Across the Plains, with Other Memories and Essays

e went out for their walk with his eldest sister and Miss Schwarz, and on these occasions Miss Schwarz and Marjorie would talk together in an unknown guttural tongue, very ugly to

s sisters' school-room, breakfasting and having lunch downstairs in the dining-room, but eating her evening meal all by herself in the school-room. She had a black, unrustling dress for the day, and a black rustling dress for the evening, and a necklace of onyx beads which she used to finger with her dry thin hands, which reminded Archie of the claws of a bird. His mother had told

for dinner. On his way upstairs he remembered that he had lent Jeannie the pen that wrote without being dipped, with which to write her German exercise. She had gone to bed early that night with a bad cold, and Archie, recognizing the impossibility of go

eld a big glass in her hand, and was pouring something into it from a bottle. There was a high col

poke English, Archie noticed that she spoke it

was quite a new Miss Schwarz,

e stammered. "I came to look f

and find it. And then say good-night to poor Miss Schwarz. Ach, I am so ill this evening. Such a heartburn, and I was just about to take the medicine vat makes it better. Do not tel

, and he felt sure she must be very ill indeed. It would be a terrible affair if Miss Schwarz was found dead in her bed, in spite of her medicine, just because he had not told anybody that she was ill, and so a doctor had not be

the matter. I went to the school-room for my pen, and she was sitting

t up from her

go and see

er I told you

you begin your undressing,

, he stole to the corner of the nursery passage, and saw William come upstairs and go along to the school-room. Then Blessington came out, and, instead of coming back to the nursery, she went downstairs, and presently his father came up again with her. He, too, went along the school-room passage, and suddenly, as if a tap had been turned off, the shrill voice ceased.

pened?" said Archie. "Is

very well," said

hat mean?" a

ything particular

be better in the mo

they don't feel so. Now Blessington won't be back yet a

of Miss Schwarz guessing that Archie had told of her illness, filled him with awful apprehension

e me till Blessington co

won't. There, let me u

the laces

t Blessington eith

nd there's your night-shirt. Now jump

ire, dozed off. Once, just before he got fairly to sleep, an awful vision of Miss Schwarz's red face

ir," he said. "I'm

*

ng away, and again, later in the day, Archie saw a housemaid coming out of her bedroom with a basket full of her medicine-bottles, and he drew the conclusion that she must have been ill a long time without anybody knowing. Not a syllable of news could he obtain from anybody, and, as the image of M

warz was a typical specimen of the genus governess, who were all probably in league together, and that some colleague of Miss Schwarz's, bent on avenging her, would render his own security a very precarious matter. It was, indeed, some consolation to know that Miss Bampton was a personal friend

secret agent sitting next his father, and she it must have been who had made them all laugh, for she was not laughing herself, and Archie already knew that a joke

ays thought of Archie as a baby. And here's

but certainly if this plump, genial female was a secret colleague of Miss Schwar

a kiss had been intended, presented a sideways cheek. Miss

heaps of jolly things to learn, that if the girls and I have a meeting, as I suggested, after breakfast, I'm su

iscuss what you were going to learn sounded most promising

I go to the me

k Miss Bampt

, in which he had to write the same moral maxim all down the page, and the stupid exercise-called French lesson-in which he had to address himself to a cat, and say in French "of a cat," "to a cat," "with the female cat,"

e meeting, Miss B

" said Miss Bampton, "if

tled at once that he was to do his lessons with Miss Bampton, and from that moment they ceased to be lessons at all. Instead of the lists of countries and capitals to be learned by heart, there was provided a jig-saw puzzle of the map of Europe, and Italy became a leg and foot, perpetually kicking Sicily, and Rome the button through which Italy's bootlace passed. And, instead of the dreary copy-book maxims heading each page, Miss Bampton, in a hand quite as perfect as Mr. Darnell's, wrote the most stimulating sentiments on the top of each blank leaf. "He would not sit down, so we bit him" was one, and Archie, with the tip of his tongue at the corner of his mouth, an attitude which is almost indispensable to round-hand orthography, was filled with delightful conjectures as to who the person was who would not sit down, and who were those tigerish people who bit him in consequence. And then Miss Bampton had the most delightful plans of where lessons might be

(or rather, a triangular Robin, which Marjorie translated into German), begging Miss Bampton to stop with them for the holidays. For she was as admirable in play-time as she was over their lessons: she told them enchanting stories on their walks, and painted for them in real smelly oil-

arth or in the waters under the earth, and the rest, by questions answered only by "Yes" or "No," had to

n his, when suddenly there came over him precisely the same sensation that he remembered feeling one night, years ago, when he woke and imagined himsel

, it's the longest tail-feather

s," said Jeannie. "It's

ie. "I'm not guessing.

pto

recapture the mood that made Miss Bampton's mind so transparently clear to him. He knew what that mood felt like, that falling away of the limitations of consciousnes

p to London one day, to combine the pains of the dentist with the pleasure of a play, and came bac

to your father and mother on

said Marjorie. "But w

orie); there was the rightful and youthful king (Archie); who lived (Act I) in painful squalor in a dungeon, attended only by the jailer's daughter (Jeannie) who knew his identity and loved him, whether he was in a dungeon or on a

dresses, and Marjorie rath

t me have her Abracadabr

ded, remembering tha

s. His faith in the Abracadabra myth had tottered before; this was the blow that finally and completely compassed its ruin, and it disappeared in the limbo of discredited imaginings, like the glassy sea between the rugs in the hall, and the snarl of the tigers at his enemies. Never ag

ingered leaves, weak as new-dropped lambs, made him race round and round Blessington till she got giddy. There was a smell of damp earth in the air, of young varnished grass-blades pushing up among the discoloured and faded foliage of the lawn, and, for the hard bright skies or the sullen clouds of winter, a new and tender blue was poured over the heavens, and clouds white as washed fleeces pursued one another aloft, even as their shadows bowled over the earth beneath. Birds began to sing again, and sparrows, chattering in the ivy

mother-bird from any nest which contained four, and must be blown and put in its labelled cell in the egg-cabinet; but when three specimens of any sort had been collected, no more must be acquired. That, perhaps, was the collection Archie liked best, though the joys of the aquarium ran it close. The aquarium was a big bread-bowl lined at the bottom with spa and crystals, and in it lived caddis-worms and water-snails and a dace-probably weak in the head, for he had allowed himself to be cau

nd, to his horror, that, so far from being stiff, two butterflies, a tortoiseshell and a brimstone, were alive still, with waving antennae and twitching bodies. That dreadful incident poisoned the joy of that collection; he felt himself guiltier of a worse outrage than Cyrus, and all Blessington's well-meant consolations that insects hardly felt anything at all w

aused his mother some little anxiety. He developed a dreadful conscience, and came to her with a serious face and confessed trivial wrong-doings. (This phase, she comforted herself to think, occurred in the autumn of this year, at a time when there was nothing much to be done in t

ed my finger and rubbed it on th

ad told you not to," she said. "But don't bother about it

w more sol

heard Charles singing 'A few more years shall roll.' So I

hed, quite as i

re than a few years before

given now I've told

Don't think anyth

had expressed a wish to go to evening church as well, but his mother had told him that once was as much as was good for him) became the emotional centre of his life, though his religion was strangely mixed up with a far more mundane attraction. There was a particular choir-boy there with blue eyes, pink cheeks, and a crop of yellow curls who sang solos, and thrilled Archie with a secret and perfectly sexless emotion. Only last Sunday he had sung "Oh, for the wings of a dove," and religion and childish adoration together had brought Archie to the verge of tears. He longed to be good, to live, until a few more years should roll (for he felt that he was going to die young), a noble and beautiful life; he longed also to fly away and be at rest with the choir-boy. He made up pathetic scenes in which he should be lying on his death-bed, with his weeping family round him, and

posite the gate, a small boy in corduroy knickerbockers with a rather greasy scarf round his neck and a snuffling nose came out, and touched his cap. There could be no doubt about his identity, and Archie suffered the first real disillusionment of his life. The fading of Abracadabra was nothing to this: that had been a gradual disillusionment, whereas this was sudden as a lightning-stroke. He was a shattered idol, and from that moment Archie could hardly recall what it had been about, or recapture the faintest sense of the emotion which had filled him before that encounter in the wood which caused it to reel and tott

unusual detention in the house had caused him to be very cross, and also had dammed up within him a store of energy which could not disperse itself innocuously in violent movement. Jeannie had gone for a motor-drive with his mother, Marjorie and Miss Bampton were closely engaged over their rotten German, and Archie that morning had been stingingly rebuked by his father for sl

nown as her "work-box," which contained her "treasures." In earlier days these had been a source of deep delight: there was a minute china elephant with a silk palanquin on his back; there was a porcupine's quill, there was a set of dolls' tea-things, a pink umbrella, the ferrule of which was a pencil, a

erest himself in Alice in Wonderland, and marvelled that he could have cared about an adventure with a pack of cards. He longed to throw the book at the foolish Dresden shepherdess that stood on the mantelpiece. He supposed there would be trouble if he did, that his mother w

w out of the fire, and lodged in this same hearthrug. There was a fatty, burning smell, most curious, and simultaneously the wild, irresistible desire of doing something positively wicked enthralled him. Instant

it. He wanted something to happen. Quite deliberately, though with cheeks burning with excitement, he walked out of the room, leaving the door open, and simultaneously heard the crunch of the gravel under the wheels of his mother's returning motor. He did not wish to see her, and went straight to the night-nursery (now his exclusive bed

ng the handle of his door, and he kept q

rchie?" And still

louder and the

door immediately,

do so. He still felt absolutely defiant and desp

ible, his father

als on your mother's

ids

said A

now they were there

of the joy of the d

ut them ther

ave lied to

said

tow pointed

nce," he said, "and

the top of the stairs was standing his mo

y darling-

going to kill him, as Cyrus killed the thrush. There was a whispered conversation between his mother and father and he heard his mother say, "No, don't

ere was standing one of Miss Schwarz's medicine-bottles, and a syphon beside it, a

oment his fa

you were a poor boy you'd have been put into prison for this. But your mother has been pleading for you, and

ipped. Archie felt his heart beating small and fast with appre

said his

sorry," s

aid his father, moving towards a c

rry," said

opened th

e door,"

ed. His father had already a cane in his hand, and he turned round as she came

said. "I'm going to

ted at t

learn yours fi

says he's not sorry. It

hat his father's lesson was, but he felt he was in the presence of some drama apart from h

stylograph pen, shouldn't I be sorry for having injured you? And aren't you sorry for having burned my hearthrug? What

ect. Instead of anger and justice, there was the

to vex you," he cried.

ne anything b

st int

whipped, at least not much; but I'm sorry; I beg your

or three weeks. Now go straight upstairs, and go to bed till I come to you and tell you that y

*

ded being whipped if by that drastic method he could have borne witness to the reality of his sorrow. But only three days later he received six smart cuts with that horrible cane for climbing on to the unparapetted roof of the house out of his bedroom window, which he had been expressly forbidden to do. But then there was no qu

unintelligible thing, though he suffered it rather than committed it. He did it, that is to say,

le maxim, and amusing himself with conjectures as to what other strange habits such people as were likely to brush their teeth with the housemaid's broom might be supposed to have-perhaps they would lace their boots with the tongs, or write their letters with a poker... He had got

lay at his elbow, and let his pen rest on it, watching with the intensest curiosity what it would do. He had no idea what would happen, but he felt that something had to be written. For a couple of minutes perhaps his pen traced random lines on the paper, moving from left to right with a much greater speed than it was wont to go, and the letters

et me talk to

RTI

nd had written. But what they meant, he had no notion, nor did he know who Martin was. The whole thin

ie his copy, and came back at this moment expecting to find the copy

an that?" she said. "I thought you w

of paper half-conceale

else," she said. "That's why you h

said Archie. "

ed with a strong desire for literary composition, and had comp

APT

rer with yellow eyes, a

der me you w

hung on Tu

IN

llably that he was hurt. So, in the hope of finding another such (th

show me; I

had written, but, on the other hand, Miss Bampton, who appeare

this. I wrote it without knowing. Oh, Miss B

, it was Miss Bampton who hesitated n

uilt in the sandpit last spring," she said. "Don't you

e. Also he had a notion that Miss Bampton had made a

e any other Mar

k it's one of those in the sandpit. Now get on with

which held the memory of his waking vision one night in remote days, and held also the fact of his knowing what Miss Bampton had thought of in the guessing game. But those were among the secret things of which he spoke to nobody. One m