CHAPTER XII. THE EARTH IN ANARCHY
URGING the horses to a gallop, without respect to the rather ruggeddescent of the road, the horsemen soon regained their advantage over themen on the march, and at last the bulk of the first buildings of Lancycut off the sight of their pursuers. Nevertheless, the ride had beena long one, and by the time they reached the real town the west waswarming with the colour and quality of sunset. The Colonel suggestedthat, before making finally for the police station, they should makethe effort, in passing, to attach to themselves one more individual whomight be useful.
"Four out of the five rich men in this town," he said, "are commonswindlers. I suppose the proportion is pretty equal all over the world.The fifth is a friend of mine, and a very fine fellow; and what is evenmore important from our point of view, he owns a motor-car."
"I am afraid," said the Professor in his mirthful way, looking backalong the white road on which the black, crawling patch might appear atany moment, "I am afraid we have hardly time for afternoon calls."
"Doctor Renard's house is only three minutes off," said the Colonel.
"Our danger," said Dr. Bull, "is not two minutes off."
"Yes," said Syme, "if we ride on fast we must leave them behind, forthey are on foot."
"He has a motor-car," said the Colonel.
"But we may not get it," said Bull.
"Yes, he is quite on your side."
"But he might be out."
"Hold your tongue," said Syme suddenly. "What is that noise?"
For a second they all sat as still as equestrian statues, and fora second--for two or three or four seconds--heaven and earth seemedequally still. Then all their ears, in an agony of attention, heardalong the road that indescribable thrill and throb that means only onething--horses!
The Colonel's face had an instantaneous change, as if lightning hadstruck it, and yet left it scatheless.
"They have done us," he said, with brief military irony. "Prepare toreceive cavalry!"
"Where can they have got the horses?" asked Syme, as he mechanicallyurged his steed to a canter.
The Colonel was silent for a little, then he said in a strained voice--
"I was speaking with strict accuracy when I said that the 'Soleil d'Or'was the only place where one can get horses within twenty miles."
"No!" said Syme violently, "I don't believe he'd do it. Not with allthat white hair."
"He may have been forced," said the Colonel gently. "They must be atleast a hundred strong, for which reason we are all going to see myfriend Renard, who has a motor-car."
With these words he swung his horse suddenly round a street corner, andwent down the street with such thundering speed, that the others, thoughalready well at the gallop, had difficulty in following the flying tailof his horse.
Dr. Renard inhabited a high and comfortable house at the top of a steepstreet, so that when the riders alighted at his door they could oncemore see the solid green ridge of the hill, with the white road acrossit, standing up above all the roofs of the town. They breathed again tosee that the road as yet was clear, and they rang the bell.
Dr. Renard was a beaming, brown-bearded man, a good example of thatsilent but very busy professional class which France has preserved evenmore perfectly than England. When the matter was explained to him hepooh-poohed the panic of the ex-Marquis altogether; he said, with thesolid French scepticism, that there was no conceivable probability of ageneral anarchist rising. "Anarchy," he said, shrugging his shoulders,"it is childishness!"
"Et ca," cried out the Colonel suddenly, pointing over the other'sshoulder, "and that is childishness, isn't it?"
They all looked round, and saw a curve of black cavalry come sweepingover the top of the hill with all the energy of Attila. Swiftly as theyrode, however, the whole rank still kept well together, and they couldsee the black vizards of the first line as level as a line of uniforms.But although the main black square was the same, though travellingfaster, there was now one sensational difference which they could seeclearly upon the slope of the hill, as if upon a slanted map. The bulkof the riders were in one block; but one rider flew far ahead of thecolumn, and with frantic movements of hand and heel urged his horsefaster and faster, so that one might have fancied that he was not thepursuer but the pursued. But even at that great distance they could seesomething so fanatical, so unquestionable in his figure, that theyknew it was the Secretary himself. "I am sorry to cut short a cultureddiscussion," said the Colonel, "but can you lend me your motor-car now,in two minutes?"
"I have a suspicion that you are all mad," said Dr. Renard, smilingsociably; "but God forbid that madness should in any way interruptfriendship. Let us go round to the garage."
Dr. Renard was a mild man with monstrous wealth; his rooms were like theMusee de Cluny, and he had three motor-cars. These, however, he seemedto use very sparingly, having the simple tastes of the French middleclass, and when his impatient friends came to examine them, it took themsome time to assure themselves that one of them even could be madeto work. This with some difficulty they brought round into the streetbefore the Doctor's house. When they came out of the dim garagethey were startled to find that twilight had already fallen with theabruptness of night in the tropics. Either they had been longer in theplace than they imagined, or some unusual canopy of cloud had gatheredover the town. They looked down the steep streets, and seemed to see aslight mist coming up from the sea.
"It is now or never," said Dr. Bull. "I hear horses."
"No," corrected the Professor, "a horse."
And as they listened, it was evident that the noise, rapidly comingnearer on the rattling stones, was not the noise of the whole cavalcadebut that of the one horseman, who had left it far behind--the insaneSecretary.
Syme's family, like most of those who end in the simple life, had onceowned a motor, and he knew all about them. He had leapt at once into thechauffeur's seat, and with flushed face was wrenching and tugging at thedisused machinery. He bent his strength upon one handle, and then saidquite quietly--
"I am afraid it's no go."
As he spoke, there swept round the corner a man rigid on his rushinghorse, with the rush and rigidity of an arrow. He had a smile thatthrust out his chin as if it were dislocated. He swept alongside of thestationary car, into which its company had crowded, and laid his handon the front. It was the Secretary, and his mouth went quite straight inthe solemnity of triumph.
Syme was leaning hard upon the steering wheel, and there was no soundbut the rumble of the other pursuers riding into the town. Then therecame quite suddenly a scream of scraping iron, and the car leaptforward. It plucked the Secretary clean out of his saddle, as a knifeis whipped out of its sheath, trailed him kicking terribly for twentyyards, and left him flung flat upon the road far in front of hisfrightened horse. As the car took the corner of the street with asplendid curve, they could just see the other anarchists filling thestreet and raising their fallen leader.
"I can't understand why it has grown so dark," said the Professor atlast in a low voice.
"Going to be a storm, I think," said Dr. Bull. "I say, it's a pity wehaven't got a light on this car, if only to see by."
"We have," said the Colonel, and from the floor of the car he fished upa heavy, old-fashioned, carved iron lantern with a light inside it. Itwas obviously an antique, and it would seem as if its original use hadbeen in some way semi-religious, for there was a rude moulding of across upon one of its sides.
"Where on earth did you get that?" asked the Professor.
"I got it where I got the car," answered the Colonel, chuckling, "frommy best friend. While our friend here was fighting with the steeringwheel, I ran up the front steps of the house and spoke to Renard, whowas standing in his own porch, you will remember. 'I suppose,' I said,'there's no time to get a lamp.' He looked up, blinking amiably at thebeautiful arched ceiling of his own front hall. From this was suspended,by chains of exquisite ironwork, this lantern, one of the hundredtreasures of hi
s treasure house. By sheer force he tore the lamp out ofhis own ceiling, shattering the painted panels, and bringing down twoblue vases with his violence. Then he handed me the iron lantern, and Iput it in the car. Was I not right when I said that Dr. Renard was worthknowing?"
"You were," said Syme seriously, and hung the heavy lantern over thefront. There was a certain allegory of their whole position in thecontrast between the modern automobile and its strange ecclesiasticallamp. Hitherto they had passed through the quietest part of the town,meeting at most one or two pedestrians, who could give them no hint ofthe peace or the hostility of the place. Now, however, the windows inthe houses began one by one to be lit up, giving a greater sense ofhabitation and humanity. Dr. Bull turned to the new detective who hadled their flight, and permitted himself one of his natural and friendlysmiles.
"These lights make one feel more cheerful."
Inspector Ratcliffe drew his brows together.
"There is only one set of lights that make me more cheerful," he said,"and they are those lights of the police station which I can see beyondthe town. Please God we may be there in ten minutes."
Then all Bull's boiling good sense and optimism broke suddenly out ofhim.
"Oh, this is all raving nonsense!" he cried. "If you really think thatordinary people in ordinary houses are anarchists, you must be madderthan an anarchist yourself. If we turned and fought these fellows, thewhole town would fight for us."
"No," said the other with an immovable simplicity, "the whole town wouldfight for them. We shall see."
While they were speaking the Professor had leant forward with suddenexcitement.
"What is that noise?" he said.
"Oh, the horses behind us, I suppose," said the Colonel. "I thought wehad got clear of them."
"The horses behind us! No," said the Professor, "it is not horses, andit is not behind us."
Almost as he spoke, across the end of the street before them two shiningand rattling shapes shot past. They were gone almost in a flash, buteveryone could see that they were motor-cars, and the Professor stood upwith a pale face and swore that they were the other two motor-cars fromDr. Renard's garage.
"I tell you they were his," he repeated, with wild eyes, "and they werefull of men in masks!"
"Absurd!" said the Colonel angrily. "Dr. Renard would never give themhis cars."
"He may have been forced," said Ratcliffe quietly. "The whole town is ontheir side."
"You still believe that," asked the Colonel incredulously.
"You will all believe it soon," said the other with a hopeless calm.
There was a puzzled pause for some little time, and then the Colonelbegan again abruptly--
"No, I can't believe it. The thing is nonsense. The plain people of apeaceable French town--"
He was cut short by a bang and a blaze of light, which seemed close tohis eyes. As the car sped on it left a floating patch of white smokebehind it, and Syme had heard a shot shriek past his ear.
"My God!" said the Colonel, "someone has shot at us."
"It need not interrupt conversation," said the gloomy Ratcliffe. "Prayresume your remarks, Colonel. You were talking, I think, about the plainpeople of a peaceable French town."
The staring Colonel was long past minding satire. He rolled his eyes allround the street.
"It is extraordinary," he said, "most extraordinary."
"A fastidious person," said Syme, "might even call it unpleasant.However, I suppose those lights out in the field beyond this street arethe Gendarmerie. We shall soon get there."
"No," said Inspector Ratcliffe, "we shall never get there."
He had been standing up and looking keenly ahead of him. Now he sat downand smoothed his sleek hair with a weary gesture.
"What do you mean?" asked Bull sharply.
"I mean that we shall never get there," said the pessimist placidly."They have two rows of armed men across the road already; I can see themfrom here. The town is in arms, as I said it was. I can only wallow inthe exquisite comfort of my own exactitude."
And Ratcliffe sat down comfortably in the car and lit a cigarette, butthe others rose excitedly and stared down the road. Syme had slowed downthe car as their plans became doubtful, and he brought it finally toa standstill just at the corner of a side street that ran down verysteeply to the sea.
The town was mostly in shadow, but the sun had not sunk; wherever itslevel light could break through, it painted everything a burning gold.Up this side street the last sunset light shone as sharp and narrow asthe shaft of artificial light at the theatre. It struck the car of thefive friends, and lit it like a burning chariot. But the rest of thestreet, especially the two ends of it, was in the deepest twilight, andfor some seconds they could see nothing. Then Syme, whose eyes were thekeenest, broke into a little bitter whistle, and said,
"It is quite true. There is a crowd or an army or some such thing acrossthe end of that street."
"Well, if there is," said Bull impatiently, "it must be somethingelse--a sham fight or the mayor's birthday or something. I cannot andwill not believe that plain, jolly people in a place like this walkabout with dynamite in their pockets. Get on a bit, Syme, and let uslook at them."
The car crawled about a hundred yards farther, and then they were allstartled by Dr. Bull breaking into a high crow of laughter.
"Why, you silly mugs!" he cried, "what did I tell you. That crowd's aslaw-abiding as a cow, and if it weren't, it's on our side."
"How do you know?" asked the professor, staring.
"You blind bat," cried Bull, "don't you see who is leading them?"
They peered again, and then the Colonel, with a catch in his voice,cried out--
"Why, it's Renard!"
There was, indeed, a rank of dim figures running across the road, andthey could not be clearly seen; but far enough in front to catch theaccident of the evening light was stalking up and down the unmistakableDr. Renard, in a white hat, stroking his long brown beard, and holding arevolver in his left hand.
"What a fool I've been!" exclaimed the Colonel. "Of course, the dear oldboy has turned out to help us."
Dr. Bull was bubbling over with laughter, swinging the sword in his handas carelessly as a cane. He jumped out of the car and ran across theintervening space, calling out--
"Dr. Renard! Dr. Renard!"
An instant after Syme thought his own eyes had gone mad in his head. Forthe philanthropic Dr. Renard had deliberately raised his revolver andfired twice at Bull, so that the shots rang down the road.
Almost at the same second as the puff of white cloud went up from thisatrocious explosion a long puff of white cloud went up also from thecigarette of the cynical Ratcliffe. Like all the rest he turned a littlepale, but he smiled. Dr. Bull, at whom the bullets had been fired, justmissing his scalp, stood quite still in the middle of the road withouta sign of fear, and then turned very slowly and crawled back to the car,and climbed in with two holes through his hat.
"Well," said the cigarette smoker slowly, "what do you think now?"
"I think," said Dr. Bull with precision, "that I am lying in bed at No.217 Peabody Buildings, and that I shall soon wake up with a jump; or,if that's not it, I think that I am sitting in a small cushioned cell inHanwell, and that the doctor can't make much of my case. But if you wantto know what I don't think, I'll tell you. I don't think what you think.I don't think, and I never shall think, that the mass of ordinary menare a pack of dirty modern thinkers. No, sir, I'm a democrat, and Istill don't believe that Sunday could convert one average navvy orcounter-jumper. No, I may be mad, but humanity isn't."
Syme turned his bright blue eyes on Bull with an earnestness which hedid not commonly make clear.
"You are a very fine fellow," he said. "You can believe in a sanitywhich is not merely your sanity. And you're right enough about humanity,about peasants and people like that jolly old innkeeper. But you're notright about Renard. I suspected him from the first. He's rationalistic,and, what's worse, he's rich
. When duty and religion are reallydestroyed, it will be by the rich."
"They are really destroyed now," said the man with a cigarette, and rosewith his hands in his pockets. "The devils are coming on!"
The men in the motor-car looked anxiously in the direction of his dreamygaze, and they saw that the whole regiment at the end of the road wasadvancing upon them, Dr. Renard marching furiously in front, his beardflying in the breeze.
The Colonel sprang out of the car with an intolerant exclamation.
"Gentlemen," he cried, "the thing is incredible. It must be a practicaljoke. If you knew Renard as I do--it's like calling Queen Victoria adynamiter. If you had got the man's character into your head--"
"Dr. Bull," said Syme sardonically, "has at least got it into his hat."
"I tell you it can't be!" cried the Colonel, stamping.
"Renard shall explain it. He shall explain it to me," and he strodeforward.
"Don't be in such a hurry," drawled the smoker. "He will very soonexplain it to all of us."
But the impatient Colonel was already out of earshot, advancing towardsthe advancing enemy. The excited Dr. Renard lifted his pistol again, butperceiving his opponent, hesitated, and the Colonel came face to facewith him with frantic gestures of remonstrance.
"It is no good," said Syme. "He will never get anything out of that oldheathen. I vote we drive bang through the thick of them, bang as thebullets went through Bull's hat. We may all be killed, but we must killa tidy number of them."
"I won't 'ave it," said Dr. Bull, growing more vulgar in the sincerityof his virtue. "The poor chaps may be making a mistake. Give the Colonela chance."
"Shall we go back, then?" asked the Professor.
"No," said Ratcliffe in a cold voice, "the street behind us is held too.In fact, I seem to see there another friend of yours, Syme."
Syme spun round smartly, and stared backwards at the track which theyhad travelled. He saw an irregular body of horsemen gathering andgalloping towards them in the gloom. He saw above the foremost saddlethe silver gleam of a sword, and then as it grew nearer the silver gleamof an old man's hair. The next moment, with shattering violence, he hadswung the motor round and sent it dashing down the steep side street tothe sea, like a man that desired only to die.
"What the devil is up?" cried the Professor, seizing his arm.
"The morning star has fallen!" said Syme, as his own car went down thedarkness like a falling star.
The others did not understand his words, but when they looked back atthe street above they saw the hostile cavalry coming round the cornerand down the slopes after them; and foremost of all rode the goodinnkeeper, flushed with the fiery innocence of the evening light.
"The world is insane!" said the Professor, and buried his face in hishands.
"No," said Dr. Bull in adamantine humility, "it is I."
"What are we going to do?" asked the Professor.
"At this moment," said Syme, with a scientific detachment, "I think weare going to smash into a lamppost."
The next instant the automobile had come with a catastrophic jar againstan iron object. The instant after that four men had crawled out fromunder a chaos of metal, and a tall lean lamp-post that had stood upstraight on the edge of the marine parade stood out, bent and twisted,like the branch of a broken tree.
"Well, we smashed something," said the Professor, with a faint smile."That's some comfort."
"You're becoming an anarchist," said Syme, dusting his clothes with hisinstinct of daintiness.
"Everyone is," said Ratcliffe.
As they spoke, the white-haired horseman and his followers camethundering from above, and almost at the same moment a dark string ofmen ran shouting along the sea-front. Syme snatched a sword, and took itin his teeth; he stuck two others under his arm-pits, took a fourthin his left hand and the lantern in his right, and leapt off the highparade on to the beach below.
The others leapt after him, with a common acceptance of such decisiveaction, leaving the debris and the gathering mob above them.
"We have one more chance," said Syme, taking the steel out of his mouth."Whatever all this pandemonium means, I suppose the police station willhelp us. We can't get there, for they hold the way. But there's a pieror breakwater runs out into the sea just here, which we could defendlonger than anything else, like Horatius and his bridge. We must defendit till the Gendarmerie turn out. Keep after me."
They followed him as he went crunching down the beach, and in a secondor two their boots broke not on the sea gravel, but on broad, flatstones. They marched down a long, low jetty, running out in one arm intothe dim, boiling sea, and when they came to the end of it they felt thatthey had come to the end of their story. They turned and faced the town.
That town was transfigured with uproar. All along the high parade fromwhich they had just descended was a dark and roaring stream of humanity,with tossing arms and fiery faces, groping and glaring towards them. Thelong dark line was dotted with torches and lanterns; but even where noflame lit up a furious face, they could see in the farthest figure, inthe most shadowy gesture, an organised hate. It was clear that they werethe accursed of all men, and they knew not why.
Two or three men, looking little and black like monkeys, leapt over theedge as they had done and dropped on to the beach. These came ploughingdown the deep sand, shouting horribly, and strove to wade into the seaat random. The example was followed, and the whole black mass of menbegan to run and drip over the edge like black treacle.
Foremost among the men on the beach Syme saw the peasant who had driventheir cart. He splashed into the surf on a huge cart-horse, and shookhis axe at them.
"The peasant!" cried Syme. "They have not risen since the Middle Ages."
"Even if the police do come now," said the Professor mournfully, "theycan do nothing with this mob."
"Nonsense!" said Bull desperately; "there must be some people left inthe town who are human."
"No," said the hopeless Inspector, "the human being will soon beextinct. We are the last of mankind."
"It may be," said the Professor absently. Then he added in his dreamyvoice, "What is all that at the end of the 'Dunciad'?
'Nor public flame; nor private, dares to shine; Nor human light is left, nor glimpse divine! Lo! thy dread Empire, Chaos, is restored; Light dies before thine uncreating word: Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall; And universal darkness buries all.'"
"Stop!" cried Bull suddenly, "the gendarmes are out."
The low lights of the police station were indeed blotted and brokenwith hurrying figures, and they heard through the darkness the clash andjingle of a disciplined cavalry.
"They are charging the mob!" cried Bull in ecstacy or alarm.
"No," said Syme, "they are formed along the parade."
"They have unslung their carbines," cried Bull dancing with excitement.
"Yes," said Ratcliffe, "and they are going to fire on us."
As he spoke there came a long crackle of musketry, and bullets seemed tohop like hailstones on the stones in front of them.
"The gendarmes have joined them!" cried the Professor, and struck hisforehead.
"I am in the padded cell," said Bull solidly.
There was a long silence, and then Ratcliffe said, looking out over theswollen sea, all a sort of grey purple--
"What does it matter who is mad or who is sane? We shall all be deadsoon."
Syme turned to him and said--
"You are quite hopeless, then?"
Mr. Ratcliffe kept a stony silence; then at last he said quietly--
"No; oddly enough I am not quite hopeless. There is one insane littlehope that I cannot get out of my mind. The power of this whole planetis against us, yet I cannot help wondering whether this one silly littlehope is hopeless yet."
"In what or whom is your hope?" asked Syme with curiosity.
"In a man I never saw," said the other, looking at the leaden sea.
"I know what y
ou mean," said Syme in a low voice, "the man in the darkroom. But Sunday must have killed him by now."
"Perhaps," said the other steadily; "but if so, he was the only man whomSunday found it hard to kill."
"I heard what you said," said the Professor, with his back turned. "Ialso am holding hard on to the thing I never saw."
All of a sudden Syme, who was standing as if blind with introspectivethought, swung round and cried out, like a man waking from sleep--
"Where is the Colonel? I thought he was with us!"
"The Colonel! Yes," cried Bull, "where on earth is the Colonel?"
"He went to speak to Renard," said the Professor.
"We cannot leave him among all those beasts," cried Syme. "Let us dielike gentlemen if--"
"Do not pity the Colonel," said Ratcliffe, with a pale sneer. "He isextremely comfortable. He is--"
"No! no! no!" cried Syme in a kind of frenzy, "not the Colonel too! Iwill never believe it!"
"Will you believe your eyes?" asked the other, and pointed to the beach.
Many of their pursuers had waded into the water shaking their fists,but the sea was rough, and they could not reach the pier. Two or threefigures, however, stood on the beginning of the stone footway, andseemed to be cautiously advancing down it. The glare of a chance lanternlit up the faces of the two foremost. One face wore a black half-mask,and under it the mouth was twisting about in such a madness of nervesthat the black tuft of beard wriggled round and round like a restless,living thing. The other was the red face and white moustache of ColonelDucroix. They were in earnest consultation.
"Yes, he is gone too," said the Professor, and sat down on a stone."Everything's gone. I'm gone! I can't trust my own bodily machinery. Ifeel as if my own hand might fly up and strike me."
"When my hand flies up," said Syme, "it will strike somebody else," andhe strode along the pier towards the Colonel, the sword in one hand andthe lantern in the other.
As if to destroy the last hope or doubt, the Colonel, who saw himcoming, pointed his revolver at him and fired. The shot missed Syme,but struck his sword, breaking it short at the hilt. Syme rushed on, andswung the iron lantern above his head.
"Judas before Herod!" he said, and struck the Colonel down upon thestones. Then he turned to the Secretary, whose frightful mouth wasalmost foaming now, and held the lamp high with so rigid and arrestinga gesture, that the man was, as it were, frozen for a moment, and forcedto hear.
"Do you see this lantern?" cried Syme in a terrible voice. "Do you seethe cross carved on it, and the flame inside? You did not make it. Youdid not light it. Better men than you, men who could believe and obey,twisted the entrails of iron and preserved the legend of fire. There isnot a street you walk on, there is not a thread you wear, that was notmade as this lantern was, by denying your philosophy of dirt and rats.You can make nothing. You can only destroy. You will destroy mankind;you will destroy the world. Let that suffice you. Yet this one oldChristian lantern you shall not destroy. It shall go where your empireof apes will never have the wit to find it."
He struck the Secretary once with the lantern so that he staggered; andthen, whirling it twice round his head, sent it flying far out to sea,where it flared like a roaring rocket and fell.
"Swords!" shouted Syme, turning his flaming face to the three behindhim. "Let us charge these dogs, for our time has come to die."
His three companions came after him sword in hand. Syme's sword wasbroken, but he rent a bludgeon from the fist of a fisherman, flinginghim down. In a moment they would have flung themselves upon the faceof the mob and perished, when an interruption came. The Secretary, eversince Syme's speech, had stood with his hand to his stricken head as ifdazed; now he suddenly pulled off his black mask.
The pale face thus peeled in the lamplight revealed not so much rage asastonishment. He put up his hand with an anxious authority.
"There is some mistake," he said. "Mr. Syme, I hardly think youunderstand your position. I arrest you in the name of the law."
"Of the law?" said Syme, and dropped his stick.
"Certainly!" said the Secretary. "I am a detective from Scotland Yard,"and he took a small blue card from his pocket.
"And what do you suppose we are?" asked the Professor, and threw up hisarms.
"You," said the Secretary stiffly, "are, as I know for a fact, membersof the Supreme Anarchist Council. Disguised as one of you, I--"
Dr. Bull tossed his sword into the sea.
"There never was any Supreme Anarchist Council," he said. "We were all alot of silly policemen looking at each other. And all these nice peoplewho have been peppering us with shot thought we were the dynamiters.I knew I couldn't be wrong about the mob," he said, beaming over theenormous multitude, which stretched away to the distance on both sides."Vulgar people are never mad. I'm vulgar myself, and I know. I am nowgoing on shore to stand a drink to everybody here."
The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare Page 13
