II

All of a sudden, and in the most unexpected manner, these vast designs

of ours contracted their dimensions, or, as one might say, our outlook

became focussed on a solitary point. From a world-wide mission to all

mankind we narrowed down at a single stroke to a concentrated operation

on a strictly limited class. But I can tell you that what our mission

lost in scope it gained in intensity. You shall hear how all this

happened and judge for yourself.

One night Billy and I were lying awake as usual, and the question "shall

we talk?" had been asked and duly answered in the affirmative. We had

raised ourselves in bed, leaning toward each other, and the telepathic

current was running strong.

"Billy," I whispered, "I've got a ripping notion, a regular stunner. I'm

bursting to tell you."

"What is it?"

"Put your ear a little closer, Billy, and listen like mad. Suppose you

were to meet a beautiful woman--_what would you do_?"

Quick as thought came the answer--"I should ask her to tell me the

time."

"Why, that's _exactly_ what _I_ should do. We'll do it, the very next

time we meet one. And, Billy, I'm sure we shall meet one _soon_."

"So am I."

Next day, the instant we were freed from school we bolted for the Park,

exalted in spirit and full of resolution. A lovely Presence floated in

the light above us and accompanied us as we ran. Arrived in the Park, we

seemed to have reached the threshold of a new world. We stood on a peak

in Darien; and before us there shimmered an enchanted sea lit by the

softest of lights and tinted with the fairest of colours. Forces as old

as the earth and as young as the dawn were stirring within us; the

breath of spring was in our souls, and a vision of living beauty, seen

only in the faintest of glimpses, lured us on.

Think not that we lacked discrimination. "Let's wait, Billy," I said, as

he made a dart forward at a girl in a white frock, "till we find one

beautiful _enough_. That one won't do. Look at the size of her feet."

"_Whackers!_" said he, checking himself. And then he made a remark which

I have often thought was the strangest thing Billy ever uttered. "I

wouldn't be surprised," came the solemn whisper, "_if her feet were made

of clay_."

So day by day we ranged the Park, sometimes together, sometimes

separate, possessed of one thought only--that of a woman beautiful

enough _to be asked the time_. Hundreds of faces--and forms--were

examined, sometimes to the surprise of their owners; but the more we

examined, the more inexorable, the more difficult to satisfy, became our

ideal. At each fresh contact with reality it rose higher and outran the

facts of life, until we were on the point of concluding that the world

contained no woman beautiful enough to be asked the time. Never were

women stared at with greater innocence of heart, but never were they

judged by a more fastidious taste. And yet we had no definable

criterion. Of each new specimen examined all we could say was, "That one

won't do." But _why_ she wouldn't do we didn't know. We never disagreed.

What wouldn't do for Billy wouldn't do for me, and _vice versa_.

Once we met a charming little girl about our own age, walking all alone.

"That's the one!" cried I. "Come on, Billy."

I started forward, Billy close behind. Presently he clutched my jacket,

"Stop!" he said, "_What if she has no watch?_"

The little girl was running away.

"We've frightened her," said Billy, who was a little gentleman. "We're

two beasts."

"She heard what you said about the watch," I answered, "and thought we

wanted to steal it. She had one after all. Billy, we've lost our

chance."

As we went home that day, something gnawed cruelly at our hearts. Things

had gone wrong. An ideal world had been on the point of realisation, and

a freak of contingency had spoiled it. In another moment "time" would

have been revealed to us by one worthy to make the revelation. But the

sudden thought of a watch had ruined all. Once more we had tasted the

tragic quality of life.

With ardour damped but not extinguished, we continued the quest day

after day. But we were now half-hearted and we became aware of a strange

falling-off in the beauty of the ladies who frequented the Park.

"We shall never find her here," said Billy. "Let's try the walk down by

the river. They are better-looking down there, especially on Sunday

afternoon. And I'll bet you most of them have watches."

The very day on which Billy made this proposal another nasty thing

happened to us. We were summoned into the Headmaster's study and

informed that complaints had reached him concerning two boys who were

in the habit of walking about in the Park and staring in the rudest

manner at the young ladies, and making audible remarks about their

personal appearance. Were we the culprits? We confessed that we were.

What did we mean by it? We were silent: not for a whole Archipelago

packed full of buried treasure would we have answered that question. Did

we consider it conduct worthy of gentlemen? We said we did not, though

as a matter of fact we did. Dark hints of flagitiousness were thrown

out, which our innocence wholly failed to comprehend. The foolish man

then gave himself away by telling us that whenever we met Miss

Overbury's school on their daily promenade we were to walk on the other

side of the road.

Billy and I exchanged meaning glances: we knew now who had complained

(as though we would ever think of asking _them_ to tell us the time!).

Finally we were forbidden, under threat of corporal chastisement, to

enter the Park under any pretexts or circumstances whatsoever.

"The old spouter doesn't know," said I to Billy as we left the room,

"that we've already made up our minds not to go there again. What a

'suck-in' for him!"

Necessity having thus combined with choice, the scene of our quest was

now definitely shifted to the river-bank, where a broad winding path,

with seats at intervals, ran under the willows. Here a new order of

beauty seemed to present itself, and our hopes ran high. Several

promising candidates presented themselves at once. One, I remember, wore

a scarlet feather; another carried a gray muff. The scarlet feather was

my fancy; the gray muff Billy's.

I think it was on the occasion of our third visit to the river that the

crisis came. We sat down on the bank and held a long consultation.

"Well," said Billy at last, "I'm willing to ask Scarlet Feather. She's

ripping. Her _nose_ takes the cake; but, mind you, Gray Muff has the

prettier _boots_. And I know Scarlet Feather has a watch--I saw the

chain when we passed her just now. But before deciding I'm going to

have another look at Gray Muff. She's just round the bend. You wait

here--I'll be back in half a second."

I was left alone, and for some minutes I continued to gaze at the

flowing stream in front of me. Suddenly I saw, dancing about on the

surface of the water--but doubtless the whole thing was hallucination!

My nerves were in high tension at the moment, and in those days I could

have dreams without going to sleep.

The dream was interrupted by the sudden return of Billy. He was white as

the tablecloth and trembling all over.

"Come on!" he gasped. "I've found the very one! Quick, quick, or she'll

be gone!"

"Is it Gray Muff?" I asked.

"No, no. It's another. The Very One, I tell you. The One we've been

looking for."

"Billy," I said, "I've just seen a Good One too. She was dancing about

on the water."

"Oh, rot!" cried Billy. "Mine's the One! Come on, I say! I'm certain she

won't wait. She looked as though she wouldn't sit still for a single

minute."

"What is she like, Billy?" I asked as we hurried away.

"She's--_oh, she's the exact image of my mater_!" he said.

Billy's mater had died about a year ago. At the age of twelve I had been

deeply in love with her, and to this hour her image remains with me as

the type of all that is most lovely and commendable in woman. O Billy's

mater, will these eyes ever see you again? How glad I am to remember

you! I know where you lie buried, but I doubt if there lives another

soul who could find your resting-place. Harshly were you judged and

conveniently were you forgotten! But I will scatter lilies on your grave

this very night.

Well, we ran with all our might. Scarlet Feather, Gray Muff, and the

dancing "good one" on the surface of the water were clean forgotten as

if they had never existed--as perhaps one of them never did. "_Just_

like my mater!" Billy kept gasping. "Hurry up! I tell you she won't

wait! She's on the seat watching the water; no, not _that_ seat. It's

round the next bend but one."

We turned the bend and came in sight of the seat where Billy had seen

what he saw. The seat was empty. We looked round us: not a soul was in

sight. We checked our pace and in utter silence, and very slowly, crept

up to the empty seat, gazing round us as we walked. Was there ever such

a melancholy walk! Oh, what a _Via Dolorosa_ we found it! Arrived at the

seat, Billy felt it all over with his hands and, finding nothing, flung

himself face downwards on the turf and uttered the most lamentable cry I

have ever heard.

"I knew she wouldn't wait," he moaned. "Oh, why weren't we quicker! Oh,

why didn't I ask her the time the minute I saw her!"

As, shattered and silent, we crawled back to school, continually

loitering to gaze at a world that was all hateful, I realised with a

feeling of awe that I had become privy to something deep in Billy's

soul. And I inwardly resolved that, so far as I could, I would set the

matter right, and put friendship on a footing of true equality, by

telling Billy the deepest secret of _mine_.

"Billy," I said, as we lay wakeful in the small hours of the next

morning, "come and stay with us next holidays, _and I will show you

something_."

"What is it?"

"You wait and see."

The great adventure was over. It had ended in disaster and tears. Never

again did Billy and I ask any human being to tell us the time.