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Richard the Third, III. vi

To draw the brats of Clarence out of sight;

And to give order that no manner person

Have any time recourse unto the princes.

Exeunt [Richard and Ratcliff].

Scriv. Here is the indictment of the good Lord Hastings;

Which in a set hand fairly is engross'd,

That it may be to-day read o'er in Paul's:

And mark how well the sequel hangs together.

Eleven hours I have spent to write it over,

For yesternight by Catesby was it sent me.

The precedent was full as long a-doing;

And yet within these five hours Hastings liv'd,

Untainted, unexamin'd, free, at liberty.

Here's a good world the while! Who is so gross

That cannot see this palpable device?

Yet who so bold but says he sees it not?

Bad is the world; and all will come to naught,

When such ill dealing must be seen in thought.

Exit.

 107 manner: manner of

108 recourse: access  Scene Six S. d. Scrivener: professional scribe

2 engross'd: written out in a legal hand

7 precedent: original rough copy

9 Untainted: without suspicion of guilt

10 gross: stupid

14 seen in thought: i.e. observed but not referred to

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Page:Travels in West Africa, Congo Français, Corisco and Cameroons (IA travelsinwestafr00kingrich).pdf/707

 eat, as was once said to me by a philanthropic German who had never been to the Coast, because the Duallas are a rich tribe, perfectly free traders in the matter, able to go to the river factories and buy provisions there had they wished to, and so would not have bought the Government rations unless they were worth having. The great point that has brought the Germans into disrepute with the natives employed by them is their military spirit, which gives rise to a desire to regulate everything; and that other attribute of the military spirit, nagging. You should never nag an African, it only makes him bothered and then sulky, and when he's sulky he'll lie down and die to spite you. But in spite of the Germans being over-given to this unpleasant habit of military regularity and so on, the natives from the Kru Coast and from Bassa and the French Ivory Coast return to them time after time for spells of work, so there must be grave exaggeration regarding their bad treatment, for these natives are perfectly free in the matter.

The French use Loango boys for factory hands and these people are very bright and intelligent, but as a M'pongwe, who knew them well, said: "They are much too likely to be devils to be good too much" and are undoubtedly given to poisoning, which is an unpleasant habit in a house servant. Their military force are composed of Senegalese Laptot, very fine, fierce fellows, superior, I believe, as fighting men to our Hausas, and very devoted to, and well treated by, their French officers.

That the Frenchman does not know how to push trade in his possessions, the trade returns, with the balance all on the wrong side, clearly show; still he does know how to get possession of Africa better than we do, and this means he knows how to deal with the natives. The building up of Congo Français for example, has not cost one-third of the human lives, black or white, that an equivalent quantity of Congo Belge has, nor one-third of the expense of Uganda or Sierra Leone. It is customary in England to dwell on the commercial failure, and deduce from it the erroneous conclusion that France will soon leave it off when she finds it does not pay. This is an error, because commercial success—the making the thing pay—is not the French ideal in the affair. It is our own, and I am the last person to say our ideal is wrong; but it is not the French ideal, and I am the last person to say France is wrong either. There may exist half a hundred or more right reasons for doing anything, and the reasons France has for her energetic policy in Africa are

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


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80

Rich. How now, how now! what say the citizens?

Buck. Now, by the holy mother of our Lord,

The citizens are mum, say not a word.

Rich. Touch'd you the bastardy of Edward's children?

Buck. I did; with his contract with Lady Lucy,

And his contract by deputy in France;

Th' unsatiate greediness of his desire,

And his enforcement of the city wives;

His tyranny for trifles; his own bastardy,

As being got, your father then in France,

And his resemblance being not like the duke:

Withal I did infer your lineaments,

Being the right idea of your father,

Both in your form and nobleness of mind;

Laid open all your victories in Scotland,

Your discipline in war, wisdom in peace,

Your bounty, virtue, fair humility;

Indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose

Untouch'd or slightly handled in discourse;

And when my oratory drew toward end,

I bid them that did love their country's good

Cry 'God save Richard, England's royal king!'

Rich. And did they so?

Buck. No, so God help me, they spake not a word;

But, like dumb statues or breathing stones,

 5 Lady Lucy; cf. n.

6 contract by deputy; cf. n.

11 resemblance: appearance

13 right idea: exact image

15 victories; cf. n.

25 statues: a trisyllable here; cf. n.

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text: Index:Adventure v040 n05 (1923-05-20) (sas).pdf


text: Index:Diggings and the bush; reminiscences of Australia (IA diggingsbushremi00howerich).pdf


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The knowledge which the Japanese possess of Mineralogy and Metallurgy, is chiefly given them by the Chinese. It is a fact, that the old civilisation of the Chinese is at least two thousand years older than the Japanese culture. China (and Corea) have influenced largely the scientific, philosophical, technical and religious development of the Japanese. Some few Japanese believe that already before Zin-mu Tenno, (660 B. C.) literature was known in Japan, but this is very improbable, because there are many proofs that the Chinese of the 2nd century before Christ considered the Japanese to be “savages.” It does not matter much what we may think about the descent of the Japanese. We may believe with Von Siebold that several tribes from “Dats” (Tartary) have retreated to Japan; we may take the Japanese with Malte-Brun and others for Autochthones, or Aborigines; we may even adhere to the strange, nearly ridiculous hypothesis of the pious Kaempfer, who carries

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text: Author:W. May Howell

title: Author:W. May Howell


text:
Talk:Adventure (Magazine)

Renewals
https://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/webbin/cinfo/adventure shows that this magazine was routinely renewed, so we shouldn't willy-nilly link to Internet Archive copies as if they were properly out of copyright without proof. Prosfilaes (talk) 02:16, 25 November 2023 (UTC)

title: Talk:Adventure (Magazine)


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Richard the Third, III. vii

Star'd each on other, and look'd deadly pale.

Which when I saw, I reprehended them;

And ask'd the mayor what meant this wilful silence:

His answer was, the people were not us'd

To be spoke to but by the recorder.

Then he was urg'd to tell my tale again:

'Thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferr'd;'

But nothing spoke in warrant from himself.

When he had done, some followers of mine own,

At lower end of the hall, hurl'd up their caps,

And some ten voices cried, 'God save King Richard!'

And thus I took the vantage of those few,

'Thanks, gentle citizens and friends,' quoth I;

'This general applause and cheerful shout

Argues your wisdom and your love to Richard?'

And even here brake off, and came away.

Rich. What tongueless blocks were they! would they not speak?

Will not the mayor, then, and his brethren come?

Buck. The mayor is here at hand. Intend some fear;

Be not you spoke with but by mighty suit:

And look you get a prayer-book in your hand,

And stand between two churchmen, good my lord:

For on that ground I'll make a holy descant:

And be not easily won to our requests;

Play the maid's part, still answer nay, and take it.

Rich. I go; and if you plead as well for them

As I can say nay to thee for myself,

No doubt we bring it to a happy issue.

Buck. Go, go, up to the leads! the Lord Mayor knocks.

[Exit Richard.]

 30 recorder: a city official

37 vantage: advantage

38 quoth: said

40 Argues: shows

44–245 Cf. n.

45 by mighty suit: after urgent entreaty

50 maid's part; cf. n.

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''He was looking for a privacy his strange personality needed. And—never quite seemed to achieve it. All his efforts were, somehow—great triumphs of the race, and great failures for him!'' RV 70


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The aging man was sweating profusely, and he darted sidelong glances at the windowless walls of the outer office. By turns, he sat stiffly in a corner chair or paced uneasily, his head swiveling constantly.

His hand was clammy when Mead shook it.

"Hello, Mr. Mead," he said in a husky, hesitant voice, his eyes never quite still, never long on Mead's face, but darting hither and yon, his glance rebounding at every turn from the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the closed outer door.

Christopher Mead, Assistant Undersecretary for External Affairs, returned the handshake, smiling. "Please come into my office," he said quickly. "It's much more spacious."

"Thank you," the aging man said gratefully and hurried into the next room. Mead rapidly opened the windows, and some of the man's nervousness left him. He sank down into the visitor's chair in front of Mead's desk, his eyes drinking in the distances beyond the windows. "Thank you," he repeated.

Mead sat down behind the desk, leaned back, and waited for the man's breathing to slow. Finally he said, "It's good to see you again, Mr. Holliday. What can I do for you?"

Martin Holliday tore his glance away from the window long enough to raise his eyes to Mead's face and then drop them to the hands he had folded too deliberately in his lap.

"I'd—" His voice husked into unintelligibility, and he had to begin again. "I'd like to take an option on a new planet," he finally said.

Mead nodded. "I don't see why not." He gestured expressively at the star chart papered over one wall of his office. "We've certainly got plenty of them. But what happened with your first one?"

"It d-d-duh—"

"Mr. Holliday, I certainly won't be offended if you'd prefer to look out the window," Mead said quickly.

"Thank you." After a moment, he began again. "It didn't work out," he said, his glance flickering back to Mead for an instant before he had to look out the window again.

"I don't know where my figuring went wrong. It didn't go wrong. It was just just things. I thought I could sell enough subdivisions to cover the payments and still keep most of it for myself, but it didn't work out."

He looked quickly at Mead with a flash of groundless guilt in his eyes. "First I had to sell more than I'd intended, because I had to lower the original price. Somebody'd optioned another planet in the same system, and I hadn't counted on the competition. Then, even after I'd covered the option and posted surety on the payments, there were all kinds of expenses. Then I couldn't lease the mineral rights—" He looked at Mead RV 71


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Rh —all of it? He sat up and felt of his aching head.

"Oh, are you awake?" a soft voice greeted him.

"Ora!" he exclaimed. It was indeed the, beautiful as ever.

"Sh-h," she warned, placing the tip of a finger to his lips, "They'll hear us."

"Who?" he whispered.

"Rapaju—his two guards. They're in the control cabin with father and Mado."

"What? They've taken the Nomad?"

"Yes. We're under way. They've forced Mado to guide them but do not trust him. Rapaju spared you as he believes you more capable. He'll hold you to your word."

"Lord! But what are you doing here?"

Ora dropped her eyes. "He—Rapaju—" she said, "inferred from your action in assaulting him that you were very fond of me. He holds me as a hostage for your good behavior. Father volunteered to come along. He persuaded Rapaju to allow it. Swore allegiance to his cause. Of course he wouldn't leave me."

ARR gazed at her in admiration of her courage. She had been nursing him, too! What a girl she was!

"Ora," he said huskily, "Rapaju was right I am fond of you. More than fond: I love you. I never knew I could feel this way."

"Oh Carr, you mustn't!" She drew back as he scrambled to his feet. "They'll find us. We must not show that we care. Rapaju is a beast. He wants me for himself and is delaying the time only until you have brought the fleet safely to the inner planets and to their great cities. He—"

"The skunk! Wants you himself, does he? Why, why didn't I kill him? But Ora, you said—you do care—"

"Ha! I thought so!" Rapaju stood in the doorway, grinning mockingly at the pair. "The impetuous Terrestrial is up and about. Back at his old game!"

"Please, please, for my sake, Carr!" Ora pressed him back as he tensed bis muscles for a spring.

"Sorry I was so slow," Carr grated, over her shoulder. "Another five seconds, Rapaju, and I'd have had your windpipe out by the roots."

Rapaju scowled darkly and fingered his throat. "But, my dear Carr, you were too slow," he said, "and I live—and shall live—while you shall die. Meanwhile you'll carry out your agreement. Come, Ora."

The girl hesitated a moment, then with a pleading glance at Carr stepped from the room.

"All right now, Parker," snapped Rapaju. "Into your clothes and into the pilot's seat. You'll stay there, too, till the journey's over. Get busy!"

One of his guards had appeared in the doorway. Carr knew that resistance was useless. Besides, seated at those controls, he might think of something. Rapaju'd never get Ora if he could help it!

ADO'S shoulders drooped and his face was haggard and drawn, but he summoned a smile when he saw Carr.

"Hello, Carr," he said. "You all right?"

"Sure. Rapaju says I've got to take the controls."

"Very well." Mado shrugged his broad shoulders and slipped from the pilot's seat. Two ugly Llotta guards were watching, ray-pistols in hand. "The chart is corrected, Carr, and—"

"Never mind the conversation!" Rapaju snarled. "There'll be no talk between you at all. Beat it to your cabin, Mado."

The Martian glowered and made as if to retort hotly.

"But Rapaju," Detis interposed, speaking from his position at one of the ports, "they'll have to consult regarding the course of the vessel. Mado is more familiar than Carr with the navigation of space."

"Shut up!" roared Rapaju. "I know what I am doing. And, what's more,


text: Index:Peterson's Magazine 1856 Vol. XXIX.pdf


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 the Japanese from Babel to Japan; or we may finally think with Thunberg, that the inhabitants of these islands took their origin from the Chinese. So much is at least sure that the Japanese till the time of Zin-mu Tenno consisted of different hunting tribes, which were gradually united and polished by the developed mind of the first emperor. That Zin-mu at least was not an Autochthone’ but from Tartar descent, we think very probable, although this is not proved. From this time the culture of the Japanese comes from China, either directly or through Corea. The time of the first contact of the Japanese with the Chinese lies in darkness. The Japanese chronicles Nippon-o-daï-ichi-ran and Wa-nen-hei speak of a Chinese doctor Jo-fuku, who came to Japan in 219 B. C. together with many other Chinese colonists, and landed at Kumano in the province Kii. Jo-fuku is said to have come to Japan by order of the Chinese emperor Schie Hoang-ti, to seek and find in this country a herb for immortality. There is some doubt as to the truth of this story, which is accounted by Professor Hoffmann as a myth. This however is pretty sure, that in the year 27 B. C. a Corean envoy out of Sinra (old kingdom of Corea) came to Japan, and presented to the Mikado Sui-nin different precious objects. Prince Atogi, a son of a Corean king, brought in 284 A.D. the first knowledge of Chinese literature to Japan, and in the following year (285) a Chinese philosopher Wang-schin (Japanese Wa-ni) was sent out to teach the Chinese language in Japan. The culture of silk was introduced in Japan by Chinese colonists in the year 463. Chinese artisans built in 468 the first two-storied houses in Japan. But it was principally after the introduction of the Buddhist religion that arts and sciences found their way to Japan by many priests and doctors. The Buddhist religion was brought from India to China in 58-75 A.D., spread in 372 to Corea, from which country Buddhist priests brought this faith to

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264 you'll not convene with them, either! I'm running this expedition, and I'm not taking any chances."

Detis subsided and followed Mado through the passage to the sleeping cabins.

HE ensuing silence was ominous. Carr could feel the eyes of the Llotta upon him as he examined the adjustments of the controls and peeped through the telescope. A glance at the velocity indicator showed him they were traveling at a rate of eight hundred miles a second. He studied the chart and soon made out their position. Jupiter was a hundred million miles behind them and they were heading almost due sunward. The automatic control mechanism was not functioning. Evidently Mado had kept this a secret—and for a purpose. He wished he could talk with his friend. They'd plan something.

"Like your job?" Rapaju was gloating over this Terrestrial who had dared to lay hands upon him.

"Yes, but not the company." Carr was disdainful.

"You'll like it less before I've finished with you. And get this straight. You think we're dependent on you to guide us to the inner planets, and that we'll not harm any of you until they are reached. Don't fool yourself! I've watched Mado and I've spent much time in the excellent library of the Nomad. I've learned plenty about the navigation of space and can reach those planets as quickly and directly as you. But it pleases me to see you work, so work you shall. I'll check you carefully, and don't think you can deceive me. Don't try to depart from the true course. The sun is my check as it is yours, and I'll keep constant tab on our position. Get it?"

"A rather long speech, Rapaju." Carr grinned, into the evil face of the commander.

"Still defiant, eh? Suits me, Carr Parker. We'll have some nice talks here, and then—when it pleases me—you'll suffer. You shall live to see your home city crash in utter ruin; your people slain, starved, beaten. And, above all, there's Ora—"

"Don't defile her name In your ugly mouth, you—!"

ARR bit his tongue to keep back the torrent of invectives that sprang to his lips. This would never do! He'd get himself bumped off before they were well started. And while there was life there was hope. He'd stick to his guns and think; think and plan. If only he could have a few words with Mado. They must get out of this mess. There must be a way! There must!

Rapaju was laughing in triumph. Thought he had cowed him, did he? Boastful savage! If he could navigate the Nomad himself, why didn't he? Liar! He and Mado were godsends to him, and he knew it! His speech at the council table had been the real truth.

Foreign thoughts entered his mind. Detis, good old Detis, was using his thought apparatus in his own cabin! He paid no attention to the words of Rapaju when he left the control room. Detis was on the job! Between them they'd outwit this devil of Ganymede.

"Keep your courage," came the message. "I've read the thoughts of Mado and he bids you examine the chart carefully. He's made some notations in the ancient language of Mars. The automatic control of the Nomad can be used when necessary. He has not advised Rapaju of its existence."

Carr was encouraged and he concentrated on a suitable reply. But, though he did not consciously will it, his thoughts were of Ora.

Instantly there came the reassurance of her father. "Ora is not in immediate danger. Rapaju is saving her for his revenge on you. And I'm watching her constantly. A ray-pistol is concealed in my clothing, its charge ready for the foul creature in case he should lay hands on her. But you must plan


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Rh added, with a show of spirit, "You are a bullying giant. Just because you are bigger than I am—"

"Hear that, Jetta? The American finds courage with his coming ransom!"

E shoved me to the ground. Gutierrez grinned, and withdrew a trifle. Jetta avoided meeting my gaze.

"Have some coffee," De Boer offered. "Alcohol is not good for you. Now say: have you any suggestions on how I can safely ransom you?"

It seemed that Jetta was holding her breath with anxiety. But I answered with an appearance of ready eagerness, "Yes, I have. I can arrange it with complete safety to you, if you give me a chance."

"You've got your chance. Speak out."

"You promise you will return me alive? Not hurt me?"

"De duvel—yes! You have my promise. But your plan had better be very good."

"It is."

I told it carefully. The details of it grew with my words. Jetta joined in it. But, most of all, it did indeed sound feasible. "But it must be done at once," I urged. "The weather is right; to-night it will be dark; overcast; not much wind. Don't you think so?"

He sent Gutierrez to the cave's instrument room to read the weather forecast instruments. My guess was right.

"To-night then," I said. "If we linger, it only gives Hanley more time to plan trickery."

"Let us try and raise him now," Jetta suggested.

The Dutchman, Hans, had joined us. He too, seemed to think my ideas were good.

Except for the guards at the cave entrance, all the other bandits were far gone in drink. With Hans and Gutierrez, we went to the instrument room to call Hanley. As we crossed the cave, with Hans and De Boer walking ahead together, De Boer spoke louder than he realized, and the words came back to me.

"Not so bad, Hans? We will use him—but I am not a fool. I'll send him back dead, not alive! A little knife-thrust, just at the end! Safest for us, eh, Hans?"

E left the bandit stronghold just after nightfall that same day. There were five of us on the X-flyer. Jetta and De Boer, Hans and Gutierrez and myself. The negotiations with Hanley had come through satisfactorily; to De Boer, certainly, for he was in a triumphant mood as they cast off the aero and we rose over the mist-hung depths.

It was part of my plan, this meager manning of the bandit ship. But it was mechanically practical: there was only Hans needed at the controls for this short-time flight; with De Boer plotting his course, working out his last details—and with Gutierrez to guard me.

De Boer had been quite willing to take no other men—and most of them were too far gone in their cups to be of much use. I never have fathomed De Boer's final purpose. He promised Jetta now that when I was successfully ransomed he would proceed to Cape Town by comfortable night flights and marry her. It pleased Gutierrez and Hans, for they wanted none of their comrades. The treasure was still on the flyer. The ransom gold would be added to it. I think that De Boer, Gutierrez and Hans planned never to return to their band. Why, when the treasure divided so nicely among three, break it up to enrich a hundred?

I shall never forget Hanley's grim face as we saw it that afternoon on De Boer's image-grid. My chief sat at his desk with all his location detec-


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HOPE, Carnes," said Dr. Bird, "that we get good fishing."

"Good fishing? Will you please tell me what you are talking about?"

"I am talking about fishing, old dear. Have you seen the evening paper?"

"No. What's that got to do with it?"

Dr. Bird tossed across the table a copy of the Washington Post folded so as to bring uppermost an item on page three. Carnes saw his picture staring at him from the center of the page.

"What the dickens?" he exclaimed as be bent over the sheet. With growing astonishment he read that


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 Operative Carnes of the United States Secret Service had collapsed at his desk that afternoon and had been rushed to Walter Reed Hospital where the trouble had been diagnosed as a nervous breakdown caused by over-work. There followed a guarded statement from Admiral Clay, the President's personal physician, who had been called into conference by the army authorities.

The Admiral stated that the Chief of the Washington District was in no immediate danger but that a prolonged rest was necessary. The paper gave a glowing tribute to the detective's life and work and stated that he had been given sick leave for an indefinite period and that he was leaving at once for the fishing lodge of his friend, Dr. Bird of the Bureau of Standards, at Squapan Lake, Maine. Dr. Bird, the article concluded, would accompany and care for his stricken friend. Carnes laid aside the paper with a gasp.

O you know what all this means?" Carnes demanded.

"It means, Carnsey, old dear, that the fishing at Squapan Lake should be good right now and that I feel the need of accurate information on the subject. I didn't want to go alone, so I engineered this outrage on the government and am taking you along for company. For the love of Mike, look sick from now on until we are clear of Washington. We leave to-night. I already have our tickets and reservations and all you have to do is to collect your tackle and pack your bags for a month or two in the woods and meet me at the Penney station at six to-night."

"And yet there are some people who say there is no Santa Claus," mused Carnes. "If I had really broken down from overwork, I would probably have had my pay docked for the time I was absent, but a man with official pull in this man's government wants to go fishing and presto! the wheels move and the way is clear. Doctor, I'll meet you as directed."

"Good enough," said Dr. Bird. "By the way, Carnes," he went on as the operative opened the door, "bring your pistol."

Cames whirled about at the words.

"Are we going on a case?" he asked.

"That remains to be seen," replied the Doctor enigmatically. "At all events, bring your pistol. In answer to any questions, we are going fishing. In point of fact, we are—with ourselves as bait. If you have a little time to spare this afternoon you might drop around to the office of the Post and get them to show you all the amnesia cases they have had stories on during the past three months. They will be interesting reading. No more questions now, old dear, we'll have lots of time to talk things over while we are in the Maine woods."

ATE the next evening they left the Bangor and Aroostook train at Mesardis and found a Ford truck waiting for them. Over a rough trail they were driven for fifteen miles, winding up at a log cabin which the Doctor announced was his. The truck deposited their belongings and jounced away and Dr. Bird led the way to the cabin, which proved to be unlocked. He pushed open the door and entered, followed by Carnes. The operative glanced at the occupants of the cabin and started back in surprise.

Seated at a table were two figures. The smaller of the two had his back to the entrance but the larger one was facing them. He rose as they entered and Carnes rubbed his eyes and reeled weakly against the wall. Before him stood a replica of Dr. Bird. There was the same six feet two of bone and muscle, the same beetling brows and the same craggy chin and high forehead surmounted by a shock of unruly black hair. In face and figure the stranger was a replica of the famous scientist until he glanced at their hands. Dr. Bird's hands were long and slim with tapering fingers, the hands of a thinker and an artist despite the acid stains


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 which disfigured them but could not hide their beauty. The hands of his double were stained as were Dr. Bird's, but they were short and thick and bespoke more the man of action than the man of thought.

The second figure arose and faced them and again Games received a shock. While the likeness was not so striking, there was no doubt that the second man would have readily passed for Carnes himself in a dim light or at a little distance. Dr. Bird burst into laughter at the detective's puzzled face.

"Carnes," he said, "shake yourself together and then shake hands with Major Trowbridge of the Coast Artillery Corps. It has been said by some people that we favor one another."

"I'm glad to meet you, Major," said Carnes. "The resemblance is positively uncanny. But for your hands, I would have trouble telling you two apart."

HE Major glanced down at his stubby fingers.

"It is unfortunate but it can't be helped," he said. "Dr. Bird, this is Corporal Askins of my command. He is not as good a second to Mr. Carnes as I am to you but you said it was less important."

"The likeness is plenty good enough," replied the Doctor. "He will probably not be subjected to as close a scrutiny as you will. Did you have any trouble in getting here unobserved?"

"None at all, Doctor. Lieutenant Maynard found a good landing field within a half mile of here, as you said he would, and he has his Douglass camouflaged and is standing by. When do you expect trouble?"

"I have no idea. It may come to-night or it may come later. Personally I hope that it comes later so that we can get in a few days of fishing before anything happens."

"What do you expect to happen, Doctor?" demanded Carnes. "Every time I have asked you anything you told me to wait until we were in the Maine woods and we are there now. I read up everything that I could find on amnesia victims during the past three months but it didn't throw much light on the matter to me."

"How many cases did you find, Carnes?"

"Sixteen. There may have been lots more but I couldn't find any others in the Post records. Of course, unless the victim were a local man, or of some prominence, it wouldn't appear."

"You got most of them at that. Did any points of similarity strike you as you read them?"

"None except that all were prominent men and all of them mental workers of high caliber. That didn't appear peculiar because it is the man of high mentality who is most apt to crack."

"Undoubtedly. There were some points of similarity which you missed. Where did the attacks take place?"

"Why, one was at— Thunder, Doctor! I did miss something. Every case, as nearly as I can recall, happened at some summer camp or other resort where they were on vacation."

"Correct. One other point. At what time of day did they occur?"

"In the morning, as well as I can remember. That point didn't register."

"They were all discovered in the morning, Carnes, which means that the actual loss of memory occurred during the night. Further, every case has happened within a circle with a diameter of three hundred miles. We are near the northern edge of that circle."

ARNES checked up on his memory rapidly.

"You're right. Doctor," he cried. "Do you think—?"

"Once in a while," replied Dr. Bird dryly. "I think enough to know the futility of guesses hazarded without complete data. We are now located within the limits of the amnesia belt and we are here to find out what did happen, if anything, and not to make wild guesses about it. You have the tent set up for us, Major?"


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 "Yes, Doctor, about thirty yards from the cabin and hidden so well that you could pass it a dozen times a day without suspecting its existence. The gas masks and other equipment which you sent to Fort Banks are in it."

"In that case we had better dispense with your company as Boon as we have eaten a bite, and retire to it. On second thought, we will eat in it. Carnes, we will go to our downy couches at once and leave our substitutes in possession of the cabin. I trust, gentlemen, that things come out all right and that you are in no danger."

Major Trowbridge shrugged his heavy shoulders.

"It is as the gods will," he said sententiously. "It is merely a matter of duty to me, you know, and thank God, I have no family to mourn if anything does go wrong. Neither has Corporal Askins."

"Well, good luck at any rate. Will you guide Carries to the tent and then return here and I'll join him?"

UDDLED in the tiny concealed tent, Dr. Bird handed Carnes a haversack on a web strap.

"This is a gas mask," be said. "Put it on your neck and keep it ready for instant use. I have one on and one of us must wear a mask continually while we are here. We'll change off every hour. If the gas used is lethane, as I suspect, we should be able to detect it before its gets too concentrated, but some other gas might be used and we must take no chances. Now look here."

With the aid of a flashlight he showed Carnes a piece of apparatus which had been set up in the tent. It consisted of two telescopic barrels, one fitted with an eye-piece and the other, which was at a wide angle to the first, with an objective glass. Between the two was a covered round disc from which projected a short tube fitted with a protecting lens. This tube was parallel to the telescopic barrel containing the objective lens.

"This is a new thing which I have developed and it is getting its first practical test to-night," he said. "It it a gas detector. It works on the principle of the spectroscope with modifications. From this projector goes out a beam of invisible light and the reflections are gathered and thrown through a prism of the eye-piece. While a spectroscope requires that the substance which it examines be incandescent and throw out visible light rays in order to show the typical spectral lines, this device catches the invisible ultra-violet on a fluorescent screen and analyzes it spectroscopically. Whoever has the mask on must continually search the sky with it and look for the three bright lines which characterize lethane, one at 230, one at 240 and the third at 670 on the illuminated scale. If you see any bright lines in those regions or any other lines that are not continually present, call my attention to it at once. I'll watch for the first hour."

T the end of an hour Dr. Bird removed his mask with a sigh of relief and Carnes took his place at the spectroscope. For half an hour he moved the glass about and then spoke in a guarded tone.

"I don't see any of the lines you told me to look for," he said, "but in the southwest I get wide band at 310 and two lines at about 520."

Dr. Bird advanced toward the instrument but before he reached it, Carnes gave an exclamation.

"There they are, Doctor!" he cried.

Dr. Bird sniffed the air. A faint sweetish odor became apparent and he reached for his gas mask. Slowly hs hands drooped and Carnes grasped him and drew the mask over his face. Dr. Bird rallied slightly and feebly drew a bottle from his pocket and sniffed it. In another instant he was shouldering Carnes aside and staring through the spectroscope. Carnes watched him for an instant and then a low whirring noise attracted his attention and he looked up. Silently he


text:
Page:Fombombo.pdf/91

 "What can I do for you?" asked the drummer, with brief patience.

The torero grinned laxly.

"You were my comarado coming here from Caracas, señor. You remember, we rode all the way together."

"Sure! Get to your point."

Lubito straightened.

"Well, would you see your comarado wronged? Are you going to see him turned into a laughing-stock?"

"You've turned yourself into a laughing-stock; you 're drunk."

"Caramba! Whose fault is it?"

"Why, yours, of course!"

The bull-fighter spread the fingers of both hands on his chest.

"I! It is no fault of mine. The President did this!"

"Aw, you 're talking nonsense."

"No, it is true, the fault is with General Fombombo. I am no tippler. I am a bull-fighter. That's what I wanted to see you about. You are a caballero, and a friend of the President. You can stand up and talk to him, but he sends me off to see the bull-ring. You know, you heard him yesterday, sending me off to see the bull-ring, the moment he clapped eyes on me."

Strawbridge was faintly amused.

"Is that what you want me to see him about—because he dismissed you yesterday?"

Lubito was only slightly intoxicated, and now his anger sobered him completely:

"No! No! What do I care for his contempt? I, too, am a Venezuelan, but, señor, when any man interferes with my paternal rights—" he tapped himself threateningly on his powerful chest—"I am a bull-fighter."

"What in the world are you talking about?"

title: Page:Fombombo.pdf/91


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 I

, on a morning late in May, entered her drawing-room by the door that opened at the right of that charming retreat as a person coming in faced Bruton Street; and she met there at this moment Mr. Gotch, her butler, who had just appeared in the much wider doorway forming opposite the Bruton Street windows an apartment not less ample, lighted from the back of the house and having its independent connection with the upper floors and the lower. She showed surprise at not immediately finding the visitor to whom she had been called.

"But Mr. Crimble?"

"Here he is, my lady." And he made way for that gentleman, who emerged from the back room; Gotch observing the propriety of a prompt withdrawal.

"I went in for a minute, with your servant's permission," Hugh explained, "to see your famous Lawrence—which is splendid; he was 139


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140 so good as to arrange the light." The young man's dress was of a form less relaxed than on the occasion of his visit to Dedborough; yet the soft felt hat that he rather restlessly crumpled as he talked marked the limit of his sacrifice to vain appearances.

Lady Sandgate was at once interested in the punctuality of his reported act. "Gotch thinks as much of my ancestress as I do—and even seems to have ended by taking her for his very own."

"One sees, unmistakably, from her beauty, that you at any rate are of her line," Hugh allowed himself, not without confidence, the amusement of replying; "and I must make sure of another look at her when I've a good deal more time."

His hostess heard him as with a lapse of hope. "You hadn't then come for the poor dear?" And then as he obviously hadn't, but for something quite else: "I thought, from so prompt an interest, that she might be coveted—!" It dropped with a yearning sigh.

"You imagined me sent by some prowling collector?" Hugh asked. "Ah, I shall never do their work—unless to betray them: that I


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Rh shouldn't in the least mind!—and I'm here, frankly, at this early hour, to ask your consent to my seeing Lady Grace a moment on a particular business, if she can kindly give me time."

"You've known then of her being with me?"

"I've known of her coming to you straight on leaving Dedborough," he explained; "of her wishing not to go to her sister's, and of Lord Theign's having proceeded, as they say, or being on the point of proceeding, to some foreign part."

"And you've learnt it from having seen her—these three or four weeks?"

"I've met her—but just barely—two or three times: at a 'private view,' at the opera, in the lobby, and that sort of thing. But she hasn't told you?"

Lady Sandgate neither affirmed nor denied; she only turned on him her thick lustre. "I wanted to see how much you'd tell." She waited even as for more, but this not coming she helped herself. "Once again at dinner?"

"Yes, but alas not near her!"

"Once then at a private view?—when, with the squash they usually are, you might have been very near her indeed!"


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142 The young man, his hilarity quickened, took but a moment for the truth. "Yes—it was a squash!"

"And once," his hostess pursued, "in the lobby of the opera?"

"After 'Tristan'—yes; but with some awful grand people I didn't know."

She recognised; she estimated the grandeur. "Oh, the Pennimans are nobody! But now," she asked, "you've come, you say, on 'business'?"

"Very important, please—which accounts for the hour I've ventured and the appearance I present."

"I don't ask you too much to 'account,'" Lady Sandgate kindly said; "but I can't not wonder if she hasn't told you what things have happened."

He cast about. "She has had no chance to tell me anything—beyond the fact of her being here."

"Without the reason?"

"'The reason'?" he echoed.

She gave it up, going straighter. "She's with me then as an old firm friend. Under my care and protection."


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Rh "I see"—he took it, with more penetration than enthusiasm, as a hint in respect to himself. "She puts you on your guard."

Lady Sandgate expressed it more graciously. "She puts me on my honour—or at least her father does."

"As to her seeing me?"

"As to my seeing at least—what may happen to her."

"Because—you say—things have happened?"

His companion fairly sounded him. "You've only talked—when you've met—of 'art'?"

"Well," he smiled, "'art is long'!"

"Then I hope it may see you through! But you should know first that Lord Theign is presently due"

"Here, back already from abroad?"—he was all alert.

"He has not yet gone—he comes up this morning to start."

"And stops here on his way?"

"To take the train de luxe this afternoon to his annual Salsomaggiore. But with so little time to spare," she went on reassuringly, "that, to simplify—as he wired me an hour ago from Dedborough—he has given


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144 here to Mr. Bender, who is particularly to wait for him."

"And who may therefore arrive at any moment?"

She looked at her bracelet watch. "Scarcely before noon. So you'll just have your chance"

"Thank the powers then!"—Hugh grasped at it. "I shall have it best if you'll be so good as to tell me first—well," he faltered, "what it is that, to my great disquiet, you've further alluded to; what it is that has occurred."

Lady Sandgate took her time, but her good-nature and other sentiments pronounced. "Haven't you at least guessed that she has fallen under her father's extreme reprobation?"

"Yes, so much as that—that she must have greatly annoyed him—I have been supposing. But isn't it by her having asked me to act for her? I mean about the Mantovano—which I have done."

Lady Sandgate wondered. "You've 'acted'?"

"It's what I've come to tell her at last—and I'm all impatience."

"I see, I see"—she had caught a clue.


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Rh "He hated that—yes; but you haven't really made out," she put to him, "the other effect of your hour at Dedborough?" She recognised, however, while she spoke, that his divination had failed, and she didn't trouble him to confess it. "Directly you had gone she 'turned down' Lord John. Declined, I mean, the offer of his hand in marriage."

Hugh was clearly as much mystified as anything else. "He proposed there?"

"He had spoken, that day, before—before your talk with Lord Theign, who had every confidence in her accepting him. But you came, Mr. Crimble, you went; and when her suitor reappeared, just after you had gone, for his answer"

"She wouldn't have him?" Hugh asked with a precipitation of interest.

But Lady Sandgate could humour almost any curiosity. "She wouldn't look at him."

He bethought himself. "But had she said she would?"

"So her father indignantly considers."

"That's the ground of his indignation?"

"He had his reasons for counting on her, and it has determined a painful crisis."


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146 Hugh Crimble turned this over—feeling apparently for something he didn't find. "I'm sorry to hear such things, but where's the connection with me?"

"Ah, you know best yourself, and if you don't see any—!" In that case, Lady Sandgate's motion implied, she washed her hands of it.

Hugh had for a moment the air of a young man treated to the sweet chance to guess a conundrum—which he gave up. "I really don't see any, Lady Sandgate. But," he a little inconsistently said, "I'm greatly obliged to you for telling me."

"Don't mention it!—though I think it is good of me," she smiled, "on so short an acquaintance." To which she added more gravely: "I leave you the situation—but I'm willing to let you know that I'm all on Grace's side."

"So am I, rather!—please let me frankly say."

He clearly refreshed, he even almost charmed her. "It's the very least you can say!—though I'm not sure whether you say it as the simplest or as the very subtlest of men. But


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Rh in case you don't know as I do how little the particular candidate I've named"

"Had a right or a claim to succeed with her?" he broke in—all quick intelligence here at least. "No, I don't perhaps know as well as you do—but I think I know as well as I just yet require."

"There you are then! And if you did prevent," his hostess maturely pursued, "what wouldn't have been—well, good or nice, I'm quite on your side too."

Our young man seemed to feel the shade of ambiguity, but he reached at a meaning. "You're with me in my plea for our defending at any cost of effort or ingenuity"

"The precious picture Lord Theign exposes?"—she took his presumed sense faster than he had taken hers. But she hung fire a moment with her reply to it. "Well, will you keep the secret of everything I've said or say?"

"To the death, to the stake, Lady Sandgate!"

"Then," she momentously returned, "I only want, too, to make Bender impossible. If you ask me," she pursued, "how I arrange that with my deep loyalty to Lord Theign"

"I don't ask you anything of the sort," he


text:
Talk:Constitution of Ghana

Source for the Constitution of Ghana
https://www.ilo.org/dyn/natlex/docs/ELECTRONIC/31976/101268/F-1229887249/GHA31976.pdf

or

https://constituteproject.org/constitution/Ghana_1996 106.51.61.238 06:02, 25 November 2023 (UTC)

title: Talk:Constitution of Ghana


text:
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148 interrupted—"I wouldn't ask you for the world; and my own bright plan for achieving the coup you mention"

"You'll have time, at the most," she said, consulting afresh her bracelet watch, "to explain to Lady Grace." She reached an electric bell, which she touched—facing then her visitor again with an abrupt and slightly embarrassed change of tone. "You do think my great portrait splendid?"

He had strayed far from it and all too languidly came back. "Your Lawrence there? As I said, magnificent."

But the butler had come in, interrupting, straight from the lobby; of whom she made her request. "Let her ladyship know—Mr. Crimble."

Gotch looked hard at Hugh and the crumpled hat—almost as if having an option. But he resigned himself to repeating, with a distinctness that scarce fell short of the invidious, "Mr. Crimble," and departed on his errand.

Lady Sandgate's fair flush of diplomacy had meanwhile not faded. "Couldn't you, with your immense cleverness and power, get the Government to do something?"


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Rh "About your picture?" Hugh betrayed on this head a graceless detachment. "You too then want to sell?"

Oh she righted herself. "Never to a private party!"

"Mr. Bender's not after it?" he asked—though scarce lighting his reluctant interest with a forced smile.

"Most intensely after it. But never," cried the proprietress, "to a bloated alien!"

"Then I applaud your patriotism. Only why not," he asked, "carrying that magnanimity a little further, set us all an example as splendid as the object itself?"

"Give it you for nothing?" She threw up shocked hands. "Because I'm an aged female pauper and can't make every sacrifice."

Hugh pretended—none too convincingly—to think. "Will you let them have it very cheap?"

"Yes—for less than such a bribe as Bender's."

"Ah," he said expressively, "that might be, and still!"

Well, she had a flare of fond confidence. "I'll find out what he'll offer—if you'll on your side do what you can—and then ask them a


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150 third less." And she followed it up—as if suddenly conceiving him a prig. "See here, Mr. Crimble, I've been—and this very first time!—charming to you."

"You have indeed," he returned; "but you throw back on it a lurid light if it has all been for that!"

"It has been—well, to keep things as I want them; and if I've given you precious information mightn't you on your side"

"Estimate its value in cash?"—Hugh sharply took her up. "Ah, Lady Sandgate, I am in your debt, but if you really bargain for your precious information I'd rather we assume that I haven't enjoyed it."

She made him, however, in reply, a sign for silence; she had heard Lady Grace enter the other room from the back landing, and, reaching the nearer door, she disposed of the question with high gay bravery. "I won't bargain with the Treasury!"—she had passed out by the time Lady Grace arrived.


text: The Outcry (London: Methuen & Co., 1911)/Book 2/Chapter 1


text:
The Outcry (London: Methuen & Co., 1911)/Book 2

{{{!}} class="aux auxtoc"
 * Chapter 1
 * align="right" | 139
 * Chapter 2
 * align="right" | 151
 * Chapter 3
 * align="right" | 162
 * Chapter 4
 * align="right" | 173
 * Chapter 5
 * align="right" | 184
 * Chapter 6
 * align="right" | 189
 * Chapter 7
 * align="right" | 210
 * }
 * Chapter 6
 * align="right" | 189
 * Chapter 7
 * align="right" | 210
 * }
 * align="right" | 210
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text:
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 children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of heaven." This Edward Lytton Bulwer was the infant child of Mrs. Stanhope's only sister Isabel, married to Edward Bulwer, now Major-General.

The new window contains the figures of Moses and David. The inscription is, "In Memory of Louisa Elizabeth Spencer Stanhope, who died March 15th, A.D., 1867."

Before the Restoration two Brass Tablets were in the West Wall bearing the following inscriptions:

"In Memory of Mary the daughter of John Roddam and Lilla Spencer Stanhope who died at Florence Febr. 23rd, 1867, aged 7 years, and was buried there. Jesus called a little child unto Him."

"In Memory of Laura Winifred Spencer Stanhope, only surviving daughter of the Rev. Charles Spencer Stanhope, Incumbent of Cawthorne, who died at Weaverham, Cheshire, January 21st, 1865, aged 14 years."

There are the following Marble Tablets in the West Wall: to Elizabeth Bisby wife of William Thorp of Hill Top in Cawthorne gent., 1764, 74 years; W. Bisby his son; and Ann Scott of Barnsley her daughter, 1779, and Elizabeth Scott her grand-daughter, 1786 ("erected by Jer. and Wm. Scott of London, sons of the above Ann Scott "). One in memory of John Beatson, gent., of Cinderhill, 1824, 68 years; Juliet Frances Parkinson, died June 11th, 1852, aged 49; Mary Ann Hodgson, 1832, 14 years; Louisa, wife of Rev. Benj. Eamonson, A.M., Minister of this Parish, 1813, in her 27th year.

The door into this aisle previously to the Restoration was about midway between the two smaller windows in the north wall, where a buttress is now outside, a plain square-headed door. A monumental stone cross was left in the north wall near the smallest window.

The prevailing colour in the Roof of this Aisle is red, with scrolls bearing "Alleluia" on the purlins.

title: Page:A History of Cawthorne.djvu/109


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has been greatly altered in the interior by the Restoration work. An arched doorway has been made into it from the roomy North Porch; a west door has taken the place of the walled-up doorway with a small window at the top; a high narrow arch has been pierced through the south wall into the extended south aisle; the ancient entrance to the Belfry has been opened out; and the West Gallery which completely blocked up the Tower and west window has been removed, also the lower Belfry which received its light through the upper part of the west window. The Gallery had been erected under a Faculty of the Chancellor of the Diocese of York granted in 1730. The Faculty will be spoken of under the heading of "Parish Registers."

Before the removal of the Gallery, the Font had stood for a short time at the foot of the Gallery stairs, and the floor of the Tower was used for the Boys' Sunday School.

The West Window is filled with glass in memory of Mr. Hugh Spencer Stanhope, of Glenallon in Northumberland, who died when on a visit to Cannon Hall. The three lights have three figures from the designs of Mr. Roddam Stanhope, representing Faith ("Fides"), Hope ("Spes"), and Charity ("Caritas"). The ornament of the window was designed by Mr. Bodley, and the whole of it executed by Messrs. Burlison and Grylls. Below the three figures are three shields borne by angels bearing the arms of the Diocese of York on the south, those of Ripon on the north, and the sacred monogram "IHS" in the centre. The inscription is, "In memory of Hugh Spencer Stanhope: Born the 30th day of September, 1804, died at Cannon Hall 24 December, 1871."

There are several Memorial Stones laid on the floor of the Tower: "Randulph Spencer, late of Criggon in the County of Montgomery, gent., who was buried July the 22, 1658, aged 68 years and 2 months;" "Ann wife of William Thorpe of Hill Top Cawthorne, gent., 1719." Eda his second wife, 1740. William Greene of Elmhurst, gent., 1672; Thomas Yeapp, 1689; Thomas Wainwright, yeoman, 1670; Mary wife of William Thornely yeoman daughter of

title: Page:A History of Cawthorne.djvu/110


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 Mr. Thomas Pickford late Minister of Edall (Edale, Derb.) "Hic Henricus Skeyns eruditus Dispensator Evangelii Christi; pacificus Pastor hujus Ecclesiæ; Amator gregis cujus interitus magnum dolorem ei attulit. Prindpi Patriæque fidelis. 1662." Susan wife of William Greene of Elmhurst, senr., who died 1672. Jonathan, son of John and Sarah Taylor of Cawthorne, 1722, 27 years. William Smith, Tanner, of Elmhirst, 1759. Mary Wood, daughter of Godfrey Norton of Cawthorne Lanes, 1719. Several memorials of the Woffendens of Norcroft, from 1688.

is now reached by its proper door from the Tower, instead of only by the little outside porch and doorway erected about 1815, the entrance being shown as at present on a Plan of 1811, but not in the parchment one of 1816. The steps, which were nearly worn away, have been repaired. The Bells are six in number, the upper three being added by Mr. and Mrs. Stanhope in 1859 and bearing the founders' name, "Taylor and Co. of Loughborough, Founders, 1859." The tenor bell is 8½ cwt. and is inscribed "1620. Fili Dei, miserere mei" ("Son of God, have mercy on me"). The fifth bell has no date, only the letters " S" many times repeated. The letters on the fourth bell are in ancient character, S. It may be noticed that in the Foundation Charter of St. Mary's Chantry it is said to be in the "Chapel of St. Michael" at Cawthorne. The whole peal was first rung at 8 a.m. on Oct. 6th, 1859, by the Silkstone Bell-ringers, who were then instructing the first set of Cawthorne Ringers. Until within the last few years, it was customary to ring a bell here at 6 or 7 in the morning, at noon, and at 7 or 8 in the evening; the old "Shriving Bell," (from the Saxon shrive, to confess) but better known now as the "Pancake Bell," is still rung at eleven on Shrove Tuesday.

It may be mentioned that Bells appear to have been first used in the Christian Church about the fifth century, though the tradition which ascribes their introduction to Paulinus is of doubtful authenticity. To this legend however they owe their mediæval names of Nola and Campana (hence the Italian campanile for bell-tower),

title: Page:A History of Cawthorne.djvu/111


text: Page:The Complaint, or Night Thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality, Edward Young, (1755).djvu/66


text: Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/277


text: Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/278


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68 upon actual parts of the womb well disposed for conception, and at another time dropping into it dispersedly, and being collected into one place by uterine energies. Now, while these matters are unknown, [namely,] as to when the first takes place, and when the second, and how much time is spent in that particular conception, and how much in this; while, I say, ignorance on these points prevails on the part of these [astrologers], an accurate comprehension of conception is put out of the question. And if, as some natural philosophers have asserted, the seed, remaining stationary first, and undergoing alteration in the womb, then enters the [womb's] opened blood-vessels, as the seeds of the earth sink into the ground; from this it will follow, that those who are not acquainted with the quantity of time occupied by the change, will not be aware of the precise moment of conception either. And, moreover, as women differ from one another in the other parts of the body, both as regards energy and in other respects, so also [it is reasonable to suppose that they differ from one another] in respect of energy of womb, some conceiving quicker, and others slower. And this is not strange, since also women, when themselves compared with themselves, at times are observed having a strong disposition towards conception, but at times with no such tendency. And when this is so, it is impossible to say with accuracy when the deposited seed coalesces, in order that from this time the Chaldæans may fix the horoscope of the birth.

For this reason it is impossible to fix the horoscope from the [period of] conception. But neither can this be done from [that of] birth. For, in the first place, there exists the difficulty as to when it can be declared that there is a birth; whether it is when the fœtus begins to incline towards the


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 "That I will hear to-morrow," interrupted he drily, and went away.

The night being far advanced I went to my lodging. I awoke with the first dawn of day, arose, and, having put on my cloaths, waited with impatience 'till it should strike eight o'clock, at which hour I intended to pay a visit to the Austrian. It was about five o'clock when I got up, and the seeming slow progress of time was very painful to me. At length the wished for hour arrived, and I went with hasty steps to the veteran's lodging. He received me as he was wont to do, with great kindness, giving me a pipe, and after I had lighted it he asked me, what my pleasure was: "Speak freely," added he kindly, "I am an honest man."

After some circumlocution I broke the matter to him, giving him a full account of our adventures at the Haunted Castle. He listened with great attention to my tale, and hinting, at the conclusion of it, that I wished


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Rh orifice, or when it may project a little, or when it may be borne to the ground. Neither is it in each of these cases possible to comprehend the precise moment of parturition, or to define the time. For also on account of disposition of soul, and on account of suitableness of body, and on account of choice of the parts, and on account of experience in the midwife, and other endless causes, the time is not the same at which the foetus inclines towards the orifice, when the membranes are ruptured, or when it projects a little, or is deposited on the ground; but the period is different in the case of different individuals. And when the Chaldæans are not able definitely and accurately to calculate this, they will fail, as they ought, to determine the period of emergence.

That, then, the Chaldæans profess to be acquainted with the horoscope at the periods of birth, but in reality do not know it, is evident from these considerations. But that neither is their horoscope infallible, it is easy to conclude. For when they allege that the person sitting beside the woman in travail at the time of parturition gives, by striking a metallic rim, a sign to the Chaldæan, who from an elevated place is contemplating the stars, and he, looking towards heaven, marks down the rising zodiacal sign; in the first place, we shall prove to them, that when parturition happens indefinitely, as we have shown a little before, neither is it easy to signify this [birth] by striking the metallic rim. However, grant that the birth is comprehensible, yet neither is it possible to signify this at the exact time; for as the noise of the metallic plate is capable of being divided by a longer time and one protracted, in reference to perception, it happens that the sound is carried to the height [with proportionate delay]. And the following proof may be observed in the case of those felling timber at a distance. For a sufficiently long time after the descent of the axe, the sound of the stroke is heard, so that it takes a longer time to reach the listener. And for this reason, therefore, it is not possible for the Chaldæans accurately to take the time of the rising


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 he would assist me in unfolding that mysterious matter, he looked seriously at me without uttering a word. Having waited some time for his answer with anxious impatience, he rose, and walked up and down the room in profound meditation.

"Friend," said he at last, after a long and painful silence, "what reason have you to engage in that dangerous undertaking?"

"I have no other motive," replied I, "than to chastise the impostors, and to deliver my servant from their clutches."

He shook his head: "Are you certain," resumed he at length, after a short pause, "that your servant has not been associated with those nightly sportsmen."

I stared at him and replied, after having meditated awhile, "No, it is impossible, the fellow was too honest; and what motive—"


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70 zodiacal sign, and consequently the time when one can make the horoscope with truth. And not only does more time seem to elapse after parturition, when he who is sitting beside the woman in labour strikes the metallic plate, and next after the sound reaches the listener, that is, the person who has gone up to the elevated position; but also, while he is glancing around and looking to ascertain in which of the zodiacal signs is the moon, and in which appears each of the rest of the stars, it necessarily follows that there is a different position in regard of the stars, the motion of the pole whirling them on with incalculable velocity, before what is seen in the heavens is carefully adjusted to the moment when the person is born.

In this way, the art practised by the Chaldæans will be shown to be unstable. Should any one, however, allege that, by questions put to him who inquires from the Chaldæan, the birth can be ascertained, not even by this plan is it possible to arrive at the precise period. For if, supposing any such attention on their part in reference to their art to be on record, even these do not attain—as we have proved—unto accuracy either, how, we ask, can an unsophisticated individual comprehend precisely the time of parturition, in order that the Chaldasan acquiring the requisite Information from this person may set the horoscope correctly? But neither from the appearance of the horizon will the rising star seem the same everywhere; but in one place its declina-


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 Her last is my godchild,—the very image of Hotot, the very spit of him. I wish you could see her, she grows like a mushroom; she will be no fool: there will be do occasion to teach her any thing; she will know every thing."

"She is forward, indeed."

"Yes, and pretty: a little love! let her only be until she is as old as a fifteen sous piece, and I know she will bring her mother in as much money as she can carry. With a daughter one always has a resource."

"Certainly."

"Yes, yes, the good God will bless her, Emilie; and then she has not, for a long time, had any mishap with the men."

"Does the good God meddle with these things?"

"Ah, certainly, you chaps are unbelievers, you believe in nothing."

"You have some religion, then, mother Bariole."

"I hope I have: I do not like priests, but that is all this same. It is not eight days since I had a nine days' devotion made at Sainte-Geneviève for a safe passage of some liquor from Brussels, and the butt arrived safe and sound."

"And the end of the wax candle, have you burnt that?"

"Hold your tongue, you heathen."

"I will lay a bet that you have some Easter cake at your bed-head."

"A little, my boy! people should not live like brutes."

Bariole, who did not like to be thwarted about her creed, began to call to Emilie.

"Come, make haste," she cried; "wait, my son, I am going to see if she has finished."

"That's right, for I am in a hurry." Emilie soon appeared with a corporal of artillery, who, without looking behind him, immediately took leave of her.

"Since he did not ask for his dram," observed Bariole, "we will put it back into the bottle."


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 "I will drink it," said Emilie.

"No, no, Lisette."

"You joke, it is paid for." (drinking.)

"Ah! there are flies in it."

"That will make your heart gay," I cried.

"So it will, well said. Is it you, Jules, what are you doing in this quarter?"

"I heard you were here, and said to myself, I must see Hotot's wife, I will have a drop with her."

"Agathe," called Bariole, "bring a pint;" and Agathe, according to custom, pretending to go down into the cellar, went out by the back door to the vintner's, whence she brought a flask, of which she reserved three parts, and, by baptizing the rest, obtained the quantity required.

"This is not adulterated," said Emilie to me, whilst I poured it out into her glass, "see, it makes bubbles on the top, which is a good sign; I will drink again."

I pleased her much by giving her plenty of drink, but that was only the first step towards gaining her confidence; and wishing to reach, insensibly, to the catalogue of her complaints against Hotot, I managed so skilfully, that the change of conversation did not give her any suspicion. I first began by deploring my own lot, and these girls, when lamentations are made which have any relation to their own, are never slow in joining chorus: I have seen many of them, before the second pint has been emptied, burst into tears and weep like Magdalenes; at the third, I became their best friend; then there was no further restraint, all that was heaviest upon their hearts came forth with a sudden explosion; it was that moment of overflowing confidence, when the exordium is always, "The world is full of troubles, every one has his own." Emilie, who had, during the day, tolerably well washed down her griefs, was not slow in commencing her tale of woe on the subject of her rival and Hotot's infidelities.

"Is he such a rover, your Hotot? fellows like him do not deserve to have wives. To leave such a woman


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 the meeting and the new piece and the lawsuit. But apparently in consequence of his weariness and the strain which he began to feel, he made a blunder in speaking of a certain lawsuit, and this blunder he afterward remembered with annoyance. Speaking of the recent punishment of a foreigner who had been tried in Russia, and that it would have been irregular to punish him by exile. Levin repeated what he had heard the evening before in a conversation with a friend of his.

"I think that to send him abroad is just the same as to punish a fish by throwing it into the water," said Levin.

Too late he remembered that this comparison which he put forth to express his thought, though he had heard his friend use it, was really taken from a fable by Kruilof, and that his friend had taken it from the feuilleton  of a newspaper.

Returning home with his sister-in-law, and finding Kitty well and happy. Levin went to the club.

CHAPTER VII

reached the club very punctually. A number of the guests and members arrived there at the same time as he did. Levin had not been at the club very recently, indeed, not since the time when, having finished his studies at the university, he passed a winter at Moscow, and went into society. He remembered the club in a general sort of way, but had entirely forgotten the impressions which, in former days, it had made upon him. But as soon as he entered the great semicircular dvor, or court, sent away his izvoshchik, and mounted the steps and saw the liveried Swiss noiselessly open the door for him, and bow as he ushered him in; as soon as he saw in the cloak-room the galoshes and shubas of the members, who felt that it was less work to take them off down-stairs, and leave them with the Swiss, than to wear them up-stairs; as soon as he heard the well-known mysterious sound of the bell, and as soon as he mounted the easy flight of carpeted stairs and saw the statue on

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 at you for a Félicité! between ourselves that Félicité is a ; if I had to make a choice, I give you my word that I would give you the preference."

"Come, Jules, you are buttering me down. You are trying it on! I know well enough that Félicité is the better looking; but if I am not so swell, I have my heart in the right place. You saw it when I used to take the scran to Lorcefé; (La Force;) that is the time to judge if one is true or not.

"That is true, you took every care of him, I was witness to that."

"Now, Jules, have I not done all a woman could do for him? The blackguard, one can scarcely keep one's temper! I did it to the injury of my trade. I am sure that no one could say a word against me; a married wife and all could not have done more."

"What is it you say? she would not have done so much."

"To be sure not, but it is not only that, he knows how disposed I am to have children—whilst he had been fifteen months in quod did I have a young one without him? Is not that virtue? and now he would deprive me altogether. My shoe knows what I have undergone, and would tell long tales if it could speak; did it not have those ten sous pieces which passed under the very nose of Bariole? He ought to remember them; but cut off the rope from a rogue's neck and ."

"You are right! It was not Félicité, then, who gave them to him?"

"Félicité! she would sooner have eaten him. But it is always those that they love best," (she sighed and drank, sighed and drank, sighed, and drank again.) "Since we two are together, tell me have you seen them together lately? tell me the truth, and on the word of Emilie Simonet, which is my real name, may every drop which has entered, and shall enter my lips turn to poison, may I die on the spot, or may I be nabbed


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 the landing, and on the upper floor recognized the third Swiss in his club livery, who, having grown older, displayed neither dilatoriness nor haste in opening the door for him, he once more felt the old-time impression of the club—the atmosphere of comfort, ease, and good- breeding.

"Your hat, if you please," said the Swiss to Levin, who had forgotten the rule of the club to leave hats at the cloak-room.

"It's a long time since you were here," said the Swiss. "The prince wrote to you yesterday. Prince Stepan Arkadyevitch has not come yet."

The Swiss knew not only Levin, but all his connec- tions and family, and took pleasure in reminding him of his relationships.

Passing through the first connecting "hall" and the conversation-room at the right where the fruit-dealer sits, Levin, who walked faster than the old attendant, entered the dining-room, which was filled with a noisy throng. He made his way along by the tables, almost all of which were occupied. As he looked about him on all sides, he saw men of the most heterogeneous types, old and young, most of them acquaintances and many of them friends. It seemed as if all of them had left their cares and worries with their hats in the cloak-room, and had collected together to make the most of the material advantages of life. There were Sviazhsky and Shcherbatsky and Nevyedovsky and the old prince and Vronsky and Sergyeï Ivanovitch.

"Ah, why are you late?" said the prince, with a smile, extending his hand to his son-in-law over his shoulder. "How is Kitty?" added he, putting a corner of his napkin into the button-hole of his waistcoat.

"She is well, and is dining with her sisters."

"Ah! the old gossips! Well, there's no room with us. Go to that table there and get a seat as quickly as you can...." said the prince, taking with care a plate of ukha, or soup made of lotes.

"Here, Levin," cried a jovial voice from a table a little farther away.

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 It was Turovtsuin. He was sitting with a young officer, and near him were two chairs tilted up. Levin, with joy, went to join him. He always liked the good-hearted, prodigal Turovtsuin; his reconciliation with Kitty was connected with him, and now, especially, after all his wearisome intellectual conversations, the sight of his jolly face was delightful.

"These places were for you and Oblonsky. He will be here directly," said Turovtsuin; and then he introduced Levin to the young officer, who held himself very straight and had bright, laughing eyes,—Gagin, from Petersburg.

"Oblonsky is always late."

"Ah! here he is."

"You have only just come, have n't you?" asked Oblonsky of Levin, hurrying up to him. "Your health. Will you take vodka? Come on, then."

Levin got up, and went with him to a large table, on which all kinds of liquors and a most select zakuska were set out. It would seem as if the two dozen different kinds of drinks might have offered a choice, but Stepan Arkadyevitch thought good to ask for a special concoction, which a servant in livery hastened to get for him. They drank it from small glasses, and then returned to their places.

At the very first, even while they were eating their ukha, Gagin had champagne served, and he ordered the four glasses filled. Levin did not refuse the wine when it was offered to him, and he in turn ordered a bottle.

He was hungry, and ate and drank with great satisfaction; and with still greater satisfaction took part in the gay and lively conversation of his neighbors. Gagin, lowering his voice, told a new Petersburg anecdote; and, though it was indecorous and ridiculous, it was so funny that Levin laughed uproariously, till those around him looked at him in surprise.

"That is in the same kind as 'Alas, I cannot endure it,'" quoted Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Do you remember? Akh! it was lovely! Bring us another bottle," said he to the lackey, and he began to tell an anecdote.

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 "Piotr Ilyitch Vinovsky sends these," interrupted a little old lackey, addressing Stepan Arkadyevitch, and bringing two diminutive glasses of bubbling champagne, and offering them to Oblonsky and Levin, Stepan Arkadyevitch took the glass, and, exchanging glances with a bald, ruddy, mustachioed man, at the other end of the table, nodded to him and smiled.

"Who is that?" asked Levin.

"You met him at my house once, don't you remember? He's a very good fellow."

Levin followed Oblonsky's example, and took his glass. Stepan Arkadyevitch's anecdote was also very diverting. Then Levin had his story to tell, and it likewise raised a laugh. Then the conversation turned on horses, and the races that had taken place that day, and they told how brilliantly Vronsky's trotter, Atlasnui, had won the first prize.

"Ah, here they are!" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, toward the end of the dinner, turning round in his chair to extend his hand to Vronsky, who was walking with a tall colonel of the Guards. Vronsky's face was also radiant with the good-natured gayety that reigned in the club. He leaned his elbow on Oblonsky's shoulder, and whispered some words in his ear with an air of good humor, and extended his hand with a friendly smile to Levin.

"I am very glad to meet you," said he. "I looked for you after the elections, but they told me you had gone."

"Yes! I went away the same day. .... We have just been speaking of your trotter. It was a very fast race."

"Yes, it was. Have n't you race-horses, too?"

"I? No. My father had horses, and I know about them."

"Where did you dine?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch.

"At the second table, behind the columns."

"He has been loaded down with congratulations. It's very pretty .... a second imperial prize. I wish I could only have the same luck at play as he does with horses.

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 Now! how they waste golden time! I am going to the Infernalnaya," said the tall colonel; and he left them.

"That's Yashvin," said Vronsky to Turovtsuin; and sat down in a vacant place near them. Having drained the glass of champagne which was filled for him, he also ordered a bottle. Either from the effect of the wine which he had drunk, or from the social atmosphere of the club, Levin talked cordially with him about the best breeds of cattle, and was happy to feel no more hatred against his former rival. He even told him, among other things, that he had heard from his wife of the meeting which had taken place at the house of the Princess Marya Borisovna.

"Akh! the Princess Marya Borisovna? She's a charmer!" exclaimed Stepan Arkadyevitch; and he told an anecdote of the old lady which made every one laugh. Especially Vronsky laughed so heartily that Levin felt perfectly reconciled to him.

"Well, gentlemen, have we finished?" said Oblonsky, getting up and smiling. "Then let us go."

CHAPTER VIII

leaving the table Levin, in company with Gagin, walked through the lofty rooms to the billiard-room, and he felt that his walk was singularly straight, and that his hands moved easily. In the large "hall" he met his father-in-law.

"Well! How do you like our Temple of Indolence?" asked the old prince, taking his son-in-law by the arm. "Come, take a turn."

"I should like to look around. It is interesting."

"Yes, to you; but my interest in it is different from yours. When you see old men like that," said he, indicating a member of the club who, with stooping shoulders and falling lip, was slowly shuffling along in soft boots across the hall, "you would think that they were born shliupiks."

"Why do you call them 'little sloops'?"

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 when easing the next cull I make a plant upon, if I open my mouth to him about it."

"Why should I tell you? you women are all blabs."

"On my word and honour," (assuming a solemn air and tone,) "by the ashes of my father, who is as dead as you are alive ."

This Homeric form of speech is no longer in use, except amongst the priestesses of Venus-Cloacina. Whence it came to them, I know not. Had some washerwoman's daughter sworn by the ashes of her mother,-but by the ashes of my father! The words are even more formidably than the prophetic nebulæ which alarmed Fontenelle: they comprise an entire monography. In the mouth of a woman who would seem to be honest, they are always a bad augury, whatever be her appearance or real situation; without running the risk of deceiving her, one can say, "I know you, beautiful mask." This oath, considering the quality of the persons who use it, has always appeared to me so burlesque, that it has never been uttered in my presence without exciting in me an irresistible impulse to laugh.

"Laugh away, laugh away," said Emilie to me, "it is laughable enough, is it not? Come, now, be quiet: it is true, there is no pleasure with him, he believes nothing. May I be the greatest wretch under the canopy of heaven; by all that I hold dearest in life; by the life of my child, which is an oath I never make; may all the miseries of life befall me if I speak of you to him." At the same time pulling forward the thumb of her righthand, the nail of which, scraping against her upper teeth, escaped with a slight noise,—she added, crossing herself as she spoke, "now, Jules, it is sacred: now it is all as right as if a notary had signed articles between us."

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 "Here you are, and don't know what that means! That is our club term. You know how eggs roll. Well, when any one goes with a gait like that, he becomes a shliupik. And so when any one of us goes stumbling through the club, he becomes a shliupik. You laugh, do you? but one has to look out else he finds himself one. Do you know Prince Chechensky?" he asked; and Levin saw by his face that he was going to tell some ridiculous yarn.

"No, I don't know him."

"Well, no matter. Prince Chechensky is famous. Well, that is neither here nor there. He's always playing billiards. Three years ago he wasn't among the shliupiks, but was a great galliard! He himself called other people shliupiks. Only he came one time .... but our Swiss—you know Vasili, our tall one?—he is a great bonmotist. Prince Chechensky asks him, "Well, Vasili, is any one here yet? have any shliupiks come?' And Vasili answers, 'You are the third.' Now, brother! how is that?"

The two men walked on, chatting, and greeting their friends, and passed through all the rooms,—the main room, where men accustomed to one another as partners were playing cards for small stakes; the divan-room, where others were having games of chess, and Sergyeï Ivanovitch was talking with some one; the billiard-room, where, in the bay of the room, around a divan, a gay party, among them Gagin, had gathered and were drinking champagne. They glanced in also at the Infernalnaya, where, at the gambling-table, Yashvin, surrounded by men betting, was already established. With hushed voices, they entered the reading-room, where, under a shaded lamp, a young man with a stern face was turning over the leaves of one journal after another, while near by was a bald-headed general absorbed in reading. They passed quietly into a room which the prince called the Hall of the Wits, and there they found three gentlemen talking politics.

"Prince, we're all ready, if you please," said one

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 of his partners, finding him there. And the prince joined them.

Levin sat down, and listened to the three gentlemen, but, as he recalled all the conversations of the same kind he had heard since morning, he felt excessively bored. He got up, and went off to find Turovtsuin and Oblonsky, who were sure to be gay.

Turovtsuin was with the champagne-drinkers on the high divan in the billiard-room, and Stepan Arkadyevitch and Vronsky were talking in a corner near the door.

"Not that she finds it tedious," Levin heard in passing; "but it's the uncertainty, the indefiniteness of her position."

He was about to pass on discreetly, but Stepan Arkadyevitch called him.

"Levin," said he; and Levin saw that there were in his eyes, not exactly tears, but moisture, as was always the case, either after he had been drinking, or when he was touched; and just now it was both. "Levin, don't go;" and he took him by the arm, and detained him. "He is my sincere, if not my best, friend," said he, addressing Vronsky. "You, too, are more like a kinsman and a friend to me. I want to bring you together, and see you friends. You ought to be good friends, because you are both good men."

"There's nothing left for us but to give the kiss of friendship," said Vronsky, gayly, offering his hand to Levin, who pressed it cordially.

"I am very, very glad," said Levin.

"Waiter, a bottle of champagne!" cried Stepan Arkadyevitch.

"I am also very glad," said Vronsky.

But, in spite of Oblonsky's desires, and their mutual satisfaction, they had nothing to say, and both knew it.

"Do you know, he doesn't know Anna?" remarked Oblonsky; "and I want to introduce him to her. Come on, Levin."

"Is it possible?" said Vronsky. "She will be very much pleased. I should beg you to come at once, but

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Rh ? 3. And the people thirsted there for water; and the people murmured against Moses, and said, Wherefore is this that thou hast brought us up out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and our cattle with thirst? 4. And Moses cried unto the, saying, What shall I do unto this people? they be almost ready to stone me. 5. And the said unto Moses, Go on before the people, and lake with thee of the elders of Israel; and thy rod, wherewith thou smotest the river, take in thine hand, and go. 6. Behold, I will stand before theo there upon the rock in Horeb; and thou shall smite the rock, and there shall come water out of it, that the people may drink. And Moses did so in the sight of the elders of Israel. 7. And he called the name of the place Massah, and Meribah, because of the chiding of the children of Israel, and because they tempted the, saying, Is the among us, or not?

Here is,

I. The strait that the children of Israel were in, for want of water; once before, they were in the like distress, and now, a second time, v. 1. They journeyed according to the commandment of the Lord, led by the pillar of cloud and fire, and yet they came to a place where there was no water for them to drink. Note, We may be in the way of our duty, and yet may meet with troubles, which Providence brings us into, for the trial of our faith, and that God may be glorified in our relief.

II. Their discontent and distrust in this strait: it is said, (v. 3.) They thirsted there for water. If. they had no water to drink, they must needs thirst; but this intimates not only that they wanted water, and felt the inconvenience of that want, but that their passions sharpened their appetites, and they were violent and impatient in their desire; their thirst made them outrageous; natural desires, and those that are most craving, have need to be kept under the check and guidance of religion and reason.

See what was the language of this inordinate desire.

1. They challenged Moses to supply them; (v. 2.) Give us water, that we may drink, demanding it as a debt, and strongly suspecting that he was not able to discharge it. Because they were supplied with bread, they insist upon it, that they must be supplied with water too; and indeed to those that by faith and prayer live a life of dependence upon God, one favour is an earnest of another, and may be humbly pleaded: but the unthankful and unbelieving have reason to think that the abuse of former favours is the forfeiture of further favours; Let not them think that they shall receive any thing, (Jam. 1. 7.) yet they are ready to demand every thing.

2. They quarrelled with him for bringing them out of Egypt, as if, instead of delivering them, he designed to murder them, than which nothing could be more base and invidious, v. 3. Many that have not only designed well, but done well, for their generation, have had their best services thus misconstrued, and their patience thereby tried, by unthinking unthankful people. To such a degree their malice against Moses rose, that they were almost ready to stone him, v. 4. Many good works he had showed them; and for which of these would they stone him? John,John [sic] 10. 32. Ungoverned passions, provoked by the crossing of unbridled appetites, sometimes make men guilty of the greatest absurdities, and act like madmen, that cast firebrands, arrows, and death, among their best friends.

3. They began to question whether God were with them or not; (v. 7.) They tempted the Lord, saying, "Is the Lord among us, or not? Is Jehovah among us by that name by which he made himself known to us in Egypt?" They question his essential presence, whether there was a God or not; his common providence, whether that God governed the world; and his special promise, whether he would be as good as his word to them. This is called their tempting God, which signifies, not only a distrust of God in general, but a distrust of him after they had received such proofs of his power and goodness, for the confirmation of his promise: they do, in effect, suppose that Moses was an impostor—Aaron a deceiver—the pillar of cloud and fire a mere sham and illusion, which imposed upon their senses—that long series of miracles which had rescued them, served them, and fed them, a chain of cheats—and the promise of Canaan, a banter upon them; it was all so, if the Lord was not among them. Note, It is a great provocation to God, for us to question his presence, providence, or promise, especially for his Israel to do it, who are so peculiarly bound to trust him.

III. The course that Moses took, when he was thus set upon and insulted. 1. He reproved the murmurers; (v. 2.) Why chide ye with me? Observe how mildly he answered them; it was well that he was a man of extraordinary meekness, else their tumultuous conduct would have made him lose the possession of himself: it is folly to answer passion with passion, for that makes bad worse; but soft answers turn away wrath: he showed them whom their murmurings reflected upon, and that the reproaches they cast on him fell on God himself; Ye tempt the Lord, that is, "By distrusting his power, ye try his patience, and so provoke his wrath." 2. He made his complaint to God; (v. 4.) Moses cried unto the Lord: this servant came, and showed his Lord all these things, Luke,Luke [sic] 14. 21. When men unjustly censure us and quarrel with us, it will be a great ease to us, to go to God, and by prayer lay the case before him, and leave it with him: if men will not hear us, God will; if their bad conduct towards us ruffle our spirits, God's consolations will compose them. Moses begs of God to direct him what he should do, for he was utterly at a loss; he could not of himself either supply their want, or pacify their tumult; God only could do it. He pleads his own peril, "They be almost ready to stone me; Lord, if thou hast any regard to the life of thy poor servant, interpose now."

IV. God's gracious appearance for their relief, v. 5, 6. He orders Moses to go on before the people, and venture himself in his post, though they spake of stoning him. He must take his rod with him, not (as God might justly have ordered) to summon some plague or other to chastise them for their distrust and murmuring, but to fetch water for their supply. Oh the wonderful patience and forbearance of God toward provoking sinners! He loads those with benefits, that make him to serve with their sins, maintains those that are at war with him, and reaches out the hand of his bounty to those that lift up the heel against him. Thus he teaches us, if our enemy hunger, to feed him, and if he thirst, as Israel did now, to give him drink, Rom,Rom. [sic] 12. 20. Matth. 5. 44, 45. Will he fail those that trust him, when he was so liberal even to those that tempted him? If God had only showed Moses a fountain of


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 I am troubled about Yashvin, and I want to stay here till he has finished playing."

"Is he going to lose?"

"All he has. I am the only one who has any influence over him," said Vronsky.

"What do you say, Levin, shall we have a game of pool? First-rate," said Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Place the pyramid," said he, addressing the marker.

"It is all ready," replied the marker, who had some time before put the balls in the triangular frame, and had placed the red ball in readiness to break the pyramid.

"Well, then, go ahead."

After their game, Vronsky and Levin sat down at Gagin's table, and Levin, at Stepan Arkadyevitch's instance, began to bet on the aces. Vronsky sat down for a time at the same table, where his acquaintances kept coming up and joining him; then, after a time, he went to the Infernalnaya to find out how Yashvin was getting along. Levin felt a pleasant sense of exhilaration after the intellectual weariness of the morning. He was pleased to have his unfriendly feehngs toward Vronsky ended, and the impression of restfulness, good-fellowship, and comfort still remained by him.

When the game was ended, Stepan Arkadyevitch took Levin's arm, saying:—

"Well! let us go to see Anna. We need n't wait for Vronsky. What say you? She is at home. I promised her to bring you a long time ago. Where were you going this evening?"

"Nowhere in particular. I only told Sviazhsky I would go to the Society of Rural Economy. But I'll go with you, if you wish."

"Excellent! let us go, then. See if my carriage has come," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, addressing a lackey.

Levin went to the desk, paid the forty rubles which he had lost at cards, in some mysterious way gave his fee to the old lackey who was standing by the door, and went through the long rooms down to the entrance.

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 CHAPTER IX

" carriage! " cried the Swiss, in a portentous voice.

The carriage came up, and the two friends got in. Only as long as the carriage was still in the courtyard did Levin continue to experience the feeling of clubbish comfort, of satisfaction, and of indubitable decorum, which had surrounded him. But as soon as the carriage rolled out on the street, the jolting over the uneven pavement, the cries of an angry izvoshchik whom they met, and the sight of the red sign of a low public house and some shops lighted up, caused this impression to fade away, and he began to think over what follies he had committed, and to ask himself if he were doing right in going to see Anna. What would Kitty say? Stepan Arkadyevitch, as if he had divined what was passing in the mind of his companion, cut short his meditations.

"How glad I am," said he, "that you are going to know her! You know Dolly has been wishing it for a long time. Lvof goes to her house, too. Though she is my sister," continued Stepan Arkadyevitch, "I am bold enough to say that she is a remarkable woman. You will see it. Her position is very hard, especially just now."

"Why do you say 'especially now'?"

"We are negotiating with her husband for a divorce, and he is willing; but there are difficulties on account of the son; and this matter, which ought to have been settled long ago, is dragging on now these three months. As soon as the divorce is granted, she will marry Vronsky.—How stupid it is, this old habit of dizziness, 'Isaiah rejoice,' in which no one believes, and which destroys the happiness of people," exclaimed Stepan Arkadyevitch, interrupting what he was saying. Then he went on, "and then her position will become as regular as yours or mine."

"Where does the difficulty lie?"

"Akh! it is a long and tiresome story; everything is

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 so undecided. But this is the point: she has been waiting three months for that divorce here in Moscow, where everybody knows her and him; and she does n't see a single woman but Dolly, because, don't you see, she does n't wish that any one should come to see her from pity. What do you think? That fool of a Princess Varvara left her because she considered it irregular. Any other woman than Anna would not have found resources in herself; but you shall see how she lives, how dignified and calm she is.—To the left, at the corner opposite the church," cried Oblonsky to the coachman, leaning out of the window. "Fu, how hot it is!" he added, throwing open his shuba in spite of twelve degrees of cold.

"Well, she has a daughter, hasn't she, to take up her time and attention?"

"You seem to imagine every woman to be only a setting-hen, une couveuse," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, "Why, yes, of course, she gives her time and attention to her daughter; but she does n't make any fuss about it. She is occupied mainly with her writing. I see you smile ironically, but you are wrong. She has written a book for young people. She has n't spoken of it to any one, except to me; and I showed the manuscript to Vorkuyef, the publisher .... you know he is a writer himself, it seems. He is up in such matters, and he says that it is a remarkable thing. Do you think that she sets up for a blue stocking? Not at all. Anna is, above all things, a woman with a heart, as you will see. She has in her house a little Enghsh girl and a whole family, and is looking after them."

"What? Some philanthropical scheme?"

"Here you are immediately trying to turn it into something absurd! It is not for philanthropy's sake, but because she loves to do it. They had—that is, Vronsky had—an English trainer, a master in his calling, but a drunkard. He did nothing but drink—delirium tremens—and abandoned his family. Anna saw them, helped them, got drawn in more and more, and now has the whole family on her hands. I don't mean

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 merely by giving them money. She herself teaches the boys Russian, so as to fit them for the gymnasium; and she has taken the little girl home with her. Well, you shall see her."

At this moment the carriage entered a courtyard. Stepan Arkadyevitch rang at the door before which they had stopped, and, without inquiring whether the mistress of the house was at home, went into the vestibule. Levin followed him, more and more uneasy as to the propriety of the step he was taking.

He saw, as he looked at himself in the glass, that he was very red in the face; but he knew that he was not tipsy. He went up the carpeted stairs after Oblonsky. On the second floor a servant received them with a bow; and Stepan Arkadyevitch, as if he were a connection, asked him, "Who is with Anna Arkadyevna?" and received the answer:—

"Mr. Vorkuyef."

"Where are they?"

"In the library."

They passed through a small, wainscoted dining-room, and walking along on the thick carpet they came to the library, dimly lighted by a single lamp with a huge shade. A reflector-lamp on the wall threw its rays on a full-length portrait of a woman, which instantly attracted Levin's attention. It was the portrait of Anna, painted by Mikhaïlof in Italy. While Stepan Arkadyevitch went on, and the man's voice, which had been heard, ceased speaking. Levin stood looking at the portrait which shone down from its frame, and he could not tear himself away. He forgot where he was; and, not hearing what was said, he kept his eyes fixed on the wonderful portrait. It was not a painting, but a living, beautiful woman, with her dark, curling hair, bare shoulders and arms, and a pen- sive half-smile on her lovely lips, and gazing at him triumphantly and yet tenderly from her entrancing eyes. Only because it was not alive did it seem more beautiful than life itself.

"Ya otchen rada—I am very glad," said a voice, suddenly, behind him, evidently addressed to him,—the

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