by A S Neill
"Listen to Dr Neill", laughed Michael.
"99", said Pyecraft, "has always been my unlucky number. I lost my girl in '99. 99 was the number of my office, the one that burned down uninsured. My fortune was 99 millions."
"How was that unlucky?" asked Evelyn.
"Try as I might I could never made it the 100", he said. "Besides, it is easy to score a bull's-eye on a figure like mine."
They found Pyecraft dead at the front gate next morning. He had been shot through the heart. As they stooped to examine him a shot took David's cap off. They had to run for it. They got inside and barred the doors. They were all heavy with grief, for they had all loved Pyecraft. Evelyn was inconsolable, and even the manly Robert shed bitter tears.
"To think that such a decent chap as old Pyecraft should be done in by a filthy crowd of toughs like that !" he sobbed. "By God, they will pay dearly for this! Here, lads, hold up your hands. I want you to take an oath. Say after me: I hereby declare that I shall avenge Pyecraft's death, even if in doing so I meet my own end." And the boys swore the oath, and the girls insisted on swearing it too . They were startled by the ringing of the telephone-bell, a faint ring because the wet batteries were weak. Neill lifted the receiver.
"99 speaking. We've shown you wot we can do. 65 was a prizeman at Bisley in the old days, but it was me got the fat johnny. Wot about coming to terms? We offers you a fair deal. We live in the house and the kids can be our servants and we won't be too hard on them."
"Else ?"
"If you don't agree, then we'll kill you all."
"I hope you get a fine day for it", said Neill, who always was accustomed to show much bravery at the telephone. And he replaced the receiver.
He recounted the telephone conversation.
Michael the Bolshie said: "So they want the old order? A privileged class being served by an exploited proletariat without even wages. Back to slavery. I prefer death."
"Politics don't interest me", said Robert. "My one and only interest now is to avenge the death of poor Pyecraft. They are six; we are eight."
"Nine", corrected Neill, "you eight and me."
"I was only thinking of effectives", said Robert.
"Look here", began Neill truculently, "am I in this fight or not ? Because if you don't want me I can join the other side. Why should you get all the avenging to do ? I knew Pyecraft long before you did."
"That may be," said Robert, "but you must admit that, in the past, you haven't helped us much in our battles. You swung the lead, dodged the column. The long and the short of it is that we haven't any faith in you as a fighter."
"OK", said Neill bitterly. "OK. Then my role is a passive one. I shall be the looker-on, the war correspondent so to say: The Times special correspondent in Riga. But, mark my words, you'll be glad of my help one day soon."
So Neill walked around the house while the children manned the windows and doors. He kept their warlike spirit up by pretending to be the GOC inspecting the forces.
"Hoy, you, big fellow", he would say to Michael, "clean your buttons this morning? Take his name, sergeant. Give him pack drill", and Michael would look murderous. Robert suggested that Neill should be tried by court-martial for Trotskyism and sabotage, but David asked wearily why waste a good cartridge on a traitor.
"Traitor !" laughed Neill scornfully. "You are the traitors. I offered a United Front, but you Social Democrats and British Labour Leaders rejected my offer. Just like the Anarchists were in Spain, you are."
"It isn't a case of politics", said Gordon, "it is simply that you are no use. You have never shown us that you can shoot straight."
"So that's it", said Neill. "That can soon be remedied. Stand back from that wall." He drew his automatic and wrote his name on the wall. The children gasped. "Now" he said, "can I shoot ?"
"Yes", said David, "you have proved you can shoot, but you haven't proved that you have any courage."
"That", said Neill, "will be shown on the day of battle."
The children held a private meeting and decided to enlist Neill as a private soldier, but on probation, that is, they were to watch him when the danger came and report on his ability to stand up under fire.
"This is just pure unadulterated hate and jealousy of the old men of life", said Neill. "You have now a United Front in theory but not in spirit. In the history of the Socialist Movement it is clear that -"
The shattering of a bedroom window cut short mere argument.
"The attack has begun", said David, and his mouth set hard and firm. "To your posts, comrades."
The enemy was attacking in extended order. One man was sniping from Coates' shop, another from Junction House. Two were firing from the direction of the hockey-field, and one front the Cottage. The sixth man they could not locate, because he was lying very still up by the railway footbridge, with a bullet from Pyecraft's rifle through his head.
"Don't waste ammunition on them", said Bunny. "They can't do any damage sniping at a brick house. We are safe as long as we remain indoors."
"Yes", said Jean, "but our food has given out, and unless we can go out and get it they'll starve us out. And no one can possibly go out in that fire." They held a council. They made an inventory of their ammunition: two machine-guns with ammunition belts, a rifle and revolver each with any amount of cartridges, two dozen Mills' bombs.
"Defence is never any good", said Michael. "We must attack. Our first objective is the Cottage. I have an idea that they all sleep there at nights, for there are always lights, and shadows across the windows. My plan is this: we crawl over at midnight, and when near enough we chuck a bomb at the door. It will blow it to smithereens."
"And then ?" asked Neill.
"We rush in."
"Quite", said Neill, "but what are the convicts doing in the meantime? Sleeping peacefully? Or will they have sense enough to man the windows and, with the light of the blazing door, shoot down anyone who approaches ?"
"Neill's right for once", said Robert. We must bomb the windows at the same time as we bomb the door."
And at midnight they crept forward, and they carried out the raid, and they shattered the door and the windows, and then lay waiting to hear if the enemy were alive. Suddenly they heard the sound of loud laughter coming from Coates' shop.
"We've bombed the wrong house", cried David in disgust.
"And used all our bombs", said Gordon. If this had been China, Michael would be shot for incompetence."
"My intelligence branch let me down", said Michael. "And how was I to know that the candles and shadows were a blind ?"
"Now I come to think of it", said Evelyn, the shadows kept walking round and round. There must have been someone to make the shadows."
"I think I know", said David suddenly. "Come on, let's look. Yes, just as I thought. See how they made the shadows? Gramophone with a clay man fixed to a record. Watch how every time it comes round past the candle it makes a shadow on the window. That's clever."
"Saw it once in a crook film", said Neill. He looked at David hard. "And, if I remember right, David saw that film too", and David went very red and said that he didn't 'cos he had a cold that night and didn't go to the cinema. See ?
They had had no food for three days. Jean had attempted to salvage a young rat that lay dead on the front drive, but a bullet sent her scuttling back to safety.
"We must take them in the rear", said Gordon.
"Don't be vulgar", said Neill severely.
"We'll divide the party", Gordon went on, ignoring the interruption. "Me and Bunny and Michael will creep out at night over to the Theberton Road, and then round to the station, and then they'll be between us and you."
This was done, and they reached the station safely, and mounted the roof. And thus they got 23 in the back as he lay on Coates' roof sniping at the school. He slid down and fell to earth dead. Bunny was so excited that he raised his head, and 99 sent a bullet from Coates' window. Bunny rolled down and fell to the platform. The others scrambled down, but he was dea
d. Gordon and Michael stared dry-eyed at their fallen comrade. They could not believe that they had lost him for ever. It was incredible that Bunny should die in this way. Then their tears came, and they sat down and gave way to their bitter grief. But when they arose it was not grief that showed in their eyes: it was a grim determination to hunt the convicts down to death. They could not return to the house before it was dark, and they huddled in the ticket office miserably waiting.
Suddenly a face appeared at the ticket hatch. "Two singles to Hell", said 99, and two shots rang out, and then there was stillness in the office.
Ten minutes later Neill was called to the telephone.
"Just wanna tell you that three of your rats are lying over in the station", he said.
"And another rat is lying over the 'phone", said Neill.
"Please yerself", said 99, "but I just thought it friendly like to put you wise."
"Trying to destroy our morale", said David, “but I wish they would come back."
As the hours went by they became more and more anxious. Robert could stand it no longer, so he made a detour and was away a long time. He returned and stood staring at the carpet.
Well ?" said Neill. "Find them ?" Robert nodded slowly.
"Are they all right ?"
Robert did not answer.
"You are keeping something back", cried Betty, clutching his arm with alarm. "What is it ?"
"They're all dead."
"What ?"
"Stone dead. That 'phone message was right."
"Michael too ?" asked David.
"All of them."
"Awful", said David; "he owed me ten marbles and a stick of chewing-gum. "
"I brought them", said Robert, and he paid the debt; but David protested at Robert's having used the chewing-gum on his way back.
Their situation was now critical. Three of their best fighters were dead, and they had no notion of how many of the convicts still lived.
"It seems so dumb of them to kill us", said Betty, "for, if it is slaves they want, killing us will mean that they have to work for themselves."
Then 99 'phoned again.
"If you give in now", he said, "we'll make it easy for you. We'll give you a trade union working day of eight hours, but you must give up your arms and obey our orders."
Robert, who had answered the 'phone, hesitated for a moment.
"Thanks very much", he said. "Your terms are most generous. But they are not in our language."
"Wot do you mean ? "
"We speak with lead when we address yellow-livered rats", and Robert hung up the receiver.
In the afternoon Robert spent some time in the bathroom.
"What are you doing ?" asked Jean.
Robert looked up from the sheet he was washing.
"Making a white flag", he said briefly.
"You mean to surrender ?"
"Nope, I mean to parley."
The semi-white flag was hoisted, and then 99 rang them up.
"Wot's the game ? You give in ?"
"No" said Robert; "we want to talk to you."
"You can talk to me now."
"No, we want to talk to all of you", said Robert, for this was his plan to discover how many of the enemy still remained alive.
There was a pause at the other end.
"And you'll fire at us when we come near", sneered 99.
"We are gentlemen", lied Robert with dignity.
Another pause.
"We'll come", said 99.
They came and stood in a group near the front door.
"We refuse to be your slaves", said Robert. "Go away and live somewhere else. You have killed three of the bravest boys that ever lived, and one of the most loveable men, but we do not now seek revenge. We want peace. "
They consulted among themselves, and then 99 said that they would like to go over a bit and talk it out.
"That suits me", said Robert, and he sat down on the front doorstep to await their decision.
"Come inside, Robert", cried Evelyn fearfully, "it isn't safe there."
Robert pointed to the semi-white flag.
"That", he said, "is protection enough."
Then there was a shot, and Robert fell forward on his face and lay on the gravel very very still, and a crimson ribbon crept slowly over the path. Neill and David fired, and two men bit the dust, but 99, the murderer, and 65, the burglar, escaped over the wall.
"I'm afraid that flag wasn't white enough", sighed David. "It was one of Michael's sheets, and Robert was mad to try to make it white. Poor Bob, but he was asking for it."
By this time they were literally starving. A sparrow dropped an earthworm on the lawn, and the girls rushed out wildly to capture it. Betty got it, and there was a struggle for possession.
"The fools", cried David; "they are making themselves targets."
Three shots rang out, and they gently sank to their knees and lay still.
"They asked for it too", was all that David said. Neill looked at him.
"David", he said, "you and I are left to fight two convicts. Why not meet them and shoot it out? Better that than go on starving as we are doing."
"I'm game", said David. He made a speaking trumpet and shouted to 99 and 65. "Hoy, you rats, we'll meet you in five minutes by the garage. Revolvers only."
"Come on !" cried 99.
They met. They stood facing each other at a distance of ten yards.
"We'll shoot it out in twos", announced David calmly. "Me and 65 first."
Neill and 99 stepped aside, and there the boy and the man stood.
"I'll say Go !" said Neill.
"Go !"
A stealthy movement of 99's arm distracted David's attention, but his quickness on the draw equalled that of 65. Each bullet found its mark. David got his through the heart; 65 through the head.
"Now", said Neill.
They watched each other's hands. Suddenly 99's dived to his belt, but he was a thousandth of a second too late, and Neill's bullet caught him squarely between the eyes.
Neill looked at the three corpses, then, stooping, he searched David's pockets and redeemed his pet screwdriver and his pocket-knife. Then, with a sigh of contentment, he slowly walked towards the house.
"The last man alive", he said pleasantly, and, going to the larder, he poured for himself a glass of Three Star Brandy. Then he went out and smiled at Chad's stance.
THE END.
- Discussion Of Chapter 12
Then they attacked me. Betty pounded me with her slipper, and Bunny pulled my hair. They were furious.
"It wasn't fair to kill us and let yourself be the only one alive", said Jean.
"And it wasn't even a good story", said Betty. "You said you'd have revenge for me burning the White Horse, and you never did it."
"If", I said, "getting bumped off struggling for a worm isn't your idea of a subtle revenge, I'm sorry for your perception."
"The whole thing was silly", said Michael. "That tin mine, humph! That was too far fetched. You shouldn't have brought in the convicts at all. I hated them."
"But you must admit", said I cheerfully, "that whatever its faults, the story had one great merit... the hero triumphed over all difficulties and lived on happily ever afterwards."
"On what? Earthworms?" and Betty threw a cushion at me.
"I didn't mind getting killed", said Robert, "but I did object to being killed the way you made it. Honestly, Neill, do you think I'd sit out on a doorstep and trust a bunch of convicts like that? Without even getting one of them?" he added ruefully. "No, the story was all right in some parts, but the end was just lousy."
"Good touch", laughed David, "that bit about the two singles to Hell. Better if you'd said first-class ones though."
"Excursion", said I, "might have been better."
"Why?"
"Latin ex = out, for they went out all right."
"But", said David, "an excursion is a cheap trip."
"A cheap trip for cheap yeggs", said I.
"Wouldn't it be nice", said Betty in her sweetest manner, "if somebody good were to write the story about the last man alive? It would make a good novel."
"H G Wells could do it", said Michael, who read a lot. "He knows so much. He would make it sound as if it were true. And he knows science too. In The Invisible Man and The Food of the Gods it all seems so absolutely scientific. Yes, Wells could do it."
"The art of story-telling isn't easy", said Gordon. "Of course anyone can tell a story that obviously isn't true, but I mean a story like they put in a book. You need brains for that."
"Neill always makes mistakes", said Bunny. "That about the German chaps being eaten by wolves in France. How did we know? See? That's what I mean."
"Well", I began, "I hadn't time to tell everything you know. I took it for granted that your instinct would tell you that we had picked up a bottle on the beach with a message from them."
"I suppose it's easy to find a message by bottle from the middle of a French forest", sneered Bunny.
"They, of course, threw it in the river", said I.
"And, naturally, of all places, it came to Sizewell Gap", he said.
"Homing instinct", said I. "In olden days Sizewell Gap was a notorious smugglers' cove. Any self-respecting bottle would -"
Here there was a united interruption, a forcible one that cannot be printed in a nice book.
"What did you do after we were all dead?" asked Evelyn.
"That", said I, "is another story which I may tell you next term", but they were unanimous in declaring that they had no desire to hear any story in which they did not take part.
"Pity", I said with a heavy sigh, "for after your deaths I had time to concentrate on my scientific work."
"Your what?" cried Michael with a derisive laugh.
"My biological work", I proceeded. "I discovered how to make new humans in the lab."
"What were they like?" asked David amused.
"All body, no brains", I said. "Pre-cloud man failed because he could think. Because he had intelligence he made weapons and conquered the animals, but then his intelligence was so feeble that all he could do was to go on making weapons which he used to conquer other men. My new race had no self-consciousness; they acted on instinct. They weren't ashamed of their naked bodies; they made no religion, no laws, no morals; they had no weapons, no wars; they did not have rich and poor; there was no disease among them; they died of old age."
