every tribe, in every race, in every period, the essential principle
indeed, behind the great world-war. In the stress and confusion of
the fight, as the eyes of the victim, savage in victory, abject in
defeat--the appealing eyes of that animal face against the tree stared
with their awful blaze into his own, this flashed clearly over him.
It was the battle between might and right, between love and hate,
forgiveness and vengeance, Christ and the Devil. He heard the menacing
thunder of "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth," then above its
angry volume rose suddenly another small silvery voice that pierced with
sweetness:--"Vengeance is mine, I will repay ..." sang through him as
with unimaginable hope.
Something became incandescent in him then. He realized a singular
merging of powers in absolute opposition to each other. It was as though
they harmonized. Yet it was through this small, silvery voice the
apparent magic came. The words, of course, were his own in memory,
but they rose from his modern soul, now reawakening.... He started
painfully. He noted again that he stood apart, alone, perhaps forgotten
of the others. The woman, leading a dancing throng about the blazing
brushwood, was far from him. Her mind, too sure of his compliance, had
momentarily left him. The chain was weakened. The circuit knew a break.
But this sudden realization was not of spontaneous origin. His heart had
not produced it of its own accord. The unholy tumult of the orgy held
him too slavishly in its awful sway for the tiny point of his modern
soul to have pierced it thus unaided. The light flashed to him from an
outside, natural source of simple loveliness--the singing of a bird.
From the distance, faint and exquisite, there had reached him the
silvery notes of a happy thrush, awake in the night, and telling its
joy over and over again to itself. The innocent beauty of its song came
through the forest and fell into his soul....
The eyes, he became aware, had shifted, focusing now upon an object
nearer to them. The knife was moving. There was a convulsive wriggle of
the body, the head dropped loosely forward, no cry was audible. But, at
the same moment, the inner battle ceased and an unexpected climax came.
Did the soul of the bully faint with fear? Did the spirit leave him at
the actual touch of earthly vengeance? The watcher never knew. In that
appalling moment when the knife was about to begin the mission that the
fire would complete, the roar of inner battle ended abruptly, and
that small silvery voice drew the words of invincible power from his
reawakening soul. "Ye do it also unto me ..." pealed o'er the forest.
He reeled. He acted instantaneously. Yet before he had dashed the knife
from the hand of the executioner, scattered the pile of blazing wood,
plunged through the astonished worshippers with a violence of strength
that amazed even himself; before he had torn the thongs apart and
loosened the fainting victim from the tree; before he had uttered a
single word or cry, though it seemed to him he roared with a voice of
thousands--he witnessed a sight that came surely from the Heaven of his
earliest childhood days, from that Heaven whose God is love and whose
forgiveness was taught him at his mother's knee.
With superhuman rapidity it passed before him and was gone. Yet it was
no earthly figure that emerged from the forest, ran with this incredible
swiftness past the startled throng, and reached the tree. He saw the
shape; the same instant it was there; wrapped in light, as though a
flame from the sacrificial fire flashed past him over the ground. It was
of an incandescent brightness, yet brightest of all were the little
outstretched hands. These were of purest gold, of a brilliance
incredibly shining.
It was no earthly child that stretched forth these arms of generous
forgiveness and took the bewildered prisoner by the hand just as the
knife descended and touched the helpless wrists. The thongs were already
loosened, and the victim, fallen to his knees, looked wildly this way
and that for a way of possible escape, when the shining hands were laid
upon his own. The murderer rose. Another instant and the throng must
have been upon him, tearing him limb from limb. But the radiant little
face looked down into his own; she raised him to his feet; with
superhuman swiftness she led him through the infuriated concourse as
though he had become invisible, guiding him safely past the furies into
the cover of the trees. Close before his eyes, this happened; he saw the
waft of golden brilliance, he heard the final gulp of it, as wind took
the dazzling of its fiery appearance into space. They were gone....
9
He stood watching the disappearing motor-cars, wondering uneasily who
the occupants were and what their business, whither and why did they
hurry so swiftly through the night? He was still trying to light his
pipe, but the damp tobacco would not burn.
The air stole out of the forest, cooling his body and his mind; he saw
the anemones gleam; there was only peace and calm about him, the earth
lay waiting for the sweet, mysterious stars. The moon was higher; he
looked up; a late bird sang. Three strips of cloud, spaced far apart,
were the footsteps of the South Wind, as she flew to bring more birds
from Africa. His thoughts turned to gentle, happy hopes of a day when
the lion and the lamb should lie down together, and a little child
should lead them. War, in this haunt of ancient peace, seemed an
incredible anachronism.
He did not go farther; he did not enter the forest; he turned back along
the quiet road he had come, ate his food on a farmer's gate, and over
a pipe sat dreaming of his sure belief that humanity had advanced. He
went home to his hotel soon after midnight. He slept well, and next day
walked back the four miles from the hospitals, instead of using the car.
Another hospital searcher walked with him. They discussed the news.
"The weather's better anyhow," said his companion. "In our favour at
last!"
"That's something," he agreed, as they passed a gang of prisoners and
crossed the road to avoid saluting.
"Been another escape, I hear," the other mentioned. "He won't get far.
How on earth do they manage it? The M.O. had a yarn that he was helped
by a motor-car. I wonder what they'll do to him."
"Oh, nothing much. Bread and water and extra work, I suppose?"
The other laughed. "I'm not so sure," he said lightly. "Humanity hasn't
advanced very much in that kind of thing."
A fugitive memory flashed for an instant through the other's brain as he
listened. He had an odd feeling for a second that he had heard this
conversation before somewhere. A ghostly sense of familiarity brushed
his mind, then vanished. At dinner that night the table in front of him
was unoccupied. He did not, however, notice that it was unoccupied.
THE END
Transcriber's notes
Punctuation errors have been corrected. Also the following changes have
been made, on page
39 "pleasel" changed to "pleased" (to what dream he pleased.)
107 "peform" changed to "perform" (father will perform the sacrifice)
124 "morever" changed to "moreover" (leisure, moreover. Grimwood)
126 "be" changed to "he" (where had he come from)
182 "it" changed to "is" (the house is getting on)
190 "hanging" changed to "banging" (the front door banging)
195 "saidly" changed to "sadly" (he said sadly)
240 "implicity" changed to "implicitly" (had obeyed implicitly,
believing everything)
254 "additioin" changed to "addition" (respect in addition to his
gratitude.)
256 "yho" changed to "who" (but a man who has served)
262 "sunride" changed to "sunrise" (from the sunrise end.)
266 "has" changed to "his" (Purdy had gone his way again)
278 "incredudous" changed to "incredulous" (of incredulous surprise)
286 "deliberatelly" changed to "deliberately" (away as deliberately as
she had turned to look
307 "diety" changed to "deity" (against the very deity he had
worshipped).
Otherwise the original text has been preserved, including inconsistent
spelling and hyphenation.