THE TRAITOR IN THE HOUSE
The Guest, who came from beyond the lake, had lived in the house for years and had the freedom of it, so that he had become quite like a member of the family. He was friendly treated and well lodged.
Indeed, some thought he had the best room of all, for though it was in the wing, it was s.p.a.cious and well warmed, and had a side door, so that he could go in and out freely by day or night.
It must be said that he had earned his living on the place, being industrious and useful, a very handy man about the house; and the children had a liking for him because he sang merry songs and told beautiful fairy-tales.
So he was all the more surprised and aggrieved when the Master of the house said to him one night, as they sat late by the fire:
"I suspect you."
"But of what?" cried the Guest.
"Of caring more for the house that you came from than for the house that you live in."
"But you know I was at home there once," said the Guest, "would you have me forget that? Surely you will not deny me the freedom of my thoughts and memories and fond feelings. Would you make me less than a man?"
"No," said the Master, "but I will ask you to choose between your old home and your new home now. The house in which you lived formerly is become our enemy--a nest of brigands and b.l.o.o.d.y men. They have killed a child of ours on the highway. They threaten us to-night with an attack in force. Tell me plainly where you stand."
The Guest looked down his nose toward the smouldering embers of the fire. He knocked out the dottle of his pipe on one of the andirons.
Two fat tears rolled down his cheeks; he was very sentimental.
"I am with you," he said.
"Good," said the Master, "now let us make the house fast!"
[Ill.u.s.tration with caption: "I will ask you to choose between your old home and your new home now"]
So they closed and barred the shutters and locked and bolted the front door.
Then they lighted their bedroom candles and bade each other good night.
But as the Guest went along his dim corridor, the Master turned and followed him very softly on tiptoe, watching.
Outside the house, in the darkness, there was a sound of many shuffling feet and whispering voices.
When the Guest came to the side door he tried the latch, to see that it was working freely. He moved the bolt, not forward into its socket, but backward so that it should be no hindrance. In the window beside the doorway he set his candle. So the house was ready for late-comers.
Then the Guest sighed a little. "They are my old friends," he murmured, "my dear old friends! I could not leave them out in the cold. I am not responsible for what they do. Only I must my old affection prove." So he sighed again and turned softly to his bed.
But as he turned the Master stood before him and took him by the throat.
"Traitor!" he cried. "You would betray the innocent. Already your soul is stained with my sleeping children"s blood." And with his hands he choked the false Guest to death.
Then he shot the bolt of the side door, and barred the window, and called the servants, and made ready to defend the house.
Great was the fighting that night. In the morning, when the robbers were driven off, the false Guest was buried, outside the garden, in an unmarked grave.
February 2, 1918.
JUSTICE OF THE ELEMENTS
So the Criminal with a Crown came to the end of his resources. He had told his last lie, but not even his servants would believe it.
He had made his last threat, but no living soul feared it. He had put forth his last stroke of violence and cruelty, but it fell short.
When he saw his own image reflected in the eyes of men, and knew what he had done to the world and what had come of his evil design, he was afraid, and cried, "Let the Earth swallow me!" And the Earth opened, and swallowed him.
But so great was the harm that he had wrought upon the Earth, and so deeply had he drenched it with blood, that it could not contain him. So the Earth opened again, and spewed him forth.
Then he cried, "Let the Sea hide me!" And the waves rolled over his head.
But the Sea, whereon he had wrought iniquity, and filled the depths thereof with the bones of the innocent, could not endure him and threw him up on the sh.o.r.e as refuse.
Then he cried, "Let the Air carry me away!" And the strong winds blew, and lifted him up so that he felt exalted.
But the pure Air, wherein he had let loose the vultures of hate, dropping death upon helpless women and harmless babes, found the burden and the stench of him intolerable, and let him fall.
And as he was falling he cried, "Let the Fire give me a refuge!"
So the Fire, wherewith he had consumed the homes of men, rejoiced; and the flames which he had compelled to do his will in wickedness leaped up as he drew near.
"Welcome, old master!" roared the Fire. "Be my slave!"
Then he perceived that there was no hope for him in the justice of the elements. And he said, "I will seek mercy of Him against whom I have most offended."
So he fled to the foot of the Great White Throne. And as he kneeled there, broken and abased, the world was silent, waiting for the sentence of the Judge of All.
August, 1918.
ASHES OF VENGEANCE
Dun was a hard little city, proud and harsh; but impregnable because it was built upon a high rock. The host of the Visigoths had besieged it for months in vain. Then came a fugitive from the city, at midnight, to the tent of Alaric, the Chief of the besiegers.
The man was haggard and torn. His eyes were wild, his hands trembling.