WHO HATH LOVED MUCH

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLI, Issue 22, 25 November 1908, Page 60

WHO HATH LOVED MUCH

By

C. Menzies Miller.

IT was about this time that the semaphore commenced to annoy him. It WAS annoying, he considered, that whenever he would pull a little lever in the little iron telegraph station under the hill, this gaunt black pole would wave its arms at him. It was more than annoying; it was positively impudent. Of course, there were many things that had bothered him during the past few months The crackling of the corrugated iron roof in the fierce glare of the tropical sun was another. Lately he had come to think of it as the ticking of the machinery inside the world. One night he had even gotten up and poured a whole canful of oil into the steaming bole in the ground, where the hot spring had once been. But it did not seem to be of any use. The crackling and the snapping still kept up. so he decided that there must be something quite wrong with the niaehine. The semaphore, however, was another matter. One morning he took his belt axe, and climbed the pole and chopped away the arms until he was quite sure that he had quieted them. Loba, the chief of the two or three hundred natives who comprised the population of the island, was artistically loafing with one of the members of his court in the shade of the cocoanut palms which fringed the beach, lie watched the performance with interest. •‘Huh, - ’ he said, “the Tic-Tac man is killing the white man’s devil tree that waves its arms at the ships.” Now as this was so, and as his companion was a courtier of long experience, his statement was allowed to stand til i eon t radio ted. "lie will surely die,” continued Loba complacently. This also stood, for was not Loba chief, and had not the Tic-Tac man himself said that whosoever laid hands upon the devil tree would die suddenly’ Why, even when the pulling boat had come into the bay. and her men had stood up the tree on the hill, and put a spiky little fence around it, had not half the island died? Died, too, of the strange witchcraft which left sores thick upon the face? It was in the memory of man. The Man climbed slowly down the pole, and came along the winding path to the beach. He had an odd way of looking fearfully from side to side as he walked, and he made a curious figure in his soiled and ragged white pyjamas amt palm leaf hat. The unkempt hair and beard had onee been brown, hut had now come to that bleached straw colour, given by long years of exposure to the tropic sun. It was o bad face, more vicious, perhaps, because it had onee been handsome. 'There was that, too, in the eyes which wasn’t pleasant to look at. lit fact, there was not a harder specimen in lite Archipelago. Even the wreckers and beach-combers clung now and then to some shred of a deeent past. Here was none at all. Hut then reputations count for very little among the islands. It was hard to find a man who would stay at this Cod-forsaken station more than a month, and he had been here now for nearly a year and a half. Besides, he was the best operator in the South Seas, and ♦ hat covered a multitude of faults with the company. As he approached Loba, he limped a little. He had not noticed, in the frenzy of his attack on the semaphore, that one. of the iron spikes which made a ladder of the pole had cut his bare foot. But now it commenced to pain him, and ho halted involuntarily. •‘Why did you kill the devil free, TicTac nmif’ asked Loha As he came up. "Because it was bad medicine, my son,” responded The Man, and, then half to

himself, “ami because the d thing annoyed me.” "See here,” he continued, after a pause; “some day they will come here to plant another one, and you mustn’t let ’em. You mustn’t let ’em,” he cried again, grasping Loba’s arm. Loba drew himself up proudly. “’They are good words that you speak, Tic-Tac man. When they come again we will not let them.” “They will come here into the bay, but you must not let them land,” said The Alan, stretching a shaking hand out toward the sea. Loba looked at the hand that shook, at the wild eyes with their contracted pupils, at the dry lips and skin.' He was too familiar with opium to give it a thought. “We will not let them land,” said he. Then the man turned up the zigzag path to the station, humming a snatch from Schubert's Serenade. When he got there he went to bed. The next morning a German tramp steamer came wallowing along through the passage, she was loaded with copra a fathom past her I’limsoll mark (if she had one), and had a bad list to port. Now, among other things which had lately come into The Man’s brain was a grave dislike of all things 'German. The operator at Singapore was a German, and the operator at Singapore had called him an ass. ' So when the steamer came to half speed off the station, and flew ’ a string of gay little flags which said “H. B. X. F. Please report me to Lloyds,” he took no notice of her. Her captain had a look at the wrecked signal pole, consulted with the chief officer, and decided that something must be wrong. So he hoisted out a small boat, put the second officer in charge, and sent it to investigate. Kight here is where complications started. As the boat grated on the shingle, a broad spear thrown in Loba’s best style took the bow oar in the chest, lie looked surprised for a moment, coughed a wet, choky cough a couple of times, and then fell over. A very pretty nght followed. Another man had a bad stab, and the second officer a spear through the arm, before they got the boat off into deep water. Among the natives casualties were light. Only Maya, inspired by a pair of dusky eyes, beneath .1 wreath of scarlet How ers, dared too liiucn, and was brained by the tiller' in the hands of No. 2. The captain was following the affair through his glasses. He rushed below and brought up an antiquated rifle with which he took pot shots at the fray. But as he insisted on firing at the top of the roll to windward, he only succeeded in smashing a window in the telegraph station. When his boat at last came alongside, he swung it aboard, and cleared away in high wrath. To the man watching the fight with restless, lustreless eyes, it brought the keenest satisfaction. Later in the day he met Loba. to whom he said: “It was good, my son, the fight this morning.” “They did not land,” said Loba with conscious dignity. That night at sundown, Seaforth brought the Nemo to anchor off the station. The. Nemo and Seaforth together, probably enjoyed and thoroughly enjoyed, the evilest name, and the worst reputation from Saghalien to Sumatra. But the Man took an old wig-wag flag which some cruiser had left there, and signalled her gladly. Seaforth was an old friend. They hail been mixed up together in more than one shady deal.

-Pesidea, he knew that Seaforth seldom came liis way that he did not leave him a box of opium, and plenty of gin to while away the monotony of the station. Seaforth himself was in high good humour. In fact, he was gloriously drunk. He had run a cargo of arms for the insurgents into an obscure bay in Luzon. From there he had slipped over to China, and in a port not mentioned in the treaty, had shipped a load of opium for Macassar. Although not bulky this bade fair to pay him a handsome profit. His men, equally drunk and hilarious, were received with open arms by the natives, to whiXi they were well known. A great feast was on—in honour of Maya’s death; to which it must be acknowledged, Maya himself furnished the principal share of the “funeral baked meats.” By midnight informality reigned to such a degree that a free fight followed. Before peace was restored the men of the Nemo had succeeded in setting fire to the warehouses of the French Trading Company. At the time they were filled to the roofs with copra awaiting the quarterly collection boat, and a heavy loss was the result. . , After seeing the last ember die out, the Nemo’s gathered their wounded together and retired on board, well pleased with their evening’s outing.,-. Meanwhile- in the telegraph station affairs, were also taking a progressive turn. The Man, under the first exhilaration of the. opium, was becoming more and more excited; and Seaforth, thanks to his own “squarefaee,” more maudlin. The story of the attempted landing of the morning was told and retold. By the time Seaforth was ready to call his boat, he had solemnly declared between his bursts of noisy weeping, that he would “kill the first German who crossed his path.” He did not quite live up to this plan. But the next day, while in the Carimata Passage, he made out two pearl boats under the German flag. The story he had heard the night before still rankled deep in his mind. Perhaps some touch Of Drake or Morgan burned in his veins. At any rate, he held them up, and relieved them of seme very fine pearls, as well as their deckload of shells. He then thoughtfully smashed their rudders, consigned them in flowery language to

a very warm place, and rang for full speed ahead. Now, all these happenings commenced to be known. The Man, hi a lucid interval, telegraphed the news of the attempted Landing and the burning of the warehouses. The captain of the tramp laid the matter before the first German consul he camel across, and a day or so later two pearl boats limped into Batavia, steering with! jury rudders, and lodged a very vigorous protest. The London “Tinies” came out wit® the following:-— “Serakoa Island, December 20, 190 i—..—..— A German vessel attempted tQ land an armed party here on Tuesday. Theyj were repulsed by the natives after sharp lighting. The loss was several killed and wounded. During the engagement the! telegraph station was fired upon, and Considerable damage done. The island it under British protection, and the motive for this attempt is iniknown. The Secretary for Foreign Affairs»has called upont the German Ambassador for an explanation. Meanwhile H.M.S. Blenheim has been ordered to the scene.” In Paris "La Presse” of the same date announced: “The warehouses of the French Trading Company on Serakoa Island w:ere totally destreyed by fire on Tuesday night. The fire was started by a party of English seamen: from a steamec lying off the beach. No particulars are. given. The French ambassador in London lias been instructed to demand an explanation, and the cruiser L’lntrepide lias been ordered to Serakoa.” A few days later the Berlin papers appeared with double leaded scare heads, “PIRACY UNDER THE BRITISH FLAG/’ and told that on Wednesday night art unknown steamer flying the English flag had stopped two pearl fishing schooners and looted them. The affair had happened in the Carmiata Passage. The Ministry of the Marine had filed a protest with the British Ambassador, and requested full particulars. The gunboat Siegfried was under hurry orders to proceed to the locality of the robbery. The Siegfried wouhl also toiueli at Serakoa Island to investigate the reported collision between the natives and the crews of a German steamer which recently attempted a landing. ' ’ “ But The Mau whose worn out brain had brought the eyes of all maritime Europe to his lonely dot upon the fhap, slept peacefully, ignorant of it all. The British first-class cruiser Blenheim reached the island just at sunset, and found there before hex the Siegfried and L’lntrepide, anchored a cable’s length apart. A string of signal flags was flynig from each ship as the Blenheim swept in. “What is it?” asked Commander Gordon of his signal lieutenant, who was on the bridge with him. “The Siegfried says, ‘I am about sending a boat ashore,’ and the Intrepid® says. Tf vow do I’ll sink you,’” answered the lieutenant a moment later. “Humph,” the commander grunted, “our amiable friends are certainly losing no time.’* The executive officer elimbed up to the bridge and asked where he should lav her.

“Right between ’em, Mr Davis,” was commander Gordon’s instant answer—“right square between ’em.” No sooner had her cables sung ont through the hawse holes than a couple pt cutters got smartly away, bearing Commander Gordon’s compliments to the captains of L’lntrepide and the Siegfried, and begging the honour of their company at dinner. The dinner was a success, and an ‘’’era . of good feeling” soon established. “My friends," said the host, after the last glass of champagne had been emptied, and his guests were preparing to return to their respective ships, “I suspect that the whole trouble will be found in the telegraph station. Let us say that in the morning we will eacli send off one boat, and that their officers shall investigate in concert.” And so it was arranged. Next morning after “colours” the three boats started, and the inevitable raee ensued. “So help me, sir,” said the English coxswain with tears in his eyes, as the German boat touched the beach first, “we’d ’ave beat ’em, but the bloomin’ Sauergrauts ’ad alf a cable the start pt us.” As for the natives, a shell or so dropped in the village had persuaded Loba that “discretion is the better part of valour,” The landing was, therefore, uneventful. The station door was locked, but a brawny French quartermaster put his shoulder to it and soon remedied that. It was very still inside. The Man lay on the floor before the (instrument table. For a moment the three thought he .was asleep. But it was only for a moment. They were too used to .death in its many forms to be long mistaken. The poor, gaunt figure looked even harsher, more pitiful than ever, lying there barefooted in the ragged pyjamas. But the wild look was gone from the tired, half-closed eyes. In its place was peace, ineffable peace. {And on the dry lips lay the jstnile, that knowing smile, which life in fall its fulness cannot give—that gift (found only in the flagon borne by “the 'Angel of the Darker Drink.” One arm was outstretched, and near the hand lay a round tin box half full of some dark green paste. The other hand lay upon the breast, with something tight clutched in the fingers. For awhile they stood silent, then the French surgeon picked up the box and smelt it. “Opium,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Pig,” said the German, and touched the body with his foot. But the Englishman stooped and very gently took from the poor stiff fingers a letter, and a little locket of gold. He opened the letter hesitatingly. It was very short. “Dear,” it said, “a woman’s pride is a terrible thing, and, oh, Love, how long the weary years have been. Is my punishment not sufficient? I need you so, dear. Gome home to me, Jack, I had forgiven you long ago.” la the locket was the picture of a fair haired, sweet eyed English girl. Very reverently he knelt and restored them to their place over the still heart, and covered the face with his handkerchief. He looked from the window for a moment out across the sunlit sea and the vision came to him of another fair haired English girl waiting at home for the man she loved. Then he turned and said with a queer cateh in his voice: ' “Gentlemen, the man is dead. God knows what the evil of his life may have been, but are we gods that we may sit in judgment upon him? We. have in our language a proverb which echoes the Master’s words, ‘To him who hath loved mart much shall be forgiven.' Let ns leave fa preje. fsr suaE Xnroiveaess came to him that in the hour of lit* death he was “rich lieyond the dreams of avarice."