Foes

rrounded the keep. Ivy overgrew this; below a wide and ragged breach a pine had set its roots in the hillside. Its top rose bushy above the stones. Beyond the opening, one saw from the school-roo

esk and shelves for books. One door opened upon the little green and the

tainment thereof. The irregularity mattered the less as the eldest Jardine combined with a passion for personal liberty and out of doors a passion for knowledge. Moreover, he liked and trusted Strickland. He would go far, but not far enough to strain the tutor's patience. His father and mother and all about Glenfernie knew his way and in a measure acquiesced. He had managed to obtain for himself range. Young as he was, his indrawing, outpushing force was considerable, and was on the way, Strickla

nt perched beneath the pine-tree, in a crook made by rock and brown root, overhanging the autumn world. Strickland at his own desk dipped quill into ink-well and continued a letter to a friend in England. The minutes went by. From the courtyard cam

to and fro over the difficult lesson. "I nev

uralized, and named. Of old, where injury was done, the Erinnys were at hand to pull the roof down upon the head of the injurer. Their office was to provide unerringly sword for sword, bitter cup for bitter cup. They never forgot, they always aveng

was set to mathematics. The tutor's quil

has come to

ce worshiped

iers bringing fine

me when she goes to see

spend money an

st bonny when she was young, bu

ird that Mr. Touris put f

went the bees outside the window. The sun climbed high. Alexander shut his geometry

ne, Mr. St

pupil put before him. "Yes, that is correct. Do

well, I

ad well and to speak well. You do not do badly, but not well enough. So, let's begin!" He put out his han

f stood, the morning light flowing in upon him. He opened the volume and read, wi

ckland. "That is a s

nder

he was clad in the favor of all who loved song. He became a wandering minstrel-poet. The shepherd loved him, and the fisher; the trader and the mechanic sighed when he sang; the soldier and

d and from island, and those inner athletes and starry ones, the poets, traveled. Great feasting was to be in Corinth, and contests of strength and f

hers at the spring, saw but a poet with a staff and a lyre. Now he was found upon the highroad, and now the

tening and singing, and to have for him, as he for them, a loving friendship. And, looking up to the sky, he saw, drawn out stringwise, a flight of cranes, addressed to Egypt. And between his heart and them ran, like a rippling path that th

the sacred poet, with his staff and his lyre, went on into the wood. Now

lay masked

l, listening. Strickland kept

take from them goods and, if they resisted, life. In a dark place they lay in wait, and fro

a keen knife, and he sank, and lay in his blood. The place was the edge of a glade, where the trees thinned away and the sky might be seen overhead. And now, across the blue heaven, came a second line of the south-ward-goin

d, then in a long line sailed southward through the blue air until they might neither be heard nor seen. The robbers stared after them. They laughed, but without mir

terest him. Strickland was used to stormy youth, to its passional moments, sudden glows, burnings, sympathies, defiances, lurid shows of effects with the causes largely unapparent. It was his trade to know youth, and he had a psychologist's interest. He said now to himself, "There is something in his character that connects itself with, that responds to, the idea of vengeance." There came

them, known and loved. Great mourning arose, and vain search for them who had done this wrong. But those strong, wicked ones were gone, fled from their haunts, f

st darken the sunshine of the famous days. Corinth uttered a cry of lamentation and wrath. 'Where are the ill-doers, the spillers of blood, that we may spill their blood

like the shock of ocean. Around, tier above tier, swept the rows, and for roof there was the blue and sunny air. Then the voice of the sea hushed, for now entered the many-numbered chorus.

high, but not so high that their shape is indistinguishable, a long flight of cranes. Heads move, eyes are raised, but none know why that interest is so keen, so still. Then from out the throng rises, struck

m. 'What do you know of Ibycus?' And great Pan drove the

table. His hand shook, his face was convulsed. "I've read as far as needs be.

to the house. He went out of the west door and across the grassy space to the gap in

a long time ago, and then a shorter time ago, and then now. He sa

e's many in one, and that the many an

an," said the tutor. "Let

his arms, lay still. The waves within subsided, sank to a long, deep swell, then from that to quiet. The door that wind and tide had beaten open shut again. Alexander lay without thinking, without overmuch feeling. At last, turning, he opened his eyes upon the tree-tops and the August sky. The door was shut upon tales of injury and revenge. Betwee

home with them and they with him. There was no need to make talk, but he sat and looked at the marigolds while the woman moved about and the old man wove rushes into mats. Fr

ing, a passioning for he knew not what. "I wish that there were great things in my lif

abrupt, curiously shaped hill, dark with outstanding granite and with fir-trees. Where at the eastern end it broke away, where at its b

near at hand, the head rose above the brow of the ridge. It was a handsome head, with a cap and feather, with gold-brown hair lightly clustering, and a countenance of spir