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THE LIGHT
1 THAT FAILED
'Ey 'Rudyard K.iphng
CHAITER l.
So we settled it all when the storm was
done
As comfy as comfy could be.
And 1 was to wait in the barn, my dears,
Because I was only three.
And Teddy would run to the rainbow's
foot
Because he w'as five and a man.
And that's how it all began, my dears.
And that’s how it all began.
—Big Barn Stories.
|r A WHAT do you think she’d do
if she caught us? We
w oughtn’t to have it, you
know,” said Maisie.
‘‘Beat me and lock you up in your
bedroom,” Dick answered without hes
itation. "Have you got the cartridges?”
“Yes. They're in my pocket, but they
are joggling horribly. Do pin tire car
tridges go off of their own accord?”
“Don’t know. Take the revolver if
you are afraid and let me carry them.”
“I’m not afraid.” Maisie strode for
ward swiftly, a hand In her pocket and
her chin in the air. Dick followed with
a small pin tire revolver.
The children had discovered that
their lives would be unendurable with
out pistol practice. After much fore
thought and self denial Dick had saved
7s. Gd., the price of a badly constructed
Belgian revolver. Maisie could only
contribute half a crown to the syndi
cate for the purchase of a hundred car
tridges. “You can save better than I
can, Dick,” she explained. “I like nice
things to eat and it doesn’t matter to
you. Besides, boys ought to do these
things.”
Dick grumbled a little at the ar
rangement, but went out and made the
purchases, which the children were
then on their w r ay to test. Revolvers
did not lie in the scheme of their daily
life as decreed for them by the guard
ian who was incorrectly supposed to
stand in the place of a mother to these
two orphans.
Dick had been under her care for six
years, during which time she had made
her profit of the allowances supposed
to be expended on his clothes, and,
partly through thoughtlessness, partly
through a natural desire to pain—she
was a widow of some years, anxious to
marry again—bad made his days bur
densome on his young shoulders. Where
he had looked for love she gave him
first aversion and then hate. Where
he, growing older, had sought a little
sympathy, she gave him ridicule. The
many hours that she could spare from
the ordering of her small house she de
voted to what she called the home
training of Dick Heldar. Her religion,
manufactured in the main by her own
intelligence and an ardent study of the
Scriptures, was an aid to her in this
matter.
At such times as she herself was not
personally displeased with Dick she
left him to understand that he had a
heavy account to settle with his Crea
tor. Wherefore Dick learned to loathe
his God as intensely as he loathed Mrs.
Jennett, and this is not a wholesome
frame of mind for the young. Since
she chose to regard him as a hopeless
Jiar, when dread of pain drove him to
his first untruth he naturally developed
into a liar, but an economical and self
contained one, never throwing away
the least unnecessary fib and never
hesitating at the blackest, if it were
only plausible, that might make his
life a little easier.
The treatment taught him at least
the power of living alone—a power
that was of service to him when he
went to a public school and the boys
laughed at his clothes, which were
poor in quality and much mended. In
the holidays he returned to the teach
ing of Mrs. Jennett, and, thnt the chaiu
of discipline might not be weakened
by association with the world, was
generally beaten on one count or an
other before he had been twelve hours
under her roof.
The autumn of one year brought him
a companion in bondage, a long haired,
gray eyed little atom, us self contained
as himself, who moved about the house
silently, and for the first few weeks
spoke only to the goat that was h r
chiefest friend on earth and lived in
the back garden.
Mrs. Jennett objected to the goat on
the grounds that he was un-Christian,
which he certainly was. “Then,” said
the atom, choosing her words very de
liberately, “I shall write to my lawyer
peoples and tell them that you are a
very bad woman. Amomma is mine,
mine, mine!”
Mrs. Jennett made a movement to
the hall, where certain umbrellas and
canes stood in a rack. The atom under
stood as clearly as Dick what this
meant “1 have been beaten before,”
she said still in the same passionate
voice. “I have been beaten worse than
you can ever beat me. If you beat me,
I shall write to my lawyer peoples and
tell them that you do not give me
enough to eat I am not afraid of you.”
Mrs. Jennett did not go into the hall,
and the atom, after a pause to assure
herself that all danger of war was
past went out to weep bitterly on
Amomma’s neck.
Dick learned to know her as Maisie,
and at first mistrusted her profoundly,
for he feared that she might interfere
with the small liberty of action left to
him. She did not, however, and she
volunteered no friendliness until Dick
had taken the first steps. Long before
fca tbe holidays were over the stress of
punishment shared in common drove
the children together, if it were only
to play into each other's hands as they
prepared lies for Mrs. Jennett’s use.
When Dick returned to school, Maisie
whispered: “Now I shall be all alone to
take care of myself, but” —and she nod
ded her head bravely—“l can do it.
You promised to send Amoinmu a brass
collar. Send it soon." A week later
she asked for that collar by return of
post and was not ((leased when she
learned that it took time to make it.
When at lust Dick forwarded the gift,
she forgot to thank him for it.
Many holidays had come and gone
since that day, and Dick had grown
into a lanky hobbledehoy, more than
ever conscious of his bad clothes. Not
for a moment had Mrs. Jennett re
laxed her tender care of him, but the
average callings of a public school —
Dick fell under punishment about
three times a month —tilled him with
contempt for tier powers.
“She doesn’t hurt,” he explained to
Maisie. who urged him to rebellion,
“and she is kinder to yon after she has
whacked me.” Dick shambled through
the days unkempt in body and savage
in %oul. as the smaller Iki.vs of the
school learned to know, for when the
spirit moved him he would hit them,
cunningly and with science.
The same spirit made Dim more than
once ti - y to tease Maisie. but the girl
refused to be made unhappy. "We are
both miserable as it is," said she.
“What is the use of trying to make
things worse? Let's find things to do.
and forget things."
The pistol was the outcome of that
search. It could only lie used on the
muddiest foreshore of the beach, far
away from bathing machines and pier
heads, below the grassy slopes of Fort
Keeling. The tide ran out nearly two
miles on that coast, and the many col
ored mud banks, touched by the sun,
sent up a lamentable smell of dead
weed. It was late in the afternoon
when Dick and Maisie arrived on their
ground, Amomma trotting patiently
behind.
“Mf!" said Maisie, snilling the air.
“I wonder what makes the sea so
smelly. I don’t like It.”
“You never like anything that isn’t
made just for you,” said Dick bluntly.
“Give me the cartridges, and I'll try
first shot. How far does one of these
little revolvers carry?”
“Oh, half a mile,” said Maisie
promptly. “At least It makes an awful
noise. Be careful with the cartridges.
“Dick, you aren't hurt , arc yout”
I don’t like those jagged stick np
things on the rim. Dick, do be care
ful.”
“All right. I know how to load. I’ll
fire at the breakwater out here.”
He fired, and Arnomma ran away,
bleating. The bullet threw up a spurt
of mud to the right of the weed
wreathed piles.
“Throws high and to the fight You
try, Maisie. Mind, it's loaded all
round.”
Maisie took the pistol and stepped
delicately to the verge of the mud, her
hand firmly closed on the butt, her left
eye and mouth screwed up. Dick sat
down on a tuft of bank and luughed.
Arnomma returned very cautiously. He
was accustomed to strange experi
ences in his afternoon walks, and, find
ing the cartridge box unguarded, made
investigations with his nose. Maisie
fired, but could not see where the bul
let went.
“I think it hit the post.” she said,
shading her eyes and looking out across
the sailless sea.
“I know it has gone out to the Mart
zion bell buoy,” said Dick, with a
chuckle. “Fire low and to the left.
Then perhaps you’ll get it Oh, look
t Amomma: He’s eating the car
tridges!”
Maisie turned the revolver In her
hand just in time to see Amomma
scampering away from the pebbles
Dick threw after him. Nothing is sa
cred to the billygoat. Being well fed
and the adored of his mistr<*ss, Amom
nia had naturally swallowed two load
ed pin lire cartridges. Maisiv hurried
up to assure herself that Dick had not
miscounted the tale.
“Yes; he’s eaten two!”
“Horrid little beast! Then they’ll Jog
gle about inside him and blow up, and
serve him right. Oh, Dick, hnve I
kilied you?”
Revolvers are tricky things for young
hands to deal with. Maisie could not
explain how it had happened, but a
veil of reeking smoke separated her
from Dick, and she was quite certain
that the pistol had gone off in his face.
Then she heard him sputter, and drop
pod on her knees beside him, crying:
“Dick, you aren’t hurt, are you? I
didn't mean it.”
“Of course you didn’t,” said Dick,
emerging from the smoke and wiping
his cheek. “But you nearly blinded me.
That powder stuff stings awfully.” A
neat little splash of gray lead on a
stone showed where the bullet had
gone. Maisie began to whimper.
“Don’t,” said Dick, jumping to his
feet and shaking himself. “I’m not a
bit hurt."
“No. but I might have killed you,”
protested Maisie, the corners of her
moutli drooping. “What should I have
done then?”
“Gone home and told Mrs. Jennett.”
Dick grinned at the thought; then,
softening: “Please don't worry about
it. Besides, we are wasting time. We’ve
got to get back to tea. I’ll takd the re
volver a bit.”
Maisie would have wept on the least
encouragement, but Dick's indifference,
albeit his hand was shaking as he
picked up the pistol, restrained her.
She lay panting on the beach while
Dick methodically bombarded the
breakwater. “Got It at last!” he ex
claimed as a lock of weed flew from
the wood.
“Let me try,” said Maisie Imperious
ly. “I’m all right now.” They fired in
turns till the rickety lfttle revolver
nearly shook Itself to pieces, and Am
omma the outcast—because he might
blow up at any moment—browsed in
the background and wondered why
stones were thrown at him. Then they
found a balk of timber floating in a
pool which was commanded by the sea
ward slope of Fort Keeling, and they
sat down together before this new tar
get.
“Next holidays,” said Dick as the
now thoroughly fouled revolver kicked
wildly in his hand, "we’ll get another
pistol, central lire, will carry
farther.”
“There won’t be any next holidays
for me,” said Maisie. “I’m going
away.”
“Where to?”
“I don’t know. My lawyers have writ
ten to Mrs. Jennett, and I've got to be
educated somewhere —in France, per
haps—l don’t know where, but I shall
be glad to go away.”
“I shan’t like it a bit. I suppose I
shall be left. Look here, Maisie, is it
really true you’re going? Then these
holidays will be the last I shall see
anything of you; and I go back to
school next week. I wish” —
The young blood turned his cheeks
scarlet. Maisie was picking grass tufts
and throwing them down the slope at
a yellow sea poppy nodding all by it
self to the illimitable levels of the mud
flats and the milk white sea beyond.
“I wish,” she said after a pause,
“that 1 could see you again some time.
You wish that too?”
“Yes, but it would have been better
if—if—you had—shot straight over
there —down by the breakwater.”
Maisie looked with large eyes for
a moment And this was the boy who
only ten days before had decorated
Amomma’s horns with cut paper ham
frills and turned him out a bearded
derision among the public ways! Then
she dropped her eyes. This was not
the boy.
“Don't be stupid,” she said reprov
ingly, and with swift instinct attacked
the side issue. “How selfish you are!
Just think what I should have felt if
that horrid thing had killed you! I’m
quite miserable enough already.”
“Why? Because you’re going away
from Mrs. Jennett?”
“Mo.”
“From me then?”
No answer for a long time. Dick
dared not look at her. He felt, though
he did not know, all that the past four
years had been to him, and this the
more acutely since he had no knowl
edge to put his feelings in words.
“1 don’t know,” she said. “I sup
pose it is.”
“Maisie, you must know. I’m not
supposing.”
“Let’s go home,” said Maisie weakly.
But Dick was not minded to retreat
“I can’t say things.” he pleaded, “and
I’m awfully sorry for teasing you
about Arnomma the other day. It’s
all different now, Maisie, can’t you
see? And you might have told me
that you were going instead of leaving
me to find out”
“You didn’t. I did tell. Oh, Dick,
what’s the use of worrying?”
“There isn’t any. But we’ve been to
gether years and years, and I didn’t
know how much I cared.”
“I don’t believe you ever did care.”
“No, I didn’t but I do. I care awful
ly now. Maisie,” he gulped. “Maisie.
darling, say you care, too, please.”
“I do. Indeed I do, but it won’t be
any use.”
“Why?”
“Because I am going away.”
"Yes, but if you promise hofor- yon
go. Only say—will yon?” A second
“darling” came to his lips more easily
than the fiixf. There were few endear
meats in Dick's home or ,- ltooi life
He had to find fh-m t\v Insfim-t Ice!
took the little hand, blackened with
the escaped gas of the revolver.
“I promise,” she said solemnly, “but
if 1 care there is no need for promis
ing.”
"And do you care?" For the first
time in the past few minutes their eyes
met and spoke for them who had no
skill in speech.
“Oh, Dick, don’t—please don’t! It
was all right when we said good morn
ing, but now it's all different.” Arnoin
ma looked on from afar. He had seen
his property quarrel frequently, but
he had never seen kisses exchanged
before. The yellow sea poppy was
wiser and nodded its head approving
ly. Considered as a kiss, that was a
failure; but since it was the first, other
than those demanded liy duty, in all
the world that either had ever given or
taken, it opened to them new worlds,
and every one of them glorious, so that
they were lifted above the considera
tion of any worlds at all. especially
those in which tea is a necessity, and
sat still, holding each other's hands
and saying not a word. *
“You can't forget now,” said Dick at
last. There was that on his cheek that
stung more than gunpowder.
“I shouldn’t have forgotten, any
how,” said Maisie, and they looked at
each other and saw that each was
changed from the companion of an
hour ago to a wonder and a mystery
they could not understand. The sun
began to set. and a night wind thrashed
along the bents of the foreshore.
“We shall be awfully late for tea,”
said Maisie. “Let’s go home.”
“Let’s use the rest of the cartridges
first,” said Dick, and he helped Maisie
down the slope of the fort to the sea,
a descent she was quite capable of ac
complishing at full speed. Equally
gravely Maisie took the grimy hand.
Dick bent forward clumsily. Maisie
drew her hand away, and Dick blushed.
“It’s very pretty,” he said.
“rooh!” said Maisie, with a little
laugh of gratified vanity. She stood
close to Dick as he loaded the revolver
for the last time and fired across the
sea with a vague notion at the back of
his head that he was protecting Maisie
from all the evils of the world. A pud
dle far across the mud caught the last
rays of the sun and turned into a
wrathful red disk. The light held
Dick’s attention for a moment and as
he raised his revolver there fell upon
him a renewed sense of the miraculous,
in that he was standing by Maisie, who
had promised to care for him for an in
definite length of time till such date
as— A gust of the growing wind drove
the girl’s long black hair across his
face as she stood with her hand on his
shoulder calling Amomma “a little
beast,” and for a moment he was in the
dark —a darkness that stung. The bul
let w T ent singing out to the empty sea.
“Spoiled my aim,” said he, shaking
his head. “There aren’t any more car
tridges. We shall have to run home.”
But they did not run. They walked
very slowly arm in arm. And it was a
matter‘of indifference to them w T hether
the neglected Amomma, with two pin
fire cartridges in his inside, blew up
or trotted beside them, for they had
come into a golden heritage and were
disposing of it with ail the wisdom of
their years.
“And I shall be”— quoth Dick valiant
ly. Then he checked himself. “I don’t
know what I shall be. I don’t seem to
be able to pass any exams., but I can
make awful caricatures of the master.
Ho, ho!”
“Be an artist, then,” said Maisie.
“You're always laughing at my trying
to draw, and it will do you good.”
“I’ll never laugh at anything you do,”
he answered. “I’ll be an artist, and I’ll
do things.”
“Artists always want money, don’t
they ?”
“I’ve got £l2O a year of my own. My
guardians tell me I'm to have it -when
I come of age. That will be enough to
begin with.”
“Ah, I’m rich,” said Maisie. “I’ve
got £3OO a year all my own when I’m
twenty-one. That is why Mrs. Jennett
is kinder to me than she is to you. I
wish, though, that I had somebody that
belonged to me—just a father or a
mother.”
“You belong to me,” said Dick, “for
ever and ever.”
“I know I do. It’s very nice.” She
squeezed his arm. The kindly darkness
hid them both, and, emboldened be
cause he could only just see the profile
of Maisie’S cheek, with the long lashes
veiling the gray eyes, Dick at the front
door delivered himself of the words he
had been boggling over for the last two
hours.
“And I—l love you, Maisie,” he said
in a whisper that seemed to him to ring
across the w r orld—the world that he
would tomorrow or the next day set
out and conquer.
There was a scene, not, for the sake
of discipline, to be reported, when Mrs.
Jennett would have fallen upon him,
first for disgraceful unpunctuality, and
secondly for nearly killing himself with
a forbidden weapon.
“I was playing with it, and it went
off by itself,” said Dick when the pow
der packed cheek could no longer be
hidden, “but if you think you're going
to lick me you’re wrong. You are never
going to touch me again. Sit down and
give me my tea. You can’t cheat us
out of that anyhow.”
Mrs. Jennett gasped and became
livid. Maisie said nothing, but en
couraged Dick with her eyes, and he
behaved abominably all that evening.
Mrs. Jennett prophesied an immediate
Judgment of Providence and a descent
Into Tophet later. But Dick walked
in paradise and would not hear. Only
when he was going to Led Mrs. Jen
nett recovered and asserted herself.
He had hidden Maisie good night with
down dropped eyes and from a dis
tance.
“If you aren’t a gentleman, you
might try to behave like one,” said
Mrs. Jennett spitefully. You’ve been
quarreling with Maisie again.”
This meant that the regulation good
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night kiss had been omitted. Maisie,
white to the lips, thrust her cheek for
ward with a fine air of indifference
and was duly pecked by Dick, who
tramped out of the room red as fire.
That night he dreamed a wild dream.
He had won all the world and brought
it to Maisie in a cartridge box, but she
turned it over with her foot and in
stead of saying, “Thank you,” cried:
“Where is the brass collar you prom
ised for Amomma? Oh, how selfish
you are!”
' ■ tfu. .. _ v-S-JP
[to be continued.]
RUDYARD KIPLING
Our next story will be
The Light That Failed
By Kipling* It is one of his
best stories and will be enjoyed
by our readers.
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W. S. Ledbetter, of Shreveport, La.,
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