Barbarians

and Destiny. But they're always billed for any performance, be it vaudeville or tragedy; and the

hen on a slow train to Quimperlé, and then, by stagecoach, to that little lost house on the moors, wh

ther forcing his convalescence, but he believed it[pg 65] would accelerate it to go

new so well. He had longed for the s

mmered; it edged the low-driven clouds hurrying in from the sea; it out

mpses of rollers bursting white against the reef; heard duller detonations along

, spangled the brown barrels of his fowling-piece, and ran down the varnished supports

ld ducks rose through the phantom light and came whirring in from the sea that his gun, poked stiffly skyward, flashed in the pallid vo

is ears, he seemed to catch deadened sounds resembling distant seaward cannonading-real cannonading-as t

t, intent upon the sounds he ought to

pounding of the sea

e fog; he breasted the wind, balanced heavily on b

one great, panic-stricken, clamoring cloud. He hesitated; a muffled, thudding sound came to him o

irling mist ahead-an enormous shadow in the fog-a giga

ast overhead-a wounded, wavering, unsteady, unbalanced thing, its ri

rd-hit duck, wing-crippled, fighting desperately for flig

ling piece bobbing on his back, his rubber-shod crutches groping and probing among

place to broom and blighted bracken, all wet, sagging with rain. Then he crossed a swal

a strip of low, thorn-clad cliff confronted him, up wh

ust beyond, its wind-tortured bra

he mist; southward spread the sea; to the north lay the wide w

tening. The sombre beech-woods spread thick on either hand, a wilderness of crosse

es overhead; there was no sound except the wind's flowing roar and the ghostly noise of his own voice, hallooing through

had it struggled on, sheering the tree-tops, before it fell

here and there, calling, listening, searching the foggy corridors of trees. The

y, limping through the blotched and broken ferns, his crippled leg hangin

ad[pg 70] leaves; but at length came rising ground, and the blue-green, gli

oomed shadowy in the mist, and a low stone house took shape, whi

clove-pinks and tall white phlox exhaled a homely welcome as the lame

ng herbs, looked up at him out of aged eye

ave been out since dawn. Was it wise,

use the more exercise I take the

n to go out in

g 71] he retorted, smiling. "And we like r

over her withered cheeks the soft bloom came and faded-that

rity and respect, "that I do not counsel caution because I love thee and dread for thee

d good hu

hes we break a comrade into pieces and glue him together again, just to

earth, slicing vegetables and herbs, but watching

r-God knows he was hardy and without fear-to the last"-she dropped he

thed their beautiful heads and breasts, then slipped the soaking bandoulière of h

on dry clothes, I shall come to luncheon; and I shall h

two remaining rooms-the other

. There was an egg for him, too; and a slice

land was whistl

rned her eyes to his closed door-wonderful eyes t

rm of the Legion, tunic unbuttoned, collarless of shirt, his

f; Marie-Josephine waited on him, hovered over him, tucked a sack of feath

g, leisurel

for ducks on the Eryx Rocks, that once I thought I heard through the roar of wind and sea the sound of a far cannonading. Bu

nd from the fire where her own soup simmered in the ket

reat a?roplane rushing inland from the sea-flying swiftly above me-right over me!-and staggering like

ed, rested now on the table and she

emy-this airs

I think-coming as it came from the sea. But I am troubled, Marie-Josephine. Were the guns at sea an enemy

perhaps from standing too

rs, where there are no people any more, only the creatures of the

ly and in silence

mates the Huns.... After all, Lorient is not so far away.... Yet it surely must have been an English a?roplane, beaten off

ip or two only-then, s

led as loudly as I could; the wind whirled my voice

s far as my strength permitted. I he

y be dead?

rol they had, whether they could steer-choose a landing

English flying men, out there on the moors in the rain

th allows.... If the rain would cease and the mist li

o go, Monsie

Englishmen-and perhaps injured? Su

oast g

. Tonight, when I see his comrade's lantern, I shall stop him[p

ors today." She began to unpin the coiffe which she a

knowest I must go

on them in the fores

e English, I tell th

hou must go forth," she muttered; "go always where thy spirit calls. And once he wen

g