Down a side road came a little string of solemn policemen, and threaded itself ingeniously into the traffic. "Stand back," said the little voices; "keep moving, please."
Young Caddles became aware of a little dark blue figure thumping at his shin. He looked down, and perceived two white hands gesticulating.
"_What_?" he said, bending forward.
"Can"t stand about here," shouted the inspector.
"No! You can"t stand about here," he repeated.
"But where am I to go?"
"Back to your village. Place of location. Anyhow, now--you"ve got to move on. You"re obstructing the traffic."
"What traffic?"
"Along the road."
"But where is it going? Where does it come from? What does it mean?
They"re all round me. What do they want? What are they doin"? I want to understand. I"m tired of cuttin" chalk and bein" all alone. What are they doin" for me while I"m a-cuttin" chalk? I may just as well understand here and now as anywhere."
"Sorry. But we aren"t here to explain things of that sort. I must arst you to move on."
"Don"t you know?"
"I must arst you to move on--_if_ you please ... I"d strongly advise you to get off "ome. We"ve "ad no special instructions yet--but it"s against the law ... Clear away there. Clear away."
The pavement to his left became invitingly bare, and young Caddles went slowly on his way. But now his tongue was loosened.
"I don"t understand," he muttered. "I don"t understand." He would appeal brokenly to the changing crowd that ever trailed beside him and behind.
"I didn"t know there were such places as this. What are all you people doing with yourselves? What"s it all for? What is it all for, and where do I come in?"
He had already begotten a new catchword. Young men of wit and spirit addressed each other in this manner, "Ullo "Arry O"c.o.c.k. Wot"s it all _for_? Eh? Wot"s it all bloomin" well _for_?"
To which there sprang up a competing variety of repartees, for the most part impolite. The most popular and best adapted for general use appears to have been "_Shut_ it," or, in a voice of scornful detachment--"_Garn!_"
There were others almost equally popular.
III.
What was he seeking? He wanted something the pigmy world did not give, some end which the pigmy world prevented his attaining, prevented even his seeing clearly, which he was never to see clearly. It was the whole gigantic social side of this lonely dumb monster crying out for his race, for the things akin to him, for something he might love and something he might serve, for a purpose he might comprehend and a command he could obey. And, you know, all this was _dumb_, raged dumbly within him, could not even, had he met a fellow giant, have found outlet and expression in speech. All the life he knew was the dull round of the village, all the speech he knew was the talk of the cottage, that failed and collapsed at the bare outline of his least gigantic need. He knew nothing of money, this monstrous simpleton, nothing of trade, nothing of the complex pretences upon which the social fabric of the little folks was built. He needed, he needed--Whatever he needed, he never found his need.
All through the day and the summer night he wandered, growing hungry but as yet untired, marking the varied traffic of the different streets, the inexplicable businesses of all these infinitesimal beings. In the aggregate it had no other colour than confusion for him....
He is said to have plucked a lady from her carriage in Kensington, a lady in evening dress of the smartest sort, to have scrutinised her closely, train and shoulder blades, and to have replaced her--a little carelessly--with the profoundest sigh. For that I cannot vouch. For an hour or so he watched people fighting for places in the omnibuses at the end of Piccadilly. He was seen looming over Kennington Oval for some moments in the afternoon, but when he saw these dense thousands were engaged with the mystery of cricket and quite regardless of him he went his way with a groan.
He came back to Piccadilly Circus between eleven and twelve at night and found a new sort of mult.i.tude. Clearly they were very intent: full of things they, for inconceivable reasons, might do, and of others they might not do. They stared at him and jeered at him and went their way.
The cabmen, vulture-eyed, followed one another continually along the edge of the swarming pavement. People emerged from the restaurants or entered them, grave, intent, dignified, or gently and agreeably excited or keen and vigilant--beyond the cheating of the sharpest waiter born.
The great giant, standing at his corner, peered at them all. "What is it all for?" he murmured in a mournful vast undertone, "What is it all for? They are all so earnest. What is it I do not understand?"
And none of them seemed to see, as he could do, the drink-sodden wretchedness of the painted women at the corner, the ragged misery that sneaked along the gutters, the infinite futility of all this employment.
The infinite futility! None of them seemed to feel the shadow of that giant"s need, that shadow of the future, that lay athwart their paths...
Across the road high up mysterious letters flamed and went, that might, could he have read them, have measured for him the dimensions of human interest, have told him of the fundamental needs and features of life as the little folks conceived it. First would come a flaming
T;
Then U would follow,
TU;
Then P,
TUP;
Until at last there stood complete, across the sky, this cheerful message to all who felt the burthen of life"s earnestness:
TUPPER"S TONIC WINE FOR VIGOUR.
Snap! and it had vanished into night, to be followed in the same slow development by a second universal solicitude:
BEAUTY SOAP.
Not, you remark, mere cleansing chemicals, but something, as they say, "ideal;" and then, completing the tripod of the little life:
TANKER"S YELLOW PILLS.
After that there was nothing for it but Tupper again, in naming crimson letters, snap, snap, across the void.
T U P P....
Early in the small hours it would seem that young Caddles came to the shadowy quiet of Regent"s Park, stepped over the railings and lay down on a gra.s.sy slope near where the people skate in winter time, and there he slept an hour or so. And about six o"clock in the morning, he was talking to a draggled woman he had found sleeping in a ditch near Hampstead Heath, asking her very earnestly what she thought she was for....
IV.
The wandering of Caddles about London came to a head on the second day in the morning. For then his hunger overcame him. He hesitated where the hot-smelling loaves were being tossed into a cart, and then very quietly knelt down and commenced robbery. He emptied the cart while the baker"s man fled for the police, and then his great hand came into the shop and cleared counter and cases. Then with an armful, still eating, he went his way looking for another shop to go on with his meal. It happened to be one of those seasons when work is scarce and food dear, and the crowd in that quarter was sympathetic even with a giant who took the food they all desired. They applauded the second phase of his meal, and laughed at his stupid grimace at the policeman.
"I woff hungry," he said, with his mouth full.
"Brayvo!" cried the crowd. "Brayvo!"
Then when he was beginning his third baker"s shop, he was stopped by half a dozen policemen hammering with truncheons at his shins. "Look here, my fine giant, you come along o" me," said the officer in charge.
"You ain"t allowed away from home like this. You come off home with me."
They did their best to arrest him. There was a trolley, I am told, chasing up and down streets at that time, bearing rolls of chain and ship"s cable to play the part of handcuffs in that great arrest. There was no intention then of killing him. "He is no party to the plot,"
Caterham had said. "I will not have innocent blood upon my hands." And added: "--until everything else has been tried."
At first Caddles did not understand the import of these attentions. When he did, he told the policemen not to be fools, and set off in great strides that left them all behind. The bakers" shops had been in the Harrow Road, and he went through ca.n.a.l London to St. John"s Wood, and sat down in a private garden there to pick his teeth and be speedily a.s.sailed by another posse of constables.
"You lea" me alone," he growled, and slouched through the gardens--spoiling several lawns and kicking down a fence or so, while the energetic little policemen followed him up, some through the gardens, some along the road in front of the houses. Here there were one or two with guns, but they made no use of them. When he came out into the Edgware Road there was a new note and a new movement in the crowd, and a mounted policeman rode over his foot and got upset for his pains.