Stephen Archer and Other Tales by George MacDonald (best novels for students txt) 📖

A man must do his duty, but it's a comfort when his colonel takes notice of it.

Ger. Is it all from duty, William? Yet why should I look for more? There was a little girl I tried to do my duty by once-My head's rather queer still, William.

Col. G. Is there nothing to be done, sir?

Ger. No; it's here-( putting his hand to his head )-inside.

Col. G. I meant about the little girl, sir.-I can keep dark as well as another.-When there's anything on a man's mind, sir-good or bad-it's a relief to mention it. If you could trust me-( A pause .) Men have trusted their servants and not repented it.

Ger. No doubt-no doubt. But there is no help for me.

Col. G. You cannot be sure of that, sir.

Ger. You would help me if you could, I believe.

Col. G. God knows I would, sir-to the last drop of my blood.

Ger. That's saying much, William. A son couldn't say more-no, nor a father either.

Col. G. Oh! yes, he could, sir.

Ger. And mean it?

Col. G. Yes.

Ger. If I had a father, William, I would tell him all about it. I was but two years old when he left me.

Col. G. Then you don't remember him, sir?

Ger. I often dream about him, and then I seem to remember him.

Col. G. What is he like, sir?-in your dreams, I mean.

Ger. I never see him distinctly: I try hard sometimes, but it's no use. If he would but come home! I feel as if I could bear anything then.-But I'm talking like a girl!

Col. G. Where is your father, sir?

Ger. In India.

Col. G. A soldier, sir?

Ger. Yes. Colonel Gervaise-you must have heard of him. Sir Walter he is now.

Col. G. I've heard of him , sir-away in the north parts he's been, mostly.

Ger. Yes. How I wish he would come home! I would do everything to please him. I have it, William! I'll go to India. I did think of going to Garibaldi-but I won't-I'll go to India. I must find my father. Will you go with me?

Col. G. Willingly, sir.

Ger. Is there any fighting there now?

Col. G. Not at present, I believe.

Ger. That's a pity. I would have listed in my father's regiment, and then-that is, by the time he found me out-he wouldn't be ashamed of me. I've done nothing yet. I'm nobody yet, and what could he do with a son that was nobody-a great man like him! A fine son I should be! A son ought to be worthy of his father. Don't you think so, William?

Col. G. That wouldn't be difficult, sir!-I mean with most fathers.

Ger. Ah! but mine , you know, William!-Are you good at the cut and thrust?

Col G. Pretty good, sir, I believe.

Ger. Then we'll have a bout or two. I've got rusty.-Have I said anything odd-or-or-I mean since I've been ill?

Col. G. Nothing you need mind, sir.

Ger. I'm glad of that.-I feel as if-( putting his hand to his head ). William! what could you do for a man-if he was your friend?-no, I mean, if he was your enemy?

Col. G. I daren't say, sir.

Ger. Is the sun shining?

Col. G. Yes, sir. It's a lovely day.

Ger. What a desert the sky is!-so dreary and wide and waste!-Ah! if I might but creep into a hole in a tree, and feel it closing about me! How comfortable those toads must feel!

Col. G. ( aside ). He's getting light-headed again! I must send for the doctor. Exit .

Ger. But the tree would rot, and the walls grow thin, and the light come through. It is crumbling now! And I shall have to meet her ! And then the wedding! Oh my God! ( Starts up and paces about the room .)-It is the only way! My pistols, I think-yes.-( Goes to a table, finds his keys, and unlocks a case .)-There they are! I may as well have a passport at hand! ( Loading one .)-The delicate thunder-tube! ( Turns it over lovingly .) Solitude and silence! One roar and then rest! No-no rest!-still the demon to fight! But no eyes to meet and brave!-Who is that in the street?-She is at the door-with him!

Enter COL. G. and seizes his arm .

Ger. ( with a cry ). You've killed my Psyche! ( Goes to the clay, and lifts the cloth .) There's the bullet-hole through her heart!

Col. G. It might have been worse, sir.

Ger. Worse! I've killed her! See where she flies! She's gone! She's gone! ( Bursts into tears . COL. G. leads him to the couch .) Thank you, William. I couldn't help it. That man was with her. I meant it for myself.

Col. G. Who did you say was with her?

Ger. You mustn't heed what I say. I am mad. ( A knock. He starts up .) Don't let them in, William. I shall rave if you do.

COL. G. catches up the pistols and exit hurriedly . GER. throws
himself on the couch .

Re-enter COL. G.

Col. G. ( aside ). He is in love with her! Everything proves it. My boy! My boy!

Ger. Father! father!-Oh, William! I was dreaming, and took you for my father! I must die, William-somehow. There must be some way out of this! The doors can't all be locked.

Col. G. There's generally a chance to be had, sir. There's always a right and a wrong fighting it out somewhere. There's Garibaldi in the field again! Die by the hand of an enemy-if you will die, sir.

Ger. ( smiling ) That I couldn't, William: the man that killed me would be my best friend.-Yes-Garibaldi!-I don't deserve it, though: he fights for his country; I should fight but for death. Only a man doesn't stop when he dies-does he, William?

Col. G. I trust not, sir. But he may hope to be quieter-that is, if he dies honestly. It's grand for a soldier! He sweeps on the roaring billows of war into a soundless haven! Think of that, sir!

Ger. Why, William! how you talk!-Yes! it would be grand! On the crest of the war-cataract-heading a cavalry charge!-Tomorrow, William. I shall be getting stronger all the way. We'll start to-morrow.

Col. G. Where for, sir?

Ger. For Italy-for Garibaldi. You'll go with me?

Col. G. To the death, sir.

Ger. Yes; that's it-that's where I'm going. But not to-day. Look at my arm: it wouldn't kill a rat!-You saved my life, but I'm not grateful. If I was dead, I might be watching her-out of the lovely silence!-My poor Psyche!

Col. G. She's none the worse, sir. The pistol didn't go off.

Ger. Ah!-She ought to have fallen to pieces-long ago! You've been seeking to keep her shroud wet. But it's no matter. Let her go. Earth to earth, and dust to dust!-the law of Nature-and Art too.

Exit into the house .

Col. G. ( following him ) I mustn't lose sight of him.-Here he comes again, thank God!

Catches up a coat, and begins brushing it .

Re-enter GER.

Ger. I don't like to see you doing that.

Col. G. Why shouldn't I serve my own-superior, sir? Anything's better than serving yourself. And that's what every one does who won't serve other people.

Ger. You are right. And it's so cheap.

Col. G. And so nasty!

Ger. Right again, William!-Right indeed!-You're a gentleman! If there's anything I could help you in-anything gone wrong,-any friends offended-I'm not altogether without influence.

Col. G. ( aside ) He will vanquish me with my own weapons!

Ger. But you will go to Garibaldi with me?

Col. G. I will, sir.

Ger. And ride by my side?

Col. G. Of course.

Ger. If you ride by me, you will have to ride far.

Col. G. I know, sir. But if you would be fit for fighting, you must come and have something to eat and drink.

Ger. All right. A soldier must obey: I shall begin by obeying you. Only mind you keep up with me. Exit, leaning on COL. G.

Enter THOMAS.

Tho. Th' dule a mon be yere! Aw're main troubled to get shut ov they reyvers! Aw'm olez i' trouble! Mine's a gradely yed! it be!-Hoy!-Nobory yere! 'T seems to me, honest men be scarce i' Lonnon. Aw'm beawn to believe nobory but mo own heighes, and mo own oud lass. Exit .

Re-enter GERVAISE, followed by COL. G.

Ger. No, William; I won't lie down. I feel much better. Let's have a bout with the foils.

Col. G. Very well, sir. ( Aside .) A little of that will go far, I know. ( Gets down the foils .)

Ger. And, William, you must set a block up here. I shall have a cut or two at it to-morrow. There's a good cavalry weapon up there-next that cast of Davis's arm.

Col. G. Suppose your father were to arrive just after you had started!

Ger. I shouldn't mind. I don't want to see him yet. I'm such a poor creature! The heart seems to have gone out of me. You see, William-

Enter MRS. CLIFFORD.

Ger. Ah! How do you do, aunt?

Mrs. C. What's this nonsense about Garibaldi, Arthur?

Ger. Who told you?

Mrs. C. You don't mean it's true?

Ger. Quite true, aunt.

Mrs. C. Really, Arthur, you are more of a scatterbrain than I took you for!

Ger. Don't say that, aunt. I only take after my father.

Mrs. C. Don't talk to me of your father! I have no patience with him. A careless hard-hearted fellow-not worthy the name of a father! ( She glares