would do him a mischief."THE FALL OP LORD BARRYMORE 91

" Where did you see him ? "

" I spent the evening, sir, at the Vauxhall
Gardens."

"No doubt you would," interpolated his
uncle.

"My Lord Barrymore was there. He was
attended by one who was dressed as a clergy-
man, but who was, as I am told, none other
than Hooper the Tinman, who acts as his
bully and thrashes all who may offend him.
Together they passed down the central path,
insulting the women and browbeating the men.
They actually hustled me. I was offended,
sir—so much so that I nearly took the matter
in hand then and there."

" It is as well that you did not. The prize-
fighter would have beaten you."

" Perhaps so, sir—and also, perhaps not."

" Ah, you add pugilism to your elegant accom-
plishments ? "

The young man laughed pleasantly.

"William Ball is the only professor of my
Alma Mater who has ever had occasion to
compliment me, sir. He is better known as
the Oxford Pet. I think, with all modesty,
that I could hold him for a dozen rounds.
But last night I suffered the annoyance with-
out protest, for since it is said that the same
scene is enacted every evening, there is always
time to act."92 THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

" And how would you act, may I ask % "
" That, sir, I should prefer to keep to my-
self ; but my aim, as I say, would be to make
Lord Barrymore a laughing-stock to all London."
Sir Charles cogitated for a moment.

" Pray, sir," said he, " why did you imagine
that any humiliation to Lord Barrymore would
be pleasing to me? "

" Even in the provinces we know something
of what passes in polite circles. Your anta-
gonism to this man is to be found in every
column of fashionable gossip. The town is
divided between you. It is impossible that
any public slight upon him should be unpleasing
to you."

Sir Charles smiled.

" You are a shrewd reasoner," said he. " We
will suppose for the instant that you are right.
Can you give me no hint what means you would
adopt to attain this very desirable end ? "

" I would merely make the remark, sir, that
many women have been wronged by this fellow.
That is a matter of common knowledge. If one
of these damsels were to upbraid him in public
in such a fashion that the sympathy of the by-
standers should be with her, then I can imagine,
if she were sufficiently persistent, that his lord-
ship's position might become an unenviable
one."

" And you know such a woman ? "THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE 93

" I think, sir, that J do."

" Well, my good Vereker, if any such attempt
is in your mind, I see no reason why I should
stand between Lord Barrymore and the angry
fair. As to whether the result is worth a thou-
sand pounds, I can make no promise."

" You shall yourself be the judge, sir."

" I will be an exacting judge, nephew.5*

"Very good, sir; I should not desire other-
wise. If things go as I hope, his lordship will
not show, face in St. James's Street for a year
to come. I will now, if I may, give you your
instructions."

" My instructions! What do you mean ?
I have nothing to do with the matter."

" You are the judge, sir, and therefore must
be present."

" I can play no part."

"No, sir. I would not ask you to do more
than be a witness."

" What, then, are my instructions, as you
are pleased to call them ? "

"You will come to the Gardens to-xiight,
uncle, at nine o'clock precisely. You will
walk down the centre path, and you will seat
yourself upon one of the rustic seats which
are beside the statue of Aphrodite. You will
wait and you will observe."

" Very good; I will do so. I begin to per-
ceive, nephew, that the breed of Tregellis has94 TIJE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

/

not yet lost some of the points which have made
it famous."

It was at the stroke of nine that night when
Sir Charles, throwing his reins to the groom,
descended from his high yellow phaeton, which
forthwith turned to take its place in the long
line of fashionable carriages waiting for their
owners. As he entered the gate of the Gardens,
the centre at that time of the dissipation and
revelry of London, he turned up the collar of
his driving-cape and drew his hat over his eyes,
for he had no desire to be personally associated
with what might well prove to be a public
scandal. In spite of his attempted disguise,
however, there was that in his walk and his
carriage which caused many an oye to be turned
after him as he passed and many a hand to be
raised in salute. Sir Charles walked on, and,
seating himself upon the rustic bench in front
of the famous statue, which was in the very
middle of the Gardens, he waited in amused
suspense to see the next act in this comedy.

From the pavilion, whence the paths radiated,
there came the strains of the band of the Foot
Guards, and by the many-coloured lamps twink-
ling from every tree Sir Charles could see the
confused whirl of the dancers. Suddenly the
music stopped. The quadrilles were at an end.

An instant afterwards the central path byTHE FALL OP LORD BARRYMORE 95

which, he sat was thronged by the revellers.
In a many-coloured crowd, stocked and cravated
with all the bravery of buff and plum-colour
and blue, the bucks of the town passed and
repassed with their high-waisted, straight-skirted,
be-bonneted ladies upon their arms.

It was not a decorous assembly. Many of
the men, flushed and noisy, had come straight
from their potations. The women, too, were
loud and aggressive. Now and then, with a
rush and a swirl, amid a chorus of screams from
the girls and good-humoured laughter from
their escorts, some band of high-blooded, noisy
youths would break their way across the moving
throng. It was no place for the prim or demure,
and there was a spirit of good-nature and merri-
ment among the crowd which condoned the
wildest liberty.

And yet there were some limits to what
could be tolerated even by so Bohemian an
assembly. A murmur of anger followed in the
wake of two roisterers who were making their
way down the path. It would, perhaps, be
fairer to say one roisterer; for of the two it
was only the first who carried himself with
such insolence, although it was the second who
ensured that he could do it with impunity.

The leader was a very tall, hatchet-faced
man, dressed in the very height of fashion,
whose evil, handsome features were flushed96 THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

with wine and arrogance. He shouldered his
way roughly through the crowd, peering with
an abominable smile into the faces of the women,
and occasionally, where the weakness of the
escort invited an insult, stretching out his hand
and caressing the cheek or neck of some passing
girl, laughing loudly as she winced away from
his touch.

Close at his heels walked his hired attendant,
whom, out of insolent caprice and with a desire
to show his contempt for tKe prejudices of
others, he had dresseck as a rough country
clergyman. This fellow slouched along with
frowning brows and surly, challenging eyes,
like some faithful, hideous human bulldog, his
knotted hands protruding from his rusty cassock,
his great underhung jaw turning slowly from
right to left as he menaced the crowd with his
sinister gaze. Already a close observer might
have marked upon his face a heaviness and
looseness of feature, the first signs of that
physical decay which in a very few years was
to stretch him, a helpless wreck, too weak to
utter his own name, upon the causeway of the
London streets. At present, however, he was
still an unbeaten man, the terror of the Ring,
and as his ill-omened face was seen behind his
infamous master many a half-raised cane was
lowered and many a hot word was checked,
while the whisper of " Hooper! 'Ware BullyTHE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE 97

Hooper! " warned all who were aggrieved that
it might be best to pocket their injuries lest
some even worse thing should befall them.
Many a maimed and disfigured man had carried
away from Vauxhall the handiwork of the
Tinman and his patron.

Moving in insolent slowness through the
crowd, the bully and his master had just come
opposite to the bench upon which sat Sir Charles
Tregellis. At this place the path opened up
into a circular space, brilliantly illuminated and
surrounded by rustic seats. From one of these
an elderly, ringleted woman,, deeply veiled,
rose suddenly and barred the path of the'swagger-
ing nobleman. Her voice sounded clear and
strident above the babel of tongues, which
hushed suddenly that their owners might hear it.

" Marry her, my lord! I entreat you to
marry her ! Oh, surely you will marry my poor
Amelia ! " said the voice.

Lord Barrymore stood aghast. From all
sides folk were closing in and heads were peering
over shoulders. He tried to push on, but the
lady barred his way and two palms pressed upon
his beruffled front.

" Surely, surely you would not desert her!
Take the advice of that good, kind clergyman
behind you! " wailed the voice. " Oh, be a
man of honour and marry her! "

The elderly lady thrust out her hand and98 THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

drew forward a lumpish-looking young woman,
who sobbed and mopped her eyes with her
handkerchief.

" The plague take you! " roared his lord-
ship, in a fury. " Who is the wench ? I vow
that I never clapped eyes on either of you in my
life! "

" It is my niece Amelia," cried the lady,
" your own loving Amelia! Oh, my lord, can
you pretend that you have forgotten poor,
trusting Amelia, of Woodbine Cottage at Lich-
field ? "

" I never set foot in Lichfield in my life! "
cried the peer. " You are two impostors who
should be whipped at the cart's tail."

" Oh, wicked! Oh, Amelia! " screamed the
lady, in a voice that resounded through the
Gardens. " Oh, my darling, try to soften his
hard heart; pray him that he make an honest
woman of you at last."

With a lurch the stout young woman fell
forward and embraced Lord Barrymore with
the hug of a bear. He would have raised his
cane, but his arms were pinned to his sides.

" Hooper ! Hooper! " screamed the furious
peer, craning his neck in horror, for the girl
seemed to be trying to kiss him.

But the bruiser, as he ran forward, found
himself entangled with the old lady.

" Out o' the way, marm!'" he cried. " OutTHE FALL OP LORD BARRYMORE 99

o' the way, I say! " and pushed her violently
aside.

" Oh, you rude, rude man! " she shrieked,
springing back in front of him. " He hustled
me, good people; you saw him hustle me!
A clergyman, but no gentleman! What! you
would treat a lady so—you would do it again ?
Oh, I could slap, slap, slap you! "

And with each repetition of the word, with
extraordinary swiftness, her open palm rang
upon the prizefighter's cheek.

The crowd buzzedwith amazement and delight.

" Hooper! Hooper! " cried Lord Barrymore
onee more, for he was still struggling in the
ever-closer embrace of the unwieldy and amorous
Amelia.

The bully again pushed forward to the aid
of his patron, but again the elderly lady con-
fronted him, her head back, her left arm ex-
tended, her whole attitude, to his amazement,
that of an expert boxer.

The prizefighter's brutal nature was roused.
Woman or no woman, he would show the
murmuring crowd what it meant to cross the
path of the Tinman. She had struck him.
She must take the consequence. No one should
square up to him with impunity. He swung
his right with a curse. The bonnet instantly
ducked under his arm, and a line of razor-like
knuckles left an open cut under his eye.100 THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE

Amid- wild cries of delight and encourage-
ment from the dense circle of spectators, the
lady danced round the sham clergyman, dodging
his ponderous blows, slipping under his arms,
and smacking back at him most successfully.
Once she tripped and fell over her own skirt,
but was up and at him again in an instant.

" You vulgar fellow ! " she shrieked. " Would
you strike a helpless woman! Take that! Oh,
you rude and ill-bred man! "

Bully Hooper was cowed for the first time in
his life by the extraordinary thing that he was
fighting. The creature was as elusive as a
shadow, and yet the blood was dripping down
his chin from the effects of the blows. He shrank
back with an amazed face from so uncanny an
antagonist. And in the moment that he did
so his spell was for ever broken. Only success
could hold it. A check was fatal. In all the
crowd there was scarce one who was not nursing
some grievance against master or man, and
waiting for that moment of weakness in which
to revenge it.

With a growl of rage the circle closed in.
There was an eddy of furious, struggling men,
with Lord Barrymore's thin, flushed face and
Hooper's bulldog jowl in the centre of it. A
moment after they were both upon the ground,
and a dpzen sticks were rising and falling above
them.THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE 101

"Let me up! You're killing me! For God's
sake let me up ! " cried a crackling voice.

Hooper fought mute, like the bulldog he was,
till his senses were beaten out of him.

Bruised, kicked, and mauled, never did their
worst victim come so badly from the Gardens
as the bully and his patron that night. But
worse than the ache of wounds for Lord Barry-
more was the smart of the mind as he thought
how every club and drawing-room in London
would laugh for a week to come at the tale of
his Amelia and her aunt.

Sir Charles had stood, rocking with laughter,
upon the bench which overlooked the scene.
When at last he made his way back through
the crowds to his yellow phaeton, he was not
entirely surprised to find that the back seat
was already occupied by two giggling females,
who were exchanging most unladylike repartees
with the attendant grooms.

"You young rascals I" he remarked, over
his shoulder, as he gathered up his reins.

The two females tittered loudly.

" Uncle Charles ! " cried the elder, " may I
present Mr. Jack Jarvis, of Brasenose College ? I
think, uncle,youshould take us somewhere to sup,
for it has been a vastly fatiguing performance.
To-morrow I will do myself the honour to call,
at your convenience, and will venture to bring
with me the receipt for one thousand pounds."V

THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS
(which includes the manuscript known as

the joyce-armstrong fragment)

The idea that the extraordinary narrative
which has been called the Joyce-Armstrong
Fragment is an elaborate practical joke evolved
by some unknown person, eursed by a perverted
and sinister sense of humour, has now been
abandoned by - all who have examined the
matter. The most macabre and imaginative of
plotters would hesitate before linking his morbid
fancies with the unquestioned and tragic facts
which reinforce the statement. Though the
assertions contained in it are amazing and even
monstrous, it is none the less forcing itself
upon the general intelligence that they are true,
and that we must readjust our ideas to the new
situation. This world of ours appears to be
separated by a slight and precarious margin
of safety from a most singular and unexpected
danger. I will endeavour in this narrative,
which reproduces the original document in its

102THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 103

necessarily somewhat fragmentary form, to
lay before the reader the whole of the facts up
to date, prefacing my statement by saying
that, if there be any who doubt the narrative
of Joyce-Armstrong, there can be no question
at all as to the facts concerning Lieutenant
Myrtle, B.N., and Mr. Hay Connor, who un-
doubtedly met their end in the manner described.

The Joyce-Armstrong Fragment was found
in the field which is called Lower Haycock,
lying one mile to the westward of the village
of Withyham, upon the Kent and Sussex border.
It was on the fifteenth of September last that
an agricultural labourer, James Flynn, in the
employment of Mathew Dodd, farmer, of the
Chauntry Farm, Withyham, perceived a briar pipe
lying near the footpath which skirts the hedge in
Lower Haycock. A few paces farther on he
picked up a pair of broken binocular glasses.
Finally, among some nettles in the ditch, he
caught sight of a flat, canvas-backed book,
which proved to be a note-book with detachable
leaves, some of which had come loose and were
fluttering along the base of the hedge. These
he collected, but some, including the first, were
never recovered, and leave a deplorable hiatus
in this all-important statement. The note-
book was taken by the labourer to his master,
who in turn showed it to Dr. J. H. Atherton,
of Hartfield. This gentleman at once recog-
8104 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

nised the need for an expert examination, and
the manuscript was forwarded to the Aero
Club in London, where it now lies.

The first two pages of the manuscript are
missing. There is also one torn away at the
end of the narrative, though none of these
affect the general coherence of the story. It
is conjectured that the missing opening is
concerned with the record of Mr. Joyce-Arm-
Strong's qualifications as an aeronaut, which
can be gathered from other sources and are
admitted to be unsurpassed among the air-
pilots of England. For many years he has
been looked upon as among the most daring
and the most intellectual of flying men, a com-
bination which has enabled him to both invent
and test several new devices, including the
common gyroscopic attachment which is known
by his name. The main body of the manuscript
is written neatly in ink, but the last few lines
are in pencil and are so ragged as to be hardly
legible—exactly, in fact, as they might be ex-
pected to appear if they were scribbled off
hurriedly from the seat of a moving aeroplane.
There are, it may be added, several stains,
both on the last page and on the outside cover,
which have been pronounced by the Home
Office experts to be blood—probably human
and certainly mammalian. The fact that some-
thing closely resembling the organism of malariaTHE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 105

was discovered in this blood, and that Joyce-
Armstrong is known to have suffered from inter-
mittent fever, is a remarkable example of the
new weapons which modern science has placed
in the hands of our detectives.

And now a word as to the personality of
the author of this epoch-making statement.
Joyce-Armstrong, according to the few friends
jtfho really knew something of the man, was a
poet and a dreamer, as well as a mechanic and
an inventor. He was a man of considerable
wealth, much of which he had spent in the
pursuit of his aeronautical hobby. He had
four private aeroplanes in his hangars near
Devizes, and is said to have made no fewer
than one hundred and seventy ascents in the
course of last year. He was a retiring man
with dark moods, in which he would avoid the
society of his fellows. Captain Dangerfield,
who knew him better than any one, says that
there were times when his eccentricity threatened
to develop into something more serious. His
habit, of carrying a shot-gun with him in his
aeroplane was one manifestation of it.

Another was the morbid effect which the
fall of Lieutenant Myrtle had upon his mind.
Myrtle, who was attempting the height record,
fell from an altitude of something over thirty
thousand feet. Horrible to narrate, his head
was entirely obliterated, though his body and106 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

limbs preserved their configuration. At every
gathering of airmen, Joyce-Armstrong, accord-
ing to Dangerfield, would ask, with an enigmatic
smile : " And where, pray, is Myrtle's head 1 "

On another occasion after dinner, at the
mess of the Flying School on Salisbury Plain,
he started a debate as to what will be the most
permanent danger which airmen will have to
encounter. Having listened to successive
opinions as to air-pockets, faulty construction,
and over-banking, he ended by shrugging his
shoulders and refusing to put forward his own
views, though he gave the impression that they
differed from any advanced by his companions.

It is worth remarking that after his own
complete disappearance it was found that his
private affairs were arranged with a precision
which may show that he had a strong pre-
monition of disaster. With these essential ex-
planations I will now give the narrative exactly
as it stands, beginning at page three of the
blood-soaked note-book:—

" Nevertheless, when I dined at Rheims with
Coselli and Gustav Raymond I found that
neither of them was aware of any particular
danger in the higher layers of the atmosphere.
1 did not actually say what was in my thoughts,
but I got so near to it that if they had any
corresponding idea they could not have failed
to express it. But then they are two empty,THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 107

vainglorious fellows with no thought beyond
seeing their silly names in the newspaper. It
is interesting to note that neither of them had
ever been much beyond the twenty-thousand-foot
level. Of course, men have been higher than
this both in balloons and in the ascent of moun-
tains. It must be well above that point that
the aeroplane enters the danger zone—always
presuming that my premonitions are correct.

" Aeroplaning has been with us now for more
than twenty years, and one might well ask:
Why should this peril be only revealing itself
in our day ? The answer is obvious. In the
old days of weak engines, when a hundred
horse-power Gnome or Green was considered
ample for every need, the flights were very
restricted. Now that three hundred horse-power
is the rule rather than the exception, visits to
the upper layers have become easier and more
common. Some of us can remember how, in
our youth, Garros made a world-wide reputation
by attaining nineteen thousand feet, and it was
considered a remarkable achievement to fly over
the Alps. Our standard now has been im-
measurably raised, and there are twenty high
flights for one in former years. Many of them
have been undertaken with impunity. The
thirty-thousand-foot level has been reached time
after time with no discomfort beyond cold and
asthma. What does this prove ? A visitor
might descend upon this planet a thousand times
and never see a tiger. Yet tigers exist, and
if he chanced to come down into a jungle he
might be devoured. There are jungles of the108 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

upper air, and there are worse things than
tigers which inhabit them. I believe in time
they will map these jungles accurately out.
Even at the present moment I could name two
of them. One of them lies over the Pau-
Biarritz district of France. Another is just
over my head as I write here in my house in
Wiltshire. I rather think there is a third in
the Homburg-Wiesbaden district.

" It was the disappearance of the airmen
that first set me thinking. Of course, every
one said that they had fallen into the sea, but
that did not satisfy me at all. First, there
was Verrier in France ; his machine was found
near Bayonne, but they never got his body.
There was the case of Baxter also, who vanished,
though his engine and some of the iron fixings
were found in a wood in Leicestershire. In that
case, Dr. Middleton, of Amesbury, who was
watching the flight with a telescope, declares
that just before the clouds obscured the view
he saw the machine, which was at an enormous
height, suddenly rise perpendicularly upwards
in a succession of jerks in a manner that he
would have thought to be impossible. That
was the last seen of Baxter. There was a
correspondence in the papers, but it never led
to anything. There were several other similar
cases, and then there was the death of Hay
Connor. What a cackle there was about an
unsolved mystery of the air, and what columns
in the halfpenny papers, and yet how little was
ever done to get to the bottom of the business !
He came down in a tremendous vol-plane fromTHE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 109

an unknown height. He never got ofi his
machine and died in his pilot's seat. Died of
what ? ' Heart disease,' said the doctors.
Rubbish! Hay Connor's heart was as soxxnd
as mine is. What did Venables say ? Venables
was the only man who was at his side when he
died. He said that he was shivering and looked
like a man who had been badly scared. ' Died
of fright,' said Venables, but could not imagine
what he was frightened about. Only said one
word to Venables, which sounded like ' Mon-
strous.' They could make nothing of that at
the inquest. But I could make something of
it. Monsters! That was the last word of
poor Harry Hay Connor. And he did die of
fright, just as Venables thought.

" And then there' was Myrtle's head. Do
you really believe—does anybody really believe
—that a man's head could be driven clean into
his body by the force of a fall % W ell, perhaps
it may be possible, but I, for one, have never
believed that it was so with Myrtle. And the
grease upon his clothes—' all slimy with grease,'
said somebody at the inquest. Queer that no-
body got thinking after that! I did—but,
then, I had been thinking for a good long time.
I've made three ascents—how Dangerfield used
to chaff me about my shot-gun!—but I've
never been high enough. Now, with\this new
light Paul Veroner machine and its one hundred
and seventy-five Robur, I should easily touch
the thirty thousand to-morrow. I'll have a
shot at the record. Maybe I shall have a shot
at something else as well. Of course, it's110 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

dangerous. If a fellow wants to avoid danger
he had best keep out of flying altogether and
subside finally into flannel slippers and a dress-
ing-gown. But 111 visit the air-jungle to-
morrow—and if there's anything there I shall
know it. If I return, I'll find myself a bit of a
celebrity. If I don't, this note-book may explain
what I am trying to do, and how I lost my life
in doing it. But no drivel about accidents or
mysteries, if you please.

" I chose my Paul Veroner monoplane for
the job. There's nothing like a monoplane
when real work is to be done. Beaumont found
that out in very early days. For one thing,
it doesn't mind damp, and the weather looks
as if we should be in the clouds all the time.
It's a bonny little model and answers my hand
like a tender-mouthed horse. The engine is
a ten-cylinder rotary Robur working up to one
hundred and seventy-five. It has all the modern
improvements—enclosed fuselage, high-curved
landing skids, brakes, gyroscopic steadiers, and
three speeds, worked by an alteration of the
angle of the planes upon the Venetian-blind
principle. I took a shot-gun with me and a
dozen cartridges filled with buck-shot. You
should have seen the face of Perkins, my old
mechanic, when I directed him to put them in.
I was dressed like an Arctic explorer, with two
jerseys under my overalls, thick socks inside
my padded boots, a storm-cap with flaps, and
my talc goggles. It was stifling outside the
hangars, but I was going for the summit of
the Himalayas, and had to dress for the part.THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 111

Perkins knew there was something on and
implored me to take Mm with me. Perhaps I
should if I were using the biplane, but a mono-
plane is a one-man show—if you want to get
the last foot of lift out of it. Of course, I took
an oxygen bag; the man who goes for the altitude
record without one will either be frozen or
smothered—or both.

" I had a good look at the planes, the rudder-
bar, and the elevating lever before I got in.
Everything was in order so far as I could see.
Then I switched on my engine and found that
she was running sweetly. When they let her
go she rose almost at once upon the lowest
speed. I circled my home field once or twice
just to warm her up, and then, with a wave to
Perkins and the others, I flattened out my
planes and put her on her highest. She skimmed
like a swallow down wind for eight or ten miles
until I turned her nose up a little and she began
to climb in a great spiral for the cloud-bank
above me. It's all-important to rise slowly and
adapt yourself to the pressure as you go.

" It was a close, warm day for an English
September, and there was the hush and heavi-
ness of impending rain. Now and then there
came sudden puffs of wind from the south-west
—one of them so gusty and unexpected that it
caught me napping and turned me half-round for
an instant. I remember the time when gusts
and whirls and air-pockets used to be things of
danger—before we learned to put an over-
mastering power into our engines. Just as I
reached; the cloud-banks, with the altimeter112 THE HORROR OP THE HEIGHTS

marking three thousand, down came the rain.
My word, how it poured! It drummed upon
my wings and lashed against my face, blurring
my glasses so that I could hardly see. I got
down on to a low speed, for it was painful to
travel against it. As I got higher it became
hail, and I had to turn tail to it. One of my
cylinders was out of action—a dirty plug, I
should imagine, but still I was rising steadily
with plenty of power. After a bit the trouble
passed, whatever it was, and I heard the full,
deep-throated purr—the ten singing as one.
That's where the beauty of our modern silencers
comes in. We can at last control our engines
by ear. How they squeal and squeak and sob
when they are in trouble! All those cries for
help were wasted in the old days, when every
sound was swallowed up by the monstrous racket
of the machine. If only the early aviators could
come back to see the beauty and perfection of
the mechanism which have been bought at the
cost of their lives !

" About nine-thirty I was nearing the clouds.
Down below me, all blurred and shadowed with
rain, lay the vast expanse of Salisbury Plain.
Half-a-dozen flying machines were doing hack-
work at the thousand-foot level, looking like
little black swallows against the green back-
ground. I dare say they were wondering what
I was doing up in cloud-land. Suddenly a grey
curtain drew across beneath me and the wet
folds of vapour were swirling round my face.
It was clammily cold and miserable. But I was
above the hail-storm, and that was somethingTHE HORROR Of THE HEIGHTS 113

gained. The cloud was as dark and thick as a
London fog. In my anxiety to get clear, I
cocked her nose up until the automatic alarm-
bell rang, and I actually began to slide back-
wards. My sopped and dripping wings had
made me heavier than I thought, but presently
I was in lighter cloud, and soon had cleared
the first layer. There was a second—opal-
coloured and fleecy—at a great height above
my head, a white unbroken ceiling above, and
a dark unbroken floor below, with the mono-
plane labouring upwards upon a vast spiral
between them. It is deadly lonely in these
cloud-spaces. Once a great flight of some small
water-birds went past me, flying very fast to
the westwards. The quick whirr of their wings
and their musical cry were cheery to my ear.
I fancy that they were teal, but I am a wretched
zoologist. Now that we humans have become
birds we must really learn to know our brethren
by sight.

"The wind d6wn beneath me whirled and
swayed the broad cloud-plain. Once a great
eddy formed in it, a whirlpool of vapour, and
through it, as down a funnel, I caught sight of
the distant world. A large white biplane was
passing at a vast depth beneath me. I fancy
it was the morning mail service betwixt Bristol
and London. Then the drift swirled inwards
again and the great solitude was unbroken.

" Just after ten I touched the lower edge of
the upper cloud-stratum. It consisted of fine
diaphanous vapour drifting swiftly from the
^westward. The wind had been steadily rising114 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

all this time and it was now blowing a sharp
breeze—twenty-eight an hour by my gauge.
Already it was very cold, though my altimeter
only marked nine thousand. The engines were
working beautifully, and we went droning
steadily upwards. The cloud-bank was thicker
than I had expected, but at last it thinned out
into a golden mist before me, and then in an in-
stant I had shot out from it, and there was an
unclouded sky and a brilliant sun above my
head—all blue and gold above, all shining silver
below, one vast glimmering plain as far as my
eyes could reach. It was a quarter past ten
o'clock, and the barograph needle pointed to
twelve thousand eight hundred. Up I went and
up, my ears concentrated upon the deep purring
of my motor, my eyes busy always with the
watch, the revolution indicator, the petrol lever,
and the oil pump. No wonder aviators are said
to be a fearless race. With so many things to
think of there is no time to trouble about one-
self. About this time I noted how unreliable is
the compass when above a certain height from
earth. At fifteen thousand feet mine was point-
ing east and a point south. The sun and the wind
gave me my true bearings.

"I had hoped to reach an eternal stillness
in these high altitudes, but with every thousand
feet of ascent the gale grew stronger. My
machine groaned and trembled in every joint
and rivet as she faced it, and swept away like a
sheet of paper when I banked her on the turn,
skimming down wind at a greater pace, perhaps,
than ever mortal man has moved. Yet I hadTHE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 115

always to turn again and tack up in the wind's
eye, for it was not merely a height record that I
was after. By all my calculations it was above
little Wiltshire that my air-jtmgle lay, and all
my labour might be lost if I struck the outer
layers at some farther point.

" When I "reached the nineteen-thousand-
foot level, which was about midday, the wind
was so severe that I looked with some anxiety
to the stays of my wings, expecting momen-
tarily to see them snap or slacken. I even cast
loose the parachute behind me, and fastened
its hook into the ring of my leathern belt, so as
to be ready for the worst. Now was the time
when a bit of scamped work by the mechanic
is paid for by the life of the aeronaut. But she
held together bravely. Every cord and strut
was humming and vibrating like so many harp-
strings, but it was glorious to see how, for all
the beating and the buffeting, she was still the
conqueror of Nature and the mistress of the
sky. There is surely something divine in man
himself that he should rise so superior to the
limitations which Creation seemed to impose—
rise, too, by such unselfish, heroic devotion as
this air-conquest has shown. Talk of human
degeneration! When has such a story as this
been written in the annals of our race ?

" These were the thoughts in my head as
I climbed that monstrous inclined plane with
the wind sometimes beating in my face and
sometimes whistling behind my ears, while the
cloud-land beneath me fell away to such a dis-
tance that the folds and hummocks of silver had116 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

all smoothed out into one flat, shining plain.
But suddenly I had a horrible and unprecedented
experience. I have known before what it is to
be in what our neighbours have called a tour-
billon, but never on such a scale as this. That
huge, sweeping river of wind of which I have
spoken had, as it appears, whirlpools within it
which were as monstrous as itself. Without a
moment's warning I was dragged suddenly into
the heart of one. I spun round for a minute or
two with such velocity that I almost lost my
senses, and then fell suddenly, left wing fore-
most, down the vacuum funnel in the centre.
I dropped like a stone, and lost nearly a thou-
sand feet. It was only my belt that kept me in
my seat, and the shock and breathlessness left
me hanging half-insensible over the side of the
fuselage. But I am always capable of a supreme
effort—it is my one great merit as an aviator.
I was conscious that the descent was slower.
The whirlpool was a cone rather than a funnel,
and I had come to the apex. With a terrific
wrench, throwing my weight all to one side, I
levelled my planes and brought her head away
from the wind. In an instant I had shot out of
the eddies and was skimming down the sky.
Then, shaken but victorious, I turned her nose
up and began once more my steady grind on the
upward spiral. I took a large sweep to avoid
the danger-spot of the whirlpool, and soon I was
safely above it. Just after one o'clock I was
twenty-one thousand feet above the sea-level.
To my great joy I had topped the gale, and with
every hundred feet of ascent the air grew stiller.THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 117

On the other hand, it was very cold, and I was
conscious of that peculiar nausea which goes
with rarefaction of the air. For the first time
I unscrewed the mouth of my oxygen bag and
took an occasional whiff of the glorious gas. I
could feel it running like a cordial through
my veins, and I was exhilarated almost to
the point of drunkenness. I shouted and sang
as I soared upwards into the cold, still outer
world.

" It is very clear to me that the insensibility
which came upon Glaisher, and in a lesser
degree upon Coxwell, when, in 1862, they as-
cended in a balloon to the height of thirty
thousand feet, was due to the extreme speed
with which a perpendicular ascent is made.
Doing it at an easy gradient and accustoming
oneself to the lessened barometric pressure by
slow degrees, there are no such dreadful symp-
toms. At the same great height I found that
even without my oxygen inhaler I could breathe
without undue distress. It was bitterly cold,
however, and my thermometer was at zero
Fahrenheit. At one-thirty I was nearly seven
miles above the surface of the earth, and still
ascending steadily. I found, however, that the
rarefied air was giving markedly less support to
my planes, and that my angle of ascent had to
be considerably lowered in consequence. It was
already clear that even with my light weight
and strong engine-power there was a point in
front of me where I should be held. To make
matters worse, one of my sparking-plugs was
in trottble again and there was intermittent118 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

missfiring in the engine. My heart was heavy
with the fear of failure.

" It was about that time that I had a most
extraordinary experience. Something whizzed
past me in a trail of smoke and exploded with
a loud, hissing sound, sending forth a cloud of
steam. For the instant I could not imagine
what had happened. Then I remembered that
the earth is for ever being bombarded by meteor
stones, and would be hardly inhabitable were
they not in nearly every case turned to vapour
in the outer layers of the atmosphere. Here is
a new danger for the high-altitude man, for two
others passed me when I was nearing the forty-
thousand-foot mark. I cannot doubt that at
the edge of the earth's envelope the risk would
be a very real one.

"My barograph needle marked forty-one
thousand three hundred when I became aware
that I could go no farther. Physically, the
strain was not as yet greater than I could bear,
but my machine had reached its limit. The
attenuated air gave no firm support to the wings,
and the least tilt developed into side-slip, while
she seemed sluggish on her controls. Possibly,
had the engine been at its best, another thousand
feet might have been within our capacity, but
it was still missfiring, and two out of the ten
cylinders appeared to be out of action. If I
had not already reached the zone for which I
was searching then I should never see it upon
this journey. But was it not possible that I
had attained it ? Soaring in circles like a mon-
strous hawk upon the forty-thousand-foot levelTHE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 119

I let the monoplane guide herself, and with my
Mannheim glass I made a careful observation
of my surroundings. The heavens were per-
fectly clear ; there was no indication of those
dangers which I had imagined.

" I have said that I was soaring in circles.
It struck me suddenly that I would do well to
take a wider sweep and open up a new air-tract.
If the hunter entered an earth-jungle he would
drive through it if he wished to find his game.
My reasoning had led me to believe that the air-
jungle which I had imagined lay somewhere
over Wiltshire. This should Be to the south and
west of me. I took my bearings from the sun,
for the compass was hopeless and no trace of
earth was to be seen—nothing but the distant
silver cloud-plain. However, I got my direction
as best I might and kept her head straight to
the mark. I reckoned that my petrol supply
would not last for more than another hour or so,
but I could afford to use ,it to the last drop,
since a single magnificent vol-plane could at
any time take me to the earth.

" Suddenly I was aware of something new.
The air in front of me had lost its crystal clear-
ness. It was Ml of long, ragged wisps of some-
thing which I can only compare to very fine
cigarette-smoke. It hung about in wreaths and
coils, turning and twisting slowly in the sun-
light. As the monoplane shot through it, I
wats< aware- of a faint taste of oil upon my lips>.
and there was a greasy scum upon the wood-
work of the machine. Some infinitely fine or-
ganic matter appeared, ta be suspended in the.
9120 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

atmosphere. There was no life there. It was
inchoate and diffuse, extending for many square
acres and then fringing off into the void. No, it
was not life. But might it not be the remains
of life ? Above all, might it not be the food
of life, of monstrous life, even as the humble
grease of the ocean is the food for the mighty-
whale ? The thought was in my mind when
my eyes looked upwards and I saw the most
wonderful vision that ever man has seen. Can I
hope to convey it to you even as I saw it myself
last Thursday ?

"Conceive a jelly-fish such as sails in our
summer seas, bell-shaped and of enormous size
—far larger, I should judge, than the dome of
St. Paul's. It was of a light pink colour veined
with a delicate green, but the whole huge fabric
so tenuous that it was but a fairy outline against
the dark blue sky. It pulsated with* a delicate
and regular rhythm. From it there depended
two long, drooping green tentacles, which swayed
slowly backwards and forwards. This gorgeous
vision passed gently with noiseless dignity over
my head, as light and fragile as a soap-bubble,
and drifted upon its stately way.

" I had half-turned my monoplane, that I
might look after this beautiful creature, when,
in a moment, I found myself amidst a perfect
fleet of them, of all sizes, but none so large as
the first. Some were quite small, but the
majority about as big as an average balloon,
and with much the same curvature at the top.
There was in them a delicacy of texture and
colouring which reminded me of the finestTHE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 121

Venetian glass. Pale shades of pink and green
were the prevailing tints, but all had a lovely
iridescence where the sun shimmered through
their dainty forms. Some hundreds of them
drifted past me, a wonderful fairy squadron of
strange, unknown argosies of the sky—creatures
whose forms and substance were so attuned to
these pure heights that one could not conceive
anything so delicate within actual sight or sound
of earth.

" But soon my attention was drawn to a new
phenomenon—the serpents of the outer air.
These were long, thin, fantastic coils of vapour-
like material, which turned and twisted with
great speed, flying round and round at such a
pace that the eyes could hardly follow them.
Some of these ghost-like creatures were twenty
or thirty feet long, but it was difficult to tell
their girth, for their outline was so hazy that it
seemed to fade away into the air around them.
These air-snakes were of a very light grey or
smoke colour, with some darker lines within,
which gave the impression of a definite organism.
One of them whisked past my very face, and
I was conscious of a cold, clammy contact,
but their composition was so unsubstantial that
I could not connect them with any thought of
physical danger, any more than the beautiful
bell-like creatures which had preceded them.
There was no more solidity in their frames than
in the floating spume from a broken wave.

" But a more terrible experience was in store
for me. Floating downwards from a great
height there came a purplish patch of vapour,122 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

small as I saw it first, but rapidly enlarging as
it approached me, until it appeared to be hun-
dreds of square feet in size. Though fashioned
of some transparent, jelly-like substance, it was
none the less of much more definite outline and
solid consistence than anything which I had seen
before. There were more traces, too, of a phy-
sical organization, especially two vast shadowy,
circular plates upon either side, which may
have been eyes, and a perfectly solid white
projection between them which was as curved
and crueLas the beak of a vulture.

" The whole aspect of this monster was for-
midable and threatening, and it kept changing
its colour from a very light mauve to a dark,
angry purple so thick that it cast a shadow as
it drifted between my monoplane and the sun.
On the upper curve of its huge body there were
three great projections which I can only describe
as enormous bubbles, and I was convinced as I
looked at them that they were charged with
some extremely light gas which served to buoy
up the misshapen and semi-solid mass in the
rarefied air. The creature moved swiftly along,
keeping pace easily with the monoplane, and for
twenty miles or more it formed my horrible
escort, hovering over me like a bird of prey
which is waiting to pounce. Its method of pro-
gression—done so swiftly that it was not easy to
follow — was to throw out a long, glutinous
streamer in front of it, which in turn seemed to
draw forward the rest of the writhing body.
So elastic and gelatinous was it that never for
two successive minutes was it the same shape-,THE HORROR OP THE HEIGHTS 123

and yet each change made it more threatening
and loathsome than the last.

" I knew that it meant mischief. Every
purple flush of its hideous body told me so.
The vague, goggling eyes which were turned
always upon me were cold and merciless in
their viscid hatred. I dipped the nose of my
monoplane downwards to escape it. As I did
so, as quick as a flash there shot out a long
tentacle from this mass of floating blubber, and
it fell as light and sinuous as a whip-lash across
the front of my machine. There was a loud
hiss as it lay for a moment across the hot engine,
and it whisked itself into the air again, while the
huge flat body drew itself together as if in
sudden pain. I dipped to a vol-piqtte, but
again a tentacle fell over the monoplane and was
shorn off by the propeller as easily as it might
have cut through a smoke wreath. A long,
gliding, sticky, serpent-like coil came from
behind and caught me round the waist, drag-
ging me out of the fuselage. I tore at it, my
fingers sinking into the smooth, glue-like surface,
and for an instant I disengaged myself, but
only to be caught round the boot by another
coil, which gave me a jerk that tilted me almost
on to my back.

"As I fell over I blazed off both barrels of
my gun, though, indeed, it was like attacking
an elephant with a pea-shooter to imagine
that any human weapon could cripple that
mighty bulk. And yet I aimed better than I
knew, for, with-#, loud report, one of the great
blisters upon the creature's back exploded with124 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

the puncture of the buck-shot. It was very
clear that my conjecture was right, and that
these vast clear bladders were distended with
some lifting gas, for in an instant the huge
cloud-like body turned sideways, writhing des-
perately to find its balance, while the white beak
snapped and gaped in horrible fury. But al-
ready I had shot away on the steepest glide that
I dared to attempt, my engine still full on, the
flying propeller and the fqpce of gravity shoot-
ing me downwards like an aerolite. Far behind
me I saw a dull, purplish smudge growing swiftly
smaller and merging into the blue sky behind it.
I was safe out of the deadly jungle of the outer
air.

" Once out of danger I throttled my engine,
for nothing tears a machine to piece3 quicker
than running on full power from a height. It
was a glorious spiral vol-plane from nearly
eight miles of altitude—first, to the level of the
silver cloud-bank, then to that of the storm-
cloud beneath it, and finally, in beating rain, to
the surface of the earth. I saw the Bristol
Channel beneath me as I broke from the clouds,
but, having still some petrol in my tank, I got
twenty miles inland before I found myself
stranded in a field half a mile from the village
of Ashcombe. There I got three tins of petrol
from a passing motor-car, and at ten minutes
past six that evening I alighted gently in my
own home meadow at Devizes, after such a
journey as no mortal upon earth has ever yet
taken and lived to tell the tale. I have seen
the beauty and I have seen the horror of theTHE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS 125

heights—and greater beauty or greater horror
than that is not within the ken of man.

" And now it is my plan to go once again
before I give my results to the world. My
reason for this is that I must surely have some-
thing to show by way of proof before I lay such
a tale before my fellow-men. It is true that
others will soon follow and will confirm what I
have said, and yet I should wish to carry con-
viction from the first. Those lovely iridescent
bubbles of the air should not be hard to capture.
They drift slowly upon their way, and the swift
monoplane could intercept their leisurely course.
It is likely enough that they would dissolve in
the heavier layers of the atmosphere, and that
some small heap of amorphous jelly might be
all that I should bring to earth with me. And
yet something there would surely be by which
I could substantiate my story. Yes, I will go,
even if I run a risk by doing so. These purple
horrors would not seem to be numerous. It
is probable that I shall not see one. If I do I
shall dive at once. At the worst there is always
the shot-gun and my knowledge of . . ."

Here a page of the manuscript is unfortu-
nately missing. On the next page is written,
in large, straggling writing :—

" Forty-three thousand feet. I shall never
see earth again. They are beneath me, three
of them. God help me; it is a dreadful death
to die! "126 THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS

Such, in its entirety is the Joyce-Armstrong
Statement. Of the man nothing has since been
seen., Pieces of his shattered monoplane have
been picked up in the preserves of Mr. Budd-
Lushington upon the borders of Kent and
Sussex, within a few miles of the spot where the
note-book was discovered. If the unfortunate
aviator's theory is correct that this air-jungle,
;as he called it, existed only over the south-west
of England, then it wouM seem that he had
fled from it at the Ml speed of his monoplane,
'but had been overtaken and devoured by these
horrible creatures at some spot in the outer
atmosphere above the place where the grim relics
were found. The picture of that monoplane
skimming down the sky, with the*Jiameless
.terrors flying as swiftly beneath it and cutting
>it off always from the earth while they gradually
closed in upon their victim, is one upon which
a man who valued his sanity would prefer not
to dwell. There are many, as I am aware, who
still jeer at the facts which I have here set
down, but even they must admit that Joyce-
Armstrong has disappeared, and I would com-
mend to them his own words : " This note-book
may explain what I am trying to do, and how
I lost my life in doing it. But no drivel about
accidents or mysteries, if you please."VI

BORROWED SCENES

" It cannot be done. People really would not stand it. I
know because I have tried."—Extract from an unpublished paper
upon George Borrow and his writings.

Yes., I tried and my experience may interest
other _people. You must imagine, then, that I
am soaked in George Borrow, especially in his
Jhavengro and his Romany Rye, that I have
modelled both my thoughts, my speech and my
style very carefully upon those of the master,
and that finally I set forth one summer day
actually to lead the life of which I had read.
Behold me, then, upon the country road which
leads from the railway-station to the Sussex
village of Swinehurst.

As I walked, I entertained myself by recollec-
tions of the founders of Sussex, of Cerdic that
mighty sea-rover, and of Ella his son, said by the
bard to be taller by the length of a spear-head
than the tallest of his fellows. I mentioned the
matter twice to peasants whom I met upon the
road. One, a tallish man with a freckled face,
sidled past me and ran swiftly towards the

127128	BORROWED SCENES

station. The other, a smaller and older man,
stood entranced while I recited to him that
passage of the Saxon Chronicle which begins,
" Then came Leija with longships forty-four,
and the fyrd went out against him." I was
pointing out to him that the Chronicle had been
written partly by the monks of Saint Albans
and afterwards by those of Peterborough, but
the fellow sprang suddenly over a gate and dis-
appeared.

The village of Swinehurst is a straggling line
of half-timbered houses of the early English
pattern. One of these houses stood, as I ob-
served, somewhat taller than the rest, and see-
ing by its appearance and by the sign which
hung before it that it was the village inn, I
approached it, for indeed I had not broken my
fast since I had left London. A stoutish man,
five foot eight perhaps in height, with black
coat and trousers of a greyish shade,stood outside,
and to him I talked in the fashion of the master.

" Why a rose and why a crown ? " I asked as
I pointed upwards.

He looked at me in a strange manner. The
man's whole appearance was strange. " Why
not ? " he answered, and shrank a little back-
wards.

" The sign of a king," said I.

" Surely," said he. " What else should we
understand from a crown ? "BORROWED SCENES	129

" And which king \ " I asked.

" You will excuse me," said he, and tried to
pass.

" Whicli king ? " I repeated.

" How should I know ? " he asked.

"You should know by the rose," said I,
" which is the symbol of that Tudor-ap-Tudor,
who, coming from the mountains of Wales, yet
seated his posterity upon the English throne.
Tudor," I continued, getting between the stranger
and the door of the inn, through which he ap-
peared to be desirous of passing, " was of the
same blood as Owen Glendower, the famous
chieftain, who is by no means to be confused
with Owen Gwynedd, the father of Madoc of
the Sea, of whom the bard made the famous
cnylyn, which runs in the Welsh as follows :-"

I was about to repeat the famous stanza of
Dafydd-ap-Gwilyn when the man, who had
looked very fixedly and strangely at me as I
spoke, pushed past me and entered the inn.
" Truly," said I aloud, " it is surely Swinehurst
to which I have come, since the same means
the grove of the hogs." So saying I followed
the fellow into the bar parlour, where I per-
ceived him seated in a corner with a large chair
in front of him. Four persons of various degrees
were drinking beer at a central table, whilst a
small man of active build, in a black, shiny suit,
which seemed to have seen much service, stood.130	BORROWED SCENES

before the empty fireplace. Him I took to be
the landlord, and I asked him what I should have
for my dinner.

He smiled, and said that he could not tell.

" But surely, my friend," said I, " you can
tell me what is ready 1 "

" Even that I cannot do," he answered ; " but
I doubt not that the landlord can inform us."
On this he rang the bell, and a fellow answered,
to whom I put the same question.

" What would you have ? " he asked.

I thought of the master, and I ordered a cold
leg of pork to be washed down with tea and beer.

" Did you say tea and beer ? " asked the
landlord.

" I did."

" For twenty-five years have I been in busi-
ness," said the landlord, " and never before have
I been asked for tea and beer."

" The gentleman is joking," said the man
with the shining coat.

" Or else-" said the elderly man in the

corner.

" Or what, sir ? " I asked.

" Nothing," said he—" nothing." There was
something very strange in this man in the corner
—him to whom I had spoken of Dafydd-ap-
Gwilyn.

" Then you are joking," said the landlord.

I asked him if he had read the works of myBORROWED SCENES	131

master, George Borrow. He said that he had
not. I told him that in those five volumes he
would not, from cover to cover, find one trace
of any sort of a joke. He would also find that
my master drank tea and beer together. Now
it happens that about tea I have read nothing
either in the sagas or in the bardic cnylynions,
but, whilst the landlord had departed to pre-
pare my meal, I recited to the company those
Icelandic stanzas which praise the beer of
Gunnar, the long-haired son of Harold the
Bear. Then, lest the language should be un-
known to some of them, I recited my own
translation, ending with the line—

If the beer be small, then let the mug be large,

I then asked the company whether they went
to church or to chapel. The question surprised;
them, and especially the strange man in the
corner, upon whom I now fixed my eye. I had
read his secret, and as I looked at him he tried
to shrink behind the clock-case.

"The church or the chapel ? " I asked birry

" The church," he gasped.

" Which church ? " I asked.

He shrank farther behind the clock. " I. have
never been so questioned," he cried.

I showed him that I knew his secret., '' Home
was not built in a day," said I.132	BORROWED SCENES

" He ! He ! " he cried. Then, as I turned
away, he put his head from behind the clock-
case and tapped his forehead with his forefinger.
So also did the man with the shiny coat, who
stood before the empty fireplace.

Having eaten the cold leg of pork—where is
there a better dish, save only boiled mutton
with capers ?—and having drunk both the tea
and the beer, I told the company that such a
meal had been called " to box Harry " by the
master, who had observed it to be in great
favour with commercial gentlemen out of Liver-
pool. With this information and a stanza or
two from Lopez de Yega I left the Inn of the
Rose and Crown behind me, having first paid
my reckoning. At the door the landlord asked
me for my name and address.

" And why ? " I asked.

" Lest there should be inquiry for you," said
the landlord.

" But why should they inquire for me ? "

" Ah, who knows ? " said the landlord, mus-
ing. And so I left him at the door of the Inn
of the Rose and Crown, whence came, I observed,
a great tuinult of laughter. " Assuredly,"
thought I, " Rome was not built in a day."

Having walked down the main street of
Swinehurst, which, as I have observed, consists
of half-timbered buildings in the ancient style,
I came out upon the country road, and proceededBORROWED SCENES	133

to look for those wayside adventures, which are,
according to the master, as thick as black-
berries for those who seek them upon an English
highway. I had already received some boxing
lessons before leaving London, so it seemed to
me that if I should chance to meet some traveller
whose size and age seemed such as to encourage
the venture I would ask him to strip off his coat
and settle any differences which we could find
in the old English fashion. I waited, therefore,
by a stile for any one who should chance to
pass, and it was while I stood there that the
screaming horror came upon me, even as it
came upon the master in the dingle, I gripped
the bar of the stile, which was of good British
oak. Oh, who can tell the terrors of the scream-
ing horror! That was what I thought as I
grasped the oaken bar of the stile. Was it the
beer—or was it the tea ? Or was it that the
landlord was right and that other, the man
with the black, shiny coat, he who had answered
the sign of the strange man in the corner ?
But the master drank tea with beer. Yes, but
the master also had the screaming horror. All
this I thought as I grasped the bar of British
oak, which was the top of the stile. For half
an hour the horror was upon me. Then it
passed, and I was left feeling very weak and
still grasping the oaken bar.

I had not moved from the stile, where I had134	BORROWED SCENES

been seized by the screaming horror, when.' I
heard the sound of steps behind me, and turn-
ing round I perceived that a pathway led across
the field upon the farther side of the stile. A
woman was coming towards me along this
pathway, and it was evident to me that she was
one of those gipsy Rias, of whom the master
has said so much. Looking beyond her, I could
see the smoke of a fire from a small dingle, which
showed where her tribe were camping. The
woman herself was of a moderate height, neither
tall nor short, with a face which was much sun-
burned and freckled. I must confess that she
was not beautiful, but I do not think that any-
one, save the master, has found very beautiful
women walking about upon the high-roads of
England.. Such as she was I must make the
best of her, and well I knew how to addtess her,
for many times had I admired the mixture of
politeness and audacity which should be used
in such a case. Therefore, when the woman-
had come to the stile, I held out my hand and
helped her over.

" What says the Spanish poet Calderon ? "
said I. "I doubt not that you have read the'
couplet which has been thus Englished:

Oh, maiden,, may I humbly pray

That I may help you on your way,"

The- woman blushed, but said nothing.BORROWED SCENES	135

" Where/5 I asked, " are tlie Romany clials
and the Romany chis % "

She turned her head away and was silent.

"Though I am a gorgio," said I, "I know
something of the Romany lil," and to prove it
I sang the stanza—

Coliko, coliko saulo wer
Apopli to the farming ker
Will wel and mang him mullo,

Will wel and mang his truppo.

The girl laughed, but said nothing. It ap-
peared to me from her appearance that she
might be one of those who make a living at
telling fortunes or " dukkering," as the master
calls it, at racecourses and other gatherings of
the sort.

"Do you dukker ? " I asked.

She slapped me on the arm. " Well, you are
a pot of ginger! " said she.

I was pleased at the slap, for it put me in
mind of the peerless Belle. " You can use
Long Melford," said I, an expression which, with
the master, meant fighting.

" Get along with your sauce! " said she, and
struck me again.

"You are a very fine young woman," said I,
" and remind me of Grunelda, the daughter of
Hjalmar, who stole the golden bowl from the
King of the Islands."

10136	BORROWED SCENES

She seemed annoyed at this. "You keep a
civil tongue, young man," said she.

" I meant no harm, Belle. I was but com-
paring you to one of whom the saga says her
eyes were like the shine of sun upon icebergs."

This seemed to please her, for she smiled.
" My name ain't Belle," she said at last.

" What is your name ? "

" Henrietta."

" The name of a queen," I said aloud.

" Go on," said the girl.

" Of Charles's queen," said I, " of whom
Waller the poet (for the English aI<o have their
poets, though in this, respect far interior to the
Basques)—of whom, I say, Waller the poet said :

That she was Queen was the Creator's act,

Belated man could but endorse the fact."

" I say! " cried the girl. " How you do
go on! "

" So now," said I, " since I have shown you
that you are a queen you will surely give me a
choomer "—this being a kiss in Romany talk.

"I'll give you one on the ear-hole," she
cried.

" Then I will wrestle with you," said I.
" If you should chance to put me down, I will
do penance by teaching you the Armenian
alphabet—the very word alphabet, as you will
perceive, shows us that our letters came fromBORROWED SCENES	137

Greece. If, on the other hand, I should chance
to put you down, you will give me a choomer."

I had got"so far, and she was climbing the
stile with some pretence of getting away from
me, when there came a van along the road,
belonging, as I discovered, to a baker in Swine-
hurst. The horse, which was of a brown colour,
was such as is bred in the New Forest, being
somewhat under fifteen hands and of a hairy,
ill-kempt variety. As I know less than the
master about horses, I will say no more of this
horse, save to repeat that its colour was brown
—nor indeed had the horse or the horse's'colour
anything to do with my narrative. I might
add, however, that it could either be taken as
a small horse or as a large pony, being some-
what tall for the one, but undersized for the
other. I have now said enough about this
horse, which has nothing to do with my story,
and I will turn my attention to the driver.

This was a man with a broad, florid face and
brown side-whiskers. He was of a stout build
and had rounded shoulders, with a small mole
of a reddish colour over his left eyebrow. His
jacket was of velveteen, and he had large, iron-
shod boots, which were perched upon the splash-
board in front of him. He pulled up the van
as he came up to the stile near which I was
standing with the maiden who had come from
the dingle, and in" a civil fashion he asked me if138	BORROWED SCENES

I could oblige him with a light for his pipe.
Then, as I drew a matchbox from my pocket,
he threw his reins over the splashboard, and
removing his large, iron-shod boots he des-
cended on to the road. He was a burly man,
but inclined to fat and scant of breath. It
seemed to me that it was a chance for one of
those wayside boxing adventures which were
so common in the olden times. It was my in-
tention that I should fight the man, and that the
maiden from the dingle standing by me should
tell me when to use my right or my left, as the
case might be, picking me up also in case I
should be so unfortunate as to be knocked down
by the man with the iron-shod boots and the
small mole of a reddish colour over his left eye-
brow.

" Do you use Long Melford ? " I asked.

He looked at me in some surprise, and said
that any mixture was good enough for him.

" By Long Melford," said I, "I do not mean,
as you seem to think, some form of tobacco, but
I mean that art and science of boxing which
was held in such high esteem by our ancestors,
that some famous professors of it, such as the
great Gully, have been elected to the highest
offices of the. State. There were men of the
highest character amongst the bruisers of Eng-
land, of whom I would particularly mention
Tom of Hereford, better known as Tom Spring,BORROWED SCENES	139

though his father's name, as I have been given
to understand, was Winter. This, however,
has nothing to do with the matter in hand,
which is that you must fight me."

The man with the florid face seemed very
much surprised at my words, so that I cannot
think that adventures of this sort were as
common as I had been led by the master to
expect.

" Fight! " said he. " What about ? "

" It is a good old English custom," said I,
" by which we may determine which is the
tetter man."

" I've nothing against you," said he.

" Nor I against you," I answered. " So that
we will fight for love, which was an expression
much used in olden days. It is narrated by
Harold Sygvynson that among the Danes it was
usual to do so even with battle-axes, as is told
in his second set of runes. Therefore you will
take ofi your coat and fight." As I spoke, I
stripped ofi my own.

The man's face was less florid than before.
" I'm not going to fight," said he.

" Indeed you are," I answered, " and this
young woman will doubtless do you the service
to hold your coat."

" You're clean balmy," said Henrietta.
- " Besides," said I, " if you will not fight me
for lo'tte, perhaps you will fight me for this,"140	BORROWED SCENES

and I held out a sovereign. " Will you hold
his coat ? " I said to Henrietta.

" I'll hold the thick 'un," said she.

" No, you don't," said the man, and put the
sovereign into the pocket of his trousers, which
were of a corduroy material. " Now," said he,
" what am I to do to earn this ? "

" Fight," said I.

" How do you do it ? " he asked.

" Put up your hands," I answered.

He put them up as I had said, and stood
there in a sheepish manner with no idea of any-
thing further. It seemed to me that if I could
make him angry he would do better, so I
knocked off his hat, which was black and hard,
of the kind which is called billy-cock.

"Heh, guv'nor! " he"cried, "what are you
up to ? "

" That was to make you angry," said I.

" Well, I am angry," said he.

" Then here is your hat," said I, " and after-
wards we shall fight."

I turned as I spoke to pick up his hat, which
had rolled behind where I was standing. As I
stooped to reach it, I received such a blow
that I could neither rise erect nor yet sit down.
This blow which I received as I stooped for his
billy-cock hat was not from his fist, but from
his iron-shod boot, the same which I had observed
upon the splashboard. Being unable either toBORROWED SCENES	141

rise erect or yet to sit down, I leaned upon the
oaken bar of the stile and groaned loudly on
account of the pain of the blow which I had
received. Even the screaming horror had given
me less pain than this blow from the iron-shod
boot. When at last I was able to stand erect, I
found that the florid-faced man had driven
away with his cart, which could no longer be
seen. The maiden from the dingle was standing
at the other side of the stile, and a ragged man
was running across the field from the direction
of the fire.

" Why did you not warn me, Henrietta ? "
I asked.

" I hadn't time," said-she. " Why were you
such a chump as to turn your back on him like
that ? "

The ragged man had reached us, where I
stood talking to Henrietta by the stile. I will
not try to write his conversation as he said it,
because I have observed that the master never
condescends to dialect, but prefers by a word
introduced here and there to show the fashion
of a man's speech. I will only say that the man
from the dingle spoke as did the Anglo-Saxons,
who were wont, as is clearly shown by the vener-
able Bede, to call their leaders 'Enjist and 'Orsa,
two words which in their proper meaning signify
a horse and a mare.

" What did he hit you for ? " asked the man142	BORROWED SCENES

from the dingle. He was exceedingly ragged,
with a powerful frame, a lean brown face, and
an oaken cudgel in his hand. Hi8 voice was
very hoarse and rough, as is the case with those
who live in the open air. " The bloke hit you,"
said he. " What did the bloke hit you for 1 "
" He asked him to," said Henrietta.

"Asked him to—asked him what? "
" Why, he asked him to hit him. Gave him
a thick 'un to do it."

The ragged man seemed surprised. " See
here, gov'nor," said he. " If you're collecting
I could let you have one half-price."

" He took me unawares," said I.

" What else would the bloke do when you
bashed his hat ? " said the maiden from the
dingle.

By this time I was able to straighten myself
up by the aid of the oaken bar which formed the
top of the stile. Having quoted a few lines of
the Chinese poet Lo-tun-an to the effect that,
however hard a knock might be, it might always
conceivably be harder, I looked about for my
coat, but could by no means find it..

" Henrietta," I said, " what have you done
with my coat ? "

" Look here, gov'nor," said the man from the
dingle, " not so much Henrietta, if it's the same
to you. This woman's my wife. Who are you
to call her Henrietta ? "BORROWED SCENES

143

I assured the man from the dingle that I had
meant no disrespect to his wife. " I had
thought she was a mort," said I; " but the ria
of a Romany chal is always sacred to me."

" Clean balmy," said the woman.

" Some other day," said I, " I may visit you
in your camp in the dingle and read you the
master's book about the Romanys."

" What's Romanys % " asked the man.

Myself. Romanys are gipsies.

The Man. We ain't gipsies.

Myself. What are you then ?

The Man. We are hoppers.

Myself (to Henrietta). Then how did you
understand all I have said to you about gipsies %

Henrietta. I didn't.

I again asked for my coat, but it was clear
now that before offering to fight the florid-faced
man with the mole over his left eyebrow I must
have hung my coat upon the splashboard of his
van. I therefore recited a verse from Ferideddin-
Atar, the Persian poet, which signifies that it is
more important to preserve your skin than your
clothes, and bidding farewell to the man from
the dingle and his wife I returned into the old
English village of Swinehurst, where I was able
to buy a second-hand coat, which enabled me
to make my way to the station, where I should
start for London. I could not but remark with
some surprise that I was followed to the station144 * BORROWED SCENES

by many of the villagers, together with the man
with the-shiny coat, and that other, the strange
man, he who had slunk behind the clock-case.
From time to time I turned and approached
them, hoping to fall into conversation with
them; but as I did so they would break and
hasten down the road. Only the village con-
stable came on, and he walked by my side and
listened while I told him the history of Hunyadi
Janos and the events which occurred during the
wars between that hero, known also as Corvinus
or the crow-like, and Mahommed the second, he
who captured Constantinople, better known as
Byzantium, before the Christian epoch. To-
gether with the constable I entered the station,
and seating myself in a carriage I took paper from
my pocket and I began to write upon the paper
all that had occurred to me, in order that I might
show that it was not easy in these days to follow
the example of the master. As I wrote, I heard
the constable talk to the station-master/ & stout,
middle-sized man with a red neck-tie, and tell
him of my own adventures in the old English
village of Swinehurst.

" He is a gentleman too," said the constable,
" and I doubt not that he lives in a big hpuse in
London town."

" A very big house if every man had his rights,"
said the station-master, and waving his hand he
signalled that the train should proceed.VII

THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

I—How the Woman came to Kirkby-
Malhouse

Bleak and wind-swept is the little town of
Kirkby-Malhouse, harsh and forbidding are the
fells upon which it stands. It stretches in a
single line of grey-stone, slate-roofed houses,
dotted down the furze-clad slope of the rolling
moor.

In this lonely and secluded village, I, James
Upperton, found myself in the summer of '85.
Little as the hamlet had to offer, it contained that
for which I yearned above all things—seclusion
and freedom from all which might distract my
mind from the high and weighty subjects which
engaged it. But the inquisitiveness of my
landlady made my lodgings undesirable and I
determined to seek new quarters.

As it chanced, I had in one of my rambles
come upon an isolated dwelling in the very heart
of these lonely moors, which I at once determined
should be my own. It was a two-roomed cottage,
which had once belonged to some shepherd, but

145146 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

had long been deserted, and was crumbling
rapidly to ruin. In the winter floods, the Gaster
Beck, which runs down Gaster Fell, where the
little dwelling stood, had overswept its banks and
torn away a part of the wall. The roof was in ill
case, and the scattered slates lay thick amongst
the grass. Yet the main shell of the house stood
firm and true; and it was no<great task for me
to have all that was amiss set right.

The two rooms I laid out in a widely different
manner—my own tastes are of a Spartan turn,
and the outer chamber was so planned as to
accord with them. An oil-stove by Rippingille
of Birmingham furnished me with the means of
cooking ; while two great bags, the one of flour,
and the other of potatoes, made me independent
of all supplies from without. In diet I had long
been a Pythagorean, so that the scraggy, long-
limbed sheep which browsed upon the wiry grass
by the Gaster Beck had little to fear from their
new companion. A nine-gallon cask of oil
served me as a sideboard ; while a square table,
a deal chair and a truckle-bed completed the list
of my domestic fittings. At the head of my
couch hung two unpainted shelves—the lower
for my dishes and cooking utensils, the upper for
the few portraits which took me back to the little
that was pleasant in the long, wearisome toiling
for wealth and for pleasure which had marked
the life I had left behind.» THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 147

If this dwelling-room of mine were plain even
to squalor, its poverty was more than atoned for
by the luxury of the chamber which was destined
to serve me as my study. I had ever held that it
was best for my mind to be surrounded by such
objects as would be in harmony with the studies
which occupied it, and that the loftiest and most
ethereal conditions of thought are only possible
amid surroundings which please the eye and
gratify the senses. The room which I had set
apart for my mystic studies was set forth in a
style as gloomy and majestic as the thoughts and
aspirations with which it was to harmonise.
Both walls and ceilings were covered with a
paper of the richest and glossiest black, on which
was traced a lurid and arabesque pattern of dead
gold. A black velvet curtain covered the single
diamond-paned window ; while a thick, yielding
carpet of the same material prevented the sound
of my own footfalls, as I paced backward and
forward, from breaking the current of my thought.
Along the cornices ran gold rods, from which
depended six pictures, all of the sombre and
imaginative caste, which chimed best with my
fancy.

And yet it was destined that ere ever I reached
this quiet harbour I should learn that I was still
one of humankind, and that it is an ill thing to
strive to break the bond which binds us to our
fellows. It was but two nights before the date]48 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

I had fixed upon for my change of dwelling, when
I was conscious of a bustle in the house beneath,
with the bearing of heavy burdens up the creak-
ing stair, and the harsh voice of my landlady,
loud in welcome and protestations of joy. From
time to time, amid the whirl of words, I could
hear a gentle and softly modulated voice, which
struck pleasantly upon my ear after the long
weeks during which I had listened only to the
rude dialect of the dalesmen. For an Jiour I
could hear the dialogue beneath—the high
voice and the low, with clatter of cup and clink
of spoon, until at last a light, quick step passed
my study door, and I knew that my new fellow
lodger had sought her room.

On the morning after this incident I was up
Retimes, as is my wont; but I was surprised, on
glancing from my window, to see that our new
inmate was earlier still. She was walking down
the narrow pathway, which zigzags over the fell
—a tall woman, slender, her head sunk upon
her breast, her arms filled with a bristle of wild
flowers, which she had gathered in her morning
rambles. The white and pink of her dress, and
the touch of deep red ribbon in her broad drooping
hat, formed a pleasant dash of colour against the
dun-tinted landscape. She was some distance
off when I first set eyes upon her, yet I knew that
this wandering woman could be none other than
our arrival of last night, for there was a graceTHE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 149

and refinement in her bearing which marked
her from the dwellers of the fells. Even as I
watched, she passed swiftly and lightly down
the pathway, and turning through the wicket
gate, at the further end of our cottage garden she
seated herself upon the green bank which faced
my window, and strewing her flowers in front of
her, set herself to arrange them.

As she sat there, with the rising sun at her
back, and the glow of the morning spreading like
an aureole around her stately and well-poised
head, I could see that she was a woman of extra-
ordinary personal beauty. Her face was Spanish
rather than English in its type—oval, olive, with
black, sparkling eyes, and a sweetly sensitive
mouth. From under the broad straw hat two
thick coils of blue-black hair curved down on
either side of her graceful, queenly neck. I was
surprised, as I watched her, to see that her shoes
and skirt bore witness to a journey rather than
to a mere morning ramble. Her light dress was
stained, wet and bedraggled; while her boots
were thick with the yellow soil of the fells. Her
face, too,wore a weary expression, and her young
beauty seemed to be clouded over by the shadow
of inward trouble. Even as I watched her, she
burst suddenly into wild weeping, and throwing
down her bundle of flowers ran swiftly into the
house.

Distrait as I was and weary of the ways of the150 THE SURGEON OP GASTER FELL

world, I was conscious of a sudden pang of
sympathy and grief as I looked upon the spasm
of despair which seemed to convulse this strange
and beautiful woman. I bent to my books, and
yet my thoughts would ever turn to her proud
clear-cut face, her weather-stained dress, her
drooping head, and the sorrow which lay in each
line and feature of her pensive face.

Mrs. Adams, my landlady, was wont to carry
up my frugal breakfast; yet it was very rarely
that I allowed her to break the current of my
thoughts, or to draw my mind by her idle chatter
from weightier things. This morning, however,
for once, she found me in a listening mood, and
with little prompting, proceeded to pour into
my ears all that she knew of our beautiful visitor.

"Miss Eva Cameron be her name, sir," she
said : " but who she be, or where she came fra,
I know little more than ycrarselV Maybe it
was the Same reason that brought her to Kirkby-
Malhouse as fetched you there yourseF, sir."

" Possibly," said I, ignoring the covert ques-
tion ; " but I should hardly have thought that
Kirkby-Malhouse was a place which offered any
great attractions to a young lady."

" Heh, sir! " she cried, " there's the wonder
of it. The leddy has just come fra France;
and how her folk come to learn of me is just a
wonder. A week ago, up comes a man to my
door—a fine man, sir, and a gentleman, as oneTHE SURGEON OF GASTER. FELL 151

could see with half an eye. ' You are Mrs.
Adams,' says he. ' I engage your rooms for Miss
Cameron,' says he. ' She will be here in a
week,' says he ; and then off without a word of
terms. Last night there comes the young leddy
hersel'—soft-spoken and downcast, with a touch
of the French in her speech. But my sakes, sir!
I must away and mak' her some tea, for she'll
feel lonesome-like, poor lamb, when she wakes
under a strange roof."

II—How I WENT FORTH TO GASTER FELL

I was still engaged upon my breakfast when
I heard the clatter of dishes and the landlady's
footfall as she passed toward her new lodger's
room. An instant afterward she had rushed
down the passage and burst in upon me with
uplifted hand and startled eyes. " Lord 'a
mercy, sir ! " she cried," and asking your pardon
for troubling you, but I'm feared o' the young
leddy, sir; she is not in her room."

" Why, there she is," said I, standing up and
glancing through the casement. " She has gone
back for the flowers she left upon the bank."

" Oh, sir, see her boots and her dress ! " cried
the landlady, wildly. " I wish her mother was
here, sir—I do. Where she has been is more
than I ken, but her bed has not been lain on this
night."

" She haa felt restless, doubtless, and went for
11152 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

a walk, though the hour was certainly a strange

one."

Mrs. Adams pursed her lip and shook her head.
But then as she stood at the casement, th^ girl
beneath looked smilingly up at her and beckoned
to her with a merry gesture to open the window.

" Have you my tea there ? " she asked in a
rich, clear voice, with a touch of the mincing
French accent.

" It is in your room, miss."

" Look at my boots, Mrs. Adams! " she cried,
thrusting them out from under her skirt. " These
fells of yours are dreadful places—effroyable—
one inch, two inch; never have I seen such mud!
My dress, too—voild! "

" Eh, miss, but you are in a pickle," cried the
landlady, as she gazed down at the bedraggled
gown. " But you must be main weary and
heavy for sleep."

" No, no," she answered, laughingly, " I care
not for sleep. What is sleep ? it is a little death
—voild tout. But for me to walk, to run, to
beathe the air—that is to live. I was not tired,
and so all night I have explored these fells of
Yorkshire."

" Lord 'a mercy, miss, and where did you go ? "
asked Mrs. Adams.

She waved her hand round in a sweeping
gesture which included the whole western horizon.
" There," she cried. " 0 comme elles sont tristesTHE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 153

et sauvages; ces collines! But I have flowers
here. You will give me water, will you not?
They will wither else." She gatheredher treasures
in her lap, and a moment later we heard her
light, springy footfall upon the stair.

So she had been out all night, this strange
woman. What motive could have taken her
from her snug room on to the bleak, wind-swept
hills ? Could it be merely the restlessness, the
love of adventure of a young girl ? Or was there,
possibly, some deeper meaning in this nocturnal
journey ?

Deep as were the mysteries wfiich my studies
had taught me to solve, here was a human prob-
lem which for the moment at least was beyond
my comprehension. I had walked out on the
moor in the forenoon, and on my return, as I
topped the brow that overlooks the little town,
I saw my fellow-lodger some little distance of!
among the gorse. j3he had raised a light easel
in front of her, and with papered board laid across
it, was preparing to paint the magnificent land-
scape of rock and moor which stretched away
in front of her. As I watched her I saw that she
was loolgmg anxiously to right and left. Close
by me a pool of water had formed in a hollow.
Dipping the cup of my pocket-flask into it, I
carried it across to her.

" Miss Cameron, I believe," said I. "I
'am your fellow-lodger. Upperton is my name.154 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

We must introduce ourselves in these wilds if
we are not to be for ever strangers."

" Oh, then, you live also with Mrs. Adams ! "
she cried. " I had thought that there were none
but peasants in this strange place."

" I am a visitor, like yourself," I answered.
" I am a student, and have come for quiet and
repose, which my studies demand."

" Quiet, indeed ! " said she, glancing round
at the vast circle of silent moors, with the one
tiny line of grey cottages which sloped down
beneath us.

" And yet not quiet enough," I answered,
laughing," for I have been forced to move further
into the fells for the absolute peace which I
require."

" Have you, then, built a house upon the fells 1"
she asked, arching her eyebrows.

" I have, and hope within a few days to occupy
it."

" Ah, but that is triste," she cried. " And
where is it, then, this house whichyou have builtl"

" It is over yonder," I answered. " See that
stream which lies like a silver band upon the
distant moor ? It is the Gastei Beck, and it runs
through Gaster Fell."

She started, and turned upon me her great
dark, questioning eyes with a look in which sur-
prise, incredulity, and something akin to horror
seemed to be struggling for mastery.THE SURGEON OF GASTER EELL 155

" And you will live on the Gaster Fell ? " she
cried.

" So I have planned. But what do you know
of Gaster Fell, Miss Cameron ? " I asked. " I
had thought that you were a stranger in these
parts."

" Indeed, I have never been here before," she
answered. " But I have heard my brother talk
of these Yorkshire moors ; and, if I mistake not,
I have heard him name this very one as the
wildest and most savage of them all."

" Very likely," said I, carelessly. "It is
indeed a dreary place.

" Then why live there ? " she cried, eagerly.
" Consider the loneliness, the barrenness, the
want of all comfort and of all aid, should aid be
needed."

" Aid ! What aid should be needed on Gaster
Fell ? "

She looked down and shrugged her shoulders.
" Sickness may come in all places," said she.
" If I were a man I do not think I would live
alone on Gaster Fell."

" I have braved worse dangers than that,"
said I, laughing; " but I fear that your picture
will be spoiled, for the clouds are banking up,
and already I feel a few raindrops."

Indeed, it was high time we were on our way
to shelter, for even as I spoke there came the
sudden, steady swish of the shower. Laughing156 THE SUEGEON OF GASTER FELL

merrily, my companion threw her light shawl
over her head, and, seizing picture and easel, ran
with the lithe grace of a young fawn down the
furze-clad slope, while I followed after with

camp-stool and paint-box.

• • • • •

It was the eve of my departure from Kirkby-
Malhouse that we sat upon the green bank in the
garden, she with dark dreamy eyes looking sadly
out over the sombre fells; while I, with a book
upon my knee, glanced covertly at her lovely
profile and marvelled to myself how twenty years
of life could have stamped so sad and wistful
an expression upon it.

" You have read much," I remarked at last.
" Women have opportunities now such as their
mothers never knew. Have you ever thought of
going further—or seeking a course of college or
even a learned profession ? "

She smiled wearily at the thought.

" I have no aim, no ambition," she said.
" My future is black—confused—a chaos. My
life is like to one of these paths upon the fells.
You have seen them, Monsieur Upperton. They
are smooth and straight and clear where they
begin; but soon they wind to left and wind to
right, and so mid rocks and crags until they lose
themselves in some quagmire. At Brussels my
path was straight; but now, mon Dieu ! who is
there can tell me where it leads ? "THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 157

" It might take no prophet to do that, Miss
Cameron," quoth I, with the fatherly manner
which twoscore years may show toward one.
" If I may read your life, I would venture to say
that you were destined to fulfil the lot of women—
to make some good man happy, and to shed
around, in some wider circle, the pleasure which
your society has given me since first I knew you."

" I will never marry," said she, with a sharp
decision, which surprised and somewhat amused
me.

" Not marry—and why ? "

A strange look passed over her sensitive fea-
tures, and she plucked nervously at the grass on
the bank beside her.

" I dare not," said she in a voice that quivered
with emotion.

" Dare not ? "

" It is not for me. I have other things to do.
That path of which I spoke is one which I must
tread alone."

" But this is morbid," said I. " Why should
your lot, Miss Cameron, be separate from that
of my own sisters, or the thousand other young
ladies whom every season brings out into the
world 1 But perhaps it is that you have a fear
and distrust of mankind. Marriage brings a
risk as well as a happiness."

" The risk would be with the man who married
me," she cried. And then in an instant, as158 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

though she had said too much, she sprang to her
feet and drew her mantle round her. " T he night
air is chill, Mr. Upperton," said she, and so swept
swiftly away, leaving me to muse over the strange
words which had fallen from her lips.

Clearly, it was time that I should go. I set
my teeth and vowed that another day should not
have passed before I should have snapped this
newly formed tie and sought the lonely retreat
which awaited me upon the moors. Breakfast
was hardly over in the morning before a peasant
dragged up to the door the rude hand-cart which
was to convey my few personal belongings to my
new dwelling. My fellow-lodger had kept her
room ; and, steeled as my mind was against her
influence, I was yet conscious of a little throb of
disappointment that she should allow me to
depart without a word of farewell. My hand-
cart with its load of books had already started,
and I, having shaken hands with Mrs. Adams,
was about to follow it, when there was a quick
scurry of feet on the stair, and there she was
beside me all panting with her own haste.

" Then you go—you really go ? " said she.

" My studies call me."

" And to Gaster Fell ? " she asked.

" Yes; to the cottage which I have built there."

" And you will live alone there ? "

" With my hundred companions who lie in
that cart."THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 159

" Ah, books ! " she cried, with a pretty shrug
of her graceful shoulders. " But you will make
me a promise ? "

" What is it ? " I asked, in surprise.

" It is a small thing. Y ou will not refuse me?"

" You have but to ask it."

She bent forward her beautiful face with an
expression of the most intense earnestness.
"You will bolt your door at night ? " said she;
and was gone ere I could say a word in answer to
her extraordinary request.

It was a strange thing for me to find myself at
last duly installed in my lonely dwelling. For
me, now, the horizon was bounded by the barren
circle of wiry, unprofitable grass, patched over
with furze bushes and scarred by the profusion
of Nature's gaunt and granite ribs. A duller,
wearier waste I have never seen; but its dullness
was its very charm.

And yet the very first night which I spent at
Gaster Fell there came a strange incident to
lead my thoughts back once more to the world
which I had left behind me.

It had been a sullen and sultry evening, with
great livid cloud-banks mustering in the west.
As the night wore on, the air within my little
cabin became closer and more oppressive. A
weight seemed to rest upon my brow and my
chest. From far away the low rumble of thunder
came moaning over the moor. Unable to sleep,160 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

I dressed, and standing at my cottage door, looked
on the black solitude which surrounded me.

Taking the narrow sheep path which ran by
this stream, I strolled along it for some hundred
yards, and had turned to retrace my steps, when
the moon was finally buried beneath an ink-
black cloud, and the darkness deepened so sud-
denly that I could see neither the path at my
feet, the stream upon my right, nor the rocks
upon my left. I was standing groping about in
the thick gloom, when there came a crash of
thunder with a flash of lightning which lighted
up the whole vast fell, so that every bush and
rock stood out clear and hard in the vivid light.
It was but for an instant, and yet that momentary
view struck a thrill of fear and astonishment
through me, for in my very path, not twenty
yards before me, there stood a woman, the livid
light beating upon her face and showing up every
detail of her dress and features.

There was no mistaking those dark eyes,
that tall, graceful figure. It was she—Eva
Cameron, the woman whom I thought I had
for ever left. For an instant I stood petrified,
marvelling whether this could indeed be she, or
whether it was some figment conjured up by my
excited brain. Then I ran swiftly forward in the
direction where I had seen her, calling loudly
upon her, but without reply. Again I called,
and again no answer came back, save the melan-THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 161

choly wail of the owl. A second flash, illuminated
the landscape, and the moon burst out from
behind its cloud. But I could not, though I
climbed upon a knoll which overlooked the whole
moor, see any sign of this strange midnight
wanderer. For an hour or more I traversed the
fell, and at last found myself back at my little
cabin, still uncertain as to whether it had been a
woman or a shadow upon which I gazed.

Ill—Of the Grey Cottage in the Glen

It was either on the fourth or the fifth day
after I had taken possession of my cottage that
I was astonished to hear footsteps upon the grass
outside, quickly followed by a crack, as from a
stick upon the door. The explosion of an infernal
machine would hardly have surprised or dis-
comfited me more. I had hoped to have shaken
off all intrusion for ever, yet here was somebody
beating at my door with as little ceremony as
if it had been a village ale-house. Hot with
anger, I flung down my book and withdrew the
bolt just as my visitor had raised his stick to
renew his rough application for admittance.
He was a tall, powerful man, tawny-bearded and
deep-chested, clad in a loose-fitting suit of tweed,
cut for comfort rather than elegance. As he
stood in the shimmering sunlight, I took in every
feature of his face. The large, fleshy nose;
the steady blue eyes, with their thick thatch of162 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

overhanging brows; the .broad forehead, all
knitted arid lined with furrows, ^hich were
strangely at variance with his youthful bearing.
In spite of his weather-stained felt hat, and the
coloured handkerchief slung round his muscular
brown neck, I could see at a glance he was a man
of breeding and education. I had been prepared
for some wandering shepherd or uncouth tramp,
but this apparition fairly disconcerted me.

" Yoa look astonished," said he, with a smile.
"Did you think, then, that you were the only man
in the world with a taste for solitude ? You see
that there are other hermits in the wilderness
besides yourself."

" Do you mean to say that you live here ? "
I asked in no conciliatory voice.

"Up yonder," he answered, tossing his head
backward. " I thought as we were neighbours,
Mr. Upperton, that I could not do less than look
in and see if I could assist you in any way."

" Thank you," I said coldly, standing with my
hand upon the latch of the door. " I am a man
of simple tastes, and-you can do nothing for me.
You have the advantage of me in knowing my
name."

He appeared to be chilled by my ungracious
manner.

" I learned it from the masons who were at
work here," he said. " A s for me, I am a surgeon,
the surgeon of Gaster Fell. That is the nameTHE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 163

I have gone by in these parts, and it serves as
well as another."

" Not much room for practice here I
observed.

" Not a soul except yourself for miles on either
side."

" You appear to have had need of some assist-
ance yourself," I remarked, glancing at a broad
white splash, as from the recent action of some
powerful acid, upon his sunburnt cheek.

" That is nothing," he answered, curtly, turn-
ing his face half round to hide the mark. " I
must get back, for I have a companion who is
waiting for me. If I can ever do anything for
you, pray let me know. You have only to follow
the beck upward for a mile or so to find my place.
Have you a bolt on the inside of your door % "

"Yes," I answered, rather startled at this
question.

" Keep it bolted, then," he said. " The fell is
a strange place. You never know who may be
about. It is as well to be on the safe side. Good,-
bye." He raised his hat, turned on his heel and
lounged away along the bank of the little stream.

I was still standing with my hand upon the
latch, gazing after my unexpected visitor, when
I became aware of yet another dweller in the
wilderness. Some distance along the path which
the stranger was taking there lay a great grey
boulder, and leaning against this was a small,164 THE SURGEON OP GASTER PELL

wizened man, who stood erect as the other ap-
proached, and advanced to meet him. The two
talked for a minute or more, the taller man
nodding his head frequently in my direction, as
though describing what had passed between us.
Then they walked on together, and disappeared
in a dip of the fell. Presently I saw them ascend-
ing once more some rising ground farther .on.
My acquaintance had thrown his arm round his
elderly friend, either from affection or from a
desire to aid him up the steep incline. The square
burly figure and its Shrivelled, meagre companion
stood out against the sky-line, and turning their
faces, they looked back at me. At the sight, I
slammed the door, lest they should be encouraged
to return. But when I peeped from the window
some minutes afterward, I perceived that they
were gone.

All day I bent over the Egyptian papyrus
upon which I was engaged; but neither the
subtle reasonings of the ancient philosopher of
Memphis, nor the mystic meaning which lay in
his pages, could raise my mind from the things of
earth. Evening was drawing in before I threw
my work aside in despair. My heart was bitter
against this man for his intrusion. Standing
by the beck which purled past the door of my
cabin, I cooled my heated brow, and thought the
matter over. Clearly it was the small mystery
hanging over these neighbours of mine which hadTHE SURGEON OP GASTER FELL 165

caused my mind to ran so persistently on them.
That cleared up, they would no longer cause an
obstacle to my studies. What was to hinder me,
then, from walking in the direction of their
dwelling, and observing for myself, without per-
mitting them to suspect my presence, what
manner of men they might be ? Doubtless, their
mode of life would be found to admit of some
simple and prosaic explanation. In any case, the
evening was fine, and a walk would be bracing for
mind and body. Lighting my pipe, I set off over
the moors in the direction which they had taken.

About half-way down a wild glen there stood a
small clump of gnarled and stunted oak trees.
From behind these, a thin dark column of smoke
rose into the still evening air. Clearly this
marked the position of my neighbour's house.
Trending away to the left, I was able to gain the
shelter of a line of rocks, and so reach a spot
from which I could command a view of the build-
ing without exposing myself to any risk of being
observed. It was a small, slate-covered cottage,
hardly larger than the boulders among which it
lay. Like my own cabin, it showed signs of
having been constructed for the use of some
shepherd; but, unlike mine, no pains had been
taken by the tenants to improve and enlarge it.
Two little peeping windows, a cracked and
weather-beaten door, and a discoloured barrel for
catching the rain water, were the only external166 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

objects from which I might draw deductions as
to the dwellers within. Yet even in these there
was food for thought, for as I drew nearer, still
concealing myself behind the ridge, I saw that
thick bars of iron covered the windows, while the
old door was slashed and placed with the same
metal. These strange precautions, together with
the wild surroundings and unbroken solitude,
gave an indescribably ill omen and fearsome
character to the solitary building. Thrusting
my pipe into my pocket, I crawled upon my hands
and knees through the gorse and ferns until I
was within a hundred yards of my neighbour's
door. There, finding that I could not approach
nearer without fear of detection, I crouched down,
and set myself to watch.

I had hardly settled into my hiding place,
when the door of the cottage swung open, and
the man who had introduced himself to me as
the surgeon of (raster Fell came out, bareheaded,
with a spade in his hands. In front of the door
there was a small cultivated patch containing
potatoes, peas and other forms of green stuff,
and here he proceeded to busy himself, trimming,
weeding and arranging, singing the while in a
powerful though not very musical voice. He
was all engrossed in his work, with his back to
the cottage, when there emerged from the half-
open door the same attenuated creature whom I
had seen in the morning. I could perceive nowTHE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 167

that he was a man of sixty, wrinkled, bent, and
feeble, with sparse, grizzled hair, and long,
colourless face. With a cringing, sidelong gait,
he shuffled toward his companion, who was
unconscious of his approach until he was close
upon him. His light footfall or his breathing
may have finally given notice of his proximity,
for the* worker sprang round and faced him.
Each made a quick step toward the other, as
though in greeting, and then—even now I feel
the horror of the instant—the tall man rushed
upon and knocked his companion to the earth,
then whipping up his body, ran with great speed
over the intervening ground and disappeared
with his burden into the house.

Case hardened as I was by my varied life, the
suddenness and violence of the thing made me
shudder. The man's age, his feeble frame, his
humble and deprecating manner, all cried shame
against the deed. So hot was my anger, that I
was on the point of striding up to the cabin, un-
armed as I was, when the sound of voices from
within showed me that the victim had recovered.
The sun had sunk beneath the horizon, and all
was grey, save a red feather in the cap of Penni-
gent. Secure in the failing light, I approached
near and strained my ears to catch what was
passing. I could hear the high, querulous voice
of the elder man and the deep, rough monotone
of his assailant, mixed with a strange metallic
12168 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

jangling and clanking. Presently the surgeon
came out, locked the doorbehind him and stamped
up and down in the twilight, pulling at his hair
and brandishing his arms, like a man demented.
Then he set off, walking rapidly up the valley,
and I soon lost sight of him among the rocks.

When his footsteps had died away in the
distance, I drew nearer to the cottage. The
prisoner within was still pouring forth a stream
of words, and moaning from time to time like a
man in pain. These words resolved themselves,
as I approached, into prayers—shrill, voluble
prayers, pattered forth with the intense earnest-
ness of one who sees impending an imminent
danger. There was to me something inexpres-
sibly awesome in this gush of solemn entreaty
from the lonely sufferer, meant for no human ear,
and jarring upon the silence of the night. I was
stiir pondering whether I should mix myself
in the affair or not, when I heard in the distance
the sound of the surgeon's returning footfall.
At that I drew myself up quickly by the iron
bars and glanced in through the diamond-paned
window. The interior of the cottage was lighted
up by a lurid glow, coming from what I afterward
discovered to be a chemical furnace. By its
rich light I could distinguish a great litter of
retorts, test tubes and condensers, which sparkled
over the table, and threw strange, grotesque
shadows on the wall. On the further side of theTHE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 169

room was a wooden framework resembling a
hencoop, and in this, still absorbed in prayer,
knelt the man whose voice I heard. The red
glow beating upon his upturned face made it
stand out from the shadow like a painting from
■Rembrandt, showing up every wrinkle upon the
parchment-like skin. I had but time for a
fleeting glance; then, dropping from the window,
I made ofE through the rocks and the heather,
nor slackened my pace until I found myself back
in my cabin once more. There I threw myself
upon my coucjfi, more disturbed and shaken
than I had ever thought to feel again.

Such doubts as I might have had as to whether
I had indeed seen my former fellow-lodger upon
the night of the thunderstorm were resolved the
next morning. Strolling along down the path
which led to the fell, I saw in one spot where the
ground was soft the impressions of a foot—the
small, dainty foot of a well-booted woman.
That tiny heel and high instep could have
belonged to none other than my companion of
Kirkby-Malhouse. I followed her trail for some
distance, till it still pointed, as farjas I could
discern it, to the lonely and ill-omened cottage.
What power could there be to draw this tender
girl, through wind and rain and darkness, across
the fearsome moors to that strange rendezvous ?

I have said that a little beck flowed down the
valley and past iny very door. A week or so170 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

after the doings which I have described, I was
seated by my window when I perceived some-
thing white drifting slowly down the stream. My
first thought was that it was a drowning sheep;
but picking up my stick, I strolled to the bank
and hooked it ashore. On examination it proved
to be a large sheet, torn and tattered, with the
initials J. C. in the corner. What gave it its
sinister significance, however, was that from
hem to hem it was all dabbled and discoloured.

Shutting the door of my cabin, I set off up
the glen in the direction of the surgeon's cabin.
I had not gone far before I perceived the very
man himself. He was walking rapidly along the
hillside, beating the furze bushes with a cudgel
and bellowing like a madman. Indeed, at the sight
of him, the doubts as to his sanity which had arisen
in my mind were strengthened and confirmed.

As he approached I noticed that his left arm
was suspended in a sling. On perceiving me he
stood irresolute, as though uncertain whether
to come over to me or not. I had no desire for
an interview with him, however, so I hurried
past him, on which he continued on his way,
still shouting and striking about with his club.
When he had disappeared over the fells, I made
my way down to his cottage, determined to find
some clue to what had occurred. 1 was sur-
prised, on reaching it, to find the iron-plated door
flung wide open. The ground immediately out-THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 171

side it was marked with the signs of a struggle.
The chemical apparatus within and the furniture
were all dashed about and shattered. Most
suggestive of all, the sinister wooden cage was
stained with blood-marks, and its unfortunate
occupant had disappeared. My-heart was heavy
for the little man, for I was assured I should
never see him in this world more.

There was nothing in the cabin to throw any
light upon the identity of my neighbours. The
room was stuffed with chemical instruments.
In one corner a small bookcase contained a choice
selection of works of science. In another was a
pile of geological specimens collected from the
limestone.

I caught no glimpse of the surgeon upon my
homeward journey; but when I reached my
cottage I was astonished and indignant to find
that somebody had entered it in my absence.
Boxes had been pulled out from under the bed,
the curtains disarranged, the chairs drawn out
from the wall. Even my study had not been safe
from this rough intruder, for the prints of a heavy
boot were plainly visible on the ebony-black carpet.

IV—Op the Man who came in the Night

The night set in gusty and tempestuous, and
the moon was all girt with ragged clouds. The
wind blew in melancholy gusts, sobbing and
sighing over the moor, and setting all the gorse172 THE SURGEON OP GASTER FELL

bushes agroaning. From time to time a little
sputter of rain pattered up against the window-
pane. I sat until near midnight, glancing over
the fragment on immortality by Iamblichus, the
Alexandrian platonist, of whom the Emperor
Julian said that he was posterior to Plato in
time but not in genius. At last, shutting up my
book, I opened my door and took a last look at
the dreary fell and still more dreary sky. As I
protruded my head, a swoop of wind caught me
and sent the red ashes of my pipe sparkling and
dancing through the darkness. At the same
moment the moon shone brilliantly out from
between two clouds, and I saw, sitting on the
hillside, not two hundred yards from my door,
the man who called himself the surgeon of Gaster
Fell. He was squatted among the heather, his
elbows upon his knees, and his chin resting upon
his hands, as motionless as a stone, with his gaze
fixed steadily upon the door of my dwelling.

At the sight of this ill-omened sentinel, a chill
of horror and of fear shot through me, for his
gloomy and mysterious associations had cast a
glamour round the man, and the hour and place
were in keeping with his sinister presence. In
a moment, however, a manly glow of resentment
and self-confidence drove this petty emotion
from my mind, and I strode fearlessly in his
direction. He rose as I approached and faced
me, with the moon shining on his grave, beardedTHE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 173

face and glittering on his eyeballs. '' What is the
meaning of this ? " I cried, as I cajne upon him.
" What right have you to play the spy on me ? "

I could see the flush of anger rise on his face.
" Your stay in the country has made you forget
your manners," he said. " The moor is free to
all."

"You will say next that my house is free to
all," I said, hotly. "You have had the imperti-
ence to ransack it in my absence this afternoon."

He started, and his features showed the most
intense excitement. " I swear to you that I had
no hand in it! " he cried. " I have never set
foot in your house in my life. Oh, sir, sir, if you
will but believe me, there is a danger hanging
over you, and you would do well to be careful."

" I have had enough of you," I said. " I
saw that cowardly blow you struck when you
thought no human eye rested upon you. X have
been to your cottage, too, and know all that it has
to tell. If there is a law in England, you shall
hang for what you have done. As to me, I am
an old soldier, sir, and I am armed. I shall not
fasten my door. But if you or any other villain
attempt to cross my threshold it shall be at your
own risk." With these words, I swung round
upon my heel and strode into my cabin.

For two days the wind freshened and in-
creased, with constant squalls of rain until on
the third night the most furious storm was174 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

raging which I can ever recollect in England. I
felt that it was positively useless to go to bed,
nor could I concentrate my mind sufficiently
to read a book. I turned my lamp half down
to moderate the glare, and leaning back in my
chair, I gave myself up to reverie. I must have
lost all perception of time, for I have no recol-
lection how long I sat there on the borderland
betwixt thought and slumber. At last, about
3 or possibly 4 o'clock, I came to myself with a
start—not only came to myself, but with every
sense and nerve upon the strain. Looking
round my chamber in the dim light, I could not
see anything to justify my sudden trepidation.
The homely room, the rain-blurred window and
the rude wooden door were all as they had been.
I had begun tQ persuade myself that some half-
formed dream had sent that vague thrill through
my nerves, when in a moment I became conscious
of what it was. It was a sound—the sound of
a human step outside my solitary cottage.

Amid the thunder and the rain and the wind
I could hear it—a dull, stealthy footfall, now
on the grass, now on the stones—occasionally
stopping entirely, then resumed, and ever draw-
ing nearer. I sat breathlessly, listening to the
eerie sound. It had stopped now at my very
door, and was replaced by a panting and gasp-
ing, as of one who has travelled fast and far.

By the flickering light of the expiring lampTHE SURGEON OE GASTER FELL 175

I could see that the latch of my door was twitch-
ing, as though a gentle pressure was exerted on
it from without. Slowly, slowly, it rose, until
it was free of the catch, and then there was a
pause of a quarter minute or more, while I still
sat silent with dilated eyes and drawn sabre.
Then, very slowly, the door began to revolve
upon its hinges, and the keen air of the night
came whistling through the slit. V ery cautiously
it was pushed open, so that never a sound came
from the rusty hinges. As the aperturef en-
larged, I became aware of a dark, shadowy
figure upon my threshold, and of a pale face that
looked in at me. The features were human,
but the eyes were not. They seemed to burn
through the darkness with a greenish brilliancy
of their own; and in their baleful, shifty glare
I was conscious of the very spirit of murder.
Springing from my chair, I had raised my naked
sword, when, with a wild shouting, a second
figure dashed up to my door. At its approach
my shadowy visitant uttered a shrill cry, and fled
away across the fells, yelping like a beaten hound.

Tingling with my recent fear, I stood at my
door, peering through the night with the dis-
cordant cry of the fugitives still ringing in my
ears. At that moment a vivid flash of lightning
illuminated the whole landscape and made it as
clear as day. By its light I saw far away upon
the hillside two dark figures pursuing each other176 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL

with extreme rapidity across the fells. Even at
that distance the contrast between them forbid
all doubt as to their identity. The first was the
small, elderly man, whom I had supposed to be
dead; the second was my neighbour, the sur-
geon. For an instant they stood out clear and
hard in the unearthly light; in the next, the
darkness had closed over them, and they were
gone. As I turned to re-enter my chamber, my
foot rattled against something on my threshold.
Stooping, I found it was a straight knife,fashioned
entirely of lead, and so soft and brittle that it
was a strange choice for a weapon. To render
it more harmless, the top had been cut square
off. The edge, however, had been assiduously
sharpened against a stone, as was evident from
the markings upon it, so that it was still a dan-
gerous implement in the grasp of a determined
man.

And what was the meaning of it all? you
ask. Many a drama which I have come across
in my wandering life, some as strange and as
striking as this one, has lacked the ultimate
explanation which you demand. Fate is a grand
weaver of tales; but she ends them, as a rule,
in defiance of all artistic laws, and with an un-
becoming want of regard for literary propriety.
As it happens, however, I have a letter before me
as I write which I may add without comment,
and which will clear all that may remain dark.THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL 177

" Kirkby Lunatic Asylum,

"September 41885,

" Sir,—I am deeply conscious that some apology and
explanation is due to you for the very startling and,
in your eyes, mysterious events which have recently
occurred, and which have so seriously interfered with the
retired existence which you desire to lead. I should
have called upon you on the morning after the recapture
of my father, but my knowledge of your dislike to
visitors and also of—you will excuse my saying it—
your very violent temper, led me to think that it was
better to communicate with you by letter.

" My poor father was a hard-working general prac-
titioner in Birmingham, where his name is still remem-
bered and respected. About ten years ago he began
to show signs of mental aberration, which we were
inclined to put down to overwork and the effects of a
sunstroke. Feeling my own incompetence to pronounce
upon a case of such importance, I at once sought the
highest advice in Birmingham and London. Among
others we consulted the eminent alienist, Mr. Fraser
Brown, who pronounced my father's case to be inter-
mittent in its nature, but dangerous during the par-
oxysms. 4 It may take a homicidal, or it may take
a religious turn/ he said; 8 or it may prove to be a
mixture of both. For months'he may be as well as
you or me, and then in a moment he may break out.
You will incur a great responsibility if you leave him
without supervision/

" I need say no more, sir. You will understand the
terrible task which has fallen upon my poor sister and
me in endeavouring to save my father from the asylum
which in his sane moments filled him with horror. I
can only regret that your peace has been disturbed by
our misfortunes, and I offer you in my sister's name
and my own our apologies."

"Yours truly,

"J. Cameron."VIII

HOW IT HAPPENED

She was a writing medium. This is what she
wrote:—

I can remember some things upon that even-
ing most distinctly, and others are like some
vague, broken dreams. That is what makes it
so difficult to tell a connected story. I have no
idea now what it was that had taken me to
London and brought me back so late. It just
merges into all my other visits to London. But
from the time that I got out at the little country
station everything is extraordinarily clear. I
can live it again—every instant of it.

I remember so well walking down the plat-
form and looking at the illuminated clock at the
end which told me that it was half-past eleven.
I remember also my wondering whether I could
get home before midnight. Then I remember
the big motor, with its glaring headlights and
glitter bf polished brass, waiting for me outside.
It was my new thirty-horse-power Kobur, which
had only been delivered that day. I remember
also asking Perkins, my chauffeur, how she had

178HOW IT HAPPENED	179

gone, and his saying that he thought she was
excellent.

" I'll try her myself," said I, and I climbed
into the driver's seat. ^

" The gears are not the same," said he.
" Perhaps, sir, I had better drive."

" No; I should like to try her," said I.

And so we started on the five-mile drive for
home.

My old car had the gears aB they used always
to be in notches on a bar. In this car you passed
the gear-lever through a gate to get on the
higher ones. It was not difficult to master, and
soon -I thought that I understood it. It was
foolish, no doubt, to begin to learn a new system
in the dark, but one often does foolish things,
and one has not always to pay the full price for
them. I got along very well until I came to
Claystall Hill. It is one of the worst hills in
England, a mile and a half long and one in six
in places, with three fairly sharp curves. My
park gates stand at the very foot of it upon the
main London road.

We were just over the brow of this hill, where
the grade is steepest, when the trouble began.
I had been on the top speed, and wanted to get
her on the free; but she stuck between gears,
and I had to get her back on the top again.
By this time she was going at a great rate, so I
clapped on both brakes, and one after the other180	HOW JT HAPPENED

they gave way. I didn't mind so much when I
felt my footbrake snap, but when I put all my
weight on my side-brake, and the lever clanged
to its full limit without a catch, it brought a cold
sweat out of me. By this time we were fairly
tearing down the slope. The lights were bril-
liant, and I brought her round the first curve all
right. Then we did the second one, though it
was a close shave for the ditch. There was a
mile of straight then with the third curve be-
neath it, and after that the gate of the park.
If I could shoot into that harbour all would be
well, for the slope up to the house would bring
her to a stand.

Perkins behave^ splendidly. I should like
that to be known. He was perfectly cool and
alert. I had thought at the very beginning of
taking the bank, and he read rrjy intention.*

" I wouldn't do it, sir," said he. " At this
pace it must go over and we should have it on
the top of us."

Of course he wa;s right. He got to the electric
switch and had it off, so we were in the free;
but we were still running a fearful pace. He
laid his hands on the wheel.

" I'll keep her steady," said he, " if you care
to jump and chance it. We can never get round
that curve. Better jump, sir."

"No," said I; "I'll stick it out. You can
jump if you like."HOW IT HAPPENED	181

" I'll stick it with you, sir," said he.

If it had been the old car I should have
jammed the gear-lever into the reverse, and
seen what would happen. I expect she would
have stripped her gears or smashed up somehow,
but it would have been a chance. As it was,
I was helpless. Perkins tried to climb across,
but you couldn't do it going at that pace.
The wheels were whirring like a high wind and
the big body creaking and groaning with the
strain. But the lights Were brilliant, and one
could steer to an inch. I remember thinking
what an awful and yet majestic sight we should
appear to any one who met us. It was a narrow
road, and we were just a great, roaring, golden
death to any one who came in our path.

We got round the corner with one wheel three
feet high upon the bank. I thought we were
surely over, but after staggering for a moment
she righted and darted onwards. That was the
third corner and the last one. There was only
the park gate now. It was facing us, but, as luck
would have it, not facing us directly. It was
about twenty yards to the left up the main road
into which we ran. Perhaps I could have done
it, but I expect that the steering-gear had been
jarred when we ran on the bank. The wheel
did not turn easily. We shot out of the lane.
I saw the open gate on the left. I whirled round
my wheel with all the strength of my wrists.182	HOW IT HAPPENED

Perkins and I threw our bodies across, and then
the next instant, going at fifty miles an hour,
my right front wheel struck full on the right-
hand pillar of my own gate. I heard the crash.
I was conscious of flying through the air, and
then—and then-!

When I became aware of my own existence
once more I was among some brushwood in
the shadow of the oaks upon the lodge side of
the drive. A man was standing beside me. I
imagined at first that it was Perkins, but when
I looked again I saw that it was Stanley, a man
whom I had known at college some years before,
and for whom I had a really genuine affection.
There was always something peculiarly sympa-
thetic to me in Stanley's personality; and I was
proud to think that I had some similar influence
upon him. At the present moment I was sur-
prised to see him, but I was like a man in a
dream, giddy and shaken and quite prepared to
take things as I found them without questioning
them.	«

" What a smash ! " I said. " Good Lord,
what an awful smash ! "

He nodded his head, and even in the glocm
I could see that he was smiling the gentle,
wistful smile which I connected with him.

I was quite unable to move. Indeed, I had
not any desire to try to move. But my sensesHOW IT HAPPENED	183

were exceedingly alert. I saw the wreck of the
motor lit tip by the moving lanterns. I saw the
little group of people and heard the hushed
voices. There were the lodge-keeper and his
wife, and one or two more. They were taking
no notice of me, but were very busy round the
car. Then suddenly I heard a cry of pain.

" The weight is on him. Lift it easy," cried
a voice.

" It's only my leg! " said another one, which
I recognized as Perkins's. " Where's master ? "
he cried.

" Here J am," I answered, but they did not
seem to hear me. They were all bending over
something which lay in front of the car.

Stanley laid his hand upon my shoulder, and
his touch was inexpressibly soothing. I felt
light and happy, in spite of all.

" No pain, of course ? " said he.

" None," said I.

" There never is," said he.

And then suddenly a wave of amazement
passed over me. Stanley! Stanley! Why,
Stanley had surely died of enteric at Bloem-
fontein in the Boer War !

" Stanley! " I cried, and the words seemed
to choke my throat—" Stanley, you are dead."

He looked at me with the same old gentle,
wistful smile.

" So are you," he answered.

13IX

THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

The circumstances, so far as they were known
to the public, concerning the death of the beau-
tiful Miss Ena Garnier, and the fact that Captain
John Fowler, the accused officer, had refused
to defend himself on the occasion of the proceed-
ings at the police-court, had roused very general
interest. This was increased by the. statement
that, though he withheld his defence, it would
be found to be of a very novel and convincing
character. The assertion of the prisoner's lawyer
at the police-court, to the effect that the answer
to the charge was such that it could not yet be
given, but would be available before the Assizes,
also caused much speculation. A final touch
was given to the curiosity of the public when it
was learned that the prisoner had refused all
offers of legal assistance from counsel and was
determined to conduct his own defence. The
case for the Crown was ably presented, and was
generally considered to be a very damning one,
since it showed very clearly that the accused
was subject to fits of jealousy, and that he had
already been guilty of some violence owing to

184THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE 185

this cause. The prisoner listened to the evi-
dence without emotion, and neither interrupted
nor cross-questioned the witnesses. Finally, on
being informed that the time had come when
he might address the jury, he stepped to the
front of the dock. He was a man of striking
appearance, swarthy, black-moustached, ner-
vous, and virile, with a quietly confident manner.
Taking a paper from his pocket he read the
following statement, which made the deepest
impression upon the crowded court:—

I would wish to say, in the first place, gentle-
men; of the jury, that, owing to the generosity
of my brother officers—for my own means are
limited—I might have been defended to-day by
the first talent of the Bar. The reason I have
declined their assistance and have determined
to fight my own case is not that I have any con-
fidence in my own abilities or eloquence, but it
is because I am convinced that a plain, straight-
forward tale, coming direct from the man who
has been the tragic actor in this dreadful affair,
will impress you more than any indirect state-
ment could do. If I had felt that I were guilty
I should have asked for help. Since, in my own
heart, I believe that I am innocent, I am plead-
ing my own cause, feeling that my plain words
of truth and reason will have more weight with
you than the most learned and eloquent advo-186 THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

cate. By the indulgence of the Court I have
been permitted to put my remarks upon paper,
bo that I may reproduce certain conversations
and be assured of saying neither more nor less
than I mean.

It will be remembered that at the trial at the
police-court two months ago I refused to defend
myself. This has been referred to to-day as a
proof of my guilt. I said that it would be some
days before I could open my mouth. This was
taken at the time as a subterfuge. Well, the
days are over, and I am now able to make clear
to you not only what took place, but also why
it was impossible for me to give any explana-
tion. I will tell you now exactly what I did
and why it was that I did it. If you, my fellow-
countrymen, think that I did wrong, I will
make no complaint, but will suffer in silence
any penalty which you may impose upon me.

I am a soldier of fifteen years' standing, a
captain in the Second Breconshire Battalion.
I have served in the South African Campaign
and was mentioned in despatches after the battle
of Diamond Hill. When the war broke out with
Germany I was seconded from my regiment,
and I was appointed as adjutant to the First
Scottish Scouts, newly raised. The regiment
was quartered at Radchurch, in Essex, where the
men were placed partly in huts and were partly
billeted upon the inhabitants. All the officersTHE PRISONER'S DEFENCE 187

were billeted out, and my quarters were with
Mr. Murreyfield, the local squire. It was there
that I first met Miss Erta Gamier.

It may not seem proper at such a time and
place as this that-I should describe that lady.
And yet her personality is the very essence of
my case. Let me only say that I cannot be-
lieve that Nature ever put into female form a
more exquisite combination of beauty and in-
telligence. She was twenty-five years of age,
blonde and tall, with a peculiar delicacy of fea-
tures and of expression. I have read of people
falling in love at first sight, and had always
looked upon it as an expression of the novelist.
And yet from the moment that I saw Ena
Gamier life held for me but the one ambition—
that she should be mine. I had never dreamed
before of the possibilities of passion that were
within me. I will not enlarge upon the subject,
but to make you understand my action—for I
wish you to comprehend it, however much you
may condemn it—you must realize that I was
in the grip of a frantic elementary passion which
made, for a time, the world and all that was in
it seem a small thing if I could but gain the love
of this one girl. And yet, in justice to myself,
I will say that there was always one thing which
I placed above her. That was my honour as a
soldier and a gentleman. You will find it hard
to believe this when i tell you what occurred,188 THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

and yet—though for one moment I forgot myself
—rpy whole legal offence consists in my desper-
ate endeavour to retrieve what I had done.

I soon found that the lady was not insensible
to the advances which I made to her. Her
position in the household was a curious one.
She had come a year before from Montpellier,
in the South of France, in answer to an adver-
tisement from the Murreyfields in order to teach
French to their three young children. She was,
however, unpaid, so that she was *rather a
friendly guest than an employee. She had
always, as I gathered, been fond of the English
and desirous to live in England, but the out-
break of the war had quickened her feelings
into passionate attachment, for the ruling emo-
tion of her soul was her hatred of the Germans.
Her grandfather, as she told me, had been killed
under very tragic circumstances in the campaign
of 1870, and her two brothers were both in the
French army. Her voice vibrated with passion
when she spoke of the infamies of Belgium,
and more than once I have seen her kissing
my sword and my revolver because she hoped
they would be used upon the enemy. With
such feelings in her heart it can be imagined
that my wooing was not a difficult one. I
should have been glad to marry her at once,
but to this she would not consent. Everything
was to come after the war, for it was necessary,THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

189

she said, that I should go to Montpellier and
meet her people, so that the French proprieties
should be properly observed.

She had one accomplishment which was rare
for a lady; she was a skilled motor-cyclist.
She had been fond of long, solitary rides, but
after our engagement I was occasionally allowed
to accompany her.. She was a woman, however,
of strange moods and fancies, which added in
my feelings to the charm of her character.
She could be tenderness itself, and she could be
aloof and even harsh in her manner. More
than once she had refused my company with no
reason given, and with a quick, angry flash of
her eyes when I asked for one. Then, perhaps,
her mood would change and she would make
up for this unkindness by some exquisite atten-
tion which would in an instant soothe all my
ruffled feelings. It was the same in the house.
My military duties were so exacting that it was
only in the evanings that I could hope to see
her, and yet very often she remained in the little
study which was used during the day for the
children's lessons, and would tell me plainly
that she wished to be alone. Then, when she
saw that I was hurt by her caprice, she would
laugh and apologize so sweetly for her rudeness
that I was more her slave than ever.

Mention has been made of my jealous dis-
position, and it has been asserted at the trial190 THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

that there were scenes owing to my jealousy,
and that once Mrs. Murreyfield had to interfere.
I admit that I was jealous. When a man loves
with the whole strength of his soul it is impos-
sible, I think, that he should be clear of jealousy.
The girl was of a very independent spirit. I
found that she knew many officers at Chelmsford
and Colchester. She would disappear for hours
together upon her motor-cycle. There were
questions about her past life which she would
only answer with a smile unless they were closely
pressed. Then the smile would become a frown.
Is it any wonder that I, with my whole nature
vibrating with passionate, whole-hearted love,
was often torn by jealousy when I came upon
those closed doors of her life which she was so
determined not to open ? Reason came at
times and whispered how foolish it was that I
should stake my whole life and soul upon one of
whom I really knew nothing. Then came a wave
of passion once more and reason was submerged.

I have spoken of the closed doors of her life.
I was aware that a young, unmarried French-
woman has usually less liberty than her English
sister. And yet in the case of this lady it
continually came out in her conversation that
she had seen and known much of the world.
It was the more distressing to me as whenever
she had made an observation which pointed to
this she would afterwards, as I could plainlyTHE PRISONER'S DEFENCE 191

Bee, be annoyed by her own indiscretion, and
endeavour to remove tlie impression by every
means in her power. We had several small
quarrels on this account, when I asked questions
to which I could get no answers, but they have
been exaggerated in the address for the prosecu-
tion. Too much has been made also of the
intervention of Mrs. Murreyfield, though I admit
that the quarrel was more serious upon that
occasion. It arose from my finding the photo-
graph of a man upon her table, and her evident
confusion when I asked her for some particulars
about him. The name " H. Vardin" was
written underneath—evidently an autograph.
I was worried by the fact that this photograph
had the frayed appearance of one which has been
carried secretly about, as a girl might conceal
the picture of her lover in her dress. She abso-
lutely refused to give me any information about
him, save to make a statement which I found
incredible, that it was a man whom she had
never seen in her life. It was then that I forgot
myself. I raised my voice and declared that I
should know more about her life or that I
should break with her, even if my own heart
should be broken in the parting. I was not
violent, but Mrs. Murreyfield heard me from
the passage, and came into the room to remon-
strate. She was a kind, motherly person who
took a sympathetic interest in our romance,192 THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

and I remember that on this occasion she re-
proved me for my jealousy and finally persuaded
me that I had been unreasonable, so that we
became reconciled once more. Ena was so
madly fascinating and I so hopelessly her slave
that she could always draw me back, however
much prudence and reason warned me to escape
from her control. I tried again and again to
find out about this man Vardin, but was always
met by the same assurance, which she repeated
with every kind of solemn oath, that she had
never seen the man in her life. Why she should
carry about the photograph of a man—a young,
somewhat sinister man, for I had observed him
closely before she snatched the picture from my
hand—was what she either could not, or would
not, explain.

Then came the time for my leaving Rad-
church. I had been appointed to a junior but
very responsible post at the War Office, which,
of course, entailed my living in London. Even
my week-ends found me engrossed with my
work, but at last I had a few days' leave of
absence. It is those few days which have ruined
my life, which have brought me the most hor-
rible experience that ever a man had to undergo,
and have finally placed me here in the dock,
pleading as I plead to-day for my life and my
honour.

It is nearly five miles from the station toTHE PRISONER'S DEFENCE 193

Radchurch. She was there to meet me. It
was the first time that we had been reunited
since I had put all my heart and my soul upon
her. I cannot enlarge upon these matters, gen-
tlemen. You will either be able to sympathize
with and understand the emotions which over-
balance a man at such a time, or you will not.
If you have imagination, you will. If T7ou have
not, I can never hope to make you see more
than the bare fact. That bare fact, placed in
the baldest language, is that during this drive
from Radchurch Junction to the village I was
led into the greatest indiscretion—the greatest
dishonour, if you will—of my life. I told the
woman a secret, an enormously important secret,
which might affect the fate of the war and the
lives of many thousands of men.

It was done before I knew it—before I grasped
the way in which her quick brain could place
various scattered hints together and weave
them into one idea. She was wailing, almost
weeping, over the fact that the allied armies
were held up by the iron line of the Germans.
I explained that it was more correct to say that
our iron line was holding them up, since they
were the invaders. " But is France, is Belgium,
never to be rid of them ? " she cried. " Are we
simply to sit in front of their trenches and be
content to let them do what they will with
ten provinces of France? Oh, Jack, Jack,194 THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

for God's sake, say something to bring a little
hope to my heart, for sometimes I think that
it is breaking! You English are stolid. You
can bear these things. But we others, we have
more nerve, more soul! It is death to us. Tell
me! Do tell me that there is hope! And yet
it is foolish of me to ask, for, of course, you are
only a subordinate at the War Office, and how
should you know what is in the mind of your
chiefs ? "

" Well, as it happens, I know a good deal,"
I answered. " Don't fret, for we shall certainly
get a move on soon."

" Soon! Next year may seem soon to some
people."

" It's not next year."

" Must we wait another month ? "

"Not even that."

She squeezed my hand in hers. " Oh, my
darling boy, you have brought such joy to my
heart! What suspense I shall live in now! I
think a week of it would kill me."

Well, perhaps it won't even be a week."

" And tell me," she went on, in her coaxing
voice, " tell me just one thing, Jack. Just one,
and I will trouble you no more. Is it our brave
French soldiers who advance ? Or is it your
splendid Tommies ? With whom will the honour
lie? "

" With both."THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE 195

" Glorious! " slie cried. " I see it all. The
attack will be at the point where the French
and British lines join. Together they will rush
forward in one glorious advance."

"No," I said. " They will not be together."

"But I understood you to say—of course,
women know nothing of such matters, but I
understood you to say that it would be a joint
advance."

" Well, if the French advanced, we will say,
at Verdun, and the British advanced at Ypres,
even if they were hundreds of miles apart it
would still be a joint advance."

"Ah, I see," she cried, clapping her hands
with delight. " They would advance at both
ends of the line, so that the Boches would not
know which way to send their reserves."

" That is exactly the idea—a real advance
at Verdun, and an enormous feint at Ypres."

Then suddenly a chill of doubt seized me. I
can remember how I sprang back from her and
looked hard into her face. " I've told you too
much! " I cried. " Can I trust you ? I have
been mad to say so much."

She was bitterly hurt by my words. That
I should for a moment doubt her was more than
she could bear. " I would cut my tongue out,
Jack, before I would tell any human being one
word of what you have said." So earnest was
she that my fears died away. I felt that I could196 THE PRISONERS' DEFENCE

trust her utterly. Before we had reached Rad-
church I had put the matter from my mind, and
we were lost in our joy of the present and in
our plans for the future.

I had a business message to deliver to Colonel
Worral, who commanded a small camp at
Pedley-Woodrow. I went there and was away
for about two hours. When I returned I inquired
for Miss Garnier, and was told by the maid
that she had gone to her bedroom, and that she
had asked the groom to bring her motor-bicycle
to the door. It seemed to me strange that she
should arrange to go out alone when my visit
was such a short one. I had gone into her
little study to seek her, and here it was that I
waited, for it opened on to the hall passage,
and she could not pass without my seeing her.

There was a small table in the window of
this room at which she used to write. I had
seated myself beside this when my eyes fell
upon a name written in her large, bold hand-
writing. It was a reversed impression upon the
blotting-paper which she had used, but there
could be no difficulty in reading it. The name
was Hubert Vardin. Apparently it was part of
the address of an envelope, for underneath I was
able to distinguish the initials S.W., referring to a
postal division of London, though the actual name
of the street had not been clearly reproduced.

Then I knew for the first time that she wasTHE PRISONER'S DEFENCE 197

actually corresponding with, this man whose
vile, voluptuous face I had seen in the photo-
graph with the frayed edges. She had clearly
lied to me, too, for was it conceivable that she
should correspond with a man whom she had
never seen? I don't desire to condone my
conduct. Put yourself in my place. Imagine
that you had my desperately fervid and jealous
nature. You would have done what I did, for
you could have done nothing else. A wave of
fury passed over me. I laid my hands upon the
wooden writing-desk. If it had been an iron
safe I should have opened it. As it was, it
literally flew to pieces before me. There lay the
letter itself, placed under lock and key for
safety, while the writer prepared to take it
from the house. I had no hesitation or scruple.
I tore it open. Dishonourable, you will say,
but when a man is frenzied with jealousy he
hardly knows what he does. This woman, for
whom I was ready to give everything, was either
faithful to me or she was not. At any cost I
would know which.

A thrill of joy passed through me as my eyes
fell upon the first words. I had wronged her.
" Cher Monsieur Vardin." Bo the letter began.
It was clearly a business letter, nothing else. I
was about to replace it in the envelope with a
thousand regrets in my mind for my want of
faith when a single word at the bottom of the198 THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

page caught my eyes, and I started as if I had
been stung by an adder. " Verdun "—that was
the word. I looked again. " Ypres" was im-
mediately below it. I sat down, horror-stricken,
by the broken desk, and I read this letter, a
translation of which I have in my hand:—

Murreyfield House, Hadchurch.

Dear M. Vardin,—Stringer has told me that
he has kept you sufficiently informed as to
Chelmsford and Colchester, so I have not troubled
to write. They have moved the Midland Terri-
torial Brigade and the heavy guns towards the
coast near Cromer, but only for a time. It is
for training, not embarkation.

And now for my great news, which I have
straight from the War Office itself. Within a
week there is to be a very severe attack from
Verdun, which is to be supported by a holding
attack at Ypres. It is all on a very large scale,
and you must send off a special Dutch messenger
to Von Starmer by the first boat. I hope to
get the exact date and some further particulars
from my informant to-night, but meanwhile you
must act with energ)

I dare not post this here—you know what
village postmasters are, so I am taking it into
Colchester, where Stringer will include it with
his own report which goes by hand.—Yours
faithfully, Sophia Heefner.

I was stunned at first as I read this letter,
and then a kind of cold, concentrated rage came
over me. So this woman was a German and aTHE PRISONER'S DEFENCE 199

spy! I thought of her hypocrisy and her
treachery towards me, but, above all, I thought
of the danger to the Army and the State. A
great defeat, the death of thousands of men,
might spring from my misplaced confidence.
There was still time, by judgment and energy,
to stop this frightful evil. I heard her step
upon the stairs outside, and an instant later she
had come through the doorway. She started,
and her face was bloodless as she saw me seated
there with the open letter in my hand.

" How did you get that 1" she gasped. " How
dared you break my desk and steal my letter ?"

I said nothing. I simply sat and looked at
her and pondered what I should do. She sud-
denly sprang forward and tried to snatch the
letter. I caught her wrist and pushed her down
on to the sofa, where she lay, collapsed. Then
I rang the bell, and told the maid that I must
see Mr. Murreyfield at once.

He was a genial, elderly man, who had treated
this woman with as much kindness as if she
were his daughter. He was horrified at what I
said. 1 could not show him the letter on account
of the secret that it contained, but I made him
understand that it was of desperate importance.

" What are we to do ? " he asked. " I never
could have imagined anything so dreadful.
What would you advise us to do ? "

" There is only one thing that we can do,"
14200 THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

I answered. " This woman must be arrested,
and in the meanwhile we must so arrange
matters that she cannot possibly communicate
with any one. For all we know, she has con-
federates in this very village. Can you under-
take to hold her securely while I go to Colonel
W orral at Pedley and get a warrant and a guard %"

" We can lock her in her bedroom."

" You need not trouble," said she. " I give
you my word that I will stay where I am. I
advise you to be careful, Captain Fowler. You've
shown once before that you are liable to do
things before you have thought of the conse-
quence. If I am arrested all the world will
know that you have given away the secrets that
were confided to you. There is an end of your
career, my friend. You can punish me, no
doubt. What about yourself ? "

" I think," said I, " you had best take her
to her bedroom."

" Very good, if you wish it," said she, and
followed us to the door. When we reached the
hall she suddenly broke away, dashed through
the entrance, and made for her motor-bicycle,
which was standing there. Before she could
start we had both seized her. She stooped and
made her teeth meet in Murreyfield's hand.
With flashing eyes and tearing fingers she was
as fierce as a wild cat at bay. It was with some
difficulty that we mastered her, and dragged herTHE PRISONER'S DEFENCE 201

—almost carried her—up the stairs. We thrust
her into her room and turned the key, while she
screamed out abuse and beat upon the door inside.
„ " It's a forty-foot drop into the garden," said
Murreyfield, tying up his bleeding hand. " I'll
wait here till you come back. I think we have
the lady fairly safe."

"I have a revolver here," said I. "You
should be armed." I slipped a couple of car-
tridges into it and held it out to him. "We
can't afford to take chances. How do you know
what friends she may have ? "

" Thank you," said he. " I have a stick
here, and the gardener is within call. Do you
hurry off for the guard, and 1 will answer for
the prisoner."

Having taken, as it seemed to me, every pos-
sible precaution, I ran to give the alarm. It
was two miles to Pedley, and the colonel was
out, which occasioned some delay. Then there
were formalities and a'magistrate's signature to
be obtained. A policeman was to serve the
warrant, but a military escort was to be sent
in to bring back the prisoner. I was so filled
with anxiety and impatience that I could not
wait, but I hurried back alone with the promise
that they would follow.

The Pedley-Woodrow Eoad opens into the
high-road to Colchester at a point about half a
mile from the village of Kadchurch. It was202 THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE

evening now and the light was such that one
could not see more than twenty or thirty yards
ahead. I had proceeded only a very short way
from the point of junction when 1 heard, com-
ing towards me, the roar of a motor-cycle being
ridden at a furious pace. It was without lights,
and close upon me. I sprang aside in order to
avoid being ridden down, and in that instant,
as the machine flashed by, I saw clearly the
face of the rider. It was she—the woman
whom I had loved. She was hatless, her hair
streaming in the wind, her face glimmering white
in the twilight, flying through the night like
one of the Valkyries of her native land. She
was past me like a flash and tore on down the
Colchester Koad. In that instant I saw all
that it would mean if she could reach the town.
If she once was allowed to see her agent we might
arrest him or her, but it would be too late.
The news would have been passed on. The vic-
tory of the Allies and the lives of thousands of
our soldiers were at stake. Next instant I had
pulled out the loaded revolver and fired two shots
after the vanishing figure, already only a dark
blur in the dusk. I heard a scream, the crash-
ing of the breaking cycle, and all was still.

I need not tell you more, gentlemen. You
know the rest. When I ran forward I found her
lying in the ditch. Both of my bullets had
struck her. One of them had penetrated herTHE PRISONER'S DEFENCE 203

brain. 1 was still standing beside her body when
Murreyfield arrived, running breathlessly down
the road. She had, it seemed, with great cour-
age and activity scrambled down the ivy of the
wall; only when he heard the whirr of the
cycle did he realize what had occurred. He was
explaining it to my dazed brain when the police
and soldiers arrived to arrest her. By the irony
of fate it was me whom they arrested instead.

It was urged at the trial in the police-court
that jealousy was the cause of the crime. I did
not deny it, nor did I put forward any witnesses
to deny it. It was my desire that they should
believe it. The hour of the French advance
had not yet come, and I could not defend my-
self without producing the letter which would
reveal it. But now it is over—gloriously over—
and so my lips are unsealed at last. I confess my
fault—my very grievous fault. But it is not that
for which you are trying me. It is for murder.
I should have thought myself the murderer of
my own countrymen if I had let the woman pass.

These are the facts, gentlemen. I leave my
future in your hands. If you should absolve me
I may say that I have hopes of serving my
country in a fashion which will atone for this
one great indiscretion, and will also, as I hope,
end for ever those terrible recollections which
weigh me down. If you condemn me, I am ready
to face whatever you may think fit to inflict.X

THREE OF THEM

I—A Chat about Children, Snakes, and
Zebus

These little sketches are called " Three of

Them," but there are really five, on and off the

stage. There is Daddy, a lumpish person with

some gift for playing Indian games when he is

in the mood. He is then known as " The Great

Chief of the Leatherskin Tribe." Then there is

my Lady Sunshine. These are the grown-ups,

and don't really count. There remain the three,

who need some differentiating upon paper, though

their little spirits are as different in reality as

spirits could be—all beautiful and all quite

diff erent. The eldest is a boy of eight whom we

shall call " Laddie." If ever there was a little

cavalier sent down ready-made it is he. His soul

is the most gallant, unselfish, innocent thing that

ever God sent out to get an extra polish upon

earth. It dwells in a tall, slight, well-formed

body, graceful and agile, with a head and face

as clean-cut as if an old Greek cameo had come

to life, and a pair of innocent and yet wise grey

204THREE OF THEM

205

eyes that read and win the heart. He is shy and
does not shine before strangers. I have said that
he is unselfish and brave. When there is the
usual wrangle about going to bed, up he gets in
his sedate way. " I will go first," says he, and
off he goes, the eldest, that the others may have
the few extra minutes while he is in his bath. As
to his courage, he is absolutely lion-hearted
where he can help or defend any one else. On one
occasion Daddy lost his temper with Dimples
(Boy ^umber 2), and, not without very good
provocation, gave him a tap on the side of the
head. Next instant he felt a butt down some-
where in the region of his waist-belt, and there
was an angry little red face lookiflg up at him,
which turned suddenly to a brown mop of hair as
the butt was repeated. No one, not even Daddy,
should hit his little brother. Such was Laddie,
the gentle and the fearless.

Then there is Dimples. Dimples is nearly
seven, and you never saw a rounder, softer,
dimplier face, with two great roguish, mis-
chievous eyes of wood-pigeon grey, which are
sparkling with fun for the most part, though they
can look sad and solemn enough at times.
Dimples has the making of a big man in him.
He has depth and reserves in his tiny soul. But
on the surface he is a boy of boys, always in
innocent mischief. " I will now do mischufi," he
occasionally announces, and is usually as good as206	THREE OF THEM

his word. He has a love and understanding of
all living creatures, the uglier and more slimy
the better, treating them all in a tender, fairylike
fashion which seems to come from some inner
knowledge. He has b een found holding a butter-
cup under the mouth of a slug " to see if he
likes butter." He finds creatures in an
astonishing way. Put him in the fairest garden,
and presently he will approach you with a
newt, a toad, or a huge snail in his custody.
Nothing would ever induce him to hurt them,
but he gives them what he imagines to be a little
treat and then restores them to their homes.
He has been known to speak bitterly to the Lady
when she has given orders that caterpillars be
killed if found upon the cabbages, and even the
explanation that the caterpillars were doing the
work of what he calls " the Jarmans" did not
reconcile him to their fate.

He has an advantage over Laddie, in that he
suffers from no trace of shyness and is perfectly
friendly in an instant with any one of every class
of life, plunging straight into conversation with
"Borne such remark as " Can your Daddy give a
war-whoop or " Were you ever chased by
a bear ? " He is a sunny creature but combative
sometimes, when he draws down his brows, sets
his eyes, his chubby cheeks flush, and his lips
go back from his almond-white teeth. " I am
Swankie the Berserker/' says he, quoting out ofTHREE OF THEM	207

his favourite " Erling the Bold," which Daddy
reads aloud at bed-time. When he is in this
fighting mood he can even drive back Laddie,
chiefly because the elder is far too chivalrous to
hurt him. If you want to see what Laddie
can really do, put the small gloves on him and
let him go for Daddy. Some of those hurricane
rallies of his would stop Daddy grinning if they
could get home, and he has to fall back off his
stool in order to get away from them.

If that latent power of Dimples should ever
come out, how will it be manifest ? Surely in his
imagination. Tell him a story and the boy is
lost. He sits with his little round, rosy face
immovable and fixed, while his eyes never budge
from those of the speaker. He sucks in every-
thing that is weird or adventurous or wild.
Laddie is a rather restless soul, eager to be up and
doing; but Dimples is absorbed in the present
if there be something worth hearing to be heard.
In height he is half a head shorter than his
brother, but rather more sturdy in build. The
power of his voice is one of his noticeable charac-
teristics. If Dimples is coming you know it
well in advance. With that physical gift upon
the top of his audacity, and his loquacity, he fairly
takes command of any place in which he may find
himself, while Laddie, his soul too noble for
jealousy, becomes one of the laughing and
admiring audience.208	THREE OF THEM

Then there is Baby, a dainty elfin Dresden-
china little creature of five, as fair as an angel
and as deep as a well. The boys are but shallow,
sparkling pools compared with this little girl with
her self-repression and dainty aloofness. You
know the boys, you never feel that you quite
know the girl. Something very strong and
forceful seems to be at the back of that wee body.
Her will is tremendous. Nothing can break or
even bend it. Only kind guidance and friendly
reasoning can mould it. The boys are helpless
if she has really made up her mind. But this is
only when she asserts herself, and those are rare
occasions. As a rule she sits quiet, aloof, affable,
keenly alive to all that passes and yet taking no
part in it save for some subtle smile or glance.
And then suddenly the wonderful grey-blue
eyes under the long black lashes will gleam like
coy diamonds, and such a hearty little chuckle
will come from her that every one else is bound
to laugh out of sympathy. She and Dimples
are great allies and yet have continual lovers'
quarrels. One night she would not feven include

his name in her prayers. " God bless-"

every one else, but not a word of Dimples.
" Come, come, darling! " urged the Lady.
" Well, then, God bless horrid Dimples!" said she
at last, after she had named the cat, the goat,
her dolls, and her Wriggly.

That is a strange trait, the love for the Wriggly,THREE OF THEM	209

It would repay thought from some scientific
brain. It is an old, faded, disused downy from
her cot. Yet go where she will, she must take
Wriggly with her. All her toys put together
would not console her for the absence of Wriggly.
If the family go to the seaside, Wriggly must
come too. She will not sleep without the absurd
bundle in her arms. If she goes to a party she
insists upon dragging its disreputable folds along
with her, one end always projecting " to give it
fresh air." Every phase of childhood represents
to the philosopher something in the history of the
race. From the new-born baby which can hang
easily by one hand from a broomstick with its
legs drawn up under it, the whole evolution of
mankind is re-enacted. You can trace clearly
the cave-dweller, the hunter, the scout. What,
then, does Wri'ggly represent ? Fetish worship—
nothing else. The savage chooses some most
unlikely thing and adores it. This dear little
savage adores her Wriggly.

So now we have our three little figures drawn
as clearly as a clumsy pen can follow such subtle
elusive creatures of mood and fancy. We will
suppose now that it is a summer evening, that
Daddy is seated smoking in his chair, that the
Lady is listening somewhere near, and that the
three are in a tumbled heap upon the bear-skin
before the empty fireplace trying to puzzle out
the little problems of their tiny lives. When210	THREE OF THEM

three children play with a new thought it is like
three kittens with a ball, one giving it a pat and
another a pat, as they chase it from point to
point. Daddy would interfere as little as possible,
save when he was called upon to explain or to
deny. It was usually wiser for him to pretend
to be doing something else. Then their talk was
the more natural. On this occasion, however,
he was directly appealed to.

" Daddy ! " asked Dimples.

"Yes, boy."

" Do you fink that the roses know us ? "
Dimples, in spite of his impish naughtiness,
had a way of looking such a perfectly innocent
and delightfully kissable little person that one
felt he really might be a good deal nearer to the
sweet secrets of Nature than his elders. How-
ever, Daddy was in a material mood.

" No, boy ; how could the roses know us ? "
" The big yellow rose at the corner of the gate
knows me."

" How do you know that % "

" 'Cause it nodded to me yesterday."

Laddie roared with laughter.

" That was just the wind, Dimples."

" No, it was not," said Dimples, with convic-
tion. " There was none wind. Baby was there.
Weren't you, Baby % "

" The wose knew us," said Baby, gravely.
" Beasts know us," said Laddie. " But thenTHREE OF THEM	211

beasts run round and make noises. Roses don't
make noises;"

" Yes, they do. They rustle."

" Woses wustle," said Baby.

" That's not a living noise. That's an all-the-
same noise. Different to Roy, who barks and
makes different noises all the time. Fancy the
roses all barkin' at you. Daddy, will you tell
us about animals ? "

That is one of the child stages which takes
us back to the old tribe life—their inexhaustible
interest in animals, some distant echo of those
long nights when wild men sat round the fires and
peered out into the darkness, and whispered about
all the strange and deadly creatures who fought
with them for the lordship of the earth. Children
love caves, and they love fires and meals out of
doors, and they love animal talk—all relics of
the far distant past.

" What is the biggest animal in South America,
Daddy ? "

Daddy, wearily : " Oh, I don't know."
" I s'pose an elephant would be the biggest ? "
" No, boy; there are none in South America."
" Well, then, a rhinoceros % "

" No, there are none."

" Well, what is there, Daddy ? "

" Well, dear, there are jaguars. I suppose
a jaguar is the biggest."

" Then it must be thirty-six feet long."212

THREE OF THEM

" Oh, no, boy; about eight or nine feet with
his tail."

" But there are boa-constrictors in South
America thirty-six feet long."

" That's different."

" Do you fink," asked Dimples, with his big,
solemn, grey eyes wide open, " there was ever a
boa-'strictor forty-five feet long ? "

" No, dear; I never heard of one."

" Perhaps there was one, but you never heard
of it. Do you fink you would have* heard of a
boa-'strictor forty-five feet long if there was one
in South America ? "

" Well, there may have been one."

" Daddy," said Laddie, carrying on the cross-
examination with the intense earnestness of a
child, " could a boa-constrictor swallow any
small animal ? "

" Yes, of course he could."

" Could he swallow a jaguar ? "

" Well, I don't know about that. A jaguar is
a very large animal."

" Well, then," asked Dimples, " could a jaguar
swallow a boa-'strictor ? "

" Silly ass," said Laddie. " If a jaguar was
only nine feet long and the boa-constrictor was
thirty-five feet long, then there would be a lot
sticking out of the jaguar's mouth. How could
he swallow that \ "

" He'd bite it off," said Dimples. " And thenTHREE OF THEM

213

another slice for supper and another for break-
fast—but, I say, Daddy, a 'stricter couldn't
swallow a porkpine, could he ? He would have
a sore throat all the way down."

Shrieks of laughter and a welcome rest for
Daddy, who turned to his paper.

" Daddy! "

He put down his paper with an air of conscious
virtue and lit his pipe.

" Well, dear ? "

" What's the biggest snake you ever saw ? "

" Oh, bother the snakes! I am tired of them."

But the children were never tired of them.
Heredity again, for the snake was the worst
enemy of arboreal man.

" Daddy made soup out of a snake," said
Laddie. " Tell us about that snake, Daddy."

Children like a story best the fourth or fifth
time, so it is never any use to tell them that they
know all about it. The story which they can
check and correct is their favourite.

" Well, dear; we got a viper and we killed it.
Then we wanted the skeleton to keep and we
didn't know how to get it. At first we thought
we would bury it, but that seemed too slow.
Then I had the idea to boil all the viper's flesh
off its bones, and I got an old meat-tin and we put
the viper and some water into it and put it above
the fire."

" You huiig it on a hook, Daddy."214	THREE OF THEM

" Yes, we hung it on the hook that they put
the porridge pot on in Scotland. Then just as
it was turning brown in came the farmer's wife,
and ran up to see what we were cooking. When
she saw the viper she thought we were going to
eat it. * Oh, you dirty divils!' she cried, and
caught up the tin in her apron and threw it
out of the window."

Fresh shrieks of laughter from the children,
and Dimples repeated " You dirty divil! " until
Daddy had to clump him playfully on the
head.

" Tell us some more about snakes," cried
Laddie. " Did you ever see a really dreadful
snake ? "

" One that would turn you black and dead you
in five minutes ? " said Dimples. It was always
the most awful thing that appealed to Dimples.

"Yes, I have seen some beastly creatures.
Once in the Sudan I was dozing on the sand when
1 opened my eyes and there was a horrid creature
like a big slug with horns, short and thick, about
a foot long, moving away in front of me."

" What was it, Daddy ? " Six eager eyes were
turned up to him,

" It was a death-adder. I expect that would
dead you in five minutes, Dimples, if it got a bite
at you."

" Did you kill it ? "

■ " No; it was gone before I could get to it."THREE OF THEM	215

" Which is the horridest, Daddy—a snake or
a shark % "

" I'm not very fond of either ! "

" Did you ever see a man eaten by sharks ? "
"No, dear, but I was not so far off being
eaten myself/'

" Oo ! " from all three of them.

" I did a silly thing, for I swam round the ship
in water where there are many sharks. As I was
drying myself on the deck I saw the high fin of a
shark above the water a little way off. It had
heard the splashing and come up to look for
me."

" Weren't you frightened, Daddy ? "
" Yes. It made me feel rather cold." There
was silence while Daddy saw once more the
golden sand of the African beach and the snow-
white roaring surf, with the long, smooth swell
of the bar.

Children don't like silences.

" Daddy," said Laddie., " Do zebus bite ? "
" Zebus! Why, they are cows. No, of course
not."

" But a zebu could butt with its horns."
" Oh, yes, it could butt."

" Do you think a zebu could fight a crocodile ?"
" Well, I should back the crocodile."
" Why ? "

" Well, dear, the crocodile has great teeth and
would eat the zebu."

15216	THREE OF THEM

" But suppose the zebu came up when the
crocodile was not looking and butted it."

" Well, that would be one up for the zebu.
But one butt wouldn't hurt a crocodile."

" No, one wouldn't, would it ? But the zebu
would keep on. Crocodiles live on sand-banks,
don't they ? Well, then, the zebu would come and
live near the sandbank too—just so far as the
crocodile would never see him. Then every time
the crocodile wasn't looking the zebu would butt
him. Don't you think he would beat the
crocodile ? "

" Well, perhaps he would."

" How long do you think it would take the
zebu to beat the crocodile ? "

" Well, it would depend upon how often he
got in his butt."

" Well, suppose he butted him once every three

hours, don't you think-? "

" Oh, bother the zebu! "

" That's what the crocodile would say," cried
Laddie, clapping his hands.

" Well, I agree with the crocodile," said Daddy.
" And it's time all good children were in bed,"
said the Lady as the glimmer of the nurse's
apron was seen in the gloom.

II—About Cricket

Supper was going on down below and all good
children should have been long ago in the landTHREE OF THEM	217

%■

of dreams. Yet a curious noise came from
above.

" What on earth-? " asked Daddy.

" Laddie practising cricket," said the Lady,
with the curious clairvoyance of motherhood.
" He gets out of bed. to bowl. I do wish
you would go up and speak seriously to him
about it, for it takes quite an hour off his
rest."

Daddy departed upon his mission intending
to be gruff, and my word, he can be quite gruff
when he likes ! When he reached the top of the
stairs, however, and heard the noise still con-
tinue, he walked softly down the landing and
peeped in through the half-opened door.

The room was dark save for a night-light. In
the dim glimmer he saw a little white-clad figure,
slight and supple, taking short steps and swinging
its arm in the middle of the room.

" Halloa ! " said Daddy.

The white-clad figure turned and ran forward
to him.

" Oh, Daddy, how jolly of you to come up ! "

Daddy felt that gruffness was not quite so easy
as it had seemed.

" Look here! You get into bed! " he said,
with the best imitation he could manage.

"Yes, Daddy. But before I go, how is this ? "
He sprang forward and the arm swung round
again in a swift and graceful gesture.218

THREE OF THEM

Daddy was a moth-eaten cricketer of sorts, and
he took it in with a critical eye.

" Good, Laddie. I like a high action. That's
the real SpofEorth swing."

" Oh, Daddy, come and talk about cricket! "
He was pulled on the side of the bed, and the
white figure dived between the sheets.

"Yes; tell us about ->cwicket! " came a
cooing voice from the corner. Dimples wag
sitting up in his cot.

" You naughty boy! I thought one of you
was asleep, anyhow. I mustn't stay. I keep
you awake."

" Who was PopofE ? " cried Laddie, clutch-
ing at his father's sleeve. " Was he a very good
bowler ? "

" SpoHorth was the best bowler that ever
walked on to a cricket-field. He was the great
Australian Bowler and he taught us a great
deal."

" Did he ever kill a dog ? " from Dimples.

" No, boy. Why ? "

" Because Laddie said there was a bowler so
fast that his ball went frue a coat and killed a
dog."

" Oh, that's an old yarn. I heard that when
I was a little boy about some bowler whose name,
I think, was Jackson."

" Was it a big dog ? "

" No, no, son; it wasn't a dog at all."THREE OF THEM	219

" It was a cat/' said Dimples.

" No; I tell you it never happened."
" But tell us about Spofforth," cried Laddie.
Dimples, with. Ms imaginative mind, usually
wandered, while the elder came eagerly back to
the point. "Was he very fast ? "

" He could be very fast. I have heard
cricketers who had played against him say that
his yorker-^that is a ball which is just short of a
full pitch—was the fastest hall in England. I
have myself seen his long arm swing round and
the wicket go down before ever the batsman had
time to ground his bat."

" Oo! " from both beds.

"He was a tall, thin man, and they called
him the Fiend. That means the Devil, you
know."

" And teas he the Devil ? "

" No, Dimples, no. They called him that
because he did such wonderful things with the
ball."

"Can the Devil do wonderful things with a
ball ? " •

Daddy felt that he was propagating devil-
worship and hastened to get to safer ground.

" Spofforth taught us how to bowl and Black-
ham taught us how to keep wicket. "When I
was young we always had another fielder, called
the long-stop, who stood behind the wicket-
keeper. I used to be a thick, solid boy, bo220

THREE OF THEM

they put me as long-stop, and the balls used to
bounce off me, I remember, as if I had been a
mattress." -

Delighted laughter.

" But after Blackham came wicket-keepers
had to learn that they were there to stop the ball.
Even in good second-class cricket there were no
more long-stops. We soon found plenty of good
wicket-keeps—like Alfred Lyttelton and Mac-
Gregor—but it was Blackham who showed us
how. To see BpofEorth, all india-rubber and
ginger, at one end bowling, and Blackham, with
his black beard over the bails waiting for the ball
at the other end, was worth living for, I can tell
you."

Silence while the boys pondered over this.
But Laddie feared Daddy would go, so he quickly
got in a question. If Daddy's memory could
only be kept going there was no saying how long
they might keep him.

" Was there no good bowler until Spofforth
came ? "

" Oh, plenty, my boy. But he brought some-
thing new with him. Especially change of pace
—you could never tell by his action up to the last
moment whether you were going to get a ball
like a flash of lightning, or one that came slow
but full of devil and spin. But for mere com-
mand of the pitch of a ball I should think Alfred
Shaw, of Nottingham, was tlie greatest bowlerTHREE OF" THEM

221

I can remember. It was said that lie could
pitch a ball twice in three times upon a half-
crown ! "

" Oo ! " And then from Dimple^:—

" Whose half-crown ? "

" Well, anybody's half-crown."

" Did he get the half-crown ? "

" No, no ; why should he ? "

" Because he put the ball on it."
" The half-crown was kept there always for
people to aim at," explained Laddie.

" No, no, there never was a half-crown."
Murmurs of remonstrance from both boys.
" I only meant'that he could pitch the ball on
anything—a half-crown or anything else."

" Daddy," with the energy of one who has a
happy idea, " could he have pitched it on the
batsman's toe ? "

" Yes, boy, I think so."

" Well, then, suppose he always pitched it on
the batsman's toe! "

Daddy laughed.

" Perhaps that is why dear old W. G. always
stood with his left toe cocked up in the air."
"On one leg?"

"No, no, Dimples. With his heel down
and his toe up."

" Did you know W. G., Daddy ? "

" Oh, yes, I knew him quite well."

" Was he nice ? "222

THREE OF THEM

" Yes, he was splendid. He was always like
a great jolly schoolboy who was hiding behind
a huge black beard."

" Whose beard ? "

" I meant that he had a great bushy beard.
He looked like the pirate chief in your picture-
books, but he had as kind a heart as a child.
I have been told that it was the terrible things
in this war that really killed him. Grand old
W. G.! "

" Was he the best bat in the world, Daddy ? "

" Of course he was," said Daddy, beginning
to enthuse to the delight of the clever little
plotter in the bed. " There never was such a
bat—never in the world—and I don't believe
there ever could be again. He didn't play on
smooth wickets, as they do now. He played
where the wickets were all patchy, and you had
to watch the ball right on to the bat. You
couldn't look at it before it hit the ground and
think,' That's all right. I know where that one
will be t' My word, that was cricket. What
you got you earned."

"Did you ever see W. G. make a hundred,
Daddy ? "

"See him ! I've fielded out for him and melted
on a hot August day while he made a hundred
and fifty. There's a pound or two of your
Daddy somewhere on that field yet. But I loved
to see it, and I was always sorry when he got outTHREE OF THEM

223

for nothing, even if I were playing against
him."

" Did lie ever get out for notliing ? "
"Yes, dear; the first time I ever played in
his company he was given out leg-before-wicket
before he made a- run. And all the way to the
pavilion—that's where people go when they are
out—he was walking forward, but his big black
beard was backward over his shoulder as he told
the umpire what he thought."

" And what did he think ? "

" More than I can tell you, Dimples. But
I dare say he was right to be annoyed, for it was
a left-handed bowler, bowling round the wicket,
and it is very hard to get leg-before to that.
However, that's all Greek to you."

" What's Gweek 1 "

" Well, I mean you can't understand that.
Now I am going."

" No, no, Daddy; wait a moment! Tell us
about Bonner and the big catch."

" Oh, you know about that! "

Two little coaxing voices came out of the
darkness.

" Oh, please! Please! "

" I don't know what your mother will say!
What was it you asked ? "

"Bonner!"

" Ah, Bonner! " Daddy looked out in the
gloom and saw green fields and golden sunlight,224

THREE OP THEM

and great sportsmen long gone to their rest.
" Bonner was a wonderful man. He was a giant
in size."

" As big as you, Daddy % "

Daddy seized his elder boy and shook him
playfully. " I heard what you said to Miss
Cregan the other day. When she asked you what
an acre was you said' About the size of Daddy.'"
Both boys gurgled.

" But Bonner was five inches taller than I.
He was a giant, I tell you."

" Did nobody kill him ? "

"No, no, Dimples. Not a story-book giant.
But a great, strong man. He had a splendid
figure and blue eyes and a golden beard, and
altogether he was the finest man I have ever
seen—except perhaps one."

" Who was the one, Daddy ? "

" Well, it was the Emperor Frederick of
Germany."

" A Jarman! " cried Dimples, in horror.
" Yes, a German. Mind you, boys, a man may
be a very noble man and be a German—though
what has become of the noble ones these last three
years is more than I can guess. But Frederick was
noble and good, as you could see on his face. How
he ever came to be the father of such a blasphe-
mous braggart"—Daddy sank into reverie.

" Bonner, Daddy ! " said Laddie, and Daddy
came back from politics with a start.THREE OF THEM	225

" Oh, yes, Bonner. Bonner in white flannels
on the green sward with an English June sun
upon him. That was a picture of a man! But
you asked me about the catch. It was in a test
match at the Oval—England against Australia.
Bonner said before he went in that he would hit
Alfred Shaw into the next county, and he set
out to do it. Shaw, as I have told you, could
keep a very good length, so for some time Bonner
could not get the ball he wanted, but at last he
saw his chance, and he jumped out and hit that
ball the most awful ker-wallop that ever was
seen in a cricket-field."

" Oo! " from both boys: and then, " Did it go
into the next county, Daddy ? " from Dimples.

" Well, I'm telling you I " said Daddy, who
was always testy when one of his stories was
interrupted. " Bonner thought he had made the
ball a half-volley—that is the best ball to hit—
but Shaw had deceived him and the ball was really
on the short side. So when Bonner hit it, up
and up it went, until it looked as if it were going
out of sight into the sky."

"Oo!"

" At first everybody thought it was going far
outside the ground. But soon they saw that all
the giant's strength had been wasted in hitting
the ball so high, and that there was a chance that
it would fall within the ropes. The batsmen had
run three runs and it was still in the air. Then it226

THREE OF THEM

was seen that an English fielder was standing on
the very edge of the field with his back on the
ropes, a white figure against the black line of the
people. He stood watching the mighty curve of
the ball, and twice he raised his hands together
above his head as he did so. Then a third time
he raised his hands above his head, and the ball
was in them and Bonner was out."

" Why did he raise his hands twice ? "
" I don't know. He did so." >

" And who was the fielder, Daddy ? "
" The fielder was G. F. Grace, the younger
brother of W. G. Only a few months afterwards
he was a dead man. But he had one grand
moment in his life, with twenty thousand people
all just mad with excitement. Poor G. F.!
He died too soon."

" Did you ever catch a catch like that, Daddy ?"
" No, boy. I was never a particularly good
fielder."

" Did you never catch a good catch ? "

" Well, I won't say that. You see, the best
catches are very often flukes, and I remember one
awful fluke of that sort."

" Do tell us, Daddy ? "

" Well, dear, I was fielding at slip. That is very
near the wicket, you know. Woodcock was
bowling, and he had the name of being the fastest
bowler of England at that time. It was just
the beginning of the match and the ball was quiteTHREE OF THEM

227

red. Suddenly I saw something like a red flash
and there was the ball stuck in my left hand.
I had not time to move it. It simply came and
stuck." *

" Oo!"

" I saw another catch like that. It was done
by Ulyett, a fine Yorkshire .player—such a big,
upstanding fellow. He was bowling, and the
batsman—it was an Australian in a test match—
hit as hard as ever he could. Ulyett could not
have seen it, but he just stuck out' his hand and
there was the ball."

" Suppose it had hit his body ? "

" Well, it would have hurt him."

" Would he have cried ? " from Dimples.
" No, boy. That is what games are for, to
teach you to take a knock and never show it.

Supposing that--"

A step was heard coming along the passage.
" Good gracious, boys, here's Mumty. Shut
your eyes this moment. It's all right, dear.
I spoke to them very severely and I think they
are nearly asleep."

" What have you been talking about 1 " asked
the Lady.

" Cwicket! " cried Dimples.

" It's natural enough," said Daddy; " of

course when two boys-"

" Three," said the Lady, as she tucked up the
little beds.228

THREE OF THEM

III—Speculations

The three children were sitting together In
a bunch upon the rug in the gloaming. Baby
was talking so Daddy behind his newspaper
pricked up his ears, for the young lady was silent
as a rule, and every glimpse of her little mind
was of interest. She was nursing the disreput-
able little downy quilt Mrhich she called Wriggly
and much preferred to any of her dolls.

" I wonder if they will let Wriggly into
heaven," «he said.

The boys laughed. They generally laughed
at what Baby said.

" If they won't I won't go in, either," she
added.

"Nor me, neither, if they don't let in my
Teddy-bear," said Dimples.

" I'll tell them it is a nice, clean, blue Wriggly,"
said Baby. " I love my Wriggly." She cooed
over it and hugged it.

" What about that, Daddy ? " asked Laddie,
in his earnest fashion. _ " Are there toys in
heaven, do you think ? "

" Of course there are. Everything that can
make children happy."

" As many toys as in Hamley's shop ? " asked
Dimples.

" More," said Daddy, stoutly.

" Oo ! " from all three.THREE OF THEM

229

" Daddy, dear," said Laddie. " I've been
wondering about the deluge."

"Yes, dear. What was it ? "

" Well, the story about the Ark. All those
animals were in the Ark, just two of each, for
forty days. Wasn't that so ? "

" That is the story."

" Well, then, what did the carnivorous animals
eat ? "

One should be honest with children and not
put them off with ridiculous explanations. Their
questions" about such matters are generally
much more sensible than their parents' replies.

" Well, dear," said Daddy, weighing his words,
"these stories are very, very old.. The Jews
put them in the Bible, but they got them from
the people in Babylon, and the people in Babylon
probably got them from some one else away back
in the beginning of things. If a story gets passed
down like that, one person adds a little and
another adds a little, and so you never get things
quite as they happened. The Jews put it in the
Bible exactly as they heard it, but it had been
going about for thousands of years before then."
" So it was not true ? "

" Yes, I think it was true. I think there
was a great flood, and I think that some people
did escape, and that they saved their beasts,
just as we should try to save Nigger and the
Monkstown cocks and hens if we were flooded230

THREE OF THEM

out. Then they were able to start again when
the waters went down, and they were naturally
very grateful to God for their escape."

" What did the people who didn't escape
think about it ? "

" Well, we can't tell that."

" They wouldn't be very grateful,* would
they ? "

" Their time was come," said Daddy, who was
a bit of a Fatalist. " I expect it was the best
thing."

"It was jolly hard luck on Noah being swal-
lowed by a fish after all his trouble," saidDimples.

" Silly ass! It was Jonah that was swallowed.
Was it a whale, Daddy % "

"A whale! Why, a whale couldn't swallow
a herring! "

" A shark, then ? "

" Well, there again you have an old story
which has got twisted and turned a good deal.
No doubt he was a holy man who had some great
escape at sea, and then the sailors and others
who admired him invented this wonder."

" Daddy," said Dimples, suddenly, " should
we do just the same as Jesus did ? "

"Yes, dear; He was the noblest Person that
ever lived."

" Well, did Jesus lie down every day from
twelve to one ? "

" I don't know that He did."THREE OP THEM

231

" Well, then, I won't lie down from twelve
to one."

" If Jesus had been a growing boy and had
been ordered to lie down by His Mumty and the
doctor, I am sure He would have done so/'

" Did He take malt extract ? "

" He did what He was told, my son—I am sure
of that. He was a good man, so He must have
been a good boy—perfect in all He did."

" Baby saw God yesterday," remarked Laddie,
casually.

Daddy dropped his paper.

" Yes, we made up our minds we would all lie
on our backs and stare at the sky until we saw
God. So we put the big rug on the lawn and
then we all lay down side by side, and stared and
stared. I saw nothing, and Dimples saw nothing,
but Baby says she saw God."

Baby nodded in her wise way.

" I saw Him," she said.

" What was He like, then ? "

" Oh, just God."

She would say no more, but hugged her
Wriggly.

The Lady had entered and listened with some
trepidation to the frank audacity of the children's
views. Yet the very essence of faith was in
that audacity. It was all so unquestionably real.

" Which is strongest, Daddy, God or the
Devil? " It was Laddie who was speculating now.

16232

THREE OP THEM

" Why, God rules everything, of course."

" Then why doesn't He kill the Devil % "

" And scalp him ? " added Dimples.

" That would stop all trouble, wouldn't it,
Daddy ? "

Poor Daddy was rather floored. The Lady
came to his help.

" If everything was good and easy in this
world, then there would be nothing to fight
against, and so, Laddie, our characters would
never improve."

" It would be like a football match with all
the players on one side," said Daddy.

" If there was nothing bad, then, nothing
would be good, for you would have nothing to
compare by," added the Lady.

" Well, then," said Laddie, with the remorse-
less logic of childhood, " if that is so, then the
Devil is very useful; so he can't be so very bad,
after all."

" Well, I don't see that," Daddy answered.
" Our Army can only show how brave it is by
fighting the German Emperor, but that does
not prove that the German Emperor is a very
nice person, does it now ?

" Besides," Daddy continued, improving the
occasion, " you must not think of the Devil as
a person. You must think of all the mean
things one could do, and all the dirty things,
and all the cruel things, and that is really theTHREE OF THEM

233

Devil you are fighting against. You couldn't
call them useful, could you ? "

The children thought over this for a little.
" Daddy," said Laddie, " have you ever seen
God ? "

" No, my boy. But I see His works. I
expect that is as near as we can get in this world.
Look at all the stars at night, and think of the
Power that made them and keeps each in its
proper place."

" He couldn't keep the shooting stars in their
proper place," said Dimples.

" I expect He meant them to shoot," said
Laddie.

" Suppose they all shot, what jolly nights we
should have ! " cried Dimples.

"Yes," said Laddie; " but after one night
they would all have gone, and a nice thing then! "
" Well, there's always the moon," remarked
Dimples. " But, Daddy, is it true that God
listens to all we say ? "

" I don't know about that," Daddy answered,
cautiously. You never know into what trap
those quick little wits may lead you. The Lady
was more rash, or more orthodox.

" Yes, dear, He does hear all you say."
" Is He listenin' now ? "

" Yes, dear."

"Well, I call it vewy rude of Him ! "

Daddy smiled, and the Lady gasped.234	THREE OF THEM

" It isn't rude," said Laddie. " It is His
duty, and He has to notice what you are doing
and saying. Daddy, did you ever see a fairy 1 "
" No, boy."

" I saw one once."

Laddie is the very soul of truth, quite pain-
fully truthful in details, so that his quiet remark
caused attention.

" Tell us about it, dear."

He described it with as little emotion as if
it were a Persian cat. Perhaps his perfect faith
had indeed opened something to his vision.

" It was in the day nursery. There was. a
stool by the window. The fairy jumped on the
stool and then down, and went across the room."

% " What was it dressed like ? "

" All in grey, with a long cloak. It was about
as big as Baby's doll. I could not see its arms,
for they were under the cloak."

" Did he look at you ? "

" No, he was sideways, and I never really
saw his face. He had a little cap. That's the
only fairy I ever saw. Of course, there was
Father Christmas, if you call him a fairy."

" Daddy, was Father Christmas killed in the
war ? "

" No, boy."

" Because he has never come since the war
began. I expect he is fightin' the Jarmans."
It was Dimples who was talking.THREE OF THEM	235

" Last time he came," said Laddie, " Daddy
said one of his reindeers had hurt its leg in the
ruts of the Monkstown Lane. Perhaps that's
why he never comes."

" He'll come all right after the war," said
Daddy, " and he'll be redder and whiter and
jollier than ever." Then Daddy clouded sud-
denly, for he thought of all those who would be
missing when Father Christmas came again.
Ten loved ones were dead from that one house-
hold. The Lady put out her hand, for she
always knew what Daddy was thinking.

" They will be there in spirit, dear."

" Yes, and the joiliest of the lot," said Daddy,
stoutly. " We'll have our Father Christmas
back and all will be well in England."

" But what do they do in India ? " asked
Laddie.

" Why, what's wrong with them ? "

" How do the sledge and the reindeer get
across the sea ? All the parcels must get wet."

"Yes, dear, there have been -several com-
plaints," said Daddy, gravely. " Halloa, here's
nurse ! Time's up ! Ofl to bed! "

They got up resignedly, for they were really
very good children. " Bay your prayers here
before you go," said the Lady. The three little
figures all knelt on the rug, Baby still cuddling
her Wriggly.

" You pray, Laddie, and the rest can join ic."236	THBEE OF THEM

" God bless every one I love," said the high,
clear child-voice. " And make me a good boy,
and thank You so much for all the blessings of
to-day. And please take care of Alleyne, who
is fighting the Germans, and Uncle Cosmo, who
is fighting the Germans, and Uncle Woodie,
who is fighting the Germans, and all the others
who are fighting the Germans, and the men on
the ships on the sea, and Grandma and Grandpa,
and Uncle Pat, and don't ever let Daddy and
Mumty die. That's all."

" And please send plenty sugar for the poor
people," said Baby, in her unexpected way.

" And a little petrol for Daddy," said Dimples.

" Amen! " said Daddy. And the little figures
rose for the good-night kiss.

IV—The Leatherskin Tribe

" Daddy! " said the elder boy. " Have you
seen wild Indians ? "

" Yes, boy."

" Have you ever scalped one ? "

" Good gracious, no."

" Has one ever scalped you ? " asked Dimples.

" Silly ! " said Laddie. " If Daddy had been
scalped he wouldn't have all that hair on his
head—unless perhaps it grew again! "

" He has none hair on the very top," said
Dimples, hovering over the low chair in which
Daddy was sitting.THREE OF THEM

237

" They didn't scalp you, did they, Daddy ? "
asked Laddie, with some anxiety.

" I expect Nature will scalp me some of these
days."

Both boys were keenly interested. Nature
presented itself as some rival chief.

" When ? " asked Dimples, eagerly, with the
evident intention of being present.

Daddy passed his fingers ruefully through his
thinning locks. " Pretty soon, I expect," said he.

" Oo ! " said the three children. Laddie was
resentful and defiant, but the two younger ones
were obviously delighted^

" But I say, Daddy, you said we should have
an Indian game after tea. You said it when you
wanted us to be so quiet after breakfast. You
promised, you know."

It doesn't do to break a promise to children.
Daddy rose somewhat wearily from his comfort-
able chair and put his pipe on the mantelpiece.
First he held a conference in secret with Uncle
Pat, the most ingenious of playmates. Then
he returned to the childrep. " Collect the
tribe," said he. " There is a Council in a quarter
of an hour in the big room. Put on your Indian
dresses and arm yourselves. The great Chief
will be there ! "

Sure enough when he entered the big room a
quarter of an hour later the tribe of the Leather-
skins had assembled. There were four of them,238

THREE OF THEM

for little rosy Cousin John from next door always
caipe in for an Indian game. They had all
Indian dresses with high feathers and wooden
clubs or tomahawks. Daddy was in his usual
untidy tweeds, but carried a rifle. He was
very serious when he entered the room, for one
should be very serious in a real good Indian
game. Then he raised his rifle slowly over his
head in greeting and the four childish voices
rang out kuthe war-cry. It was a prolonged
wolfish howl which Dimples had been known
to offer to teach elderly ladies in hotel corridors.
"You can't be in our tribe without it, you know.
There is none body about. Now just try once
if you can do it." At this moment there are
half-a-dozen elderly people wandering about
England who have been made children once
more by Laddie and Dimples.

" Hail to the tribe! " cried Daddy.

" Hail, Chief! " answered the voices.

" Eed Buffalo! "

" Here ! " cried Laddie.

" Black Bear! "

" Here! " cried Dimples.

" White Butterfly ! "

" Go on, you silly squaw! " growled Dimples.

" Here," said Baby

" Prairie Wolf! "

" Here," said little four-year-old John.

" The muster is complete. Make a circleTHREE OF THEM

239

round the camp-fire and we stall drink the fire-
water of the Palefaces and smoke the pipe of
peace."

That was a fearsome joy. The fire-water
was ginger-ale drunk out of the bottle, which
was gravely passed from hand to hand. At
no other time had they ever drunk like that,
and it made an occasion of it which was increased
by the owlish gravity of Daddy. Then he lit
his pipe and it was passed also from one tiny
hand to another, Laddie taking a hearty suck
at it, which set him coughing, while Baby only
touched the end of the amber with her little
pink lips. There was dead silence until it had
gone round and returned to its owner.

" Warriors of the Leatherskins, why have
we come here? " asked Daddy, fingering his rifle.

" Humpty Dumpty/' said little John, and
the children all began to laugh, but the por-
tentous gravity of Daddy brought them back
to the warrior mood.

" The Prairie Wolf has spoken truly," said
Daddy. "A wicked Paleface called Humpty
Dumpty has taken the prairies which once
belonged to the Leatherskins and is now camped
upon them and hunting our buffaloes. What shall
be his fate ? Let each warrior speak in turn."

" Tell him he has jolly well got to clear out,"
said Laddie.

" That's not Indian talk," cried Dimples,240

THREE OF THEM

with all his soul'in the game. "Kill him,
great Chief—him and his squaw, too." The
two younger warriors merely laughed and little
John repeated " Humpty Dumpty ! "

" Quite right! Remember the villain's name !"
said Daddy. " Now, then, the whole tribe
follows me on the war-trail and we shall teach
this Paleface to shoot our buffaloes."

" Look here, we don't want squaws," cried
Dimples, as Baby toddled at the rear of the
procession. "You stay in the wigwam and cook."

A piteous cry greeted the suggestion.

" The White Butterfly will cofTie with us and
bind up the wounds," said Daddy.

" The squaws are jolly good as torturers,"
remarked Laddie.

" Really, Daddy, this strikes me as a most
immoral game," said the Lady, who had been a
sympathetic spectator from a corner, doubtful of
the ginger-ale, horrified at the pipe, and delighted
at the complete absorption of the children.

" Rather! " said the great Chief, with a sad
relapse into the normal. " I suppose that is
why they love it so. Now, then, warriors,
we go forth on the war-trail. One whoop all
together before we start. Capital! Follow
me, now, one behind the other. Not a sound!
If one gets ssparated from the others let him
give the cry .of a night owl and the others will
answer with the squeak of the prairie lizard."THREE OF THEM	241

" What sort of a squeak, please ? "

" Oh, any old squeak will do. You don't
walk. Indians trot on the war-path. If you
see any man hiding in a bush kill him at once,
but don't stop to scalp hirb.-"

" Really, dear! " from the corner.

" The great Queen would rather that you
scalp him. Now, then! All ready ! Start! "

Away went the line of figures, Daddy stooping
with his rifle at the trail, Laddie and Dimples
armed with axes and toy pistols, as tense and
serious as any Redskins could be. The other
two rather more irresponsible but very much
absorbed all the same. The little line of absurd
figures wound in and out of the furniture,
and out on to the lawn, and round the laurel
bushes, and into the yard, and back to the clump
of trees. There Daddy stopped and held up
his hand with a face that froze the children.

" Are all here ? " he asked.

" Yes, yes."

" Hush, warriors! No sound. There is an
enemy scout in the bushes ahead. Stay with
me, you two. You, Red Buffalo, and you,
Black Bear, crawl forward and settle him. See
that he makes no sound. What you do must
be quick and sudden. When all is clear give
the cry of the wood-pigeon, and we will join you."

The two warriors crawled off in most desperate
earnest. Daddy leaned on his gun and winked242	THREE OF THEM

at the Lady, who still hovered fearfully in the
background like a dear hen whose chickens were
doing wonderful and unaccountable things. The
two younger Indians slapped each other and
giggled. Presently there came the " coo" of
a wood-pigeon from in front. Daddy and the
tribe moved forward to where the advance
guard were waiting in the bushes.

" Great Chief, we could find no scout," said
Laddie.

" There was none person to kill," added
Dimples.

The Chief was not surprised, since the scout
had been entirely of his own invention. It
would not do to admit it, however.

" Have you found his trail ? " he asked.

"No, Chief."

"Let me look." Daddy hunted about with
a look of preternatural sagacity about him.
"Before the snows fell a man passed here with
a red head, grey clothes, and a squint in his
left eye. His trail shows that his brother has
a grocer's shop and his wife smokes cigarettes
on the sly."

" Oh, Daddy, how could you read all that ? "

" It's easy enough, my son, when you get
the knack of it. But look here, we are Indians
on the war-trail, and don't you forget it if you
value your scalp! Aha, here is Humpty Dumpty's
trail! "THREE OP THEM

243

Uncle Pat had laid down a paper trail from
this point, as Daddy well knew; so now the
children were off like a little pack of eager
harriers, following in and out among the bushes.
Presently they had a rest.

" Great Chief, why does a wicked Paleface
leave paper wherever he goes ? "

Daddy made a great effort.

" He tears up the wicked letters he has
written. Then he writes others even wickeder
and tears them up in turn. You can see for
yourself that he leaves them wherever he goes.
Now, warriors, come along

Uncle Pat had dodged all over the limited
garden, and the tribe followed Ms trail. Finally
they stopped at a gap in the hedge which leads
into the field. There was a little wosden hut
in the field, where Daddy used to go and put
up a printed cardboard : " WORKING." He
found it a very good dodge when he wanted a
quiet smoke and a nap. Usually there was
nothing else in the field, but this time the Chief
pushed the whole tribe hurriedly behind the
hedge, and whispered to them to look carefully
out between the branches.

In the middle of the field a tripod of sticks
supported a kettle. At each side of it w&s a
hunched-up figure in a coloured blanket. Uncle
Pat had done his work skilfully and well.
" You must get them before they can reach244

THREE OE THEM

their rifles," said the Chief. " What about their
horses ? Black Bear, move down the hedge and
bring back word about their horses. If you see
none give three whistles."

The whistles were soon heard, and the warrior
returned.

" If the horses had been there, what would
you have done ? "

" Scalped them ! " said Dimples.

" Silly ass ! " said Laddie. " Who ever heard
of a horse's scalp ? You would stampede them."

" Of course," said the Chief. " If ever you
see a horse grazing, you crawl up to it, spring
on its back and then gallop away with your head
looking under its neck and only your foot to
be seen. Don't you forget it. But we must
scupper these rascals on our hunting-grounds."

" Shall we crawl up to them ? "

" Yes, crawl up. Then when I give a whoop
rush them. Take them alive. I wish to have
a word with them first. Carry them into the
hut. Go!"

Away went the eager little figures, the chubby
babes and the two lithe, active boys. Daddy
stood behind the bush watching them. They
kept a line and tip-toed along to the camp of
the strangers. Then on the Chief's signal they
burst into a cry and rushed wildly with waving
weapons into the camp of the Palefaces. A
moment later the two pillow-made trappersTHREE OF THEM

245

were being dragged off into the hut by the
whooping warriors. They were up-ended in one
corner when the Chief entered, and the victorious
Indians were dancing about in front of them.

" Anybody wounded ? " asked the Chief.

" No, no."

" Have you tied their hands ? "

With perfect gravity Red Buffalo made move-
ments behind each of the pillows.

" They are tied, great Chief."

" What shall we do with them ? ".

" Cut off their heads! " shrieked Dimples,
who was always the most bloodthirsty of the
tribe, though in private life he had been known
to weep bitterly over a squashed caterpillar.

" The proper thing is to tie them to a stake,"
said Laddie.

" What do you mean by killing our buffaloes ?"
asked Daddy, severely.

The prisoners preserved a sulky silence.

" Shall I shoot the green one ? " asked
Dimples, presenting his wooden pistol.

" Wait a bit! " said the Chief. " We had
best keep one as a hostage and send the other
back to say that unless the Chief of the Palefaces
pays a ransom within three days——"

But at that moment, as a great romancer
used to say, a strange thing happened. There
was the sound of a turning key and the whole
tribe of the Leatherskins was locked into the246	THREE OF THEM

I

hut. A moment later a dreadful face appeared
at the window, a face daubed with mud and
overhung with grass, which drooped down from
under a soft cap. The weird creature danced in
triumph, and then stooped to set a light to some
paper and shavings near the window.

" Heavens ! " cried the Chief. " It is Yellow
Snake, the ferocious Chief of the Bottlenoses! "

Flame and smoke were rising outside. It was
excellently done and perfectly 1-safe, but too
much for the younger warriors. The key turned,
the door opened, and two tearful babes were in
the arms of the kneeling Lady. E ed Buffalo and
Black Bear were of sterner stuff.

" I'm not frightened, Daddy," said Laddie,
though he looked a little pale.

"Nor me," cried Dimples, hurrying to get
out of the hut.

" We'll lock the prisoners up with no food
and have a council of war upon them in the
morning," said the Chief. " Perhaps we've
done enough to-day."

" I rather think you have," said the^Lady, as
she soothed the poor little sobbing figures.

" That's the worst of having kids to play,''
said Dimples. " Fancy having a squaw in a
war-party! "

" Never mind, we've had a jolly good Indian
game," said Laddie, as the sound of a distant
bell called them all to the nursery tea.

Printed ly Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld.} London and Aylesbury, England.This book is a preservation facsimile produced for
the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
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