THE OLD RULE.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXV, Issue 16567, 3 June 1914, Page 13

THE OLD RULE.

(By CONSTANCE CLYDE.) [Au. Rights Reskrvkd.] "The, world is for tho fit/' said the dugenist, " lot the unfit leave it as soon as can bo managed.'' "Christianity says very differently," remarked the curate. "But we're bringing the new rule in now, Mr Sraythe." '"Tho old rule is good enough for mo," added the curate with pious stubbornness. It was a shipwreck, a real shipwreck, so that there was nothing astonishing in a. discussion of eugenics carried on during its progress. The anxiety area, as it might bo called, was coutiued to the two or three spots where tho boats were being lowered. Further away in tho dimness men who bad no chance of rescue were lying wearily, their heads on tho rails (the ship takes so long to I go down), while a glare of light further along meant the smoke room, where | men in bravado played cards (this sort 'of ship never gota tioivn). Away on tho I first-class upper deck sat the eugenist, otherwise Mallingiordj and tho clergyman, Giaham Smythe. " i'ou want to get where there's a clear dive," said lYiailmgford, looking on tho scene with a practised eye, and tho curate mado no answer, looking calmly on the wrack and turmoil that couid not injure the deathless soul. No one needed his ministrations now, and he had only to await the end \\kh Christian dignity. Tony Maliingi'ord puffed a little fiercely at his American cigar, lus last cigar, and loostd towards tiie anxiety aiva, trhcncej threading in with the hoarse perpetual calling of the tempest, came the'faint shrieks of descending women, 'illj American easily' raised nis voice above the tempest tumult, while the strong chest and rugged face seemed not to know tempest, lie continued his argument. " What a farce! What an absurdity it is! Look at what's happening now ! The unfit for the boats 1 The fit and strong', those that give the world tho best, left to drown like rats._ See that old woman, not a yiar of life in her, yet they're helping her down. That's not saving life. That's cheating death. Isn't that Grant the cripple they're bringing up from below? He'll be the first of the men to go down, you'll seo. Next they'll hunt up that consumptive fellow who's trying Africa, who ought not to have been allowed on board with decent people—yes, decent people. H.alth is the only form of morality nowadays. But we'll change all this coddling of. Nature's criminals soon. Ics, there they're helping the cripple over the side. What a survival of sen-ti.nc-italism!" "Thank God, Christianity still rules the winds and waves as it did of old,'' sari tho curate softly.' . ' Yet he felt for tho other man, too, so splendid in his physique, so full of insistent life and vigour. For himself ho was willing to d\o if his Master willed it. He was ready and would depart, hut for this other, yes, it came hard on him with his system keyed to tho highest point of physical perfection, and his new old nagan belief in the' right of the strong. i Mallingford, the American, man of many experiences and narrow escapes, : talked still, while keeping'a cool eye on the yeasty sea. "By , if I had ; my way I'd begin the new order now. Oh. it's not the saving of tho women and children I'm against: woman tho mother must bo preserved—there was something of that in tho world before your Christianity was # thought of " The curate opened his lips to protest; he had read a little on moral evolution also—'''' but that one like mo should havo to give way to one of Nature's wastrels," continued tho eugenist. "Look, now, none of those officers and sailors except one or two to command the boats aro to havo a chanco of life. They are to stand back, the very flowe'" of humanity, not a hope for them. They will bo admired for their courage in the papers wo won't read, but I call it cowardice." "Would you have them fight for it

like bcnsts?" " By heaven, T would. It's what I'd do myself if I had a chance of succpes. Look hero, my man, when I fight tc keep my life I do what is ordered by the divine law; yes, the ono and only divine, law, of the survival of the fittest. ' "When I save myself all nature rejoices; for I have given to her domain what she demands, tlie one and only thing she asks of us, not genius, or "soul, or altruism, but physical perfection. Wo all stand at the bar of nature to be acquitted or condemned. She has acquitted me. Why then doe* man, misled by lunacy of religion, condemn me; me, who have broken no law? Look out; it's coming!" Suddenly, unexpectedly the ship heaved' over. Shrieks and calls wove less thinly than before with the hoarse clamour of the waves now nearer, the waves that seemed to rise; but it was the ship that was sinking down. Each of the conversationalists had prepared in his own way for the ordeal; they knew theoretically what it meant. What happened to the curate was a disintegration of the whole world as the deck was drawn away from beneath his feet like a trnp-door. He plunged downward, and curved over, by a hairbreadth missing the angle that would have broken his neck. Then a great weight had fallen on him. then another, then another, reminding bim faintly of the time he fell and_ was knocked out in the football scrimmage—for he had been athletic and eugenic too in his slighter way—then he was reminded of nothing at all till he rose an immense distance, hearing someone uttering feeblo laments, and realising that that someone was himself. He was ploughing his way rather beneath the water; he pushed aside a hand that clung to him, but it was not a hand to him at that moment, but a something that was going to drag him down into that terror from which he had escaped. Then he was grasping something strangely hard and safe and voices above him were telling him to let go there, the boat was full. But the someone that was himself knew ho would never let go, not if ho swamped the whole load, and then another voice spoke and he was dragged inside, thanking God, and again thanking Him. But he did well for all that, refused his share of biscuits during tho wretched threo days that followed, and helped them all by his patience and kindness :;s the papers, much to his annoyance, later mentioned. , Tony Mallingiord had foreseen how tho, thim; would happen to him, and chosen, his place well to avoid certain contingencies. It meant a high dive, but for this reason it meant also that he would be freo of those other passengers who, pleasant enough companions on deck, become awkward impedimenta when encountered, all arms and heads only, in the sea. Ho did not wait to be picked off the deck inject-like by tho giant hand of the Kale, but staying for a certain angle to be gained, ?hot clear and swift, cut tine the waters neatly. He knew to hold his breath, and came Tip to the surface with the minimum of the disagreeable. His steady, powerful strokes got him clear of the ship, only a larger wave overwhelming him a moment, telling him that she was gone. ; He swam on, and looked around. He knew, of course, that he would seo nothing. Swimmers in a choppy sea do not scan the horizon; they can no more rliscrn a horizon than a man lving 'ow in th" wheat can see the boundary hedge. He raw hands bebb'ug past, however, wlvcb he, too, avoided; then <rreat black things towering very high "hove him. He was looking for something to rest on; there were suro to bo cates; he had thought of crates on the ship. Then he saw one, a great light

: thing; he swam to it, and caugut hojd ! Even already he felt the relief. i He could now see a little further around. The boats were out of sight: faint sky light broke over the swirl of | the blackish waves, dotted with vague j foreign substances. I It was at this point ho saw Arlington, the consumptive man, bob past. He did not know him for the consumptive man at first; most of the dead things that had floated past looked as if the good ship Britannia had been a first-class sanatorium Arlington lay low in the trough of the waves; his face was as if covered with dull greenish glass, class that constantly broke and mended again. Malhngford made ready to break the feeble wrist should there be a clutch, but there was no movement; the body disappeared behind a corner of the crate; and the nest incident was a weak, gasping cry, the crate dipping down and shaking. " Hold it lightly, you fool," came smartly from Mailiiigford before he knew. The other sent out a quavering cry, and between brief question and answer Malhngford placed him—Arlington, the consumptive. Clinging on to his life as if he had any chance of life I Several of the dying, still feebly conscious, drifted near at this time, but Mallingford did not notice the other offered to yield his place to them. Mallingford smiled grimly as he trod water for a change. No more living or dead drifted past. They were getting away from tho wreck, Mallingford considered. He had no fear regarding final 'rescue, however; he knew that thev were in the road of steamer traffic. It «ns a broad road, and brforo they would drift out of it help would come. Besides, wireless messages had been sent, and almost certainly received. They would be searched for. even as men dropped from a motor-car would be searched for on the road. But he was beginning to feel tired. The water was deadly cold, and even the- most fit may have cramp. Tho man on the other side kept up spasmodic bits of 6obbing conversation. Marlingford sometimes listened; as arule, however, he kept his own thoughts. Dawn was stealing over tho eky. Then suddenly ho called himself a fool, a hiatal t fool. Why did he not get on top nnl rest. He could lie almost at full length and sleep. He knew, as landsmen seldom knew, that it made no difference to his chance of rescue if he waved son-ething or slept as sensiblt animals do. If the shipwrecked chose ti amuse themselves waving pocket-hand'-.erchiefs against a cloudwhite sky, of course they can;, it no doubt makes a fine moving picture. He now realised that the reason why he had not moved up before was because his sub-conscious mind had seen that the man on the other side would thereby be plunged somewhat lower in the water. It was curious how such a thought should have influenced him. . He began to climb, and the crate ' bobb:d furiously, to the accompaniment of a cry. " What are you doing? " You're plunging me down." Mallingford made the remark that was relevant. " Getting on top to rest." " What—what a good—idea! I'll come too." i Mallingford stopped to feel in his ■ pocket. "I've only got a penknife; one can't do much with a penknife, I but you'll find the wrong end of it un- ' pleasant if you try that. There's only bearing weight for one." "And what'il 1 do*"' ho complained abjectly. "Stay below, of course. It's my crate, isn't it?" Somehow the eugenics plea did not seem explainable at that moment; he took refuge in the old claim of landlordism, " You can hold on to it." he conceded, as tho squire might concede a debatable edge cf his estate, "as you did before, but mind, no tricks-——" " Thero won't be any tri-tricks." And then tho lit was where the fit ■should bo—on top. his limbs drying gradually in the soft 'Springlike air, his wave-beaten lunrcs expanding with deepdrawn breathings. His untroubled liver did not feel thirst as yet. Ho was ono of Nature's children, her obedient, religious child; he had worshipped her with tho ritual of three good meals per day and scientifically taken exercise and in the vestments "of sound flesh and unoching bones bowed before her shrine. So now Nature, like any other god, would look after him. So he slept. He was awakened by tho moans of the man below him, and saw that, having moved in his sleep, ho was now looking down at him. It was the first time he had seen him clearly since the wreck. His veins were as blue as some people's eyes; the noso I I was large, r.K it so often is in the face iof tho dead: his eyes were closed; ho had managed to tie one wrist with his ; sodden handkerchief to one of tho crato i supports. So his grasp (still kept him ! in place. Even he made his weak little ! attempt to propitiate tho Nature to whom his very existence was an outrage ! Mallingford stared down at the closed lids that had a grained look. Then he drew himself up and scanned the horizon anxiously. For himself, of course, not for this wretch! It was so ridiculous, go atheis- ; tic (according to his own creed), that a ] man like him-elf should perish. I Then ho rolled over and tried to sleep once more. A lighter slumber came at last. He did not dream of the contests he had had in his brisk fighting life, his service in tho Spanish-American war, his efforts in tho Klondyke, the days on tho African veldt. He dreamt of' his childhood back in tho Milwaukee farm, and his little brother Tom, who was humpbacked and whom he had tended. He had not known thou that it was really wrong to try nnd keep Tom alive ns he and his mother so orringly did; it did not occur to him when he took Tom for rides before him that Tom was really a criminal. He only remembered with pride that he was the only fellow (mother not excepted) who could ! distract Tom when he had a really bad i lit on; he alone could stop his crying; ! only ho could not stop it now; ho was i crying, crying, crying, though 'iony was I doing his level best with the carved faces on the hickory nuts. And then he awoke, and tho felon j below was crying out to him to talk a little for God's sake,, for God's 6ake | and'to hold his hand when the end came. It was just bsfore nightfall that Tony Mallingford climbed down and , told Edward Arlington that he could havo his "sleeping berth" for the night. He'd " riin behind " till dawn, j Then ha helped him up. But when the red sun rose over the heaving sea it showed only an inert slight body on the top of the bobbing crate, and beneath—nothing. They picked him from the crate next morning, still Jiving, but they never ; knew of tho eugenist's defection be- : cause tho consequent illness which the consumptive endured (and from which he recovered) Wotted tho crato incident entirely from his mind. So Graham Smythe reading the list of the saved a few weeks later realised once again, as so often before, the weak and feeble had been miraculously upheld while strength and egotism had found a power stronger than its own. And in this he was certainly correct.