Classic Audiobook Collection - The Maker of Moons, and Other Short Stories by Robert W. Chambers ~ Full Audiobook [horror]

Starting point is 00:00:00 The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers The Maker of Moons, Chapter 1 I am myself just as much evil as good, and my nation is, and I say there is in fact no evil. Or if there is, I say it is just as important to you, to the land, or to me, as anything else. Each is not for its own sake. I say the whole earth, and all the stars in the sky, are for religion's sake. I say no man has ever yet been half devout enough.

Starting point is 00:00:40 None has ever yet adored or worshipped half enough. None has begun to think how divine he himself is, and how certain the future is. Walt Whitman. The Maker of Moons. I have heard what the talkers were talking. The talk of the beginning and the end. But I do not talk of the beginning or the end. Chapter 1.

Starting point is 00:01:12 Concerning U.A. Lowe and the Shien, I know nothing more than you shall know. I am miserably anxious to clear the matter up. Perhaps what I write may save the United States government money and lives. Perhaps it may arouse the scientific world to action. At any rate, it will put an end to the terrible suspense of two people, certainty is better than suspense. If the government dares to disregard this warning and refuses to send a thoroughly equipped expedition at once, the people of the state may take swift vengeance on the whole region,

Starting point is 00:01:49 and leave a blackened, devastated waste, where today forest and flowering meadowland border the lake in the cardinal woods. You already know part of the story. The New York papers have been full of alleged details. This much is true. Barris caught the Shiner, red-handed, or rather yellow-handed, for his pockets and boots and dirty fists were stuffed with lumps of gold. I say gold, advisedly, you may call it what you please.

Starting point is 00:02:22 You also know how Barris was, but unless I begin at the beginning of my own experiences, You will be known the wiser after all. On the 3rd of August of this present year, I was standing in Tiffany's, chatting with George Godfrey of the designing department. On the glass counter between us lay a coiled serpent, an exquisite specimen of chiseled gold. No, replied Godfrey to my question. It isn't my work. I wish it was.

Starting point is 00:02:53 Why, man, it's a masterpiece. Whose, I asked. Now I should be very glad to know also, said Godfrey. We bought it from an old Jay, who says he lives in the country, somewhere about the Cardinal Woods. That's near Starlit Lake, I believe. Lake of the Stars, I suggested. Some call it Starlit Lake, it's all the same. Well, my rustic Rubin says that he represents the sculptor of this snake,

Starting point is 00:03:23 for all practical and business purposes. He got his prize, too. We hope he'll bring us something more. We have sold this already to the Metropolitan Museum. I was leaning idly on the glass case, watching the keen eyes of the artist in precious metals as he stooped over the gold serpent. A masterpiece, he muttered to himself, fondling the glittering coil. Look at the texture.

Starting point is 00:03:48 Few. But I was not looking at the serpent. Something was moving, crawling out of Godfrey's coat pocket. pocket nearest to me, something soft and yellow, with crab-like legs all covered with coarse yellow hair. What in heaven's name, said I? Have you got in your pocket? It's crawling out. It's trying to keep up your coat, Godfrey. He turned quickly and dragged the creature out with his left hand. I shrank back as he howled the repulsive object dangling before me, and he laughed and placed

Starting point is 00:04:23 it on the counter. Did you ever see anything like that? He did. demanded? No, said I truthfully, and I hope I never shall again. What is it? I don't know, as them at the Natural History Museum. They can't tell you. The Smithsonian is all at sea too. It is, I believe, the connecting link between a sea urchin, a spider, and the devil. It looks venomous, but I can't find either fangs or mouth. Is it blind? These things may be eyes, but they look as if they were painted. A Japanese sculptor might have produced such an impossible beast, but it is hard to believe that God did. It looks unfinished too. I have a mad idea that this creature is only one of the parts of some larger and more grotesque organism. It looks so lonely, so hopelessly dependent,

Starting point is 00:05:17 so cursedly unfinished. I'm going to use it as a model. If I don't out Japanese the Japs, my name isn't Godfrey. The creature was moving slowly, across the glass case towards me. I drew back. Godfrey, I said. I would execute a man who executed any such work as you propose. What do you want to perpetrate such a reptile for? I can stand the Japanese grotesque, but I can't stand that spider. It's a crab. Crab or spider or blind worm? Ah, what do you want to do it for? It's a nightmare. It's unclean. I hated the thing. It was the first living creature that I had ever hated. For some time I had noticed a damp, acrid odour in the air, and Godfrey said it came from the reptile. Then kill it and bury it, I said, and by the way,

Starting point is 00:06:10 where did it come from? I don't know that either, laughed Godfrey. I found it clinging to the box that this gold serpent was brought in. I suppose my old Rubin is responsible. If the cardinal woods are the lurking places for things like this, said I. I am sorry that I am going to the Cardinal Woods. Are you? asked Godfrey, for the shooting? Yes, with Barris and Pierpont. Why don't you kill that creature? Go off on your shooting trip and let me alone, laughed Godfrey.

Starting point is 00:06:42 I shouldered at the crab and bade Godfrey goodbye until December. That night, Pierpont, Barris and I sat chatting in the smoking car of the Quebec Express when the long train pulled out of the Grand Central Depot. Old David had gone forward with the dogs, poor things, they hated to ride in the baggage car, but the Quebec and Northern Road provides no sportsman's cars, and David and the three Gordon Setters were in for an uncomfortable night. Except for Pierpont, Barris and myself, the car was empty. Barris, trim, stout, ruddy and bronzed, sat drumming on the window ledge,

Starting point is 00:07:21 puffing a short, fragrant pipe. His guncase lay beside him on the floor. When I have white hair and years of discretion, said Pierpont languidly, I'll not flirt with pretty serving maids. Will you, Roy? No, said I, looking at Barris. You mean the maid with the cap in the Paulman car? asked Barris. Yes, said Pierpont.

Starting point is 00:07:45 I smiled, for I had seen it also. Barris twisted his crisp grey moustache and yawned. You children had better be toddling after bed, he said. that lady's maid is a member of the Secret Service. Oh, said Pierpont, one of your colleagues? You might present us, you know, I said. The journey is monotonous. Barris had drawn a telegram from his pocket,

Starting point is 00:08:11 and as he sat turning it over and over between his fingers, he smiled. After a moment or two, he handed it to Pierpont, who read it with slightly raised eyebrows. It's rot, I suppose it's cipher, he said. I see it signed by General Drummond. Drummond, chief of the government secret service, said Barris. Something interesting? I inquired lighting a cigarette. Something so interesting, replied Barris, that I'm going to look into it myself.

Starting point is 00:08:43 And break up our shooting trio? No, do you want to hear about it? Do you, Billy Pierpont? Yes, replied that immaculate young man. Barris rubbed the amber mouthpiece of his pipe on his handkerchief, cleared the stem with a bit of wire, puffed once or twice, and leaned back in his chair. Pierpont, he said, do you remember that evening at the United States Club when General Miles, General Drummond and I were examining that gold nugget that Captain Mahan had? You examined it also, I believe. I did, said Pierpont. Was it gold? asked Barris, drumming on the window.

Starting point is 00:09:23 It was, replied Pierpont. I saw it too, said I. Of course it was gold. Professor Legrine saw it also, said Barris. He said it was gold. Well, said Pierpont. Well, said Barris, it was not gold. After a silence, Pierpont asked what tests had been made. The usual tests, replied Barris.

Starting point is 00:09:49 The United States mint is satisfied that it is gold. so is every jeweller who has seen it, but it is not gold, and yet it is gold. Pierpont and I exchanged glances. Now, said I, for Barris' usual coup d'e teatro, what was the nugget? Practically, it was pure gold, but, said Barris, enduring the situation intensely, really, it was not gold. Pierpont, what is gold? Gold's an element, a metal.

Starting point is 00:10:24 Wrong, Billy Pierpont, said Barris coolly. Gold was an element when I went to school, said I. It has not been an element for two weeks, said Barris. And, except General Drummond, Professor Lagrange and myself, you two youngsters are the only people except one in the world who know it, or have known it. Do you mean to say that gold is a composite metal, said Pierpont? I do. LaGrange has made it. He produced a scale of pure gold day before yesterday. That nugget was manufactured gold. Could Barris be joking? Was this a colossal hoax? I looked at Pierpont.

Starting point is 00:11:11 He muttered something about that settling the silver question and turned his head to Barris, but there was that in Barris's face which forbade jesting, and pyrgypid, and appear upon an eye sat silently pondering. Don't ask me how it's made, said Barris quietly. I don't know, but I do know that somewhere in the region of the Cardinal Woods, there is a gang of people who do know how gold is made and who make it. You understand the danger this is to every civilized nation. It's got to be stopped, of course.

Starting point is 00:11:46 Drummond and I have decided that I am the man to stop it. Wherever and whoever these people are, these goldmakers, they must be caught, every one of them, caught or shot. All shot, repeated Pierpont, who was owner of the cross-cut gold mine and found his income too small. Professor Lagrange will of course be prudent. Science need not know things that would upset the world. Little Willie, said Barris, laughing, your income is safe. I suppose, said I, some floor on the nugget gave Professor Lagrange the tip.

Starting point is 00:12:25 Exactly. He cut the floor out before sending the nugget to be tested. He worked on the floor and separated gold into its free elements. He is a great man, said Pierpunt. But he will be the greatest man in the world if he can keep his discovery to himself. Who, said Barris? Professor Lagrange? Professor Lagrange was shot through the heart two hours ago, replied Barry slowly. End of Section 1, recording by Ryan Finch.

Starting point is 00:13:02 Section 2 of The Maker of Moons and other short stories. This is a Librovox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Recording by Ryan Finch. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers The Maker of Moons, Chapter 2 Chapter 2

Starting point is 00:13:34 We had been at the shooting box in the Cardinal Woods five days when a telegram was brought to Boris by a mounted messenger from the nearest telegraph station, Cardinal Springs, a hamlet on the Lumber Railroad which joins the Quebec and Northern at Free Rivers' Jersey. junction, 30 miles below. Pierpont and I were sitting out under the trees, loading some special shells as experiments.

Starting point is 00:14:02 Barris stood beside us, bronzed, erect, holding his pipe carefully so that no sparks should drift into our powderbox. The beat of hoofs over the grass aroused us, and when the lank messenger drew bridle before the door, Barris stepped forward and took the seal telegram. when he had torn it open, he went into the house and presently reappeared, reading something that he had written. This should go at once, he said, looking the messenger full in the face. At once, Colonel Barris, replied the shabby countryman.

Starting point is 00:14:38 Pierpont glanced up, and I smiled at the messenger, who was gathering his bridle and settling himself in his stirrups. Barris handed him the written reply and nodded goodbye. There was a foot of hoofs on the green sward, a jingle of bit and spur across the gravel, and the messenger was gone. Barris's pipe went out and he stepped to windward to relight it. It is queer, said I, that your messenger, a battered native, should speak like a Harvard man.

Starting point is 00:15:10 He is a Harvard man, said Barris. And the plot thickens, said Pierpont. Are the Cardinal Woods full of your Secret Service men, Barris? No, replied Barris, but the telegraph stations are. How many ounces of shot are you using, Roy? I told him, holding up the adjustable steel measuring cup, he nodded. After a moment or two he sat down on a camp stall beside us and picked up a crimper. That telegram was from Drummond, he said.

Starting point is 00:15:42 The messenger was one of my men, as you two bright little boys. a vine. Poo, if he had spoken the cardinal country dialect, he wouldn't have known. His makeup was good, said Pierpont. Barris twirled the crimper and looked at the pile of loaded shells. Then he picked up one and crimped it. Let him alone, said Pierpont, you crimped too tight. Does his little gun kick when the shells are crimped too tight? inquired Barris tenderly. Well, he shall crimp his own shells then.

Starting point is 00:16:16 Where's his little man? His little man was a weird English importation, stiff, very carefully scrubbed, tangled in his aspirates, named Howlett. As valet, gilly, gunbearer and crimper, he aided Pierpont to endure the unwee of existence by doing for him everything except breathing. Lately, however, Barris' taunts had driven Pierpont to do a few things for himself. To his astonishment, he found that cleaning his own gun was not a bore, so he timidly loaded a shell or two, was much pleased with himself,

Starting point is 00:16:56 loaded some more, crimped them, and went to breakfast with an appetite. So when Barris asked where his little man was, Pierpont did not reply, but dug a cupful of shot from the bag, and poured it solemnly into the Harfield shell. Old David came out with the dogs,

Starting point is 00:17:15 and of course there was a powwow when Voya, my Gordon, wagged his splendid tail across the loading table, and sent a dozen unstopped cartridges rolling over the grass, vomiting powder and shot. Give the dogs a mile or two, said I. We will shoot over the sweet fern covert,

Starting point is 00:17:35 about four o'clock, David. Two guns, David. added Barris. Are you not going? asked Pierpont, looking up as David disappeared with the dogs. Bigger game, said Barris shortly. He picked up a mug of ale from the tray, which Howlett had just set down beside us, and took a long pull. We did the same, silently. Pierpont set his mug on the turf beside him, and returned to his loading.

Starting point is 00:18:06 We spoke of the murder of Professor Lepin. a grange, of how it had been concealed by the authorities in New York at Drummond's request, of the certainty that it was one of the gang of goldmakers who had done it, and of the possible alertness of the gang. Oh, they know that Drummond will be after them sooner or later, said Barris, but they don't know that the mills of the guards have already begun to grind, those smart New York papers build it better than they knew when their ferret-eyed reporter poker-es-lawed. his red nose into the house on 58th Street, and sneaked off of a column on his cuffs about

Starting point is 00:18:44 the suicide of Professor LaGrange. Billy Pierpont, my revolver is hanging in your room. I'll take yours too. Help yourself, said Pierpont. I shall be gone overnight, continued Barris. My poncho, and some bread and meat are all I shall take, except the barkers. Will they bark tonight? I asked.

Starting point is 00:19:08 No, I trust not for several weeks yet, I shall know as about a bit. Roy, did it ever strike you how queer it is, that this wonderfully beautiful country should contain no inhabitants? It's like those splendid stretches of pools and rapids, which one finds on every trout river, and in which one never finds a fish, suggested Pierpont. Exactly, and heaven alone knows why, said Barris. I suppose this country is shunned by human beings for the same mysterious reasons. The shooting is the better for it, I observed.

Starting point is 00:19:47 The shooting is good, said Barris. Have you noticed the snipe on the meadow by the lake? Why, it's brown with them. That's a wonderful meadow. It's a natural one, said Pierpont. No human being ever cleared that land. Then it's supernatural, said Barris. "'Pirpont, do you want to come with me?'

Starting point is 00:20:09 "'Pirpont's handsome face flushed as he answered slowly. "'It's awful good of you, if I may.' "'Bosh,' said I, "'peaked because he had asked Pierpont. "'What use his little Willie without his man?' "'True,' said Barris gravely. "'You can't take howlard, you know.' "'Pirpont muttered something which ended in D, blank N.'

Starting point is 00:20:33 "'Then,' said I, "'there will be the word. but one gun on the sweet Fern Covert this afternoon. Very well, I wish you joy of your cold supper and colder bed. Take your nightgown, Willie, and don't sleep on the damp ground. Let Pierpont alone, retorted Barris. You shall go next time, Roy. Oh, all right.

Starting point is 00:20:56 You mean when there's shooting going on? And I, demanded Pierpont, grieved. You too, my son. Stop quarreling. will you ask Howlett to pack our kits? Lightly, mind you, no bottles, they clink. My flask doesn't, said Pierpont, and went off to get ready for a night's stalking of dangerous men.

Starting point is 00:21:20 It is strange, said I, that nobody ever settles in this region. How many people live in Cardinal Springs, Beres? Twenty, counting the telegraph operator, and not counting the lumbermen. They are always changing and shifting. I have six men among them. Where have you no men? In the 400?

Starting point is 00:21:43 I have men there also. Chums of billies, only he doesn't know it. David tells me that there was a strong flight of Woodcock last night. You ought to pick up some this afternoon. Then we chatted about Alder Cova and Swamp until Pierpont came out of the house and it was time to part. "'Areve-voir,' said Barris, buckling on his kit. "'Come along, Pierpont, and don't walk in the damp grass.'

Starting point is 00:22:11 "'If you are not back by tomorrow noon,' said I, "'I will take Howlett and David and hunt you up. "'You say your course is due north?' "'Jew north,' replied Barris, consulting his compass. "'There is a trail for two miles, "'and a spotted lead for two more,' said Pierpont, "'which we won't use for various reasons.' reasons, added Barrers pleasantly. Don't worry, Roy, and keep your confounded expedition out of the

Starting point is 00:22:38 way. There's no danger. He knew, of course, what he was talking about, and I howed my peace. When the tip end of Pierpont's shooting coat had disappeared in the long covert, I found myself standing alone with Howlett. He bore my gaze for a moment, and then politely lowered his eyes. "'Hawlet,' said I, "'take these shells and implements to the gun-room "'and drop nothing. "'Did Voyu come to any harm in the briars this morning?' "'No arm, Mr. Cardenny, sir,' said Howlett.

Starting point is 00:23:13 "'Then be careful not to drop anything else,' said I, "'and walked away leaving him decorously puzzled. "'For he had dropped no cartridges. "'Poor Howlett.' "'End of Section 2. "'Recording by Ryan Finch. Section 3 of The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories This is a Libravox recording

Starting point is 00:23:42 All Libervox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit Libavox.org Recording by Ryan Finch The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers The Maker of Moons Chapter 3

Starting point is 00:24:04 Chapter 3 About 4 o'clock that afternoon I met David and the dogs at the Spinney Which leads into the sweet Fern Covert The freesters Voyo, Gamin and Miosh were in fine feather David had killed a woodcock

Starting point is 00:24:23 An abrasive grouse over them that morning And they were frashing about the spinny At short range When I came up, gun under arm And pipe lighted What's the prospect, David? I asked trying to keep my feet in the tangle of wagging, whining dogs.

Starting point is 00:24:40 Hello, what's a miss with meosh? A briar in his foot, sir. I drew it and stopped the wound, but I guess the gravel's got in. If you have no objection, sir, I might take him back with me. It's safer, I said, take gammon too. I only want one dog this afternoon. What is the situation? Fair, sir.

Starting point is 00:25:04 the grouse lie within a quarter of a mile of the oak's second growth. The woodcock are mostly on the alders. I saw any number of snipe on the meadows. There's something else in by the lake. I can't just tell what, but the wood duck set up a clatter when I was in the thicket. And they come dashing through the wood, as if a dozen foxes were snapping at their tear of feathers.

Starting point is 00:25:29 Probably a fox, I said. Leash those dogs. They must learn to stand. it. I'll be back by dinner time. There is one more thing, sir, said David, lingering with his gun under his arm. Well, said I, I saw a man in the woods by the Oak Covert. At least I think I did. A lumberman? I think not, sir. At least, do they have Chinamen among them? "'Chinese? No. You didn't see a Chinaman in the woods here?'

Starting point is 00:26:07 "'I—I think I did, sir. I can't say positively. He was gone when I ran into the covert.' "'Did the dogs notice it?' "'I can't say, exactly. They acted queer like. Gamin here lay down and whined. It may have been colic, and Miosch whimpered, perhaps it was the briar. And Voyo? Voyu, he was most remarkable, sir, and the hair on his back stood up. I did see a groundhog making for a tree nearby. Then no wonder Voyu bristled.

Starting point is 00:26:47 David, your Chinaman was a stump or tussock. Take the dogs now. I guess it was, sir. Good afternoon, sir, said David. and walked away with the Gordons, leaving me alone with Voya in the Spinney. I looked at the dog, and he looked at me. Voyo. The dog sat down and danced with his forefeet, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling.

Starting point is 00:27:12 You are fraud, I said. Which shall it be, the elders or the Upland? Upland? Good. Now for the grouse. Heal, my friend, and show your miraculous self-restraint. Voire wheeled into my tracks and followed close, nobly refusing to notice the impotent chipmunks, and the thousand and one alluring and important smells, which an ordinary dog would have lost no time in investigating. The brown and yellow autumn woods were crisp with drifting heaps of leaves and twigs that crackled underfoot,

Starting point is 00:27:49 as we turned from the spinny into the forest. Every silent little stream, hurrying toward the lake, was a little stream. gay with painted leaves afloat, scarlet maple or yellow oak. Spots of sunlight fell upon the pools, searching the brown depths, illuminating the gravel bottom, where shoals of minnows swam to and fro, and to and fro again, busy with the purpose of their little lives. The crickets were chirping in the long brittle grass on the edge of the woods, but we left them far behind in the silence of the deeper forest. Now, said I to Voya.

Starting point is 00:28:30 The dog sprang to the front, circled once, zigzagged through the ferns around us, and all in a moment, stiffened stuck still, rigid, as sculptured bronze. I stepped forward, raising my gun, two paces, three paces, ten perhaps, before a great cock-grouse blundered up from the break, and birded. first threw the thicket fringe toward the deeper growth. There was a flash and puff from my gun, a crash of echoes among the low wooded cliffs, and through the faint veil of smoke something dark dropped from mid-air, amid a cloud of feathers, brown as the brown leaves underfoot.

Starting point is 00:29:14 Fetch! Up from the ground sprang Vojo, and in a moment he came galloping back, neck arched, tail-stiffed but waving, holding tenderly in his pink mouth, a mass of mottled bronze feathers. Very gravely, he laid the bird at my feet, and crouched close beside it, his silky ears across his paws, his muzzle on the ground. I dropped the grouse into my pocket, howled for a moment, a silent, caressing communion with voeou, then swung the gun under my arm and motioned the dug-on. It must have been five o'clock when I walked into a little opening in the woods and sat down to breathe. Vauyu came and sat down in front of me.

Starting point is 00:30:01 Well, I inquired. Voyu gravely presented one paw, which I took. We will never get back in time for dinner, said I, so we might as well take it easy. It's all your fault, you know. Is there a briar in your foot? Let's see. There.

Starting point is 00:30:20 It's out, my friend, and you are free to nose about and lick it. If you lull your tongue out, you'll get it all over twigs and moss. Can't you lie down and try to pant less? No, there is no use in sniffing in looking at that fern patch, for we are going to smoke a little, doze a little, and go home by moonlight. Think what a big dinner we will have. Think of howlets to spare when we are not in time. Think of all the stories you will have to tell gammoner,

Starting point is 00:30:50 in a meosh. Think what a good dog you have been. There, you are tired, old chap. Take forty winks with me. Vauyu was a little tired. He stretched out on the leaves at my feet, but whether or not he really slept I could not be certain, until his hind legs twitched, and I knew he was dreaming of mighty deeds. Now I may have taken forty winks, but the sun seemed to be no lower when I sat up and enclosed my lids. Vauyu raised his head, saw in my eyes that I was not going yet, thumped his tail half a dozen times on the dried leaves, and settled back with a sigh.

Starting point is 00:31:30 I looked lazily around, and for the first time noticed what a wonderfully beautiful spot I had chosen for a nap. It was an oval glade, in the heart of the forest, level and carpeted with green grass. The trees that surrounded it was. gigantic, they formed one towering circular wall of verger, blotting out all, except the turquoise blue of the sky oval above. And now I noticed that in the centre of the green sward lay a pool of water, crystal clear, glimmering like a mirror in the meadow grass, beside a block of granite.

Starting point is 00:32:10 It scarcely seemed possible that the symmetry of tree and lawn and luciant pool could have been one of nature's accidents. I had never before seen this glade, nor had I ever heard it spoken of by either Pierpont or Baris. It was a marvel, this diamond-clear basin, regular and graceful as a Roman fountain, set in the gem of turf. And these great trees, they also belonged, not in America, but in some legend-haunted forest of France, where moss-grown marbles stand neglected in dim glades, and the twilight of the forest shouts fairies and slender shapes from shadowland. I lay and watched the sunlight, showering the tangled thicket, where masses of crimson cardinal flowers glowed, or where one long dusty sunbeam, tipped the edge of the floating leaves in the

Starting point is 00:33:08 pool, turning them to palest guilt. There were birds too, passing through the dim avenues of trees, like jets of flame, the gorgeous cardinal bird in his deep-stained crimson robe, the bird that gave to the woods, to the village fifteen miles away, to the whole county, the name of cardinal. I rolled over on my back and looked up at the sky. How pale, paler than a robin's egg it was. I seemed to be lying at the bottom of a well, walled with verdure, high towering on every side, And, as I lay, all about me the air became sweet-scented. Sweater and sweeter, and more penetrating grew the perfume. And I wondered what stray breeze, blowing over acres of lilies, could have brought it.

Starting point is 00:34:04 But there was no breeze, the air was still. A gilded fly alighted on my hand, a honey-fly. It was as troubled as I by the scented silence. Then, behind me, my dog growled. I sat quite still at first, hardly breathing, but my eyes were fixed on a shape that moved along the edge of the pool, among the meadow grasses. The dog had ceased growling and was now staring, alert and trembling.

Starting point is 00:34:38 At last I rose, and walked rapidly down to the pool, my dog following close to heel. The figure, a woman's, turned slowly towards us. End of Section 3. Recording by Ryan Finch. Section 4 of The Maker of Moons and other short stories. This is a Librevox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libavox.org.

Starting point is 00:35:20 Recording by Ryan Finch. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers The Maker of Moons, Chapter 4 Chapter 4 She was standing still when I approached the pool. The forest around us was so silent that when I spoke, the sound of my own voice startled me. No, she said, and her voice was smooth as flowing water.

Starting point is 00:35:52 I have not lost my way. Will he come to me, your beautiful dog? Before I could speak, Vauyu crept to her, and laid his silky head against her knees. But surely, said I, you did not come here alone. Alone?

Starting point is 00:36:11 I did come alone. But the nearest settlement is Cardinal, probably 19 miles from where we are standing. I do not know, Cardinal. She said. St. Croix in Canada is forty miles at least. How did you come into the Cardinal Woods? I asked, amazed.

Starting point is 00:36:32 Into the woods, she repeated a little impatiently. Yes. She did not answer at first, but stood caressing voeu with gentle phrase and gesture. Your beautiful dog I am fond of, but I am not fond of being questioned, she said quietly, my name is Esond, and I came to the fountain here to see your dog. I was properly quenched. After a moment or two, I did say that in another hour it would be growing dusky, but she neither replied nor looked at me. This, I ventured, is a beautiful pool. You call it a

Starting point is 00:37:12 fountain, a delicious fountain. I have never before seen it. It is hard to imagine that nature did all this. Is it, she said? Don't you think so? I asked. I haven't thought. I wish when you go you would leave me your dog. My, my dog. If you don't mind, she said sweetly,

Starting point is 00:37:37 and looked at me for the first time in the face. For an instant, our glances met. Then she grew grave, and I saw that her eyes were fixed on my forehead. Suddenly, she rose and drew nearer, looking intently at my forehead. There was a faint mark there, a tiny crescent, just over my eyebrow. It was a birth mark. Is that a scar, she demanded, drawing nearer?

Starting point is 00:38:09 That crescent-shaped mark? No. No, are you sure? She insisted. Perfectly, I replied, astonished. A, a birthmark. Yes, may I ask why? As she drew away from me, I saw that the colour had fled from her cheeks. For a second, she clasped both hands over her eyes, as if to shut out my face. Then slowly dropping her hands, she sat down on a long square block of stone, which

Starting point is 00:38:45 half encircled the basin, and on which, to my amazement, I saw carving. Voyu went to her again, and laid his head in her lap. What is your name? she asked at length. Roy Cardon he. Mine is he sunned. I carved these dragonflies on the stone, these fishes and shells and butterflies you see. You? They are wonderfully delicate, but these are not American dragonflies. No, they are more beautiful. See, I have my hammer and chisel with me.

Starting point is 00:39:28 She drew from a queer pouch at her side, a small hammer and chisel, and held them toward me. You are very talented, I said. Where did you study? I? I never studied. I knew how. I saw. I saw. I. I saw. I. I said. I said. I did you study. I said. I said. I did you study. I said. I said, I said, I said, I know how. I saw you are saw things and cut them out of stone. Do you like them? Sometime I will show you other things that I have done. If I had a great lump of bronze, I could make your dog, beautiful as he is. Her hammer fell into the fountain, and I leaned over and plunged my arm into the water to find it. It is there, shining on the sand, she said, leaning over the pool with me. Where, said I, looking at our reflected faces in the water, for it was only in the water that I had dared, as yet, to look

Starting point is 00:40:19 her long in the face. The pool mirrored the exquisite oval of her head, the heavy hair, the eyes. I heard the silken rustle of her girdle. I caught the flash of a white arm, and the hammer was drawn up dripping with spray. The troubled surface of the pool grew calm, and again I saw her eyes reflected. Listen, she said in a low voice. Do you think you will come again to my fountain? I will come, I said. My voice was dull. The noise of water filled my ears. Then a swift shadow sped across the pool. I rubbed my eyes. Where her reflected face had bent beside mine, there was nothing mirrored, but the rosy evening sky, with one pale star glimmering. I drew myself up and turned, she was gone.

Starting point is 00:41:11 I saw the faint star, twinkling above me in the afterglow. I saw the tall trees motionless in the still evening air. I saw my dog slumbering at my feet. The sweet scent in the air had faded, leaving in my nostrils the heavy odour of fern and forest mowled. A blind fear seized me, and I caught up my gun and sprang into the darkening woods. The dog followed me,

Starting point is 00:41:39 crashing through the undergrowth at my side. Duller and Dulla grew the light, but I strode on, the sweat pouring from my face and hair, my mind a chaos. How I reached the spinny, I can hardly tell. As I turned up the path, I caught a glimpse of a human face, peering at me from the darkening thicket, a horrible human face, yellow and drawn with high-bone cheeks and narrow eyes.

Starting point is 00:42:07 involuntarily I halted, the dog at my heels snarled, then I sprang straight at it, floundering blindly through the thicket, but the night had fallen swiftly, and I found myself panting and struggling in a maze of twisted shrubbery and twining vines, unable to see the very undergrowth that ensnared me. It was a pale face and a scratched one that I carried to a late dinner that night. Howlet served me. dumb reproach in his eyes, for the soup had been standing, and the grouse was juiceless.

Starting point is 00:42:43 David brought the dogs in, after they had had their supper, and I drew my chair before the blaze, and set my ale on a table beside me. The dogs curled up at my feet, blinking gravely at the sparks that snapped and flew, in eddying showers from the heavy birch logs. David, said I, did you say you saw a Chinaman today? I did, sir. What do you think about it now? I may have been mistaken, sir. But you think not. What sort of whiskey did you put in my flask today?

Starting point is 00:43:18 The usual, sir? Is there much gone? About three swallows, sir, as usual. You don't suppose there could have been any mistake about that whiskey. No medicine could have gotten into it, for instance? David smiled and said, No, sir. Well, said I, I have had an extraordinary dream.

Starting point is 00:43:41 When I said dream, I felt comforted and reassured. I had scarcely dared to say it before, even to myself. An extraordinary dream, I repeated. I fell asleep in the woods about five o'clock, in that pretty glade where the fountain. I mean the pool is. You know the place? I do not, sir. I described it minutely, twice, but David shook his head.

Starting point is 00:44:10 Carved stone, did you say, sir? I never chanced on it. You don't mean the New Spring. No, no, this glade is way beyond that. Is it possible that any people inhabit the forest between here and the Canada line? Nobody short of St. Croix. At least I have no knowledge of any. Of course, said I.

Starting point is 00:44:32 When I thought I saw a Chinaman, It was imagination. Of course I had been more impressed than I was aware of by your adventure. Of course you saw no Chinaman, David. Probably not, sir, replied David dubiously. I sent him off to bed, saying I should keep the dogs with me all night. And when he was gone, I took a good long draught of ale. Just to shame the devil, as Pierpont said, and lighted a cigar.

Starting point is 00:45:00 Then I thought of Barris and Pierpont and their cold bed, for I knew they would not dare build a fire, and in spite of the hot chimney corner and the crackling blaze, I shivered in sympathy. I'll tell Barris and Pierpont the whole story, and take them to see the carved stone and the fountain, I fought to myself. What a marvellous dream it was.

Starting point is 00:45:24 He sunned, if it was a dream. Then I went to the mirror, and examined the faint white mark above my eyebrow. End of Section 4. Recording by Ryan Finch. Section 5 of The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain.

Starting point is 00:45:56 For more information, or to volunteer, please visitlibovox.org. Recording by Ryan Finch. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers. The Maker of Moons, Chapter 5. Chapter 5 About 8 o'clock next morning, as I sat listlessly eyeing my coffee cup, which howl it was filling.

Starting point is 00:46:27 Gammon and Miose set up a howl, and in a moment more I heard Barris' step on the porch. Hello, Roy, said Pierpont, stamping into the dining room. I want my breakfast by Jingo. Where's Howlett? None of your cafe au lae for me. I want a chop and some eggs. Look at that dog. He'll wag the hinge off his tail in a moment.

Starting point is 00:46:50 Pierpont, said I, This loquacity is astonishing, but welcome. Where's Barris? You are soaked from neck to ankle. Pierpont sat down and tore off his stiff, muddy leggings. Barris is telephoning to Cardinal Springs. I believe he wants some of his men. down gammon you idiot howlett free eggs poached and more toast what was i saying oh about barris he struck something or other which he hopes will locate these gold-making fellows i had a jolly time he'll tell you about it

Starting point is 00:47:26 billy billy i said in pleased amazement you are learning to talk dear me you load your own shells and you carry your own gun and you fire it yourself hello Here's Barris all over mud. You fellows really ought to change your rig. Fue, what a frightful odour. It's probably this, said Barris, tossing something onto the half, where it shuddered for a moment and then began to rive. I found it in the woods by the lake. Do you know what it can be, Roy?

Starting point is 00:47:59 To my disgust, I saw it was another of those spidery, wormy, trap-like creatures that Godfrey had in Tiffany's. I thought I recognised that acridoda, I said, For the love of the saints, take it away from the breakfast table, Barris. But what is it? He persisted, unslinging his field glass and revolver. I'll tell you what I know after breakfast, I replied firmly. Howlett, get a broom and sweep that thing into the road.

Starting point is 00:48:29 What are you laughing at Pierpont? Howlett swept the repulsive creature out, and Barris and Pierpont went to change their do-so-to-to-one. clothes for dry arraignment. David came to take the dogs for an airing, and in a few minutes Barris reappeared and sat down in his place at the head of the table. Well, said I, is there a story to tell? Yes, not much. They are near the lake on the other side of the woods. I mean these goldmakers. I shall collar one of them this evening. I haven't located the main gang with any certainty.

Starting point is 00:49:06 Shove the toast rack this way, will you, Roy? No, I am not at all certain, but I've nailed one anyway. Pierpont was a great help, really. And, what do you think, Roy? He wants to join the Secret Service. Little Willie. Exactly. Oh, I'll dissuade him.

Starting point is 00:49:26 What sort of a reptile was that I brought in? Did Howlett sweep it away? He can sweep it back again for all I care, I said indifferently, I finish my breakfast. No, said Barris, hastily swallowing his coffee. It's of no importance. You can tell me about the beast. So if you right if I had it brought in on toast, I returned. Pierpont came in radiant, fresh from the bath.

Starting point is 00:49:54 Go on with your story, Roy, he said, and I told them about Godfrey and his reptile pet. Now, what in the name of common sense can Godfrey? I found interesting in that creature, I ended, tossing my cigarette into the fireplace. It's Japanese, don't you think? said Pierpont. No, said Barris. It is not artistically grotesque. It's vulgar and horrible. It looks cheap and unfinished. Unfinished, exactly, said I, like an American humorist. Yes, said Pierpont, cheap. What about that gold surplice? How, the Metropolitan Museum brought it.

Starting point is 00:50:38 You must see it, it's marvellous. Barris and Pierpont had lighted their cigarettes, and, after a moment, we all rose and strolled out to the lawn, where chairs and hammocks were placed under the maple trees. David passed, gun under arm, dog's healing. Free guns on the meadows at four this afternoon, said Pierpont. Roy, said Barris, as David. as David bowed and started on, What did you do yesterday?

Starting point is 00:51:08 That was the question I had been expecting. All night long I had dreamed of his son and the glade in the woods, where, at the bottom of the crystal fountain, I saw the reflection of her eyes. All the morning while bathing and dressing, I had been persuading myself, that the dream was not worth recounting, and that to search for the glade and the imaginary stone carving would be ridiculous.

Starting point is 00:51:33 But now, as Barris asked the question, I suddenly decided to tell him the whole story. See here, you fellows, I said abruptly, I am going to tell you something queer. You can laugh as much as you please, too, but first I want to ask Barris a question or two. You have been in China, Barris? Yes, said Barris, looking straight into my eyes. Would a Chinaman be likely to turn lumberman? Have you seen a Chinaman? he asked in a quiet voice. I don't know. David and I both imagined we did.

Starting point is 00:52:12 Barris and Pierpont exchanged glances. Have you seen one also? I demanded, turning to include Pierpont. No, said Barris slowly, but I know that there is or has been a Chinaman in these woods. The devil, said I. Yes, said Barris'amon. gravely, the devil, if you like, a devil, a member of the Ku'en-U-in. I drew my chair close to the hammock where Pierpont lay at full length, holding out to me a ball of pure gold. Well, said I, examining the engraving on its surface, which represented a mass of twisted creatures,

Starting point is 00:52:56 dragons, I supposed. Well, repeated Barris, extending his hand to take the golden ball, This globe of gold, engraved with reptiles and Chinese hieroglyphics, is the symbol of the Ku'en-Uin. Where did you get it? I asked, feeling that something startling was impending. Pierpont found it by the lake at sunrise this morning. It is the symbol of the Ku'en-U-in, he repeated. The terrible Ku-en-Uin, the sorcerers of China, and the most murderously diabolical sect on earth We puffed our cigarettes in silence Until Barris rose

Starting point is 00:53:38 And began to pace backward and forward among the trees Twisting his grey moustache The Ku'en Uin are sorcerers He said Pausing before the hammock Where Pierpont lay watching him I mean exactly what I say Sorcerers

Starting point is 00:53:56 I've seen them I've seen them at their devilish business And I repeat to you solemnly That as there are angels above, there is a race of devils on earth, and they are sorcerers. Ba, he cried, talk to me of Indian magic and yogis and all that clap trap. Why, Roy, I tell you that the Ku'enuin have absolute control of a hundred millions of people, mind and body, body and soul. Do you know what goes on in the interior of China?

Starting point is 00:54:33 Does Europe know? Could any human being conceive of the condition of that gigantic halp it? You read the papers, you hear diplomatic twaddle about Li Hong Chang and the Emperor. You see accounts of battles on sea and land, and you know that Japan has raised a toy tempest along the jagged edge of the great unknown. But you never before heard of the Kuanguin. No, nor has any European. except a stray missionary or two, and yet I tell you that when the fires from this pit of

Starting point is 00:55:09 hell have eaten through the continent to the coast, the explosion will inundate half a world, and God helped the other half. Pierpont's cigarette went out, he lighted another and looked hard at Barris. But, resumed Barris quietly, sufficient unto the day, you know, I didn't intend to say as much as I did. It would do no good. Even you and Pierpont will forget it. It seems so impossible and so far away,

Starting point is 00:55:42 like the burning out of the sun. What I want to discuss is the possibility, or probability, of a Chinaman, a member of the Ku'en-Uin, being here at this moment in the forest. If he is, said Pierpont, possibly the goldmakers owe their discovery to him. I do not doubt it for a second, said Barris earnestly.

Starting point is 00:56:08 I took the little golden globe in my hand and examined the characters engraved upon it. Barris, said Pierpont, I can't believe in sorcery while I am wearing one of Sanford's shooting suits, in the pocket of which rests an uncut volume of the Duchess. Neither can I, I said, for I read the evening post, and I know Mr. Godkin would not allow it.

Starting point is 00:56:33 Hello, what's the matter with this gold ball? What is the matter? said Barris grimly. Why? Why, it's changing colour. Purple, no, crimson. No, it's green, I mean. Good heavens! These dragons are twisting under my fingers. Impossible, muttered Pierpont, leaning over me. Those are not dragons. No, I cried excitedly, they are pictures of that reptile that Barris brought back. See, see? How they crawl and turn.

Starting point is 00:57:06 Drop it, commanded Barris, and I threw the ball on the turf. In an instant we had all knelt down on the grass beside it, but the globe was again golden, grotesquely wrought with dragons and strange signs. Pierpont, a little red in the face, picked it up and handed it to Barry. he placed it on a chair and sat down beside me. "'Few!' said I, wiping the perspiration from my face. "'How did you play as that trick, Barris?' "'Trick,' said Barris contemptuously.

Starting point is 00:57:41 "'I looked at Pierpont and my heart sank. "'If this was not a trick, what was it?' "'Pierpont returned my glance and coloured, "'but all he said was, "'It's devilish queer.' "'And Baris answered, Yes, devilish. Then Barris asked me again to tell my story, and I did,

Starting point is 00:58:03 beginning from the time I met David in the Spinney, to the moment when I sprang into the darkening thicket, where that yellow mask had grinned like a phantom skull. Shall we try to find the fountain, I asked after a pause? Yes, and, uh, the lady, suggested Pierpont vaguely. Don't be an ass, I said a little impatiently. You need not to. come, you know. Oh, I'll come, said Pierpont, unless you think I am indiscreet.

Starting point is 00:58:33 Shut up, Pierpont, said Beres. This thing is serious. I never heard of such a glade or such a fountain, but it's true that nobody knows this forest thoroughly. It's worth while trying for. Roy, can you find your way back to it? Easily, I answered, when shall we go? It will knock our snorting shooting on the head, said Pierpont, but then, when one has the opportunity of finding a live dream lady, I rose, deeply offended, but Pierpont was not very penitent, and his laughter was irresistible. The lady's yours by right of discovery, he said, I'll promise not to infringe on your dreams, I'll dream about other ladies.

Starting point is 00:59:20 Come, come, said I, I'll have Howlett put you to bed in a minute. "'Barris, if you are ready, we can get back to dinner.' "'Barris had risen, and was gazing at me earnestly. "'What's the matter?' I asked nervously, "'for I saw that his eyes were fixed on my forehead, "'and I thought of his son and the white crescent scar.' "'Is that a birthmark?' said Barris. "'Yes, why, Barris?'

Starting point is 00:59:47 "'Nothing. An interesting coincidence.' "'What, for heaven's sake?' The scar or rive of the birthmark, it is the print of the dragon's claw, the crescent symbol of Yue Liao. And who the devil is U.A. Lowe, I said crossly. U.A. Lowe, the moonmaker, Dazil Nabeu of the Ku'en Uin, its Chinese mythology, but it is believed that Ui Lau has returned to rule the Ku'en Uin. The conversation, interrupted Pierpont, smacks of peacocks feathers, and yellow jackets. The chicken pox has left its card on Roy, and Barris is Guy Angus. Come on you fellows, and make your call on the dream lady.

Starting point is 01:00:37 Barris, I hear galloping, here come your men. Two mud-splashed riders clattered up to the porch and dismounted at a motion from Barris. I noticed that both of them carried repeating rifles and heavy culture of revolvers. They followed Barris, deferentially, into the dining room, and presently we heard the tinkle of plates and bottles and the low hum of Barris's musical voice. Half an hour later, they came out again, saluted Pierpont and me, and galloped away in the direction of the Canadian frontier. Ten minutes passed, and as Barris did not appear, we rose and went into the house to find him. He was sitting silently before the table, watching the small golden globe,

Starting point is 01:01:25 now glowing with scarlet and orange fire, brilliant as a live coal. Howlett, Malphajar, and eyes starting from the sockets, stood petrified behind him. Are you coming? asked Pierpont, a little startled. Baris did not answer. The globe slowly turned to pale gold again, but the face, that Barris raised to ours was white as a sheet. Then he stood up and smiled with an effort, which was painful to us all. Give me a pencil and a bit of paper, he said. Howlett brought it? Barris went to the window and wrote rapidly. He folded the paper, placed it in the top drawer of his desk, locked the drawer, handed me the key, and motioned us to proceed him. When, again, we stood under

Starting point is 01:02:18 the maples, he turned to me with an impenetrable expression. You will know when to use the key, he said. Come Pierpont, we must try to find Roy's Fountain. End of Section 5, Recording by Ryan Finch. Section 6 of the Maker of Moons and other short stories. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org.

Starting point is 01:02:58 Recording by Ryan Finch The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories by Robert W. Chambers The Maker of Moons, Chapter 6. Chapter 6 At 2 o'clock that afternoon, at Barris's suggestion, we gave up the search for the fountain in the glade and cut across the forest to the spinny where David and Howlett were waiting with our guns and the free dogs. Pierpont guide me unmercifully about the dream lady, as he called her, and, but for the significant coincidence of Esons and Barris's questions

Starting point is 01:03:38 concerning the white scar on my forehead, I should long ago have been perfectly persuaded that I had dreamed the whole thing. As it was, I had no explanation to offer. We had not been able to find the glade, although fifty times I came to landmarks, which convinced me that we were just about to enter it. Barris was quiet, scarcely uttering a word to either of us during the entire search.

Starting point is 01:04:02 I had never before seen him depressed in spirits. However, when we came in sight of the spinny where a cold bit of grouse and a bottle of burgundy awaited each, Barris seemed to recover his habitual good humour. Here's to the dream lady, said Pierpont, raising his glass and standing up. I did not like it. even if she was only a dream, it irritated me to hear Pierpont's mocking voice.

Starting point is 01:04:28 Perhaps Barris understood. I don't know, but he bade Pierpont drink his wine without further noise, and that young man obeyed with a childlike confidence, which almost made Barris smile. What about the snipe, David? I asked. The meadow should be in good condition. There is not a snipe on the meadows, sir, said David solemnly. "'Impossible!' exclaimed Barris. "'They can't have left.'

Starting point is 01:04:54 "'They have, sir,' said David, "'in a suppulchral voice which I hardly recognised. "'We all three looked at the old man curiously, "'waiting for his explanation of this disappointing "'but sensational report. "'David looked at Howlett, and Howlett examined the sky. "'I was going,' began the old man, "'with his eyes fastened on Howlett.

Starting point is 01:05:17 "'I was going across the spinny with the dogs.' when I heard a noise in the covert, and I seen Howlett come walking very fast toward me. In fact, continued David, I may say he was running. Was you running, Howlett? Howlett said, yes, with a decorous cuff. I beg pardon, said David, but I'd rather Howlet told the rest. He saw things which I did not. Go on, Howlett, commanded Pierpont, much interested. Howl it cuffed again behind his large red hand. What David says is true, sir, he began.

Starting point is 01:05:56 I observed the dogs at a distance, how there was a working, sir, and David stood a lighting of his pipe, behind the spotted beach, when I saw a Ed pop-up in the covert, holding a stick like he was aiming at the dog, sir. A head holding a stick, said Pierpont severely. The Ed Adan, sir, explained. Howlett. An's the outer painted stick. Like that, sir. Owlet, thinks I to myself. This ear's queer, so I jump in and runs. But the beggar, he seen me, and when I comes alongside of David, he was gone. Hello, Owl, says David. What the owl? I beg pardon, sir. How did you come here?

Starting point is 01:06:41 Says he very loud. Run, says I, the Chinaman is Harry and the dogs. For God, sake, what Chinaman, says David, aim in his gun at every bush. Then I think I see him, and we run and run. The dogs are bounding close to heels, sir, but we don't see no Chinaman. I'll tell the rest, said David, as Howlett coughed and stepped in a modest corner behind the dogs. Go on, said Barris in a strange voice. Well, sir, when Howlett and I stopped chasing, we was on the cliff overlooking the south meadow. I noticed that there was hundreds of birds there, mostly yellow legs and plover,

Starting point is 01:07:22 and Howlett seen them too. Then, before I could say a word to Howlett, something out in the lake gave a splash. A splash as if the whole cliff had fallen into the water. I was that scared that I jumped straight into the bush, and Howlett, he sat down quick, and all those snipe wheeled up. There was hundreds, all are squealing with fright,

Starting point is 01:07:43 and the wood duck came bowling over the meadows as if the old Nick was behind. David paused and glanced meditatively at the dogs. Go on, said Barris in the same strained voice. Nothing more, sir. The snipe did not come back. But that splash in the lake? I don't know what it was, sir. A salmon? A salmon couldn't have frightened the duck in the snipe that way? No. Oh no, sir.

Starting point is 01:08:11 If 50 salmon had jumped, they couldn't have. made that splash. Couldn't they, Howlett? No, ow, said Howlett. Roy, said Barris at length, what David tells us settles the snipe shooting for today. I am going to take Pierpont up to the house. Howlett and David will follow with the dogs. I have something to say to them. If you care to come, come along. If not, go and shoot a brace of grouse for dinner, and be back by eight,

Starting point is 01:08:38 if you want to see what Pierpont and I discovered last night. David whistled Gamin and meosh to heal and followed Howlett and his hamper toward the house I called Voyer to my side, picked up my gun and turned to Barris I will be back by eight I said You are expecting to catch one of the goldmakers are you not Yes said Barris listlessly

Starting point is 01:09:01 Pierpont began to speak about the Chinaman But Barris motioned him to follow And nodding to me took the path that Howlett and David had followed toward the house When they disappeared, I tucked my gun under my arm and turned sharply into the forest, Vauyu trotting close to my heels. In spite of myself, the continued apparition of the Chinaman made me nervous. If he troubled me again, I had fully decided to get the drop on him, and find out what he was doing in the Cardinal Woods.

Starting point is 01:09:32 If he could give no satisfactory account of himself, I would march him into Barris as a gold-making suspect. I would march him in any way, I thought, and rid the forest of his oakly face. I wondered what it was that David had heard in the lake. It must have been a big fish, a salmon, I thought. Probably David's and Howlett's nerves were overwrought after their celestial chase.

Starting point is 01:09:55 A wine from the dog broke the thread of my meditation, and I raised my head. Then I stopped short in my tracks. The lost glade lay straight before me. Already the dog had bounded into it, across the velvet turf to the carved stone where a slim figure sat. I saw my dog lay his silky head lovingly against her silken curtail. I saw her face bend above him, and I caught my breath and slowly entered the sunlit glade.

Starting point is 01:10:26 Half timidly, she held out one white hand. Now that you have come, she said, I can show you more of my work. I told you that I could do other things besides these dragonfly. and muffs, carved here in stone. Why do you stare at me, sir? Are you ill? Isund, I stammered.

Starting point is 01:10:48 Yes, she said, with a faint colour under her eyes. I, I never expected to see you again, I blurted out. You, I, I thought I had dreamed. Dreamed, of me? Perhaps you did. Is that strange? Strange? No, no.

Starting point is 01:11:09 But where did you go? When, when we were leaning over the fountain together, I saw your face, your face reflected beside mine, and then, then suddenly I saw the blue sky, and only a star twinkling. It was because you fell asleep, she said, was it not? I, asleep? You slept, I thought you were very tired and I went back. Back? Where?

Starting point is 01:11:37 Back to my home, where I carved my beautiful images. See, here is one I brought to show you today. I took the sculptured creature that she howled toward me, a massive golden lizard with frail claw-spread wings of gold so thin that the sunlight burned through and fell on the ground in flaming gilded patches. Good heavens, I exclaimed, This is astounding. Where did you learn to do such work?

Starting point is 01:12:07 "'I sun, such a thing is beyond price.' "'Oh, I hope so,' she said earnestly. "'I can't bear to sell my work, "'but my stepfather takes it and sends it away. "'This is the second thing I have done, "'and yesterday he said I must give it to him. "'I suppose he is poor.' "'I don't see how he can be poor

Starting point is 01:12:29 "'if he gives you gold to modelling,' I said, astonished. "'Gold?' she exclaimed. "'Gold?' He has a room full of gold. He makes it. I sat down on the turf at her feet, completely unnerved. Why do you look at me, so? she asked, and a little troubled. Where does your stepfather live? I said at last.

Starting point is 01:12:54 Here. Here? In the woods, near the lake. You could never find our house. A house? Of course. Did you think I lived in a tree? How silly. I live with my stepfather, in a beautiful house, a small house, but very beautiful.

Starting point is 01:13:16 He makes his gold there, but the men who carry it away never come to the house, for they don't know where it is, and if they did, they could not get in. My stepfather carries the gold in lumps, to a canvas satchel. When the satchel is full, he takes it out into the woods, where the men live, and I don't know what they do with it. I wish he could sow the gold and become rich, for then I could go back to Yi Yan, where all the gardens are sweet, and the river flows under the thousand bridges. Where is this city? I asked faintly. Ye'an? I don't know. It is sweet with perfume, and the sound of silver boughs all day long.

Starting point is 01:13:59 Yesterday, I carried a blossom of dried lotus buds from Yi'an in my breast, and all the sound of silver boughs all day long. the woods were fragrant. Did you smell it? Yes. I wondered, last night, whether you did. How beautiful your dog is. I love him. Yesterday I fought most about your dog, but last night. Last night, I repeated below my breath. I thought of you. Why do you wear the dragon claw? I raised my hand impulsively to my forehead, covering the scar. What do you know of the dragon claw? I muttered. It is the symbol of the Yueh Lao, and Yueh Lao rules the Ku'en-Urin, my stepfather says. My stepfather tells me everything that I know.

Starting point is 01:14:51 We lived in Yianne until I was 16 years old. I am 18 now. That is two years we have lived in the forest. Look, see those scarlet birds. What are they? They are birds of the same colour in Ye'an. Where is Ye'an? I asked with deadly calmness.

Starting point is 01:15:10 Ye'an? I don't know. But you have lived there? Yes, a very long time. Is it across the ocean, Esond? It is across seven oceans and the Great River, which is longer than from the earth to the moon. Who told you that? Who?

Starting point is 01:15:33 My stepfather. He tells me everything. Will you tell me his name? He sund? I don't know it. He is my stepfather. That is all. And what is your name?

Starting point is 01:15:47 You know it? He sund. Yes, but what other name? That is all. He sonned. Have you two names? Why do you look at me so impatiently? Does your stepfather make gold? Have you seen him make it?

Starting point is 01:16:05 Oh yes, he made it also in Ye'an, and I loved to watch the sparks at night, whirling like golden bees. Yiann is lovely, if it is all like our garden, and the gardens around. I can see the thousand bridges from my garden, and the white mountain beyond. And the people, tell me of the people he sound, I urged gently. the people of Yan? I could see them in swarms like ants. Oh, many, many millions, crossing and recrossing the thousand bridges. But how did they look? Did they dress as I do? I don't know. They were very far away, moving specks on the thousand bridges. For 16 years I saw them every day, for my garden, but I never went out of my garden into the streets of Yan,

Starting point is 01:16:57 for my stepfather forbade me. You never saw a living creature nearby in Ian? I asked in despair. My birds? Oh, such tall, wise-looking birds, all over grey and rose-colour. She leaned over the gleaming water and drew her polished hand across the surface. Why do you ask me these questions? she murmured. Are you displeased? Tell me about your stepfather, I insisted. Does he look as I do? Does he dress?

Starting point is 01:17:29 Does he speak as I do? Is he American? American? I don't know. He does not dress as you do, and he does not look as you do. He is old, very, very old. He speaks sometimes as you do, sometimes as they do in Ian. I speak also in both manners. Then speak as they do in Yan, I urged impatiently. Speak as, why? Isand, why are you crying? Have I hurt you? I did not intend. I did not dream of your caring. There, he sund, forgive me. See, I beg you on my knees, here at your feet. I stopped. My eyes fastened on a small golden ball, which hung from her waist by a golden chain. I saw it trembling against her fie. I saw it change colour, now crimson, now purple, now flaming scarlet. It was the symbol of the Coon-Ewan Yuen. She bent over me, and laid her fingers gently on my arm. Why do you ask me such things? She said, while the tears glistened on her lashes.

Starting point is 01:18:37 It hurts me here. She pressed her hand to her breast. It pains. I don't know why. Ah, now your eyes are hard and cold again. You are looking at the golden globe which hangs from my waist. Do you wish to know also what that is? Yes, I muttered.

Starting point is 01:18:56 My eyes fixed on the infernal colour flames, which subsided as I spoke, leaving the ball a pale guilt again. It is the symbol of the Coenuanuan, she said in a trembling voice. Why do you ask? Is it yours? Yes. Where did you get it? I cried harshly. My, my step-far.

Starting point is 01:19:21 Then she pushed me away from her with all the strength of her slender wrists and covered her face. If I slipped my arm about her and drew her to me, if I kissed away the tears that fell slowly between her fingers, if I told her how I loved her, how it cut me to the heart to see her unhappy, after all that is my own business. When she smiled through her tears, the pure love and sweetness in her eyes,

Starting point is 01:19:48 lifted my soul higher than the high moon, vaguely glimmering through the sunlit blue above. My happiness was so sudden, so fierce and overwhelming, that I only knelt there, her fingers clasped in mine, my eyes raised to the blue vault and the glimmering moon. Then something in the long grass beside me, moved close to my knees, and a damp, acrid odour filled my nostrils. "'Isund!' I cried, but the touch of her hand was already gone,

Starting point is 01:20:20 and my two clenched fists were cold and damp with dew. "'Isand!' I called again. My tongue stiff with fright, but I called as one awaking from a dream, a horrid dream, for my nostrils quivered with the damp, acrid odour, and I felt the crab reptile clinging to my knee. Why had the night fallen so swiftly? And where was I? Where? Stiff, chilled, torn and bleeding,

Starting point is 01:20:47 lying flung like a corpse over my own threshold, with voire-licking my face, and Barris stooping above me in the light of a lamp that flared and smoked in the night breeze like a torch. Fah! The choking stench of the lamp aroused me, and I cried out, He sunned! What the devil's the matter with him?

Starting point is 01:21:06 Murted Pierpont, lifting me in his arms like a child. Has he been stabbed, Barris? End of Chapter 6, recording by Ryan Finch. Section 7 of The Maker of Moons and other short stories. This is a Librevox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org. Recording by Ryan Finch

Starting point is 01:21:44 The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers Chapter 7 Chapter 7 In a few minutes, I was able to stand and walk stiffly into my bedroom where Howlett had a hot bath ready and a hotter tumbler of scotch. Pierpont sponged the blood from my throat, where it had coagulated. The cut was slight, almost invisible, a mere puncture from a fawn. A shampoo cleared my mind, and a cold plunge and alcohol friction did the rest.

Starting point is 01:22:28 Now, said Pierpont, swallow your hot scotch and lie down. Do you want a broiled woodcock? Good, I fancy you are coming about. Barrison Pierpont watched me as I sat on the edge of the bed, solemnly chewing on the woodcock's wishbone, and sipping my bordeaux very much at ease. Pierpont sighed his relief. So, he said pleasantly,

Starting point is 01:22:55 it was a mere case of ten dollars or ten days. I thought you had been stabbed. I was not intoxicated. I replied, serenely picking up a bit of salary. Only jagged, inquired Pierpont, full of sympathy. Nonsense, said Barris. Let him alone. Want some more salary, Roy?

Starting point is 01:23:17 It will make you sleep. I don't want to sleep, I answered. When are you and Pierpont going to catch your goldmaker? Barris looked at his watch and closed it with a snap. In an hour, you don't prepare. propose to go with us. But I do. Toss me a cup of coffee, Pierpont, will you? That's just what I propose to do. Howlet, bring the new box of panettellas, the mild imported, and leave the decanter. Now, Barris, I'll be dressing, and you and Pierpont keep still, and listen to what I have to say.

Starting point is 01:23:56 Is that door shut tight? Baris locked it and sat down. Thanks, said I. Barris, where is the city of Yi Yan? An expression akin to terror flashed into Barris's eyes, and I saw him stop breathing for a moment. There is no such city, he said at length. Have I been talking in my sleep? It is a city, I continued calmly,

Starting point is 01:24:28 where the river winds and. the thousand bridges, where the gardens are sweet-scented, and the air is filled with the music of silver boughs. Stop, gasped Barris, and rose trembling from his chair. He had grown ten years older. Roy, interposed Pierpont coolly, what the deuce are you hurrying Barris for? I looked at Barris, and he looked at me. After a second or two, he sat down again. Go on Roy, he said. I must, I answered, for now I am certain that I have not dreamed.

Starting point is 01:25:09 I told them everything, but even as I told it, the whole thing seems so vague, so unreal, that at times I stopped with the hot blood tingling in my ears, for it seemed impossible that sensible men, in the year of our Lord 1896, could seriously discuss such matters. I feared Pierpont, but he did not even smile. As for Barris, he sat with his handsome head sunk on his breast. His unlighted pipe clasped tight in both hands. When I had finished, Pierpont turned slowly and looked at Barris.

Starting point is 01:25:53 Twice he moved his lips, as if about to ask something, and then remained mute. "'Ean is a city,' said Barris, speaking dreamily. "'Was that what you wish to know, Pierpont?' "'We nodded silently. "'Yian is a city,' repeated Barris, "'where the great river winds under the thousand bridges, "'where the gardens are sweet-scented, "'and the air is filled with the music of silver bowels.

Starting point is 01:26:25 "'My lips formed the question, where is the city? It lies, said Barris, almost crarrulously, across the seven oceans and the river, which is longer than from the earth to the moon. What do you mean, said Pierpont? Ah, said Barris, rousing himself with an effort and raising his sunken eyes,

Starting point is 01:26:51 I am using the allegories of another land. Let it pass. Have I not told you, of the Kuanuan? Yian is the centre of the Kuanuan. It lies hidden in the gigantic shadow called China.

Starting point is 01:27:08 Vague and vast as the midnight heavens. A continent unknown. Impenetrable. Impenetrable, repeated Pierpont below his breath. I have seen it,

Starting point is 01:27:23 said Barristernily. I have seen the dead plains of black kifference. Faye, and I have crossed the mountains of death, whose summits are above the atmosphere. I have seen the shadow of Shangi cast across Abadden. Better to die a million miles from Yezd and Aetur-Qa-Qadar than to have seen the white water lotus close in the shadow of Shangi. I have slept among the ruins of Shain Do where the winds never cease, and the Woolwola

Starting point is 01:27:57 is wailed by the dead. And Ye'an? I urged gently. There was an unearthly look on his face as he turned slowly toward me. Ye'an, I have lived there and loved there. When the breath of my body shall cease,

Starting point is 01:28:17 when the dragon's claw shall fade from my arm. He tore up his sleeve, and we saw a white crescent shining above his elbow. When the light of my eyes has faded forever, then, even then, I shall not forget the city of Yian. Why, it is my home, mine, the river and the thousand bridges, the white peak beyond, the sweet-scented gardens, the lilies, the pleasant noise of the summer wind, laden with bee music, and the music of bowels, all these are mine. Do you think because the Ku'enuin feared the dragon's claw on my arm, that my work with them is ended?

Starting point is 01:29:02 Do you think that because Yue Liao could give, that I acknowledge his right to take away? Is he Shangi, in whose shadow the white water lotus dares not raise its head? No, no, he cried violently. It was not from Yueh Liao, the sorcerer, the maker of moons, that my happiness came. it was real. It was not a shadow to vanish, like a tinted bubble. Can a sorcerer create and give a man the woman he loves? Is Youe alo as great as Shangi then?

Starting point is 01:29:37 Shangi is God. In his own time, in his infinite goodness and mercy, he will bring me again to the woman I love, and I know she waits for me at God's feet. In the strange silence that followed, I could hear my heart's double beat, and I saw Pierpont's face, blanched and pitiful. Barris shook himself and raised his head. The change in his ruddy face frightened me.

Starting point is 01:30:07 Heed, he said with a terrible glance at me, The print of the dragon's claw is on your forehead, and Youe-Lao knows it. If you must love, then love like a man, for you will suffer like a soul in hal in the end. What is her name again? Esund, I answered simply. End of Section 7, recording by Ryan Finch. Section 8 of The Maker of Moons and other short stories.

Starting point is 01:30:46 This is Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Recording by Ryan Finch. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers Chapter 8 Chapter 8 At 9 o'clock that night we caught one of the gold makers. I do not know how Barris had laid his trap.

Starting point is 01:31:22 All I saw of the affair can be told in a minute or two. We were posted on the Cardinal Road about a mile below the house, Pierpont and a Pierpont and I with drawn revolvers on one side, under a butternut tree, Barris on the other, a Winchester across his knees. I had just asked Pierpont the hour, and he was feeling for his watch, when far up the road we heard the sound of a galloping horse, nearer, nearer, clattering, thundering past. Then Barris' rifle spat flame, and the dark mass, horse and rider,

Starting point is 01:32:01 crashed into the dust. Pierpont had the half-stunned horseman by the collar in a second. The horse was stone dead. And, as we lighted a pine knot to examine the fellow, Barris's two riders galloped up and drew bridle beside us. Hmm, said Barris with a scowl, it's the Shiner, or I'm a moonshiner. We crowded curiously around to see the Shiner.

Starting point is 01:32:30 He was red-headed, fat and filthy, and his little red eyes burned in his head, like the eyes of an angry pig. Barris went through his pockets, methodically, while Pierpont held him, and I held the torch. The Shiner was a gold mine. Puckets, shirt, bootlegs, hat, even his dirty fists, clutched tight and bleeding, were bursting with lumps of soft yellow gold. Barris dropped this moonshine gold, as we had come to call it, into the pockets of his shooting coat, and withdrew to question the prisoner. He came back again in a few minutes, and motioned his mounted men to take the Shiner in charge. We watched them, rifle on Fye, walking their horses slowly away into the darkness, the Shiner, tightly bound, shuffling sullenly between them.

Starting point is 01:33:28 Who is the shiner? asked Pierpont, slipping the revolver into his pocket again. A moonshiner, counterfeiter, forger, and highwayman, said Barris, and probably a murderer. Drummond will be glad to see him, and I think it likely he will be persuaded to confess to him what he refuses to confess to me. Wouldn't he talk, I asked. Not a syllable. Pierpont, there is nothing more for you to do. For me to do, are you not coming back with us, Barris?

Starting point is 01:34:07 No, said Barris. We walked along the dark road in silence for a while, I, wondering what Barris intended to do, but he said nothing more until we reached our own veranda. Here he held out his hand, first to Pierpont, then to me, saying goodbye. as though he were going on a long journey. How soon will you be back?

Starting point is 01:34:33 I called out to him as he turned away towards the gate. He came across the lawn again and again took our hands with a quiet affection that I had never imagined him capable of. I am going, he said, to put an end to his gold-making tonight. I know that you fellows have never suspected what I was about on my little solitary evening strolls

Starting point is 01:34:57 after dinner, I will tell you, already I have unobtrusively killed four of these goldmakers. My men put them underground, just below the new washout, at the four milestone. There are three left alive, the Shiner, whom we have, another criminal named Yellow, or Yorla, in the vernacular, and the third? The third, repeated Pierpont excitedly. The third I have never yet seen, but I know who and what he is. I know. And if he is of human flesh and blood, his blood will flow to night.

Starting point is 01:35:42 As he spoke, a slight noise across the turf attracted my attention. A mounted man was advancing silently in the starlight over the spongy meadowland. When he came nearer, Barris struck a match, and we saw that he bore a corpse across his saddle-bow. Yorla, Colonel Barris, said the man, touching his slouched hat in salute. This grim introduction to the corpse made me shudder, and after a moment's examination of the stiff, wide-eyed dead man, I drew back. Identified, said Barris, take him to the four-mile post and carry his effects to

Starting point is 01:36:24 Washington, under seal, mind Johnstone. Away cantered the rider with his ghastly burden, and Barris took our hands once more for the last time. Then he went away, gaily, with a jest on his lips, and Pierpont and I turned back into the house. For an hour, we sat moodily smoking in the hall before the fire, saying little, until Pierpont burst out with, I wish Barris had taken one of us with him tonight. The same thought had been running in my mind, but I said,

Starting point is 01:37:01 Barris knows what he's about. This observation neither comforted us, nor opened the lane to further conversation, and after a few minutes, Pierpont said good-night, and called for Howlett and hot water. When he had been warmly tucked away by Howlett, I turned out all but one lamp, sent the dogs away with David. and dismissed Howlett for the night. I was not inclined to retire,

Starting point is 01:37:28 for I knew I could not sleep. There was a book lying open on the table beside the fire, and I opened it, and read a page or two, but my mind was fixed on other things. The window shades were raised, and I looked out at the star-set firmament. There was no moon that night, but the sky was dusted all over,

Starting point is 01:37:50 with sparkling stars, and a pale radiance, brighter even than moonlight, fell over meadow and wood. Far away in the forest, I heard the voice of the wind, a soft, warm wind that whispered a name, Esund. Listen, sighed the voice of the wind, and, listen, echoed the swaying trees with every little leaf a quiver. I listened. Where the long grasses trembled with the cricket's cadence, I heard her name. I sunned.

Starting point is 01:38:28 I heard it in the rustling woodbine, where grey muffs hovered. I heard it in the drip, drip, drip, drip of the dew from the porch. The silent meadow brook whispered her name. The rippling woodland streams repeated it. Esund, esund, until all earth, and sky were filled with the soft frill. Esund, esund, esund, sund, e sund. A night frush sang in a thicket by the porch, and I stole to the veranda to listen.

Starting point is 01:39:04 After a while it began again, a little further run. I ventured out into the road. Again I heard it, far away in the forest, and I followed it, for I knew it was singing of ysond. When I came to the path that leaves the main road and enters the sweet fern covert below the spinny, I hesitated, but the beauty of the night lured me on, and the night-fushes called me from every thicket. In the starry radiance, shrubs, grasses, field-flowers, stood out distinctly, for there was no moon to cast shadows. Meadow and brook, grove and stream, were illumination. by the pale glow. Like great lamps lighted, the planets hung from the high domed sky,

Starting point is 01:39:55 and through their mysterious rays, the fixed stars, calm, serene, stared from the heavens like eyes. I waded on waist-deep through fields of dewy golden-rud, through late clover, and wild-oed oat wastes, through crimson-fruited sweetbriar, blueberry and wild plum, until the low whisper of the wea brook warned me that the path had ended. But I would not stop, for the night air was heavy with the perfume of water-lilies, and far away across the low-wooded cliffs and the wet meadowland beyond. There was a distant gleam of silver, and I heard the murmur of sleepy waterfowl. I would go to the lake.

Starting point is 01:40:44 The way was clear, except for the dense young growth, and the snares of the moose bush. The nightfushes had ceased, but I did not want for the company of living creatures. Slender, quick darting forms crossed my path at intervals, sleek mink that fled like shadows at my step, wiry weasels and fat musk rats, hurrying onward to some trist or killing.

Starting point is 01:41:14 I never had seen so many little woodland creatures on the move at night, night. I began to wonder where they all were going so fast, why they all hurried on in the same direction. Now I passed a hare hopping through the brushwood, now a rabbit scurrying by, flag hoisted. As I entered the beat's second growth, two foxes glided by me. A little further on, a doe crashed out of the underbrush, and close behind her stole her links, eyes shining like coals. He neither paid attention to the dough nor to me, but loped away towards the north. The lynx was in flight. From what? I asked myself, wondering.

Starting point is 01:42:01 There was no forest fire, no cyclone, no flood. If Barris had passed that way, could he have stirred up this sudden exodus? Impossible. Even a regiment in the forest could scarcely have put to rout these frightened creatures. What on earth, thought I, turning to watch the headlong flight of a fisher cat. What on earth has started the beasts out at this time of night? I looked up into the sky. The placid glow of the fixed stars comforted me, and I stepped on through the narrow spruce

Starting point is 01:42:37 bout that leads down to the borders of the lake of the stars. Wild cranberry and moose bush and twined my feet. The wery branches spattered me with moisture, and the thick spruce needles scraped my face as I fredded my way over mossy logs and deep spongy tussocks, down to the level gravel of the lake shore. Although there was no wind, the little waves were hurrying in from the lake, and I heard them splashing among the pebbles. In the pale star glow, thousands of water-lilies lifted their half-closed chalices towards

Starting point is 01:43:16 the sky. I threw myself full length upon the shore, and, chin on hand, looked out across the lake. Splash, splash, came the waves along the shore, higher, nearer, until a film of water, thin and glittering as a knife blade crept up to my elbows. I could not understand it. The lake was rising, but there had been no rain, all along the shore the water was running up. I heard the waves among the sedge grass, the weeds at my side were awash in the ripples. The lilies rocked on the tiny waves, every wet pad rising on the swells, sinking, rising again, until the whole lake was glimmering with undulating blossoms. How sweet and deep was the fragrance from the lilies,

Starting point is 01:44:11 and now the water was ebbing, slowly, and the waves receded, shrinking from the shore rim, until the white pebbles appeared again, shining like froth on a brimming glass. No animal swimming out in the darkness along the shore, no heavy salmon surging could have set the whole shore of flood as though the wash from a great boat was rolling in. Could it have been the overflow, through the weir brook, of some cloudburst far back in the forest. This was the only way I could account for it,

Starting point is 01:44:46 and yet when I had crossed the weir brook, I had not noticed that it was swollen. As I lay there thinking, a faint breeze sprang up, and I saw the surface of the lake, whiten, with lifted lily pads. All around me, the elders were sighing. I heard the forest behind me stir,

Starting point is 01:45:06 the crossed branches rubbing softly, bark against bark. Something, it may have been an owl, sailed out of the night, dipped, soared, and was again engulfed, and far across the water I heard its faint cry, e-sund. Then, first, for my heart was full, I cast myself down upon my face, calling on her name. My eyes were wet when I raised my head, for the spray from the shore was drifting in again, and my heart beat heavily. No more, no more, but my heart lied,

Starting point is 01:45:47 for even as I raised my face to the calm stars, I saw her standing still, close beside me, and very gently I spoke her name. Esond. She held out both hands. I was lonely, She said, and I went to the glade, but the forest is full of frightened creatures, and they frightened me. Has anything happened in the woods? The deer are running towards the heights.

Starting point is 01:46:19 Her hands still lay in mine as we moved along the shore, and the lapping of the water on rock and shallow was no lower than our voices. Why did you leave without a word there at the fountain in the glade, she said? I leave you? Indeed you did, running swiftly with your dogs, plunging through thickets and brush. Oh, you frightened me. Did I leave you so? Yes, after, after? You had kissed me.

Starting point is 01:46:56 Then we leaned down together and looked into the black water, set with stars, just as we had bent together, over. the fountain in the glade. Do you remember? I asked. Yes, see, the water is inlaid with silver stars. Everywhere, white lilies floating, and the stars below, deep, deep down. What is the flower you holding your hand? White water lotus. Tell me about Yu'et Lao, to seal Nubu of the Ku'enuin, I whispered. lifting her head so I could see her eyes. Would it please you to hear? Yes, he sunned.

Starting point is 01:47:42 All that I know is yours now, as I am yours, all that I am. Bend closer. Is it of Yueh Lao you would know? U.S. Liu is De Silnabu of the Kue Nguyen. He lived in the moon. He is old, very, very old. And once, before he came to rule the Kueh Neuon, He was the old man who unites with a silken cord, all predestined couples, after which nothing can prevent their union.

Starting point is 01:48:14 But all that is changed since he came to rule the Ku'enuin. Now he has perverted the shin, the good genii of China, and has fashioned from their warped bodies, a monster, which he calls the shin. This monster is horrible, for it not only lives in its own body, but it has thousands of loathsome satellites, living creatures without mouths, blind, that move when the shin moves like a mandarin and his escort. They are part of the shin, although they are not attached. Yet, if one of these satellites is injured, the shin rives with agony, it is fearful. This huge living bulk, and these creatures spread out like severed fingers that wriggle around a hideous hand. Who told you this?

Starting point is 01:49:11 My stepfather. Do you believe it? Yes, I have seen one of the shin's creatures. Where is sund? Here, in these woods. Then you believe there is a shin here? There must be. Perhaps in the lake.

Starting point is 01:49:30 Oh, shins inhabit lakes? Yes, and the seven seas. I am not afraid here. Why? Because I wear the symbol of the Kuanuan. Then I am not safe, I smiled. Yes you are, for I hold you in my arms. Shall I tell you more about the shin?

Starting point is 01:49:54 When the shin is about to do to death a man, the yef hounds gallop through the night. What are the yefhounds he sunned? The yefhounds are dogs without heads. They are the spirits of murdered children, which pass through the woods at night, making a wailing noise. Do you believe this?

Starting point is 01:50:17 Yes, for I have worn the yellow lotus. The yellow lotus? Yellow is the symbol of faith. Where? In ye y'an. She said faintly. After a while, I said, Isand, you know there is a god.

Starting point is 01:50:38 God and Shangia won. Have you ever heard of Christ? No, she answered softly. The wind began again among the treetops. I felt her hands closing in mine. Isund, I asked again, Do you believe in sorcerers? Yes.

Starting point is 01:51:00 The Ku'enuan are sorcerers. U.A. Lao is a sorcerer. Have you seen sorcery? Yes, the reptile satellite of the shin. Anything else? My charm, the golden ball, the symbol of the Ku'enuan. Have you seen it change? Have you seen the reptiles rive?

Starting point is 01:51:25 Yes, said I shortly, and then remained silent, for a sudden shiver of apprehension had seized me. Barris also had spoken gravely, ominously, of the sorcerers, the Ku'enuin, and I had seen with my own eyes the graven reptiles turning and twisting on the glowing globe. Still, said I aloud, God lives and sorcery is but a name. Ah, murmured his sonned, drawing closer to me. They say, in Yian, the Ku'an Uan live, God is but a name. They lie, I whispered fiercely.

Starting point is 01:52:10 Be careful, she pleaded. They may hear you. Remember that you have the mark of the dragon's claw on your brow. What of it, I asked, thinking also of the white mark on Barris's arm. Ah, don't you know that those who are marked with the dragon's claw, are followed by Yue Lau, for good or for evil, and the evil means death if you offend him. Do you believe that? I asked him patiently. I know it, she sighed.

Starting point is 01:52:43 Who told you all this? Your stepfather? What in heaven's name is he then? A Chinaman? I don't know. He is not like you. Have... have you told him anything about me? He knows about you. No, I have told him nothing. Ah, what is this? See, it is a cord, a cord of silk about your neck, and about mine.

Starting point is 01:53:12 Where did that come from? I asked astonished. It must be, it must be U.A. Lao, who binds me to you. It is as my stepfather said. He said U.A. La would bind us. Nonsense. I said almost roughly, and seized the silken cord, but to my amazement it mounted in my hand like smoke.

Starting point is 01:53:36 What is all this damnable jugglery? I whispered angrily, but my anger vanished as the words were spoken, and a convulsive shudder shook me to the feet. Standing on the shore of the lake, a stone's throw away, was a figure, twisted and bent, a little old man, blowing sparks from a live coal which he howled in his naked hand. The coal glowed with increasing radiance, lighting up the school-like face above it, and threw a red glow over the sands at his feet. But the face, the ghastly Chinese face on which the light flickered, and the snaky slitted eyes sparkling as the coal glowed hotter.

Starting point is 01:54:24 Coal. It was not a coal, but a golden globe, staining the night with crimson flames. It was the symbol of the Ku'enuin. See? See? Gasp de sund, trembling violently. See the moon rising from between his fingers. Oh, I thought it was my stepfather, and it is Yue Liao, the maker of moons. No, no, it is my stepfather. Father. Ah, God, they are the same. Frozen with terror, I stumbled to my knees, groping from my revolver, which bulged in my coat pocket, but something howled me, something which bound me like a web in a thousand strong, silky meshes. I struggled and turned, but the web grew tighter.

Starting point is 01:55:19 It was all over us, all around us, drawing, pressing us into a little. each other's arms, until we lay side by side, bound, hand and body and foot, palpitating, panting like a pair of netted pigeons. And the creature on the shore below? What was my horror to see a moon, huge, silvery, rise like a bubble from between his fingers, mount higher, higher into the still air, and hang a loft in the midnight sky, while another moon rose from his fingers, and another, and yet another, until the vast span of heaven was set with moons, and the earth sparkled like a diamond in the white glare. A great wind began to blow from the east, and it bore to our ears a long, mournful howl,

Starting point is 01:56:12 a cry so unearthly that for a moment our heart stopped. The yefhounds sobbedy sund. Do you hear? They are passing through the front. forest, the shin is near. Then all around us in the dry sedge grasses came a rustle as if some small animals were creeping and a damp, acrid odour filled the air. I knew the smell, I saw the spideroo crab-like creatures swarm out around me and drag their soft, yellow, hairy bodies across the shrinking grasses. They passed, hundreds of them, poisoning the air.

Starting point is 01:56:54 tumbling, riving, crawling, with their blind, mouthless heads raised. Birds, half asleep and confused by the darkness, fluttered away before them in helpless fright. Rabbit sprang from their forms, weasels glided away, like flying shadows. What remained of the forest creatures rose and fled from the loathsome invasion? I heard the squeak of a terrified hair. the snort of a stampeding deer, and the lumbering gallop of a bear, and all the time I was choking, half suffocated by the poisoned air. Then, as I struggled to free myself from the silken snare about me, I cast a glance of deadly fear at the sorcerer below, and at the same moment I saw him turn in his tracks. Halt! cried a voice from the bushes.

Starting point is 01:57:52 Barris, I shouted, half leaping up in my agony. I saw the sorcerer spring forward. I heard the bang, bang, bang, of a revolver, and, as the sorcerer fell on the water's edge, I saw Barris jump out into the white glare and fire again, once, twice, three times, into the riving figure at his feet. Then an awful thing occurred. Up out of the black lake reared a shadow,

Starting point is 01:58:29 a nameless, shapeless mass, headless, sightless, gigantic, gaping from end to end. A great wave struck Barris, and he fell. Another washed him up on the pebbles, another whirled him back into the water, and then, and then the thing fell over him, and I fainted. This, then, is all that I know concerning Yue Liao and the shin. I do not fear the ridicule of scientists or of the press, for I have told the truth. Barris is gone, and the thing that killed him is alive today in the lake of the stars, while the spider-like satellites roam through the cardinal woods.

Starting point is 01:59:20 The game has fled, the forests around the lake are empty of any living creatures, save the reptiles, that creep when the shin moves in the depths of the lake. General Drummond knows what he is lost in Barris, and we, Pierpont and I know what we have lost also. His will we found in the drawer, the key of which he had handed me. It was wrapped in a bit of paper, on which was written. Uweilau, the sorcerer, is here in the Cardinal Woods. I must kill him, or he will kill me.

Starting point is 02:00:00 He made and gave to me the woman I loved. He made her. I saw him. He made her out of a white water lotus bud. When our child was born, he came again before me, and demanded from me the woman I loved. Then, when I refused, he went away, and that night my wife and child vanished from my side, and I found upon her pillow,

Starting point is 02:00:29 a white lotus bud. Roy, the woman of your dream, Esund, may be my child. God help you if you love her, for you, Elau will give, and take away, as though he was Shangi, which is God. I will kill Yue Liao before I leave this forest, or he will kill me. Franklin Barris Now the world knows what Barris fought of the Ku'enuin and of Yuay Lao. I see that the newspapers are just becoming excited over the glimpses that Li Hong Chang has afforded them of black cafe and the demons of the Ku'enuan. The Ku'enuin are on the move.

Starting point is 02:01:17 Pierpont and I have dismantled the shooting box in the Cardinal Woods. We hold ourselves ready at a moment's notice to join and lead the first government party to drag the lake of the stars and cleanse the forest of the crab reptiles. But it will be necessary that a large force assembles and a well-armed force, for we never have found the body of U.A. Lao, and, living or dead, I fear him. Is he living? Pyrpont, who found Isand and myself, lying unconscious on the lakeshore the morning after, saw no trace of corpse or blood on the sands. He may have fallen into the lake, but I fear and Esan fears that he is alive. We never were able to find either her dwelling place,

Starting point is 02:02:16 all the glade and the fountain again. The only thing that remains to her of her former life is the gold serpent in the Metropolitan Museum and her golden globe, the symbol of the Kuanuan, but the latter no longer change his colour. David and the dogs are waiting for me in the courtyard as I write. Pierpont is in the gunroom, loading shells,

Starting point is 02:02:44 and Howlett brings him more, Mug after mug of my ale from the wood. Isand bends over my desk. I feel her hand on my arm, and she is saying, Don't you think you have done enough today, dear? How can you write such silly nonsense without a shadow of truth or foundation? End of Section 8, recording by Ryan Finch. Section 9 of The Maker of Moons and Other Stories.

Starting point is 02:03:20 a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are on the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. The Maker of Moons and Other Stories by Robert W. Chambers, Section 9, The Silent Land. There never was any more inception than there is now, nor any more youth or age than there is now, and will never be any more perfection than there is now, nor any more heaven or hell than there is now, Walt Whitman. And the woman fled into the wilderness,

Starting point is 02:04:05 where she hath a place prepared for God. Chapter 1 Ferris and I had had a dispute, a bitter one, and as usual Ferris had pushed his cap over his eyes until the hair on the back of his head stuck out. You can't do it, he said, shoving both hands up to the wrists in his canvas fishing coat. I'll prove it, said I. What a stubborn mule you are, Ferris.

Starting point is 02:04:33 Stubborn nothing, he retorted. You and your theories must have your little airing, I suppose, but I don't intend to assist. I'm right sometimes, I said. Sometimes you're wrong too, said Ferris. Then he walked off toward the cliffs, whistling, uncompromising, untidy. There's a hole in your leggings, I called after him, but he did not deign to answer me. Obstant ass, I thought, for we were very fond of each other. If he wastes his time with the silver doctor, he'll rue it. Then I looked at Solomon and lighted a cigarette. Solomon was a bird,

Starting point is 02:05:11 an enervating bird of the ibis species, wrinkled and wizened like the mummies of his native land, which was Egypt. The bird was mine. a sarcastic tribute from Ferris, and the bird and the sarcasm both bore directly on the only disputes which ever arose between Ferris and myself. The cause of these disputes was a trout fly, an innocent toy of scarlet and tinsel known to anglers as the red ibis. I swore by it. Ferris swore at it. In the long winter nights when the streams gurgled under the frozen forests and the lake was a sheet of soggy snow, Ferris and I loathed by it. Ferris and I loafed before the fire, pulling tangled masses of leaders and flies about, and dragging the silken lines over the rugs to hear the reels click.

Starting point is 02:06:00 Every fly known to the brethren of the angle was discussed. Every fly except the red ibis. We both honestly tried to avoid the bone of contention. We talked of duns and hackles, and spinners and gnats. But in spite of every precaution, the red ibis would occasionally rise like a fiery specter between us, and then we disputed vehemently. No angler, with a rag of self-respect, would use the ibis, said Ferris with that obstinate shrug, which added gall to the insult, and I, well, the crowning insult came when Ferris sent to

Starting point is 02:06:35 Cairo and imported a live Egyptian ibis for me. Pull out his tail feathers when you're short of red ibis, gasped Ferris, weak with laughter as I stood silently inspecting the bird in my studio. I'll send him to Central Park, said I, swallowing my wrath. But I thought better of it, and Solomon, the wizened, became an important member of my household. The bird was a mystery. I never cared to encounter his filmy eyes. Centuries seemed to roll away when he unclosed them.

Starting point is 02:07:05 Visions of tombs and obelisks filled my mind, glimpses of desert sunsetsets and the warm waters of lazy rivers. His black shriveled head, bear as a skull, lay like a little. a withered gourd among the garish flame-coloured feathers on his breast. "'Solly,' said I, when Ferris disappeared below the cliff, "'do you want a frog?' The bird unclosed one eye. I went to a pail of water in which I kept minnows, and Solomon followed me, solemnly hopping. "'Help yourself, Solly,' said I, uncovering the pail.

Starting point is 02:07:38 I called him Solly because I wished to put myself ease with this relic of Egyptian royalty. The splendour of Pharaoh's court had not dimmed this hoary prophet's eye, which was piercing when the sleepy film left it, piercing enough to make me feel thousands of years young and very bourgeois. In vain I dressed him as sully. In vain I gave him chocolate creams. He was the aristocrat, the venerable high priest of an empire dead. And I was his man-servant, his ass, and his ox. Solomon dabbed once or twice at a sporting. minnow, pecked pensively at the handle of the pale, swallowed a pebble or two, and then ruffling his scarlet feathers, sidled aimlessly back into the sedge of the frog pond. I watched him for a while, brooding dreamily among the rushes, but he paid no further attention either to me or to the small green frogs that squatted on the lily pads, or floated half submerged, watching him with enormous

Starting point is 02:08:37 eyes. A noisy blue jay flitted through the orchard and alighted on a crabapple tree solely to insult Solomon. Of course he was unsuccessful, and his language became so utterly unfit for publication that I moved away, shocked, and annoyed. The sun was very hot. It glittered with a blinding light across the rippling pond, where dragonflies darted and sailed and chased each other over the water, or flitted among the clouds of dancing midges, searching for prey. A sweet smell came to me from orchard and sedge. There was an odour of scented rushes in the air, and the lingering summer wind bore puffs of perfume from cloverfields and meadows fragrant with flowering mint. I looked again toward the cliffs. Ferris was not in sight.

Starting point is 02:09:25 Obstudent mule, I thought, and picking up my rod and fly-book, I saunted toward the forest. Ferris, said I to myself, is after that big trout by the red rock rapids, but he'll never raise him with a silver doctor, and he'll come home in a devil of a temper. I sat down on a clump of sweet fern and joined my rod. When I'd run the silk through the guides and had fastened the nine-foot leader, I opened my flybook and sought for a red ibis fly. There was not one in the book. I must send to New York tomorrow, I thought, turning the aluminium leaves impatiently.

Starting point is 02:10:02 Fancy me being out of red ibis. I selected a yellow oak fly for the dropper, and a nameless gnat for the handfly, and, drawing the leader down to the real, started on again, carrying my rod with a tip behind me. The forest was dim and moist and silent, where the sunshine fell behind the ferns of few flies buzzed in the gilded warmth. But except for this, and a strange grey bird which flitted before me silently as I walked, there was no sign of life, nothing stirring, not a rustle among the leaves, not a movement, not a bird moat. Over moss and dead leaves

Starting point is 02:10:38 A glisten in the pale forest light I passed Over crumbling logs Damp and lichen covered Half submerged in little pools And the musty fragrance of the forest mould Set me dreaming of dryads And forms and lost altars Whose marbles stained with tender green

Starting point is 02:10:55 Glimmer in ancient forests This belt of woods Was always silent I often wondered why There were no birds none except this strange great creature which kept flitting ahead of me, uttering no note. It was the first bird I had ever seen in the western forest belt, the first bird except Solomon, who occasionally accompanied me on my trips to the long

Starting point is 02:11:18 pool in the river, which borders the wooded belt on the west. It was an unknown bird to me. I could catch fleeting glimpses of it, and its long slender wings and dark eyes brought no recollections to my mind. To the north, south, and east the woods were found. full of thrushes and woodpeckers, full of game too, grouse, deer, foxes and an occasional mink and otter, but the shy wood creatures left the western forest belt alone. And even the trout seemed to shun the dark pools where the river swept the edges of the wood until it curved out

Starting point is 02:11:52 again by Link's peak. I say the trout shunned it, but there was one, a monstrous fish, wily and subtle, that lived in the long amber pool below. Early in the season Ferris had raised him with a silver doctor, and Ferris' madness on the silver doctor dated from that moment. His mania for this fly led him to use it in-seasoned and out, and no amount of persuasion or of ridicule moved him. Because, said I, you had a silver doctor snapped off by a big fish. Do you imagine it's the only fly in the world? It's good enough for me, he said.

Starting point is 02:12:28 There were two things which Ferris used to say that maddened me. One was, the silver doctor's good enough for me. The other was, New York's good enough for me. We never discussed the latter question after Ferris had alluded to me as a Latin quarter nondescript, but the battle still raged over the merits of the silver doctor and the red ibis. When I came to the wooded slope which overhung the river, I buttoned my shooting coat and began a cautious descent, trailing my rod carefully. I headed for the foot of the pool for one of my theories,

Starting point is 02:13:02 which ruffled Ferris, was that certain pools should be fished upstream. This was one of those pools, according to my theory. And when I had reached the rocks and had waded into the rushing water, I faced upstream and cast straight out into the rapids, which curled among the boulders at the foot of the pool. At the second cast, I hooked a snag and waded out to disengage it. Fumbling about under the foaming water, I found my fly embedded in something which refused to give way.

Starting point is 02:13:29 I tugged cautiously and gently. It was useless. Then I rolled up my sleeve and plunged my arm into the water up to the shoulder. This time it did give way. I drew out my arm and held up something glistening and dripping, in which my hook was firmly embedded. It was a shoe, small, pointed, high-heeled, and buckled, with a silver buckle. This, said I, is most extraordinary, and I sat down on a flat rock, holding the shoe close. to my eyes. Beznard, Paris, I read stamped on the lining over the hill, and the buckle was of sterling silver. I sat for a moment, thinking. Our cottage, Ferris and mine, was the only house in the whole region that I knew of, except the old house in the glades by the white moss spring. That was unoccupied and had been for years, a crumbling abandoned farm, tottering among

Starting point is 02:14:25 the young growth of the advancing forest. But as I sat thinking, I remembered early in the season having seen smoke above the trees once when we're in the neighbourhood of the White Moss Spring, and I recollected that Ferris had spoken of poachers. We'd been too lazy to investigate, too lazy even to remember it until, as I sat there holding the small shoe, the incident came back to me, and I wondered whether anybody had taken up an abode in the abandoned farm. I didn't like it. The forests and streams belonged to Ferris and me, and although up to the present, moment it had not been necessary to employ many keepers. I began to fear that our woods were being invaded and that we should soon be obliged to find protection. I looked at the shoe, turned it over

Starting point is 02:15:08 carefully in my hands. It was new, had scarcely been worn at all. Poo, I thought. The owner of this could scarcely do much damage among the game, but of course there may be bigger shoes in company with this, and those bigger shoes had better look out. My first impulse was to throw the shoe into the underbrush. I started to do this and then carefully laid it down on the sun-warmed rock. Let it dry, I muttered. It's evidence for Ferris. But as it happened, Ferris was not destined to see the shoe. End of Section 9. Recording by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. Section 10 of the Maker of Moons and other stories. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit

Starting point is 02:16:07 Librovox.org. Recording by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands, The Maker of Moons and other stories by Robert W. Chambers, Section 10, The Silent Land. Chapter 2. I fished the pool twice, once up and once down, and heaven knows I fished it conscientiously, but no trout rose to the flies, although I changed the cast half a dozen times and even violated my feelings by tying a silver doctor. It was true I glanced up and down the river to see where the ferris was in sight before I did so. The wily old devil won't come up, said I to myself, meaning the trout. I'll give him a rest for a while. And I sat down on the rock where the pointed shoe was drying in the sun, laying my rod beside me.

Starting point is 02:16:58 What's the use of speculating about this shoe, I thought, and straight away began to speculate? The strange grey bird, with the slender wings and dark eyes, slipped through the undergrowth along the opposite side of the pool, but had uttered no call, and I caught only fleeting glimpses of it at intervals. Once, for a moment, it flitted quite near, and a sudden sense of having seen it before came over me, but after a little thinking I found myself associating it, with a rare bird I had once noticed in all the France, and of course it was impossible that this could be a French bird. It was an association of ideas, said I to myself, looking at the mark and the slim shoe. Bresnard, Paris, and I began speculating upon the owner of the shoe.

Starting point is 02:17:45 Young, probably. Slender, probably, pretty. The giv's take the shoe, I muttered, picking up my rob. Presently I laid it down again softly. now perhaps said i to myself this little shoe has tapped the gravel of the luxembourg patted the asphalt of the boulevard de italians brush the lawns of the boars ah me ah me the devil take the shoe the sun beat down upon the rock the little shoe in my hand was nearly dry no said i to myself i'll not show it to ferris and i'll not shove it into my pocket no for a ferris find it will rag me to death. I'll throw it away. I stood up. I'll just throw it away, I repeated aloud to encourage myself, for I didn't want to throw it away. One, two, three, said I. With an attempt at

Starting point is 02:18:40 carelessness which changed to astonishment, as I raised my eyes to the bank above whither I had intended to hurl the shoe. For an instant I stood rigid, my right hand clutching the shoe, arrested in mid-air. Then I placed the shoe very carefully upon the rock beside me, and took off my shooting cap. I beg your pardon, said I. I did not see you. I stood silent, politely holding my shooting cap against my stomach, but I was confused,

Starting point is 02:19:08 for she had answered me in French, pure Parisian French, and my ideas were considerably unbalanced. I'm afraid I stared a little. I tried not to. She was slender and very young. Her dark eyes half-shadowed under black lashes made me think of the strange dark-eyed bird that had followed me. she sat on the crooked trunk of a tree overhanging the bank her feet negligently crossed her hands in the pockets of a leather shooting-jacket i'm afraid to say how short her skirts were but of course this is the age of bicycles and shooting-kirts

Starting point is 02:19:40 madame i said trying to keep my eyes from one small stockinged foot i have found a shoe my shoe monsieur she said serenely permit me madame said i mademoiselle said she permit me a thousand pardons mademoiselle to return to you your shoe it was very stupid of me to lose it said she it is nearly dry said i will mademoiselle pardon the uncommitted stupidity of which i was nearly guilty you were going to throw it away said she i almost perpetrated that unpardonable crime give it to me she said with a gracious gesture now when she smiled i smiled too and picking up the shoe waded across the pool to the bank under the to her. May I come up? I asked. Pardon, monseur. How else am I to get my shoe? I clambered up, hanging to the limbs and branches. It was a miracle I did not break my neck. Why did you not take the path? She asked. Do you not know you might fall, and all for a shoe? But such a shoe. True, the buckle is silver. Which I claim the privilege of buckling, said I, dragging myself up beside her. She deliberately held out her slim, stockinged foot, and I slipped the shoe on it. The silver buckle was not easily

Starting point is 02:21:01 buckled. There were difficulties, for the tongue had become bent and needed straightening. You might take the shoe off again to arrange the buckle, she said. I can straighten it without that, said I. When at last the buckle was ploughed, we had been talking so long that I had told her my name, my residence, my profession, and more or less about Ferris. I don't know why I told her all this. She seemed to be interested. Then I asked her if she lived at the brambles. The brambles, she repeated, looking at her shoes. The deserted farm by the white moss spring. Yes, not alone, I have a housekeeper. Aged? Very, and fierce, but I shall do as I please. Did you buy the house? No, it was empty, and I walked in. Next day they sent my twelve trunks from Lin's

Starting point is 02:21:49 centre. The furniture was good. And you have been there for too much. Yes. I have a horse and dog cart too. Rose drives to Lynn Center twice a week for the marketing. I think I shall keep a cow. I generally do what I please. I choose to amuse myself with you just now. This, said I, is a very strange history.

Starting point is 02:22:10 Did you know that Mr. Ferris and myself existed? It is not a strange history. No. I once saw your house as I passed through the forest belt, but there was nobody there on the lawn except an ordinary person with little side whiskers. Howlett! I exclaimed. Comment? she asked. A servant, an Englishman.

Starting point is 02:22:31 Then I told her all about Ferris and myself. How he came every spring to the clover cottage with Howlitt, a cook and three dogs as retinue. How he fished in summer and shot in the autumn. How twice a year men came all the way from Lynn's Centre to Howls our hay and repair damages. How the gamekeepers lurked at the mouth of the valley, miles to the south to prevent poachers from entering.

Starting point is 02:22:54 But we concluded it was not necessary for keepers to patrol the woods inside the valley. Now, I said, the poachers are in our very midst, here established, and such dangerous poachers too. What shall we do with them, mademoiselle? You mean me, she said, with wide open eyes. No, said I. I do not mean you. You are very welcome in our valley.

Starting point is 02:23:16 But I am sure you do mean me, said she, smiling. Then we talked about the things. things of Paris and France, of trout and flies and ferris of Normandy, and the beauty of the world. But it was nearly five o'clock before we spoke of love. I have never loved, she said, looking at me calmly. Oh, how unnecessary, I thought, for I had believed her clever. But, she continued gravely, I think it is time that I did. I think so too, said I. I should like to fall in love, said she. I have nothing else to do. I always, also am very idle, I said.

Starting point is 02:23:54 Then, said she, the opportunity only is lacking. I think I muttered something about poachers. I was not perfectly cool. Now, said she, I know you mean me. Ah, said I, I mean a keener poacher than you and I. A free rover more to be dreaded than an army of riflemen. Then you don't mean me, said she. I shook my head.

Starting point is 02:24:17 Do you know, said she, I should very much like to be the heroine. of a romance. I will aid you to be one, I said hastily. We had known each other nearly three hours. Let us, said she, pretend that this is the forest of Versailles in the time of Louis Quince. Let us indeed, I cried enthusiastically. And you are a count, and you are Marquise, named Diane. It is my real name.

Starting point is 02:24:45 Diane, and you, my name is Louis. It will do. You may kiss my hand. I wondered just where she was going to draw the line. Then, the devil prompting, I entered recklessly into the most extraordinary adventure. And what an adventure! Words, thoughts even fouled me as I looked at her. The woodland made with the wonderful eyes!

Starting point is 02:25:07 There was no mistake in the challenge in her eyes. The half-innocent smile, the utter disregard, for every human conventionality. How, thought I? How can such a woman wear a childlike face? I had known coquettes, many, but the depth of this strange girl's recklessness I feared to sound. I dreaded almost to understand. She is too deep, said I to myself, too deep for me, and I looked her questioningly in the eyes. I don't know why or how. I never shall know probably, but a sudden conviction sees me that she was as innocent as she looked.

Starting point is 02:25:43 Imagine a man coming to such a conclusion. I felt inclined to laugh, and yet I was as first firmly convinced as though I had known her all my life. You may kiss my hand, she said, and hurled it out to me. I did. I wished I hadn't a moment later, for I tumbled head over heels in love with her, and fairly gassed at the idea. Lovers in the court of Louis Quince resembled us, I think, she said, after a long silence.

Starting point is 02:26:10 We will try to make the resemblance perfect, said I, taking both her hands in mine. She bent her head a little. there was just a shadow of resistance. Then I kissed her on the lips. There are moments in a man's life when he does not know whether he is a foot or a horseback. I remember that I sat down on the bank

Starting point is 02:26:29 and carefully uprooted several ferns. When I had regained control of my voice, the little maid was very silent. I asked her to tell me of herself, if it might please her to do so. I was born, said the little maid, resting her small head on one hand, in Rouen.

Starting point is 02:26:46 Do you know Ruene? Yes? Papa was an officer, and he killed his general when I was seven years old. It was something about Ma'am. I never saw her again. Then we went to Canada very quickly. Papa died there. I had been in a conference school.

Starting point is 02:27:03 I ran away and went to New York. I'm 19, and very reckless. Yes, Diane. I have a great deal of money in banknotes. It was Papa's. I've never counted it. It is in a big trunk. i understand english but do not care to speak it i do not care what becomes of me i wish it were over this life you are the first man who has ever kissed me do you believe me yes diane

Starting point is 02:27:32 i wonder you do let us go down to the river where the sunlight falls the descent is easy diane you must not go with you will you give me your hand come did you see that shiq shy gray bird said the little maid hesitating on the slope her hand in mine i could not see it for we had already begun the descent end of section ten read by adrian stroet turks and kakos islands section eleven of the maker of moons and other stories this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librovocs dot org recording by adrian stroet turks and caicos islands the maker of moons and other stories by robert w chambers section eleven the silent land chapter three where the mischief have you been all day demanded ferris that evening as we sat on the verandah after dinner well said i lighting a pipe when you had your fit of salts and went off for a brace of trout did you see anything worth seeing i saw no trout said said I. Unfortunate, eh? Oh, not very, I said, looking at Solomon.

Starting point is 02:29:04 Not very. Look at that ridiculous bird, Ferris. Swallowed a frog the wrong way, said Ferris, watching the solemn contortions of Solomon. He looks like a little dew in a crimson overcoat with a stomachache. What fly did you use, Lewis? Everything couldn't raise a fin. Oh, you've been trying the old devil down by the Westwoods. I should think you'd let him alone.

Starting point is 02:29:28 It's useless, yawned Ferris. I'm going to try him every day till I get him, said I, try not to lie more than necessary. Of course you're not infringe. Infringe, not much. You can have the whole west woods to your own sweet self. But you're an idiot. Not at all, said I, thankfully, and in a burst of confidence, I confessed that I'd used a silver doctor. There was a momentary gleam of triumph in Ferris's eyes, but he is very decent about it and asked me

Starting point is 02:29:58 most politely, for the loan of a red ibis. Oh, men of the busy world, learn courtesy from the angler. There are other things you need not learn from anglers. My dear fellow, said I, more touched than I had been for a long time. I haven't a red ibis left. I shall write Conroy tonight before I retire. If you really do want an ibis, I will catch Solomon and pluck a plume from his tail feathers. I don't want it enough to inconvenience you or hurt Solomon's feelings, said Ferris loud.

Starting point is 02:30:28 After a long interval of silent smoking, Ferris rose and yawned at the moon. Do you know what a spirit bird is, Ferris? I asked, wrapping my pipe on the arm of my chair. Spirit bird, the French one, the Wazoo Saint-Aspray. Yes, I've seen one in the Vosges. Gray, with slim wings and big dark eyes. That's the bird, said Ferris. Why? Well, I thought I saw one today. Of course, that's impossible. Of course, said Ferris, yawning again. I'm going to turn in, good-night, old chap. Good night, said I, tapping nervously on the veranda with my pipe.

Starting point is 02:31:10 Howlett came out a few moments later with my waiting shoes, which he'd been oiling. Well, said I, are the hobnails all right? Serving old nails is out, sir, replied Howlett, holding up the shoes for my inspection. Put them in as soon as they're dry. Did you oil the bamboo? Good. Is my lamp lighted? Put it out. And you need not sit up, Howlett. I'm going for a stroll. Thank you, sir, said Howlett. And Solomon, sir? Now it was one of my delights to see Howlett Howl's Solomon. The wily Ibis loved to snoop about in the moonlight, and he was always ready for Howlett when that dignified servant came to round him up.

Starting point is 02:31:51 I looked at Solomon, who stood gloomily brooding among the water lilies. He ought to be in bed, said I. Howlett descended the veranda steps with arms extended, but Solomon sidled out into the pond. Howlett pleaded earnestly. He flattered and cajoled, but Solomon was obdurate. Now think I say do move him, sir, said Howlett stiffly. He is vicious tonight, sir. Then take the boat, I said. Howlett and a boat chasing a sulky ibis was one of those rare spectacles that few were permitted to witness. Once a week Solomon turned vicious, and then, at Ferris's and my suggestion, Howlett took to the boat.

Starting point is 02:32:32 A terrestrial howlet was solemnly ludicrous, but an aquatic howlid was impossible. Of course Ferris and I never laughed, that is, allowed, but we usually felt rather weak after it was over. In the course of half an hour, Solomon, mad, wet and rumpled, was cornered by Howlett, and clasped to his stiff shirt front, muddy bedraggled, and ewelled. kicking. Are you not mortified, you bad bird? said I, as Howlett passed toward the kitchen, where Kitty the cook was airing his straw-thatched house. A vicious bird, sir, good night, sir, murmured Howlett. Good night, Howlett. Breakfast at seven tomorrow, said I, and sauntered out into the

Starting point is 02:33:14 moonlit valley. I'd been walking almost half an hour when it occurred to me that I should be in bed. What the juice of my sprinting about in the valley at this hour for, I thought, looking around. Over the shadowy meadows, the night mist hung, silvered by the moonlight, and I heard the meadow brook rippling through the sedge. Slender birches glimmered among the alders, and all the little poplar leaves were quivering, but I felt no breath of air. Where the dark forest fringed the meadow, I saw the moonbeams sparkling on lonely pools, but the depths of the woodland were black and impenetrable, and the forest itself was vague as the mist that shrouded it. For a long time I stood, looking at the stars in the mist, and little by little I came to

Starting point is 02:34:00 understand why I was there alone. I knew I should go on, I wished to, but I lingered in the moonlight staring at earth and sky until something moved in the thicket beside me, and I followed it, knowing it was the spirit bird. When I entered the forest, I could scarcely see my hand, but I felt a trodden path beneath my feet, and I heard before me the whisper of soft wings, and presently I heard the river, rushing through the rocks of the western forest, and when I came to the wooded bank, the moonlight fell all around me. There was a narrow strip in the forest, overgrown with silver birch and poplar, and lighted by the moon, but I searched it in vain, up and down, up and down, always with the whisper of soft

Starting point is 02:34:43 wings in my ears. At last I called Diane And before I called again Her hands lay close in mine I came Said the little maid Because you were coming

Starting point is 02:34:57 Who told you I was coming Told me No one told me Roses asleep Why did you come Why did you Diane I Because you came

Starting point is 02:35:10 How did you find my bower Your bower diana it is yours i know i call it mine i call it the silent land it is very silent i said it is always silent no birds not even the noise of the water do you think it is sad there are times when sounds the song of living creatures and the countless movements of things that live trouble me then i come here there are flowers the air is very sweet too sweet too soon sweet. What is the perfume? The trees are heavy with fragrance. Ah, are you tired, Diane? No. It is the odor of blossoms. I sleep here sometimes. Your hair is loose. How long it is. Is it the perfume from your hair? Is it your breath? The blossoms are very sweet. The moon is gone. There is a star. How soft your breath is. I do not see the star.

Starting point is 02:36:14 Where, Lewis? It is there. It is there. Clouds are veiling it. There is a mist over all. It is my hair over your eyes. End of Section 11. Read by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands.

Starting point is 02:36:41 Section 12 of the Maker of Moons and other stories. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are on the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit librivox.org. Recording by Adrian Stroett, Turks and Caicos Islands, The Maker of Moons and Other Stories, by Robert W. Chambers. Section 12, The Silent Land.

Starting point is 02:37:07 Chapter 4 Howlett, said I one warm afternoon, Solomon is unendurable. He follows me everywhere, and I wish you would see that he minds his own business. A. Hobbsdon at bird, sir, said, how it and vicious when crossed which i scorn his hangar beg pardon sir for he's took to bite him when his victuals disagrees has he bitten you twice sir which appellee my hise is uninjured though hained at by his beak this is intolerable said i you must punish him howlitt ow sir tie him up when he bites have those flies come from conroy's no thinker come sir where is mr ferris mr ferris is whipping of the amber pool sir with three sea trout to the good and a brace of square tails solomon followed him sir and is observing the sport

Starting point is 02:38:04 then i can get away without that red feathered pool pry tiptoeing after me i thought and sent howlett for my rod case tell mr ferris when he returns that i may not be back until dinner i said when howlett brought the case i selected a four-ounce split bamboo pocketed my fly-book and tin box of floating flies for dry fishing picked up a landing-net and walked away toward the western woodland whistling i had not fished for three weeks although every day i went away into the western woods with rod and creel. Ferris laughed at my infatuation for the long pool, where the great fish lay and jeered at me when I returned evening after evening with no trout, although the river, except the western stretch, was full of trout. He had never come to the pool. I should have seen him from the silent land if he had, but Solomon sneaked after me on several occasions. Once I caught him craning his neck and peering into the bower, our bower, and as I did not care to have him pilot Ferris thither, I hustled him off. The woods were fragrant and warm, stained by the afternoon sun.

Starting point is 02:39:09 The quiet murmur of the brook came to me from leafy thickets as I walked, and I heard the river rushing in the distance and the summer wind among the pines. White clouds shimmered in the blue above, sailing, sailing God knows where, but they passed across the azure, one by one, drifting to the south, and I watched them, with the vague longing that comes to men who watch white sails at sea. I had turned my steps toward the long pool, for I decided to fish that afternoon, wishing to redeem my words to Ferris, at least in part.

Starting point is 02:39:41 But as I stepped across the trail, I heard the sound of wings, and a shadow glided in front of me toward the forest. It was always so from the first, and now, as always, I turned away, following unquestioningly the spirit bird. The noise of the river ceased as I entered the silent land. For an instant the grey bird hovered high in the sunshine, then left me alone. I threw myself full length upon the blossoming bank and waited, chin on hand, and as I waited she came noiselessly across the moss, so quietly, so silently,

Starting point is 02:40:15 that I saw her only when her fingers touched mine. It has been a long time, we said, and, did you sleep, and when did you awake? Then we asked each other a thousand little questions, which are asked when lovers meet, and we answered as lovers answer. We spoke at the spirit bird, as we always did, wondering, and she told me how that morning it had tapped upon her window as the day broke. Rose did not hear it, she said, but I was already awake and thinking. I woke at sunrise too, I said. For a moment I thought it was a swallow in the chimney that fluttered so. The spirit bird flies swiftly when love is dreaming.

Starting point is 02:40:55 That is a very old proverb of Normandy. What shall we do, Louis? There is so much to do and so little time in life. i brought my lute ah you are laughing the lute is such an old-fashioned toy i didn't know you played will you sing too diane something very old older than the lute i learned a song this morning because i thought you would care for it that is why i dared to bring my lute into the silent land the song is called tristess then the little maid sat up among the blossoms and touched the soft strings singing and my my gaitet I've per-due just to

Starting point is 02:41:39 to the fierrethe who made to croir to my genie when I conned the verity I've crue that it's an amy when I've

Starting point is 02:41:53 understood and senty I'm had already d'gouted and, and, herl is eternal and those who have passed byl here-baugh all have alled alle'n't all he rubek'n't he repa'n't the sole bien that i rest o'-monde and d'av'ar quite pleurie that is all said the little maid sing diane i said but i scarcely heard my own voice she laughed

Starting point is 02:42:31 bent above me with a graceful gesture not that she said for you at least are not sad there is a chanc-onet shall i sing again then be very still here at my feet do you not think my lute is sweet i wouldre for me that it was always fete and turn the head o'pheous orgeyoeu et'n at the same time deglacce of flame the a-hne in the arm the amour in the eyes you diane i whispered but she smiled and the mystery of love veiled her dark eyes and she sang i would not to la contredance without some caret'n'n't live'n my bradneux livery my brow nue then on cotillian, let's my man-blank, tra'n'er

Starting point is 02:43:19 on the manch the m'n'n corse, so suple so just, t'r a brow

Starting point is 02:43:27 robust, was a fear mortel, an bo'-de-d-d d'an't t'en't n'n'n'n'

Starting point is 02:43:35 f'n'nable eyes and touched the lute. When I moved, she started from her reverie, with a gay little nalt to me. when we're coquette it f'et e'l'-o'-de-passage who vol'-a-pull in a plin'-care, "'ne d'-dour'-n'-d'-law'-n'-l'-l'-l'-ch'n'-w'n'-ch'n'-ch'n'-ch'n'-ch'n'-ch'n'-ch'n'-ch'-ch'-ch'-ch'-ch'-ring the strings.

Starting point is 02:44:15 of sweet fern twined with clustered buds, white as snow and faintly perfumed. So I am crowned, she said, a princess in the silent land. Where I step all things green shall flourish. Where I turn my eyes, blossoms shall open in the summer wind. Am I not queen? Would you not sing again, Diane? No. It pleases me to hear a legend now. You may begin, Louis. which the weirwolf or the man in purple tatters or the no no something new the seventh seal begin it and when he opened the seventh seal there was silence in heaven dear saints have we not silence enough in the silent land tell me about battles and the sound of their wings was as the sound of chariots of many horses running to battle i could tell you about battles diane tell me don't know move your arm. Tell me of battles, Louis. There was once a king in Carcoza, I began, but the little maid was already asleep. I thought I heard a step in the undergrowth and listened. The forest was silent. End of Section 12. Read by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands.

Starting point is 02:45:40 Section 13 of the maker of moons and other stories. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands, The Maker of Moons and other stories by Robert W. Chambers, Section 13, The Silent Land. Chapter 5 When we awoke it was night. Down from the dark heavens a great star fell, burning like a lamp. above the low-hanging branches sombre drooping heavy with fragrance a misty darkness lay like a vast veil spread in the stillness i heard her quiet breathing but we did not speak silence is a prophet unveiling mysteries then through the forest we heard the sound of wings and we moved stepping together into the shadows the moon rose above lynx peak gigantic golden splendid as we passed out of the forest we heard the sound of wings and we moved stepping together into the shadows the moon rose above lynx peak gigantic golden splendid as we passed out of the forest into the starlit night.

Starting point is 02:46:53 End of Section 13. Read by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. Section 14 of the Maker of Moons and Other Stories. This is a Librevox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more informational to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org.

Starting point is 02:47:20 Recording by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. The Maker of Moons and Other Stories by Robert W. Chambers. Section 14. The Silent Land. Chapter 6 The skies were leaden. The watery clouds hung low over the valley and a wet winds blew from the west, ruffling the long pool where Diane stood. Kilted and capped in tweeds, creole swinging with every movement of the rod which swayed and bent with her bending wrist. She moved from ripple to shallow, wading noiselessly, while the silken line whistled and the gay flies chased each other across the wind-lashed pool. We spoke in a low voice, glancing at each other when the light cast struck the water. Under the alders, Diane, I said, have you changed the grey dun for the royal?

Starting point is 02:48:14 No, what is your new cast? Emerald and orange miller. I shall tie an alderfly in place at the miller. Do you think the water warrants a cast of thorn? three it is rough i don't know louis was that an offer i think it was the spray from the rapids shall we move up a little do you feel the chill of the water i am cold to my knees said the little maid the river is rising i think ah what was that nothing you touched a floating leaf in the swirl splash a great fish flopped over in the pool a trout lazy unwieldy monstrous oh he missed it cried diane turning a little white cast again i whispered tossing my rod onto the sandy beach and unslinging my landing net trembling a little with excitement she cast across the swirl once twice twenty times but the monster was invisible somewhere in the dusky depths of the amber well the fierce fish lay watching the lightly dropping flies unmoved then we changed the cast i emptied my fly-book but nothing stirred except the hurrying water curling gurgling, tumbling,

Starting point is 02:49:24 tumbling through the rocks. Finally, I broke the silence. Diane, it was the spinner that he rose to. He's after something redder. Have you a scarlet ibis? No, have you? I almost groaned, for Conroy's flies had not arrived

Starting point is 02:49:39 and I hadn't an ibis in the world. After a while, she reeled in her silken line, and we waited to the sandy beach and sat down. Oh, the pity of it! sighed Diane. Never have I seen such a trout before. I suppose it is useless, louis. i sat moodily poking holes in the sand with the butt of my landing-net we spoke of other things for a time sinking our voices below the roar of the river presently a sunbeam stole through the vapour above lighting the depths of the dark pool and all at once we saw the trout hanging just above the pebbly bottom

Starting point is 02:50:13 we saw the scarlet fins move the great square tail waving gently in the current the mottled spotted back the round staring eyes the swelling of the gills were still scarcely perceptible, the broad mouth hardly moved. For a long time we sat silent, fascinated. Then something stirred behind us on the beach, and we slowly turned. It was Solomon. Ciel, faltered Diane. What is that? My bird, an Egyptian ibis, I whispered, laughing silently. He has followed me after all. Solomon ruffled his scarlet plumes, blinked at me, He scratched his head with his broad foot, pecked at a bit of mica, and took two solemn steps nearer. Diane, said I suddenly, I'll get a red fly for you. Don't move. The bird will come close to us. But Solomon was in no hurry. Inch by inch, he sideled nearer, dallying with bits of moss and shining pebbles, often pausing to reflect, but gradually approaching.

Starting point is 02:51:13 For his curiosity concerning Diane was great. He looks as if he stepped off an obelisk, murmured Diane. I have seen hieroglyphics that resembled him. Oh, what a prehistoric head. So old, so old. His name is Solomon, I whispered. Solomon, in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. I'm going to have a small bit of Solomon's glory. Shh! Ah! I've got him. It was over in a second, and I do not believe it was painful. There was a flurry of sand, a furious flapping of flame-colored wings, a squawk, a squawk, A smothered laugh, nothing more. Mortified, furious, Solomon marched off,

Starting point is 02:51:54 shaking the river sand from wing and foot, and Diane and I, with tears of laughter in our eyes, whelmed the scarlet feather about a spare hook, tied it close with a thread from my coat, and whipped it firmly to the shank. I looped the improvised fly to Diane's leader, and she shook the line free. The rills sang a sweet tune as she drew the silk through the guides,

Starting point is 02:52:14 and presently she motioned for me to follow her, out into the rippling shallows, and I went, swinging my landing net to my shoulder. She cast once. The fly struck the swirl and sank a little, but she drew it to the surface and the current swept it under the orders. For a moment it sank again. Then the ripples parted, and a broad crimson-fled side rolled just below the surface of the water. At the same moment, the light rod curved, deeply quivering, the real screaming like the wind and the chimney, and the straining line cut through the water, moving up the pool with lightning speed. Strike! I cried, and she struck heavily, but the reels sang out like a whistling boy,

Starting point is 02:52:56 and the fish tumbled into the churning water under the falls at the head of the pool. Now, said Diane with a strange quiet in her voice, I suppose he is gone, Louis. But the vicious tug and long, fierce strain contradicted her, and I stepped back a pace or two to let her fight the battle to the bitter end. the struggle was splendid once i believe she became a little frightened the rod was staggering under the furious fish and she spoke in a queer small voice are you there louis i'm here diane close behind close behind she said nothing more until the great fish lay floating within reach of my net now she gasped it was done in a second and as i bore the deep-laden net to the beach i caught a fleeting glimpse of a figure among the trees on the bank above diane was kneeling breathlessly on a rock beside me she did not see the figure i did for an instant it was ferris end of section fourteen read by adrian stroet

Starting point is 02:54:03 Turks and Caicos Islands. Section 15 of The Maker of Moons and Other Stories. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. The Maker of Moons and Other Stories. By Robert W. Chambers.

Starting point is 02:54:28 Section 15, The Silent Land. Chapter 7. Dinner was over. Ferris and I lingered silently over the Burgundy, and Hallett hovered in the corner with the decanter of port until Ferris shook his head. It had been a silent dinner. Ferris tried to be cordial and failed. Then he tried to be indifferent with better success. We exchanged a word or two concerning a new keeper who was to be stationed at the notch in the north, and I spoke to Howlett about cleaning the lamps. Neither of us mentioned rods or trout, although Howlett had served us a delicious sea trout, that evening which had fallen to Ferris's rod, over which we ordinarily should have exalted. Ferris, of course, knew that I had seen him among the trees on the bank above the long pool. It was my place to speak. We both understood that, but I did not. What was there to say? Suppose I should go back to the beginning and tell him? Not all, but all that I was bound in order to tell him. What would he think if I spoke at the spirit bird of the silent land of my

Starting point is 02:55:30 long deception? An explanation was due him. I felt that, with a vague sense of anger and humiliation. For weeks I had abandoned him. I had never thought about his being lonely, but I knew now that he felt it deeply. Oh, it was the underhand part of the business that sickened me, the daily deceit, the double dealing. Ferris was no infant. A word would have been enough. I had never, by sign or speech, spoken that word which would at least have set me right with him, and which I could have spoken honourably. And moreover, if I had spoken that word, no, not a word even a look would have been enough, Ferris would never have entered the Western Forest Belt. We sat dawdling over our wine and the glow of the long candles, while the fire crackled in the chimney

Starting point is 02:56:15 place, for the evening was chilly, and Solomon brooded sullenly before the blaze. Hallet, noiseless and pompous, glided from sideboard to table, decorously avoiding the evil jabs from Solomon's curved bill, while Ferris woke up and told him he might retire, which he did with a modest, good night, sir, and a haughty glance at Solomon. A half-hour of strained silence followed. I leaned on the table, my head on my hands, watching the candlelight reflected on the fragile wine-glasses. Myriads of little flames glistened on the crystal bowls, deep stained with the red wines glow.

Starting point is 02:56:51 The fire snapped and sparkled on the hearth, and Solomon slept, his wizened head buried in the depths of his flaming plumage. As we sat there, there came a faint tapping at the curtailed. curtained window. Ferris did not hear it. I did, for it was the spirit bird. I must go, said I, rising suddenly. Where? said Ferris. I looked at him stupidly for a moment, then sank back into my chair. Solomon stirred in his slumber, and I heard the wind rising in the chimney. Ferris leaned across the table and touched my sleeve. I looked at him silently. I must speak, he said. Are you ready? I did not reply.

Starting point is 02:57:32 Sadness and silence have no place here between you and me. Shall I tell you a story I once read? I am half asleep, I muttered. This is the story, he said unheeding my words. There was once a king in Carcosa. My hand fell heavily upon the table, and there was given unto him a mouth speaking great things and blasphemies. For God's sake, Ferris.

Starting point is 02:57:57 Yes, he said, for God's sake. We sat staring at each other across the table, and if my face was as white as his, I did not know, but my hand trembled among the glasses till they tinkled. I was born in France, he said at last. You did not know it, for I never told you. What do you know about me after all? Nothing. What have years of friendship taught you about my past? Nothing. Now learn. My father was shot dead by an inferior officer in Rouen. The assassin escaped to Canada where I found him. He died by his own head. He died by his own head. And, from choice, I did not know he had a child.

Starting point is 02:58:36 The dull fear at my heart must have looked from my eyes. Ferris nodded. Yes, you know the rest, he said. The shame and disgrace of the suicide drove the child away, anywhere to escape it, anywhere. Here into the wilderness the woman fled, where she hath a place prepared of God. The spirit bird was tapping on the window.

Starting point is 02:58:57 I heard the noise of wings beating against the pain. I must go. I said, and my voice sounded within me as from a great distance. Vengeance is gods, said Ferris quietly. I am guilty. I must go, I repeated steadying myself with my hand on the table. The noise of wings filled my ears. I knew the summons. Do not hear, I cried. The wind, said Ferris.

Starting point is 02:59:26 Then the door slowly opened from without. The long candles flared in the wind, and the ashwere. stirred and drifted among the embers on the earth, and out of the night came a slender figure, with dark eyes wide and timid hands outstretched, outstretched until they fell into my own, and lay there. I came from the silent land, she said. The bird led me. See, it has entered with me, Louis. It is my wife who has entered, I said quietly to Ferris, and the little maid clung close to me, holding out one slim hand to Ferris. There was an interval of such, silence.

Starting point is 03:00:02 Father Gregory will breakfast with us tomorrow, said Ferris to me. A priest? Open the window, smiled Ferris. There is a small grey bird here. So I opened the window and it flew away. Good night, whispered the little maid and kissed her hand to the open window. Diane! She came to me quietly.

Starting point is 03:00:26 Ferris had vanished. Solomon peered dreamily at us with filmy eyes. spirit bird has gone," she said. Then with her arms around my neck, I raised her head, touching her white brow with my lips. When my wife read as far as you have read, she picked up the embroidery which she had dropped beside her on the table. Do you like my story? I asked, but she only smiled at me from under her straight eyebrows. The next morning I received her ultimatum. I am to cease writing about beautiful women of doubtful antecedents, who inhabit at Forest Plades. I'm to stop making fun of Howlett. I'm to curb my passion for rod and gun,

Starting point is 03:01:06 and if I insist on writing about my wife, I have to tell the truth concerning her. This I have promised you Sonder to do, and I shall try to, in the black water. End of Section 15. End of the Silent Land. Read by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. Section 16 of The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories This is a Librivox recording All Librivox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit Librevox.org

Starting point is 03:01:50 Recording by Lynn Thompson The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers The Blackwater lorce the cotet's esperance no puss the cusses in passant then attire d'er his lance and so return in or alone who's on call the pall lirondel sui loz-ozyre and more leisure and lirondel than he sui's his desire the blackwater oh could you view the melody of every grace and music of her face you'd drop a tear seeing more harmony in her bright eye then now you hear lovelace chapter one ison swung her racket her laughter was very sweet a robin on the tip of a balsam tree caught his head to listen a shy snow-bird peered at her through the meadow grass what are you laughing at i asked uneasily i spoke sharply i had not intended to the porcupine on the porch lifted his head his rising quills grating on the piazza

Starting point is 03:03:08 a drab-coloured cow knee-deep in the sedge stared at me in stupid disapproval i beg your pardon yzond i said sulkily for i felt the rebuke of the cow then he zond laughed again the robin chirped in sympathy and the snow-bird crept to the edge of the tennis court deuce i said picking up the ball are you ready she stepped back making me a mocking reverence her eyes were bluer than the flowering flax behind her. I had intended to send her a swift service, and I should have done so had I not noticed her eyes. Juice, I repeated, pausing to recover the composure necessary for good tennis. She made a gesture with her racket. The service was a miserable failure. I drove the second ball into the net, and then, placing the butt of my racket on the turf, sat down on the rim. Vantage out, said I, gritting my teeth. What were you laughing at, aunt. Vantage out, she repeated. I am not laughing. You were, I said. You are now. She went to the

Starting point is 03:04:19 boxwood hedge, picked out one ball, and sent it back. Then she drove the other over the net and retired to her corner, swinging her racket. I did not move. You are spoiling your racket, she said. I was sitting on it. I knew better. And your temper, she said sweetly. Vantage out. I repeated, and raised my tennis bat for a smashing service. The ball whisked close to the net, and the white dust flew from her court. But her racket caught it fair and square, and I heard the ring of the strings as the ball shot along my left alley, and dropped exactly on the service line. How I got it, I don't know, but the next moment a puff of dust rose in her vantage court.

Starting point is 03:05:05 There was a rustle of skirts, a twinkle of small tennis shoes, and the ball rocketed higher, higher, into the misty sunshine. Oh, gasped Dysand and bit her lip. The ball began to come down. I had time to laugh before it struck, to laugh quietly and twirl my short moustache. I shall place that ball, said I, where you will not find it easily,

Starting point is 03:05:31 and I did deliberately. For a second Dizond was disappointed. I could see that, but I imagined there was the slightest tremor of relief in her voice. when she said brute force is useless bobby listen to the voice of the prophet s i hear i said the echo of your voice in the throat of every bird which is very pretty but unfair said he zand looking at the snowbirds beside her it is unfair she repeated yes said i it is unfair are you ready let us finish the game this afternoon she suggested look at these snowbirds bobby if i raise my racket it will frighten them. And you imagine, said I, that these snowbirds are going to interrupt the game, this game.

Starting point is 03:06:17 What a pity to frighten them. See, look how close they come to me. Do you think the little things are tamed by hunger? Some creatures are not tamed by anything, I said. Are you hungry? she asked innocently. I was glad that I suppressed my anger. Isand, I said, you know what this game means to me, to us. I know nothing about it, she said hastily, retreating to her corner. Play, it's juice, you know. I know, I replied, and sent a merciless ball shooting across her juice court. Vantage in, I observed, trying not to smile.

Starting point is 03:06:57 A swift glance from her wide eyes, a perceptible tremble of the long lashes. That was all. But I knew what I knew, for I have hunted wild creatures. The porcupine on the piazza, rose sniffed, blinked in the sunlight, and lumbered down the steps, every quill erect. "'Billy, go back this minute,' said he zand. The quills on Billy's back flattened. "'Billy,' I repeated, go and climb a tree.

Starting point is 03:07:25 "'If you speak to him, he will bristle again,' said hezond, walking over to the porcupine. "'Billy, my child, climb this pretty balsam tree for the gentleman. Come, you are interrupting the game, and the gentleman is impatient.' The gentleman is very impatient, Billy, I said. I saw his on colour, a soft, faint tint, nothing more. I saw Billy receive a gentle impulse, oh, very gentle indeed, from the point of her slender tennis shoes. So the porcupine was huddled up the balsam tree,

Starting point is 03:07:58 where he lay like an old mat, untidy, mortified, nursing his wrath, while two bluebirds tittered among the branches above him. Isand came back and stood in the game court. It is vantage, I believe, she said indifferently. Out, said I, with significance. Izand looked at me. Out, I repeated. Play, she said desperately.

Starting point is 03:08:24 No, I replied, sitting down upon the edge of my racket again. I knew better. Let us clearly understand the consequences first. She swung her racket and looked me full in the eyes. What consequences? she said. The consequences incident upon my winning this set. What consequences? she insisted defiantly. The forfeit, said I. When you win the set, we will discuss that, she said. Do you imagine you will win? She was a better player than I. She could give me thirty on each game. Yes, I said, and I believe the misery in my voice would have moved a tigress to pity.

Starting point is 03:09:05 Now perhaps it was because there is nothing of the tigress. about Izon, perhaps because I showed my fear of her, I don't know which, but I saw her scarlet lips press one upon the other, and I saw her eyes darken like violet velvet at night. Play, she said, I'm ready. The first ball struck the net. The racket turned in my nerveless hand, and she smiled. Play, I cried, and the second ball bit the lime dust at her feet. I saw the flash of her racket. I saw a streak. of gray lightning, and I lifted my racket, but something struck me in the face. The tennis balls were heavy and wet, and I staggered about blindly, faint with pain. Oh, Bobby, cried his

Starting point is 03:09:50 and stood quite still. I'm a duffer, I muttered, trying to open my eye, but the pain sickened me. I placed my hand over it and looked out upon the world with one eye. The drab-coloured cow was watching me. She was chewing her cud. The poor, The porcupine had one Sardonicai fixed upon me. The robin, balanced on the tip of the balsam, mocked me. It was plain that the creatures were all on her side. The wild snowbirds scarcely moved as Isand hastened across the court to my side. I heard the bluebirds tittering overhead, but I did not care.

Starting point is 03:10:29 I had heard the tones of Isan's voice, and I was glad that I had been banged in the eye. It was true she had only said, Oh, Bobby, is it very painful? She asked, standing close beside me. Yes, I replied seriously. Let me look, she said, laying one hand on the sleeve of my cricket shirt. Billy will rejoice at this, said I, removing my handkerchief so she could see the eyes. The pain was becoming intense.

Starting point is 03:10:59 With my uninjured eye, I could see how white her hand was. She stood still a moment. my arm grew warm beneath her hand. It will cheer Billy, I suggested. Did I tell you that he bit me yesterday and I whacked him? No, well, he did, and I did. How can you, she murmured. How can you speak of that ridiculous Billy when you may have—

Starting point is 03:11:23 Have to be blind! Nonsense, I said, with a shiver. She crossed the turf to the spring and brought her handkerchief back soaking and cold as ice. I felt her palm on my cheek as she adjusted it. It was smooth like an apricot. Hold it there, I said, bribing my conscience. It is very pleasant. She thought I meant the wet handkerchief.

Starting point is 03:11:47 If, if I have ruined your sight, she began. Now it was on the tip of my tongue to add, and yet you are going to ruin my life by beating me at tennis. But my conscience revolted. Do you think it is serious, she asked, in a voice so low that I bent my head involuntarily. She mistook the gesture for one of silent acquiescence. A tear, a large, warm one, fell on my wrist.

Starting point is 03:12:14 I thought it was a drop of water from the handkerchief at first. Then I opened my uninjured eye and saw her mistake. You misunderstood, I said wearily. I don't believe what the oculus told me. The eye will be all right. But he warned you that a sudden blow would, "'Might!' "'Oh, did he say might?'

Starting point is 03:12:35 "'Yes, but it won't. "'I'm all right. Don't take away your hand.' "'Are you tired?' "'No, no,' she said. "'Shall I get some fresh water?' "'Not yet. Don't go.' "'The game was at Juse, wasn't it?' "'Izand was silent.

Starting point is 03:12:51 "'Was it Jusse? Does that point count against me?' I insisted. "'How can you think of the game now?' said Izand in a queer voice, "'like the note of a very young bird.' i sat down on the turf and the handkerchief fell from my eye hezoned to the spring and returned carrying the heavy stone jar full of water it must have strained her delicate wrist she said it did not and kneeling beside me she placed the cold bit of cambric over my eye thank you i said will you sit beside me on the turf both of my eyes were aching and closed but i heard her skirts rustle and felt the momentary pressure of her palm on my cheek. Are you seated? I asked.

Starting point is 03:13:36 Yes, Bobby. Then tell me whether I lost that point. How can I tell? She answered. I would willingly concede it if it were not. For the forfeit, I added. Then you think I did lose the point. Does your eye pain you much?

Starting point is 03:13:51 She asked. Yes, said I, truthfully. Perhaps it was ungenerous, but I dared not reject such an ally as truth. I opened one eye and looked at his arm. she was examining a buttercup all buttercups look as though they had been carefully varnished said she touching one with the tip of her middle finger did i win the set i began again oh no not the set she protested then i lost that point oh why will you dwell upon tennis at such a moment because said i it means so much to me i suppose there was something in my voice that frightened her forgive me i said bitterly ashamed for i had broken our compact not directly but in substance forgive me zand i said looking at the porcupine with my left eye

Starting point is 03:14:45 ridiculous billy for that was his name stared at me with the insolence born of safety and his white whiskers twitched in derision you walt devil i thought remembering the scar on my ankle where did he bite you asked his aunt unconsciously reading my thoughts it was a trick of hers in the ankle it was nothing i would rather have him bite the other ankle than get any more of his quills into me i replied see how the snow-birds have followed you they are there among the wild strawberries she turned her head hush she whispered raising one palm it was pinker than the unripe berries there was an ache in my heart as well as in my eyes so I said something silly. There was an old man who said, hush. I perceive a young bird in this bush. When they said, is it small? He replied, not at all.

Starting point is 03:15:40 It is four times as big as the bush, repeated his own solemnly. We both laughed, but I read a gratitude in her eyes which annoyed me. We digress, I said. Speaking of the game. Oh, but we were not speaking of the game, she said, half alarmed, half smiling.

Starting point is 03:15:58 There, I thought you were going to be going to be sensible, Bobby. I am. I only wish to know whether I lost that game. You know the rules, she said. Yes, I know the rules. If it were not for the forfeit, I should not insist, she continued, returning to her buttercup. It seems unfair to take the point. Does the eye pain, Bobby? Not so much, I replied, sticking to the truth to the bitter end. My ally was becoming a nuisance. Let me see it, she said. removing the handkerchief. The eye must have looked bad, for her face changed. Oh, you poor fellow, she said, and I fairly revelled in the delight of my own misery.

Starting point is 03:16:41 Then I lost that point, said I, stifling conscience. She replaced the handkerchief. Her hand had become suddenly steady. No, she said, you did not lose the point. I concede it. I wondered whether my ears were tricking me. Then, if I were, I would. I I won the point. I won the set, I said. Yes. And the forfeit? The forfeit was that I should kiss you, said Dizand gravely. That was not all. No, you are to be allowed to tell me that you love me, continued Dizand in calm, even tones. Then, said I, flushing uncomfortably, when will you pay the forfeit? Now, if you wish it, shall I kiss you? She leaned on the tone. She leaned on the turf one hand hidden by the buttercups. She had dropped the handkerchief, and I picked it up and

Starting point is 03:17:34 held it to my eye with my left hand. Then, with my right hand, I took her right hand, listlessly drooping beside her, and I looked her full in the eyes. When we made the wager, I said, we were boy and girl. That was almost twenty-four hours ago. You need not kiss me, Izahn. A kiss means more at our age, she said. We were very sorry. We were very silly, said I. It should mean love, she said faintly. Indeed it should, I said. Hison sat straight up among the field flowers. I do not love, she said. I know it, I replied gaily, and I let the bandage drop from my eye. The pain is all gone, I said, closing my left eye to see whether my vision was impaired. I was totally blind in my right eye. For an instant the

Starting point is 03:18:27 Shock staggered me. I don't know how long I sat, mouth open, staring at the sun, with one sound, one sightless eye. His on her chin on her hands lay with her face turned toward the white lady, a towering peak in the east. Come, I said rising. Your aunt will be impatient. Dinner has been served this half hour. She sprang to her feet. She had been in a reverie, and gave me a long look which I could not define. and your eye doesn't pain she asked after a moment no i said for the pain had disappeared with the sight i am all right except a headache and you can see perfectly well perfectly it was at this point that truth and i parted for what was a lost eye that it should cause her a moment's regret end of section sixteen section seventeen of the maker of moons and other short stories this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org recording by lynn thompson

Starting point is 03:19:47 the maker of moons and other short stories by robert w chambers the black water chapter two it was about this time that the oculist came to holderness and visited me at the Rosebud Inn. I was in a dark room. I An thought it better, believing darkness a cure for headache. When the oculus walked in, his name was keen, he said, What the devil are you doing here?

Starting point is 03:20:15 I am blind in one eye. Will it be noticeable? I asked. Banged in the eye, he inquired, opening the shutters. Banged in the eye, I repeated, as he bent over me. His examination lasted scarcely ten seconds.

Starting point is 03:20:30 after a moment he rose and closed the shutters and i stood up in the darkness will it disfigure me i asked again no an oculus could tell the difference perhaps you may go out in three weeks blind nonsense growled kean you have another eye yet but i am an artist i said in a low voice is there hope i heard kean sit down in the room and his rocking-chair squeaked through five minutes of the bitterest darkness i ever knew i could stand it no longer so i rose and felt my way towards the rocking-chair i wanted to touch him i was terrified well it only lasted a few moments most men passed through crises. I was glad he did not attempt to pity me. It was Miss, he began. Hush, I whispered. Who told you, Keen? She did, he replied. Of course, she need never know you are. Blind, I said. No, she need not know it. I heard him feeling for the door. Turn your back, he said. I did so. Three weeks, I inquired over my shoulder. Yes, don't smoke. what the devil shall i do i said savagely think on your sins old chap we had studied together in the latin quarter think of pepita i won't i cried

Starting point is 03:21:58 keen hummed in a mischievous voice con le somers surmeys surtae about to to-doe oh pepita charmante fee mon amour at what pence you keen i said i'll break your head if i am one-eyed i'm a married man he replied and i refuse your offer that's better i like to hear the old ring of your voice bobby keep a stiff upper lip surgery and painting are not the only things we learned in the quarter i heard the door close behind him then turned and groped my way toward the bed how i ever lived through those three weeks well i did and i did and i had my own my way toward the bed how i ever lived through those three weeks well i did and i did and every fresh pipe of bird's eye tasted sweeter for my disobedience. Write him, I dictated through the closed door to Isand. Write him that I am smoking six pipes a day as he directed. After all, if I was going to be blind in one eye, I did not care whether tobacco hastened the blow,

Starting point is 03:23:00 and I was glad to poke a little fun at Keen. Izond could not imagine why the doctor had recommended smoking. She had heard that it weakened the sight, but she wrote as I directed, merely expressing her distrust in Keene, which amused me, for he is now one of the most famous oculists in the world. Yes, said I, through the keyhole, Keene is young, and has much to learn, but I dare not disobey orders. How is your aunt?

Starting point is 03:23:29 My aunt is well, thank you, Bobby. Did you like the Sherbert she made? Yes, that's six times you have asked me. I was wearying of lying. the sherbet reposed among the soap-suds of my toilet-jar. Izzan's aunt, a tall aristocratic beauty, whose perfectly arched eyebrows betrayed the complacent vacancy of her mind, had actually prepared with her own fair hands a sherbet for me.

Starting point is 03:23:55 I cannot bear sweets of any kind. Aunt Linda will make another tomorrow, cooed Isand through the keyhole. Thank her for me, said I faintly. Isand, I am coming out tonight. It is not. yet three weeks cried his aunt it will be three weeks to-morrow at one p m my eyes won't suffer at night i should like to smell the woods a little will you walk with me this evening if aunt linda will allow me said hisand after a moment she added i will ask her now and i heard her rise from her chair outside my door when she came back i was lying face downwards on my bed miserable dreading the hour when i should first face my own reflection in a mirror

Starting point is 03:24:38 i heard her step on the stairs and i jumped up and groped my way toward the door bobby she called softly is on i answered with my mouth close to the keyhole she started i heard her for she did not know i was so near i bent my head to listen aunt linda says you are foolish to go out before to-morrow the evening won't hurt me but suppose only suppose your disobedience should cost you the sight of your eye It won't, said I. Think how I should feel. It won't, I repeated. The perspiration's suddenly dampened my forehead, and I wiped it away. Can't you wait, she pleaded. No, have you your aunt's permission to walk with me this evening?

Starting point is 03:25:26 Yes, she said. Shall I read to you a little while? For an hour I listened to her voice, and if it was loveless or Herrick or Isaac Wharton, I do not know upon my same. soul, but I do know that my dark room was filled with a delicious murmur, and I heard the trees moving in the evening wind, and the twitter of sleepy birds from the hedge. It might have been the perfume from the roses under my window. Perhaps it was the fragrance of her hair. She bent

Starting point is 03:25:55 so close to my door outside. But a sweet smell tinctured the darkness about me, stealing into my senses, and I rose and opened the blinds a little way. It was night. i heard the rocky river rushing through the alders and the pines swaying on the ridge the ray from the moon which silvered the windows caused my eyes no pain i listened through the low music of her voice crept the song of a night thrush a breeze stirred the roses under my window the music of voice and thrush was stilled then in the silence some wild creature cried out from the mountain-side am d'nay i muttered for my soul was heavy with the dread of the coming morning what are you murmuring in there by yourself whispered his arm through the door nothing was it a lynx on noon-peak i heard nothing she said nor i said i opening the door the light from the lamp dazzled but did not hurt me she laid down the book and came swiftly toward me now said i we will walk under the stars with your aunt's permission. I heard her sigh as she took my arm. Bobby, I am so glad your eye is well. What could you have done if you had lost the sight of an eye?

Starting point is 03:27:17 End of Section 17. Section 18 of the Maker of Moons and other short stories. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.orgs. Org recording by Lynn Thompson, The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers The Black Water, Chapter 3 The morning was magnificent, a gentleman with symmetrical whiskers named Blylock, and I, was standing on the veranda of the Rosebud Inn. Blylock's mind was neutral, his lineage was long, his voice modulated, his every action

Starting point is 03:28:07 acutely impersonal. The subdued polish of Harvard was reflected from his shoes to his collar. When he smoked, he smoked judiciously, joylessly. And you lost the fish, said I. Yes, says Blylock with colourless enthusiasm. In the West Branch? Near the forks, said Blylock, do you know the pool? I regretted that I did not. He had once asked me whether I knew the string beans of Beacon Street, and I had replied with the same regret. Now he learned that I was culpably ignorant of the pool at the West Branch Forks. Blilock looked at the mountains.

Starting point is 03:28:48 The White Lady was capped with mist, but except for that there was not a cloud in the sky. The gilded dome towered, clear-cut as a cameo, against the pure azure of the northern horizon. Link's peak, jagged and cold, shot up above the pines of Crested Hawk, whose sweeping base was washed by the icy river do you think he might weigh five pounds i asked possibly replied blilock i regret exceedingly that i lost him but thank god plymouth rock still stands was what i felt he expected me to say i did not i merely asked him if he had ever experienced emotion why of course he answered seriously but when i begged him to tell me when he suspected a joke and said it smiled. If I had a son who smiled like that, I would send him to Tony Pastors. Oh, that smile,

Starting point is 03:29:44 gentle, vacant, blank as the verses of a brook farm bard, bleaker than bunker hill. For sweet charity's sake, said I, tell me why you do it, Blilock. Do what? he asked. Oh, said I, wearily, nothing. Lose a five-pound trout, for instance. I had on a brown hatel, said Blilock. It was defective. It bust, said I, brutally. Did you curse? No, replied Blilock. Izond came out, and we took off our shooting caps. Put them on again directly, said Isand, nestling deep into the collar of her jacket. Is it too cold for the trout to rise, Mr. Blilock? Blilock looked at the sky, and then at his fingertips. There was a seal ring on one of his fingers, which I was tired of seeing.

Starting point is 03:30:36 I listened to his even voice. I noted his graceful carriage. I even noticed the momentary flush on his cold cheeks. Oh, how tired I was of looking at him. It wearied me as it wearies me to read advertisements in the cars of the elevated railroad. But I liked him. Blilock, said I,

Starting point is 03:30:56 get a gate on you, and we'll whip the stream to the intervale before dinner. The water will be cold, said his aunt. You ought to have waders. Now, Asand knew that I had no waders. I loathe them. Blylock always wore waders. Thank you, said Blylock.

Starting point is 03:31:14 I will not neglect to wear them. I looked at Isand and met her eyes. Oh, said I, spoiling everything with intentional obstinacy, Mr. Blylock never forgets his waders. For a moment the colour touched her cheek, but she treated me much better than I deserved. Bobby, said Isand, remember that you have been ill and if you wade the river in knickerbockers you will be obliged to eat sherbet again so she knew the mystery of the soap sands i have no wade as isand i said humbly do you think i had better not go

Starting point is 03:31:49 you know best she said indifferently and i got my desserts to the placid satisfaction of blilock isand walked away to join her aunt and i loafed about sniffing the breeze sulky undecided until blilock appeared with rod and creel going inquired blilke lock no i shall paint i said after a moment's silence he joined isond and her aunt and i saw them all walking toward the trail that crosses the river by the white cascade blilock had undertaken to teach ison to cast i was surprised when she accepted for i myself had taught her to cast however i never asked any explanation and she never offered any to my secret annoyance It was just two weeks that I had been out of the dark room. I was totally blind in my right eye, but nobody except Keane and myself knew it. I was becoming used to it. I was only too thankful that the eye, to all appearances,

Starting point is 03:32:48 was as perfect as the other eye. But I dreamed to begin painting again. I feared that everything might be colourless and globsided, that I should be a ruined man as far as my profession was concerned. I had put off the beginning of work from Jean. sheer cowardice. Nobody but an artist can appreciate my mental suffering. Nobody but an artist knows that two eyes are little enough to see with. Had the accident destroyed the balance of my sight? Would my drawing be exaggerated, unstable, badly constructed, out of proportion? Would my

Starting point is 03:33:22 colour be weak or brutally crude? I decided to find out without further delay. So when mizond and her aunt and blilock had disappeared i went to my room gathered up my well-worn sketching kit screwed two canvases into the holder and marched manfully out the door into the sunlit forest ridiculous billy followed me this capricious porcupine had taken a violent fancy to me from the moment i emerged from the dark room of course i preferred his friendship to his enmity i still bore a red scar on my ankle but what soothed me most was his undisguised hatred of Blylock. Billy bit him whenever he could, and the blood of Bunker Hill appealed to heaven from the piazza of the Rosebud Inn. Blilock took it very decently. The porcupine was Izon's property, but although he himself suffered in silence, and Izon darned his golf stockings as partial reparation, I always fancied that his blood was impotuning heaven, and, remembering George III, I trembled for ridiculous.

Starting point is 03:34:28 Billy. Sometimes I was sorry for Blylock. Sometimes I was not, especially when his aunt darned his golf socks. Blylock was Linda Sutherland's cousin, but I demonstrated to his aunt that this did not concern her. Sometimes I wished that Blylock would go back to Beacon Street, and yet I had grown fond of him in a way. The porcupine followed me into the forest, poking his rat-like muzzle into every soft rotten stump, twitching his walt. white whiskers. A red squirrel followed him from tree to tree, chattering and squealing with rage. But Billy lumbered along, stolid, blaze, entirely wrapped up in his own business. What that business was, I dared not inquire, for Billy's malicious eyes boded evil for interlopers,

Starting point is 03:35:18 and I respected his privacy. Walking along the fragrant brown trail, barred with sunlight, I recalled that cold gray morning in camp when Sutherland, Linda's late lamenting, mrs. Waking from the troubled dreams incident on an overdose of hot whiskey and water, called to me to take that thing away. That thing was Billy. From his nest among the pine-clad ridges he had smelled our pork, and being a freeborn American, he had descended to appropriate it. In the grey of the morning, through the smouldering campfire smoke, I saw Billy in the act of removing the pork from the crutches of a spruce tree. What is it? Take it away for God.

Starting point is 03:35:58 God's sake, below Sutherland, associating Billy with other grotesque phantoms incident on overdoses. "'It's a porcupine,' said I. "'Pink,' faltered Sutherland. "'Go to sleep, you brute,' I muttered. "'Not addressing the porcupine.' I took a poncho, a thick one, and ran the porcupine down. Then I enveloped him in the blanket, and got a rope about his neck, tied him to a tree, and examined my wounds.

Starting point is 03:36:26 one of our guide helped me pull the spines from my person, and that night the other guide led ridiculous Billy into the settlement, which consists of the Rosebad Inn and three barns. The taking of Billy preceded Sutherland's death by 24 hours. He was mauled by a panthera whose cubs he was investigating. His wife, Linda, who had secured a few months reprieve from his presence, and who first heard of his death at Fortress Monroe, came north with him. with izand sutherland was buried in new york and two weeks later linda and isand came to the rosebud inn all this happened three years ago and during those three years billy gorgeous with a silver collar had never forgiven me for removing him from his native wilds his attitude toward the household was unmistakable linda he avoided isand he followed with every mark of approbation blilock he loathed and now he had taken this sudden shine to me. Billy and I followed the trail solemnly, deliberately. The trail was a blind one, now plain, brown and gold, with trampled wet leaves, now invisible, a labyrinth of twisted moose-brush and hemlock badly blazed. But we knew our business, Billy and

Starting point is 03:37:46 I, for presently we crossed a swift brook, darkling among mossy hollows, and turning to the right, entered a moist glade or splashed with dewy sunlight. Here, said I, unstrapping my camp-stall, is a woodland mecca, and I drove my white umbrella deep into the bank, where the brook-wide, in sunny shallows. Billy eyed me a moment, rolled a pine cone over with his nose, and mounted a tree. I liked to watch him mount trees.

Starting point is 03:38:15 He did not climb. He neither scrambled nor scratched. He simply flowed up the trunk. Pleasant dreams, said I. as he curled up in the first moss-coloured quotch, and I began to set my palate. In the fragrant sun-soaked glade, the long grass, already crisp as hay,

Starting point is 03:38:33 was vibrating with the hum of insects. Shy forest butterflies waved their soft wings over the linnea. Long-legged gnats, with spotted wings, danced across the fern patches, and I saw a great sleepy moth hanging from the chestnut-twig among the green branches overhead. His powdery wings, soft as felt, glistened like gilded dust an imperial moth said i to myself for i was glad to recognize a friend then a wood-thrush ruffled his feathers under the spreading ferns and i saw a baby rabbit sit up and wriggle its nose at me

Starting point is 03:39:09 lucky for you i'm not a fox said i picking up a pointed sable brush and i drew the outline of the tressnut tree emitting the porcupine in the branches when i had indicated a bit of the forest beyond the glaze using a pointed brush dipped in garons rosfonse I touched in a mousy shadow or two scrubbed deep-warm tones among my trees using my rag when I pleased and then digging up a brushful of sunny greens and yellows slapped it boldly on the foreground over this I drew a wavering sky reflection indicated a sparkle among the dewy greens scrubbed more sunlight into the shallow depths of the brook and lean back with a nervous sigh What had God taken from me when he took the light from my eye? I pondered in silence, while round me the brown-winged forest flies buzzed and hummed and droned an endless symphony. To me, with my single trembling eye, my painted foreground seemed aglow with sunlight, and the depths of the quiet forest, wrapped in hazy mystery, appeared true and just, slumbering there upon my canvas. brook prattle to me of dreams and splendid hopes the pines whispered of fame the ferns rustled and nodded consolation i raised my head high in the circle of quivering blue above a gray hawk hung turning turning turning in silence a light step sounded among the fallen leaves slowly i turned my sight dazzled by the sky but before my eye had found its focus i heard her low laughter and felt her touch of her

Starting point is 03:40:52 on my arm. You were asleep, she said. You must not deny it. Do you hear me? I was not asleep, I answered, rising from my camp-store. Then you are blind. Why, I have been standing there for two minutes. Two minutes?

Starting point is 03:41:09 Then I believe I must be blind, said I, turning so that I could see her better. She stood on my right. I expected to be challenged, said she. I did not hear your key vive. Then she sat down on my camp-stool and gazed at my canvas with amazement. I watched her in silence, proud of my work, happy that she should recognize it, for she knew good work every time.

Starting point is 03:41:34 After a while I began to chafe at her silence, and I bent my head to see her face. I shall never forget the pain's surprise in her eyes, nor the quiver of her voice, as she said. "'Bobby, this is childish. What on earth do you mean by such way?' work. The blow had fallen. At first I was stunned. Then terror seized me, and I grasped a low, swinging branch to steady myself, for I felt as though I were falling. Bobby, she cried, You are white, are you ill? No, said I. That sketch was only a joke to tease you. It is a very stupid joke, she said coldly. I cannot understand how an artist could bring himself to do such a thing. It was a poor joke, said I, read as fire. Pardon me, I don't know what possessed me

Starting point is 03:42:26 to paint like that. She picked up my paint-rack and swept it across the face of my canvas, then, turning to me, now you are forgiven. Come and talk to me, Bobby. The sun climbed to the zenith, and we still sat there, she with her round white chin on her wrist, eye at her feet. Billy, who had descended from his perch in the chestnut. tree as soon as he heard his aunt's voice rambled about us snuffling and snooping into every tuft of fern one evil eye fixed on us one on the red squirrel who chattered and twitched his brush and rushed up and down a big oak tree in the delirium of temper no replied hisons to my question mr blilock did not fish he talked to linda most of the time i came here because i had an intuition that you were going to paint but said i how did you know i was coming here i never before painted in this glade i don't know how i knew it said de zond slowly witchcraft i asked possibly she said with an almost imperceptible frown i have noticed already i said that you have a mysterious faculty for reading my thoughts and divining my intentions are you aware of it no she said shortly but you have i persisted you flatter you have i persisted you flatter your

Starting point is 03:43:48 yourself bobby i am not thinking of you every minute suppose said i after a moment's silence that you loved me i shall not suppose so she answered haughtily let us suppose then said i that i love you really bobby you are more than tiresome i thought for a while in silence the wood-thrush who had come quite close to isand all while creatures loved her began to sing the baby rabbit set up to listen and wriggle its nose and the speckled gnats danced giddily suppose said i with something in my voice that silenced her suppose that you loved me and that i had lost my eye would you still love me yes said hisond with an effort and suppose i continued i had been born with an eye blind could you have loved such a man i do not think i could she answered truthfully probably not i repeat eating the stem of a wild strawberry after a moment i looked up into the sky the hawk was not there but i was not looking for the hawk come said i rising dinner must be ready and your aunt should not be kept waiting i gathered up my sketching kit tenderly perhaps for i should never use it again and whistled billy to heal which he did when he chose perhaps it was something in my face i don't know but hison suddenly came up to me and took both my hands are you going to be sensible bobby she asked her face was very serious yesesond i said but she did not seem satisfied there came a faint glow on her face it may have been a sunbeam and she dropped my hands and whistle to billy come she cried with a tinge of anger in her voice that i had never before heard heal billy but as billy lingered sniffing and rooting among the ferns she picked up a twig and struck billy on the nose

Starting point is 03:45:51 the blow was gentle it would not have hurt a mosquito but i was astounded for it was the first time i had ever seen her lift her hand in anger to any living creature perplexed and wondering i followed her through the forest my locked colour-box creaking on my shoulder End of Section 18. Section 19 of The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org. Recording by Lynn Thompson. The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories by Robert W. Chambers.

Starting point is 03:46:42 Blackwater Chapter 4 to him that hath shall be given and from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath said i knocking my pipe against the veranda railing scripture said blilock approvingly for this is the law and the prophets i continued grateful that the bible had received boston's approval scripture repeated blilock with the smile of a publisher mentioning the word of a very young author. Exactly, I replied. Also, the Quran. I forget whether Tupper mentions it.

Starting point is 03:47:23 Probably, said Bliloch, seriously. Probably, I repeated, inserting a straw in the stem of my pipe. Isand frowned at me. Blilock, I continued, smiling at nothing. Have you read Emerson? Heavens, murmured Blilock under his breath. I had aroused him. I made it a point.

Starting point is 03:47:45 to stir him up, once every day, satisfied to allow him to relapse into his normal beacon-street trance afterward. Your scripted quotation, said Izon, with a dangerous light in her eyes, would indicate that you have suffered a loss. From him that hath not shall be taken away, even that which he have, I repeated. Yes, have nothing, I have lost all I have. Which, I continued, is of course nothing, but I am. encroaching on Brook Farm and the Quran. And on the patience of your friends, said his And don't try to be epigrammatic, Bobby. There was a glass of water standing on the table to my right. I did not see it, my right eye being sightless, and I knocked it over. I was

Starting point is 03:48:33 confused and startled at this. It brought back to me my misfortune so cruelly that I apologize more than was necessary, and received a puzzled stare from his end. I noted it, and chaked helplessly. Linda Sutherland came out on the porch, and I rose and brought her a chair. The moonlight reminds me of Venice, said Linda, turning her lovely face to the moon. We all agreed with her, although we knew it was nonsense, for we all had lived in Venice. If she had said it reminded her of peach ice cream, we would have agreed. She was too beautiful. She was too beautiful. for one to analyze what she said she was too beautiful to analyze it herself i remembered with a shock that the late lamented had once referred to his wife being damned ornamental and i was glad the panther had clawed his besotted soul from his body but sutherland had never said a truer thing in his life drunken that he was he always spoke the truth linda cooed his aunt do you think that we might camp for a few days with bobby and mr blilock

Starting point is 03:49:40 They are going to the black water tomorrow, and Mr. Blylock asked us. We take two guides, added Blylock vaguely. We will stay only three days, said I. We will have a trout supper, suggested Blylock, and flapjacks for breakfast, said I. I should so like to go, pleaded his aunt. Blylock examined the moon, and I saw Linda look at him. Is there any danger, she asked.

Starting point is 03:50:06 I was discreetly silent. The question was not addressed to me. me i think not said blilock turning around i carry a rifle three cheers for bunker hill i said there is nothing to shoot except panthers de blilock dryly at this tactless remark i expected to hear linda refused to go she did not although she looked at blilock a little reproachfully he serenely unconscious examined his seal ring in silence possibly linda did not believe that panthers ranged so much near the inn. Perhaps she was not ungrateful to the last one, that had patted her late, lamented into a better land. There are, said I, truthfully, a few panthers ranging between the gilded dome and crested hawk. Sometimes they get as far as noon peak and the White Lady, sometimes even as far as Lynx Peak, but I never heard of anything bigger than a lynx being

Starting point is 03:51:03 seen near the black water. I have been in these forests every summer and autumn for twenty years, said Blylock, and I never saw either Panther or Lynx. Have you? He ended, turning toward me. Then, recollecting that I had witnessed the mawling of the late lamented, he turned rosy, and I was pleased to see that he was capable of experiencing two whole emotions in one evening. I did not answer. It was not necessary, of course.

Starting point is 03:51:32 I could show him the Panther skin in my studio some day, when I wanted to take a rise out of him. It measured nine feet from tip. to tip it might have measured more had the panther had time to nourish himself with sutherland now his aunt must have read what was passing in my mind for she looked shocked and nestled closer to linda what is a lynx demanded linda shivering there are two species found here replied blilock glad to change the subject one the big gray canada lynx the other the short-tailed american links otherwise bobcat lucivey and wildcat i interpose they make a whole horrid noise in the woods and are harmless if you let them alone added blilock conscientious to the end which we will said his aunt gaily we are going are we not linda no said linda firmly but the next morning when the first sunbeams scattered the mist which clung to copse and meadow and sent it rolling up the flanks of the gilded dome linda said yes and possibly her pretty mountain costume tipped the balance in hison's favour for linda looked like a fan de ceitla diana in that frock and she knew it bless her fair face the guides jimmy ellis and buck hanson were tightening straps and rolling blankets on the lawn outside buck said i how many pounds do you take in fifty sir drawled buck wiping the sweat from his face with the back of his hand and you jimmy i asked about forty sir replied ellis seriously

Starting point is 03:53:09 "'I, cullote,' added Buck. "'The ladies will want extra blankets.' "'They will,' I replied. "'The wind is hauling around to the north-west.' "'Then I took a step nearer and dropped my voice. "'Any panthers seen lately, Jimmy?' "'I ain't seed none,' replied Ellis. "'What was it killed the white heifer two weeks ago?'

Starting point is 03:53:30 "'Well,' replied Jimmy, reflecting a little. "'I, culloet, twere a cat!' "'It might be a bur!' said Buck. I'd seen one down to Drake's clearing last week come Sabbath. Sure, drawled Ellis, returning to his blankets. I understand, said I, that Ezra Field found a thirty-pound trap missing last week. What? asked Hanson. Back of the gum camp on Swift River, I replied.

Starting point is 03:54:02 Ellis looked cynical, and Hanson laughed, the silent, confiding laughter of the honest. "'Ezhri was scared after death by a bobcat into swift river forks,' said Ellis. "'He sees things where there ain't nothing.' "'Do you think,' said I, after a long pull at my pipe, "'that panthers ever attack, I mean when you let their cubs alone?' "'I ain't never seen no panther, replied Buck. "'You saw Mr. Sutherland when he was brought in three years ago?' "'Yes, sir. You and Cy Holman toted him in.'

Starting point is 03:54:33 "'You saw the panther we brought in also, didn't you?' yes sir but that was a dead panther replied buck prosaically i laughed and walked toward the piazza all i want to know is whether you fellows have heard that these creatures are bothering honest people who mind their business i said over my shoulder and both the big guides laughed and answered no fear of that sir half an hour later we were on the trail to the black water the morning was perfect the air keen as september breezes on the morning was perfect the air keen as september breezes on the morning and the mottled sunlight spotted our broad trail which twisted and curbed through the tangled underbrush along the bank of a mountain stream bliloch and izond were well ahead the latter swinging a light steel-shod mountain-stick next came linda beautiful and serene approving the beauty of the forest in pleased little platitudes i follow close behind silent spellbound by the splendour of the forest charmed by the soft notes of the forest charmed by the soft notes of the of the nesting thrushes and the softer babble of Linda and the brook. Broad-dewy leaves slapped our faces, filmy floating spider's meshes, crossed our chins and cheeks,

Starting point is 03:55:49 and tickled his own's pretty nose. You may walk ahead, she said to Blylock, and break the spider's webs for me. With pleasure, said Blylock seriously, and I saw him take the lead, his single eyeglass gleaming in the sunshine. "'It is written,' said I, flippantly, "'that the first shall be last, and the last shall be first.

Starting point is 03:56:11 "'I believe that I should take the lead.' "'Please do,' said Izond, coolly. "'It is your proper place.' "'Now, Azand had never before said anything to me quite as sharp as that, "'although doubtless I had often invited it.' "'Do you want me to go?' I asked in Aenly. "'If you care to clear the path, I would not object,' said Isand. "'For you and Linda,' said I, feeling that I was speaking regardless of either sound or sense.

Starting point is 03:56:40 "'And for Mr. Blylock,' added Izond quietly. "'With pleasure,' said I, vaguely wishing my tongue might stop wagging, before I said something hopelessly foolish. "'I shall clear the way for you,' and Mr. Blylock.' I had said it. Even Linda raised her lovely eyes to me in disapproval. As for Isond, her face swore that pain to her. expression that I dreaded to see. I had never seen it before but once, in the glade,

Starting point is 03:57:09 and I felt that my proper place was among the wits of a country store. A boer in the kitchen of the Rosebuddin would have had more instinctive tact, unless he was jealous. That is the word. I was jealous, vulgarly jealous of Blylock. Perhaps Cizond read the shame in my face. Perhaps she had divined my thoughts as she did when she chose. But she saw, I was miserable, disgusted with myself, and she raised me to her own level with a smile so sweet and chivalrous that I felt there was manhood left in me yet. Bobby, she said, you promised to show me how to blaze a trail. Have you forgotten? I dropped out of the path to the right, she to the left. Linda passed us to join Blylock, who was waiting. The two big guides tramped on, their boots creaking on the trodden leaves. I drew the light hatchet.

Starting point is 03:58:03 from my belt, removed the leather blade cover, and started on. "'This is all it is,' I said, and struck a light shaving from the bark of a hemlock, cutting it at the base with the next stroke so that the bit of bark fell, leaving a white scar on the tree trunk. "'Always on both sides,' said I, repeating the stroke on the other side of the tree. "'Will you try it, is on?' She took the hatchet in her small-gloved hand, and the chips flew along the trail until I begged her to spare the forest.

Starting point is 03:58:33 "'But the trees don't die,' she exclaimed. "'Oh, Bobby, you're joking. Am I overdoing it?' "'A little,' said I. "'A blind man could follow this forest boulevard.' "'You are blind,' she said calmly. "'Blind!' I cried with a start. "'To your own interests, Bobby. "'Aunt Linda likes you, but she doesn't like to hear you speak flippantly.

Starting point is 03:58:57 "'If you destroy her trust in you, "'she will not let us walk together when we please.' we moved on in silence for a while until isond tired of blazing handed me the hatchet yes said i i am blind i cannot lead you on any trail nor i you she said simply i did not reply for who but i should know that through the fragrant forest bathed in sun and you the blind led on the blind you have formed a habit said as muttering to yourself are you afraid to have me know your thoughts yes said i turning i am afraid she did not answer but i saw her colour deepen and i feared that i had spoken bitterly i was thinking that i had forgotten my flask i continued gaily mr blilock has your flask you are not thinking of that said hisand well said i then tell me of what i was thinking you know you can read my thoughts when you take the trouble i added prudently bobby said his aunt i would take more trouble for your sake than you dream of i stopped short in the trail and faced her but she passed me impatiently i saw her bite her lips as she always did when annoyed.

Starting point is 04:00:16 The chestnut, oak, and dappled beech woods were giving place to pines and hemlocks as we wheeled from the gilded dome trail into the narrower trail that leads over the long divide to the black water. Along the rushing stream, Alder and Hazel waved, silver birches gleaned deep-set entangled depths,

Starting point is 04:00:36 and poplars rose along the water's edge, quivering as the breezes freshened, every glistening leaf a tremble. underfoot brown pine needles spread a polished matting over the forest mould for we had entered the pine belt and the long trail had just begun the breeze in the pines it will always make me think of his wild wind-swept harmonies swelling from the windy ridge the whisper and sigh and rush of water the grey ledges the deep sweep of precipices where lonely rivers glimmer lost in the sea of trees these i remember as I think of Isand, these and more too. The dome of green, the fragments of sky between mixed branches, the silence broken by a single bird note.

Starting point is 04:01:24 The trail crossed a sunny glade, mossy and moist, bordered by black birch thickets, and carpeted with wintergreen. Isond leaned upon her steel-shod staff and looked at her own reflection in the placid spring pool, shining among the ferns. i am very much tanned she said are you thirsty i asked there is a little freckle beside my nose observed izand it is becoming i said yes i am thirsty said hisand what do you know about freckles i handed her a cup of water she drank a little looked over the rim of the cup reflectively drank a little more sighed smiled and poured what was left of the water upon the moss

Starting point is 04:02:11 a libation to the gods she explained to which i asked ah she said i had not thought of that well then to-to to-to i looked at her and she tossed the cup to me saying i shall not tell you i am getting into the habit of telling you everything but-but the gentleman's name i urged no no may i not have a secret all my own very well said i you pour out libation you pour out libation to a gentleman god and i shall even up matters here's to the lady minerva of course you are so wise suggested it's neither to minerva nor to the owl said i it's to the lady aphrodite pf said hezond you are not clever hermes might might what be careful bobby your sleeve is getting wet might what now how should i know exclaimed hisonde mercy i'm not a little greek maiden i strapped the cup to my belt tightened the buckle of my rod-case lighted my pipe and sat down on a log well master bobby said hisond in that bantering voice which she used when perfectly happy well mistress de zon said i are you going to lose the others i pointed to the foot of the long slope where among the tree trunks something blue fluttered "'It's Linda's veil,' said Isand. "'And there is Mr. Blylock also.

Starting point is 04:03:43 "'They are sitting down.' "'True,' said I. "'Let us rest also. "'We have been hours on the trail. "'Here is a dry spot on this log.' "'Izon sat down. "'Now whenever Ison seated herself, "'there was something in the pose of her figure

Starting point is 04:03:57 "'that made me think of courts and kings and coronations. "'The little ceremony of seating herself ended. "'I resumed my seat also, "'feeling it a privilege according, only to the very great. I told her this and she pretended to agree with me. You must be something at court, she said. You cannot be an earl, for earls are blonde and slender. You cannot be a count, for counts are dark and dapper, nor a duke, for dukes are big and always red in the face. You might be a baron. No, they are fierce and merciless. So am I. No, you're not. You can't be a

Starting point is 04:04:34 mark with either, for they are plausible and treacherous. "'Then I'll be a master of owls,' I insisted. "'Let the title go by the board.' She agreed, and I was installed master of stagh-hounds, to her petite majesty, this position permitting me to sit occasionally in her presence. "'I am thirsty again,' said hezond. "'I brought her a cup of ice-cold water, into which I dropped a dozen wild strawberries. She touched a berry with the tip of her pink tongue, which was bad manners,

Starting point is 04:05:03 and I told her so. What do you know about Queen's etiquette? She said disdainfully. And finding the berries ripe, she ate three and smiled at me. A thrush came fearlessly to her very feet and drank from the spring. A mottled wood-toad made futile efforts to clamber up the log into her lap, and two red lizards peeped at her from the cleft in the boulder beside us. It's queer, said I, watching the scrambling toad,

Starting point is 04:05:32 how you seem to fascinate all wild creatures shall i poke the toad away no i am not afraid i am very glad they all come to me you were possibly a dryad once i hazarded possibly and you probably the oak tree that sheltered you sheltered me there is something in the note of a very young bird that i have noticed in ison's voice but now as she laughed oh such soft sweet laughter it seemed to me as though the bird had grown and its note trembled with purer truer melody sheltered me i imagine it she said with a wonderful sweetness in her eyes hark mr blilof is calling she rose with capricious grace as i answered blilock in a view hello which awoke the echoes among the cliffs above us when we came up to them linda linked her arm in his ons and blilock and i pushed ahead after the plodding guides blilog and i discussed trout flylars and casts and philosophy, with an occasional question to the guides, and as we moved, I could hear the light laughter of Linda, and the clear voice of Izond, singing old songs, that were made in France when hawk's bells tinkled in castle courts, and tattled poultry's, poured the drawbridge. It was noon when we entered the Scow Valley, and luncheon was grateful,

Starting point is 04:06:55 but before the leading guide entered the spotted trail, which swings to the west above the third spur of crested hawk, the sun had dropped into the notch between mount eternity and the white lady and the alpang glow crimsoned every peak as we threw down our packs and looked out across the black water here said i our journey ends princess isand i took her gloved hand be seated for below you lies the black water yours by right of conquest i collate it'll be right cold to-night ma'am said buck hansom yes said hisond listlessly. End of Section 19. Section 20 of the Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain.

Starting point is 04:07:53 For more information ought to volunteer. Please visit Librivox.org. Recording by Lynn Thompson. The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories by Robert W. Chambers. The Blackwater chapter v night fell over the black water before the shelter was raised but the great camp-fire lighted up the cleared space among the trees and i saw ellis staggering in under loads of freshly stripped bark for our roof bark hansson finished thatching the exposed ends with hemlock and spruce the partition a broad sheet of heavy bark separated the lean-to into two sections one for linda and isond the other for blilock myself and the guides i had roamed about the underbrush lopping off balsam twigs for our bedding which blilock brought in and spread over the pine-needle floor when ellis finished roofing the hut with his thick roll

Starting point is 04:08:55 of bark I sent him to the spring below with the camp kettle and picking up an axe called to Buck to follow. I should very much like, said Blilock solemnly, to chop a tree into sections adequate for the campfire. Take the axe and my blessing, said I. I hate to chop. It's very good of you, said Blilock, following Buck into the forest, where our firelight glimmered red on rugged trunks towering into the blackness above. Isond came creeping out of her compartment her eyes and cheeks brilliant in the fire's glare linda is lying down she said isn't supper nearly ready how delicious our bed of balsam smells what are you doing with your trout rod i knotted the nine-foot leader to the line slipped on an orange miller for the dropper tied a big coachman three feet above it and picked up my landing-net what is home without a dinner i asked and what is dinner i asked and what is dinner without a trout come down to that rock which hangs over the black water and you shall see your future dinner leaping in the moonlight bobby the poet said hezond steadying herself by my arm in the dark descent to the lake poet bobby there is no moon on the black water

Starting point is 04:10:14 look said i pointing to a pale light in the sky above the white lady the moon will come up over that peak in ten minutes give me your hand it's very dark clinging closely to my arm she moved through the undergrowth until we felt the firm flat rock under our feet the rock ran straight out into the water at right angles from the shore like a pier be careful oh be careful she urged you almost walked off into the water there where the shadows lie so black then hold me said i diplomatically and i felt her warm hands closed tightly on my arm the moon peeped over the shoulder of the white lady as i made my first cast into the darkness ahead and i saw my leader strike the water now placidly rocking like a lake of molten silver oh cried hezon softly oh the wondrous beauty of it all in the silence i heard the thwack of an axe from the woods above and blilock's voice quite plainly the water lapped the edges of the rock below us catching thin gleams from the woods above and blilocks voice quite plainly the water lapped the edges of the rock below us catching thin gleams from the wood the shining sheet beyond and my silk line whistled and whimpered like a keen wind lashing the sea then a wonderful thing occurred out of the depths of the burnished water a slim shape shot showering the black night with spray splash a million little wavelets hurried away into the darkness crowding sparkling dancing in widening circles while the harsh whir of the reel rang in my ears and the silk line melted away like a thread of smoke the rod staggered in my hand is on there are two on now i whispered give me the rod she said excitedly i handed it to her and for a moment she felt the splendid strain

Starting point is 04:12:09 then the fish gave a deep surge to the west and she gasped and pushed the rod into my hands living wild things struggling for life she sighed oh hurry bobby it pains me so, and she pressed both hands to her breast. For a second the joy of the battle left me. I had an impulse to fling the rod into the black water, but I am a hunter by instinct. Deeper and deeper surged the fish, and the rod swayed and bent, until the tip brushed my knuckles. Oh, kill the creatures, murmured his aunt. It is all so fierce and cruel. I never thought you were like that. I am, I muttered, checking a savage sweep toward the north. Quick, he's on, pass me my net.

Starting point is 04:12:56 She did so, and I crawled down to the water's edge, shortening my line at every step. It was soon over. I washed my hands in the black water, and flung the fish back into the landing net. Now, said I, tossing rod and net over my shoulder, we will go to dinner. Lean on my shoulder. How brutal you must think me, Izzond. "'Yes,' said Dizond. "'She passed me. Perhaps it was the moonlight that whitened her cheeks,

Starting point is 04:13:24 "'and I saw her enter the circle of red firelight, "'as Linda came forward to meet her. "'Hello, Ellis,' I called. "'Hello, sir,' came back from the spring among the rocks below, "'and Jimmy Ellis appeared, carrying a chunk of pork. "'Two,' I said, turning the trout out of the landing-net. "'Good fish, sir,' drawled Ellis. "'More enough for dinner,

Starting point is 04:13:47 I suspicion. Split them, said I. Broil both, as only you can broil them. Spring all right? Sweet and full. Dinner is ready above. Blilock came down with a blazing pine knot to inspect the fish, and I heard him rigging his rod ten minutes later as I walked into camp and sat down, glowing from a dip in the tin bucket below. Linda and hisond were nibbling away at broiled trout, hot hot toast and potted pheasant dear me said linda i really must not eat like this i have had three cups of buryon to begin with ison says you are the cleverest angler in the world that of course said isand may be an exaggeration for i have seen very few anglers oh you're not exaggerating one bit i assured her is there any toast over there linda deigned to serve me with hot bouillon and izond tossed a slice of toast to me scandalizing her aunt you little savage said linda reproachfully any trout left i asked where is mr blilock here's the trout smiled izon serving me a bit of the crisp pink fish mr blilock said ha several times when he saw your two trout and went down to the rock flourishing his rod very recklessly

Starting point is 04:15:09 mr blilock never flourishes anything observed linda no he waved it as merlin might have waved why he zond said linda warmly i was discreet enough to finish my toast in silence i was very happy now sir fisherman said hisond a cup of this white wine with your trout what a whole bottle oh linda look at him i see him said linda sleepily i wonder what time it is buck and jimmy having finished their dinner which included a trout between them and a gallon or so of coffee piled half a dozen logs on the fire backed them with half a tree trunk and said good-night very politely and ambled away with the dishes and a pail of boiling water ten minutes later blilock came in with three fair-sized fish which linda admired and i encoreed and then linda and hisand rose with deep reverences and mockingly prayed to be allowed to retire buck and jimmy were already sound asleep if they snore said i there will be murder done on blackwater shore blilock lighted a cigar and i my pipe i never sleep well in camp the first night said i no asked blilock politely no you old jay said i for i was becoming very fond of blilock that broke the back of beacon street for the moment and blilock blossomed out as a story-teller without equal i laughed till it hurt me softly of course and still blilock imperturbable bland told story after story until i marvelled between my spasms of laughter at the make-up of this bostonian at last he went to bed mildly suggesting that i follow his example which i did after i finished my pipe although i knew i should sleep that little about ten o'clock buck hanson snored i leaned over blilock already fast

Starting point is 04:17:09 asleep and poked the wretched buck until he stopped. Ten minutes later, Ellis began a solo, which I have never since heard equaled. Great heavens, I muttered, and jabbed him viciously with my rod-butt, but Jimmy Ellis didn't wake, and before I knew it, Buck Hanson, taking a mean advantage, chimed in with a snort that would have done credit to a rogue elephant. This was not all. I dread to record it, but I am trying to tell the truth in this story. i pray the lady to pardon me if i suggest that from the other side of the bark partition came a sound delicate discreet but continuous in short a gentle no no i can never bring myself to write it down i am no brute madam and after all only men snore a black fly got into my neck and bothered me later and midge followed the example of his erring colleague to slay them both was my intention and in doing so I awoke Blylock, who sleepily protested.

Starting point is 04:18:14 This was exasperating, and I told him so, but he was asleep again before I finished. Why on earth I should never be able to sleep more than an hour or so on my first night in camp, I who have camped in the forest for years, I never can understand. I endured the concerted snores of the whole camp as long as I could. Then I crawled to the fire outside, hauled to the fire outside, hauled to the, two fresh logs into the blaze, swathed myself in my blankets, lighted a fresh pipe,

Starting point is 04:18:45 and sat down with my feet to the heat, and my back against a sapling. Outside the wavering ring of firelight, the blackness was so profound, so hopelessly impenetrable, that I wondered whether a storm was rolling up behind the scour. Trees, brush, rocks, and ledges,

Starting point is 04:19:03 the whole huge forest, root and branch, seemed woven together into curtains of utter darkness, which wavered, advanced, and receded, with the ever-dying, ever-leaping flames. There was no storm, for I saw stars on the strip of darkness above, little pale stars, timidly glimmering in the depths of a vast vault. The moon had long ago passed behind the scour, that sullen mass of menacing ledges, blackening the fathomless stretch of the black water.

Starting point is 04:19:34 There were noises in the forest, stealthy steps and timid squire. scratchings, now faint as if across the rocking lake, now nearer, now so sudden and sharp that I involuntarily leaned forward, striving to pierce the outer circle of gloom beyond the firing. Once something brushed and rustled among the leaves behind me. I saw a grey snake glide into the warm glow by my feet. Get out! I whispered with a gesture of annoyance. The serpent slowly raised its head, flashed a foreman. walked tongue at me swayed a moment then noiselessly moved on into the night salu oh monroix said a low voice behind me and his aunt crept out of her fragrant bed of balsam and curled up in her blanket at my feet oh dear she sighed i am so sleepy but i can't sleep why is it bobby i haven't closed my eyes once then said i under my breath it was not you who shh linda might hear you not probable judging from symptoms you're impertinent bobby hark do you hear what was it anything from a to a porcupine the forest is always full of sounds are you warm is und yes and so sleepy that ah what was that anything from a woodmouse to a weasel i don't believe it a form perhaps i heard deer among the pitcher plants at the head of the blackwater a few minutes ago

Starting point is 04:21:08 gentle things murmured is armed i wish they would come close to me i love them i love everything and everything on earth and see loves you is armed her lids were drooping and she smiled half asleep bobby she murmured i believe i could sleep here by you you make me sleepy her head drooped and rested on my blanket after a moment it may have been an hour i whispered bending over her Do you sleep, his aunt? And again, do you sleep? The stars flickered and died in the heavens. The flames sank lower, lower, and the great black night crept into the camp, smothering the fading fire with pale shadows, vague and strange, moving, swaying, until my eyes closed and I slept. Was it a second? Was it an hour? I sat bolt upright, staring at the dying embers before me. A bit of charred log fell in with the soft crash, sending a jet of sparks into the air,

Starting point is 04:22:13 where they faded and went out. Went out? There were two, two big green sparks that had not faded with the others, and I, half asleep, watched them, vaguely curious. Ah, they are moving now. No, they are still again, close together. The hair stirred on my head, my heart ceased, thumped once, stopped. It seemed out.

Starting point is 04:22:37 and leaped into my throat almost stifling me with its throbbing I was not dreaming for I felt the sweat trickling in my eyebrows and the roots of my hair were cold and damp Izond moved in her slumber frowned and raised her hand a low snarl came from the shadows slowly the power of thinking returned to me but my eye never left those two green sparks now blazing like lamps there in the darkness when would the thing spring would i have time to fling hisonde behind me would it spring if i called to blilock blilock had a rifle would it spring if i moved or if hisond moved again gently scarcely stirring i tried to flee my knees and the creature snarled twice it's against all precedent in these woods i thought for any of the cat tribe to dare attack a camp a sudden anger took possession of me a fury of impatience and quick as the thought i sprang among the embers and hurled a glowing branch straight into the creature's eyes what happened after that i can scarcely tell i know a heavy soft mass struck me senseless but my ears at moments ring yet with that horrid scream which seemed to split and tear the night asunder wavering quavering long after i was hurled on my back and my eyes seemed stark open in oceans of blood end of section twenty section twenty one of the maker of moons and other short stories this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit visit librivox dot org recording by lynn thompson the maker of moons and other short stories by robert w chambers the black water chapter six

Starting point is 04:24:39 when i came to my senses it was still dark or so it seemed to me after a while i felt a hand shifting the bandage which pressed heavily over both eyes and in a moment or two somebody raised me by the shoulders somebody else by the knees and I heard Blylock cock his rifle and say, Give me that torch-buck and walk faster. Blylock, I gasped, they're lugging me in as I loved in Sutherland, mauled by a panther, and I laughed miserably. Hello, said Blylock in a low voice.

Starting point is 04:25:12 I thought you'd brace up. Are you bleeding much? I don't know, I muttered. What in hell's the matter? Matter, repeated Blylock. The forest has gone mad, it's preposterous, but the woods are full of box.

Starting point is 04:25:25 "'Bobcats, troops of them! "'And the skulking brutes have actually got the nerve to follow us.' "'Can't I walk?' I groaned. "'Where is Izond?' "'But I was beginning to remember. "'Walk? Yes, if you want to bleed to death. "'The ladies are here between me and the guides who are toting you.' "'Izond,' I murmured.

Starting point is 04:25:45 "'Pardon me for my profanity. "'I am dazed. Where are you?' "'Here, Bobby,' whispered Izand. "'Close beside you. "'Don't talk, dear. "'You are very much hurt.' are you speaking to meazond i said doubting my senses to you bobby she whispered close to my ear didn't you know that i loved you ah try to live and you will know my strength was ebbing fast but i think i muttered something that she understood for the light touch of her hand was on my cheek and i felt it tremble somebody gave me water i was choking and my burning lips shrank and cracked beneath the cool draught

Starting point is 04:26:25 i could hear jimmy ellis muttering to buck hanson and hanson's replies look out buck there's a rut mr blilock can you drip your pine knot this side sew fashion steady buck steady it is hold up his legs mr blilock throw a stun by that windfall there's a lucivey sneaking around in behind quack spoke blilock's rifle and then i heard buck's nasal draw a stun is just as good mr blilock they're scared half to death i suspicion it's the pork thereafter throw that pork into the woods jimmy said blilock we'll be in before long good heavens how dark it is lay him down and throw that pork away there may be a panther among them there be drawled buck i seen him you did why didn't you say so i can't waste cartridges on those infernal lynxes i says to you mr blilock says i throws stuns just as good replied by placidly and i was lifted again fore and aft it's incredible grumbled blilock what's got it into all these moth-eaten lynxes and mangy panthers i've been twenty years in these woods and i never before saw even a tom-cat i ain't seed nothing like this there's three or four bobcats around us now and i ain't never see'd but once a close before jimmy was there that night i just disremember if it was about gummin time crack when Blilock's rifle, and I heard a whine from the thickets on the left. That's the panther.

Starting point is 04:27:59 Let him have it again, said Ellis. Again the rifle cracked. The darned cuss, drawled Buck. Shoot again, Mr. Blilock. No need, said Ellis. Listen. There he goes, loping off. Hear him snarl.

Starting point is 04:28:13 Hit, I guess, said Buck, and we moved on. Once I heard Buck complain that a particularly bold lynx kept trotting along the trail behind, smelling and sniffing almighty close to my shins, he asserted. And there certainly was an awful yell when Blylock wheeled in his tracks and fired. I heard Ellis laughing, and Buck said, How them lucivees do screech? Worse in a screech, ow, added Ellis. That is the last thing I remembered,

Starting point is 04:28:43 until I woke in my bed in the Rosebud Inn. The bandage was still on my eyes. I felt too weak to raise a finger, and the rest of my body seemed stiff and hard as wood. I heard somebody rocking in a rocking chair, and I spoke. I am here, said I zond, but her voice seemed choked and unsteady. What time is it? I asked incoherently. Half-past eleven, said hezond.

Starting point is 04:29:08 I'm hungry, said I, and that was my last effort until they brought me a bowl of beef broth with an egg in it, and I had managed to swallow it all. I heard the door closed, and for a moment, I thought I was alone, but presently the rocking-chair creaked, and I called again, Isand? I'm here. What is the matter with me?

Starting point is 04:29:30 You have been ill. How long? Two days, Bobby. You will get well. The claws poisoned you. Try to sleep now. What claws? The Panthers.

Starting point is 04:29:40 Don't you remember? No. Yes, a little. Where are the lynxes? Where is Blylock? Isand laughed softly. Mr. Blylock has gone to Boston on important business. I will tell you all about it when you can get up.

Starting point is 04:29:57 He's to be married. And Linda? Linda is downstairs. Shall I call her? No. The next day I drank more broth, and two days later I sat up. It took me half an hour and some groans to do so.

Starting point is 04:30:11 I think, said I, listening to the rocking chair, that it is high time I saw something. Lift my bandage, please, is on. Only one side, she said, and lowered the cloth that concealed my right eye, the sightless one. There was a silence, a wretched moment of suspense, and then Izond cried, What is it? Can't you see? Can't you see me? Oh, Bobby! When I spoke, I hardly knew what I said, but it was something about Keens assuring me that nobody but an oculus could tell that I was blind in my right eye.

Starting point is 04:30:46 I remember I felt very angry at Kean and demanded to know how Aizond could see that my right eye was sightless. I am glad I was spared the agony of her face. I would willingly have been spared the agony of her voice as she cried, Did I do that? I tried to move, but her arms were about me. I tried to explain that her warm mouth closed my lips. I only thought that it was very pleasant to be blind. the eyes of an oculist and the eyes of love see everything who says that love is blind her tears fell on my cheeks when she asked pardon i answered by asking pardon and she but after all that is our own affair

Starting point is 04:31:31 and my left eye said i is that gone too almost well said he zand it was a sympathetic shock or something i was afraid the clause had struck it but dr kean kean "'Yes, he's gone to Holderness now. "'Don't you remember his being here with Dr. Conroy, the surgeon?' "'No,' said I. "'I was too badly mauled. "'I have been clawed by a panther then.' "'A little,' said hisond, with gentle sarcasm. "'After a moment I inquired about the present health of the panther,

Starting point is 04:32:03 "'and was assured that he was probably flourishing his tail "'in excellent spirit somewhere among the scowl crags. "'Then Blylock didn't hit him? "'He hit something.' for I heard it scream. Oh, my darling, what a horrible night! And you dying, as I believed, and the tangled brush,

Starting point is 04:32:21 and the flare of the torch, and the firing! Are you thirsty? Your lips are burning, said his arms. I have a joke on Keene, James Keene, the great oculist, the wise, the infallible, and I trust he will swallow his medicine, like a little man when he reads this.

Starting point is 04:32:40 It happened this way. I was sitting under the trees, by the tennis court with his own, watching the snowbirds fluttering in the meadow grass, and listening to the Robin who, boldly balanced on the tip of his spruce tree, was doing his best. The bluebirds were teaching their young to navigate the air, twittering and tittering at the efforts of their youngsters and truly frivolous family. The drab-coloured cow had also done her best, and the result was a miniature copy of herself, also an expert cud-turer.

Starting point is 04:33:14 Billy, ridiculous Billy, the white, whiskered and malicious, was spread in the low forks of an apple tree, a splendid representation of a disreputable doormat. Linda sat at the bay window in the Rosebud Inn, embroidering something in white and cold. She also succeeded in doing her best in her own line, which was to look more beautiful every day. I saw Blylock's shadow behind her. When are they to be married, Dizond, I asked for the 50th time. on the twenty-seventh old bobby it's shocking to keep forgetting and we're to be best man and bridesmaid too the sun dazzled my left eye and i closed it for a second then a miraculous thing happened an everlasting joke on keene for although i had closed my sound eye and by rights should have been blind as a bat i was nothing of the kind my right eye is on i can see do you understand i can see i stammered oh it was glorious glorious as the joyous wonder in his on's eyes it was a miracle

Starting point is 04:34:23 i don't care what kean says about it having happened before or about it happening once in ten thousand cases and i don't care a brass farthing for his subsequent observations concerning the optic nerve and partial paralysis and retinas and things it was and must remain one of god's miracles and that is enough for izond and for me we will go to the glade and repaint my picture which you erased said i she understood and forgave me for i hardly knew what i was saying come she said her eyes were wonderfully sweet and bluer than the flowering flax around us so with her hand in mine we walked up the scented path to the rosebud in Billy lumbering along behind us, twitching his hoary whiskers. End of Section 21. Section 22 of The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories. This is a Libervox recording. All Liberbox recordings are in the public domain.

Starting point is 04:35:32 For more information or to volunteer, please visitliberbox.org. Recording by Mirianne Spiegel. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers. In the name of the Most High, Chapter 1 On the third day toward noon, the fire slackened. The smoke from the four batteries on the bluff, across the north fork of the river slowly lifted, drifting to the east.

Starting point is 04:36:01 The Texas riflemen kept up a pattering fuselade until one o'clock. Then their bugles rang, cease firing, and echoes of the last sulky shot died out against the cliffs. Keenan, crouching behind one of his hot guns could see the Texas sharpshooters retiring to the bluff, little gray shadows in the scrub oak thicket gliding, flitting like wild hedgebirds, toward the nest of canyon above. Don't let him get away like that, shouted Douglas. Give it to him, in the name of God. And Keenan smiled and sent the Texans a messenger in the name of God, a messenger which fell thundering

Starting point is 04:36:40 from the sky above them, crushing the face of the iron-stained cliff, and the lives of those who had clustered there to breathe a little. Amen, said Keenan, patting his gun. Douglas crawled out of a hole in the rocks and drew himself up to the edge of the breastworks. Claymore emerged from a shallow rifle pit and walked slowly along the entrenchments, motioning his men back into their burrows.

Starting point is 04:37:05 Because, he said, a hole in the hill is worth two in your head. Get into that ditch, Morris. Cunningham, if you don't duck that red head of yours, I'll dock it. Captain Claymore, said Douglas, lowering his field glass. Two batteries have limbered up. They are trotting toward the cemetery. May they trot into it and stay there, said Keenan, examining the wreck of an ammunition chest in the ditch. Claymore studied the bluff with his marine glasses for a while, then called to Keenan. How many guns have you now? Four shot a Keenan from the ditch.

Starting point is 04:37:42 all my horses are shot except two mules. A burst of laughter cut him short. His own tattered artillerymen, to their credit, did not smile. But Douglas and Kellogg laughed, and rows of grinning faces emerged from holes and pits along the ditch, until Claymore shouted, down, and his infantry disappeared, chuckling. Keenan, red in the face, turned to his battery men who were running the guns forward, and put his own ragged shoulder to the wheel. Claymore sat down on a stone and watched a lank artillery man, splicing the dented staff of the battery guide on. I guess that'll do, Captain, he drawled, holding the staff out to Claymore, who took it and rubbed the polished wood with his sleeve. It will do, Pillsbury, he said. Where is O'Halloran?

Starting point is 04:38:30 Shot in the stomach, said the private, and unable to work. Dead? I presume, likely he's dead, sir, returned Pillsbury through his nose. I've got a man for the gildon. called Keenan from the ditch, and a fat, freckled cannoneer, waddled forward and stood at attention. Look out, sang Douglas from his post on the breastworks, and, down, cried Claymore, as a shell rose in the air over them, and the boom of a gun rolled across the river from the bluff. The scream of the shell ceased. A white cloud shot with lightning, appeared in the air above them, and a storm of shrapnel swept the breastworks. Claymore sprang to his feet, but the fat cannoneer remained on the ground.

Starting point is 04:39:13 Get up, said Claymore, cautiously. Pillsbury, lift him. Is he dead? I guess, said Pillsbury, he's suffering from a hereditary disease. A? What disease? Snapped Claymore, stepping forward. I guess it's death, said Pillsbury,

Starting point is 04:39:31 with an expressionless wink. Claymore stared at him through his eyeglasses, then turned on his heel. I wish, grumbled Keenan, that the wounded would make less noise. Douglas, send them another bucket of water, will you? Is the surgeon dead? Dying, said Kellogg.

Starting point is 04:39:49 Never mind, Douglas, I'll see to the water. Keep your glass on their batteries. What are they doing now? Nothing, replied Douglas. Wait a bit. Ah, here come their sharpshooters again. To hell with them, muttered Keenan savagely, for his battery men had been cruelly scourged by the sharpshooters,

Starting point is 04:40:09 and he almost foamed with rage when he looked over into the ditch at the foot of the mound. The odor from the ditch had become frightful. Look down there, Captain, he called to Claymore, his voice trembling with passion, but Claymore only nodded sadly. He was watching something else. A figure in the uniform of a staff officer, filthy with grime and sweat, had crawled through what was left of the covered bridge across the South Fork, and was wriggling his way toward the debris of Keenan's battery. Claymore watched him with puckered eyes.

Starting point is 04:40:41 What do you want, Sonny? he asked. As the staff officer crept past him, orders, give him to me, keep to the ground, you fool, he added, as a flight of bullets swept overhead. The staff officer lifted a flushed face, scratched and smeared with dust and sweat, and attempted a salute. Colonel Worst compliments to Colonel Randall, he began,

Starting point is 04:41:04 but was interrupted by Claymore. Colonel Randall's in the dimly. below with most of his regiment piled on top of him. What are your orders? Hold on to that bridge till hell freezes? I thought so. I'm Claymore, Captain of the 10th New York sharpshooters. Yonder's what's left of us, and there's two dozen of Colonel Randall's Rhode Islanders among them, too. Major Wilcox has got a hole in his face and can't speak. You see what's left of Keenan's battery. Four guns and few to serve them except my rifleman. Isn't General Hooker in sight? The staff officer raised his blue eyes to the wreck of the battery, and then looked questioningly at

Starting point is 04:41:41 Claymore. The latter lay moodily twisting and untwisting the stained leather thong whipped around his sword-hilt. "'I'm ranking officer here,' he said. "'The rest are dead. My compliments to General Kempner, and tell him his order shall be obeyed. Both bridges are mined. Murphy is watching for Long Street. What are you shivering for?' "'Aggue,' said the staff officer in a low voice. Claymore spat out a mouthful of dust that a bullet had flung in his face and wiped his glasses on his sleeve. "'Who are you from, anyway?' he demanded. "'I don't take orders from Colonel Worth.' "'General Kempner is dead,' said the staff officer simply. Keenan came up chewing a twig and whistling. Captain Claymore, said the staff officer,

Starting point is 04:42:28 "'My horse has been shot and Colonel Worth is waiting. Will you point me out the quickest way back?' "'Back?' broke in Keenan. "'You can't get back, my boy.' "'I must,' said the youngster, without glancing at the artillery officer. "'Oh, if it's a case of must,' said Claymore indifferently, "'come ahead, and he rose to his knees "'and peered across the swollen south fork,

Starting point is 04:42:52 "'now a vast torrent of mud. "'Crack, crack rang the rifles from the opposite shore, "'and the little staff officer's cap was jerked from his head "'and rolled down the embankment into the river. keen and cursed. Come on, Sunny, said Claymore, scrambling down the embankment to the ditch. The ditch was choked with mangled bodies in blue, flung one over the other amid smashed gunwheels, casons, knapsacks, and rifles, and the staff officer hesitated for an instant at the brink.

Starting point is 04:43:20 Jump, called Claymore. Here, get down behind this rock and keep your nose out of sight. Those Texas gentlemen waste few bullets. Are you hit? No, said the little staff officer. Bull luck. Did you see Randall's men? The shells did it. Look there. He pointed the length of the ditch. The staff officer turned pale. Everywhere corpses, mere heaps of blue rags, stained yellow by dust and black with stiff blood. Everywhere dented canteens, twisted muskets, unsavory scattered clothing, worn shoes, and shrunken blue caps. A big black horse, bloated and dusty, lay with both hind legs stark in the air. air. Under him were dead men, mostly Kenans, by the red stripes on the faded trousers. Claymore pulled his short blonde mustache and turned to the staff officer. You see that slaughter pen, he said, tell Colonel Worth. The staff officer felt for his cap, remembered it had been shot off his head, and looked gravely at Claymore.

Starting point is 04:44:25 I have four guns and two hundred and twenty odd men, said the letter. If they bring back their batteries, an hour or two will see us all in the ditch below with Randall. If they don't, we can hold onto the South Fork Bridge, I fancy. Do you know why they withdrew their batteries? No, unless it was to shell Colonel Wirth's cavalry. His men are in the woods beyond the railroad. If you can hold the bridge until night, they will keep the line open. Colonel Worth is waiting.

Starting point is 04:44:54 I must go back now, Captain. Claymore leaned along the edge of the protecting ledge and handed his field-glasses to the boy. Now, he said, you can see the bend in the river. There are three pines on the bank above, see? Yes. Take the footpath by those pines until you come to a burnt barn. Follow the river after that, and if the iron bridge isn't blown up yet, you can get across. If it's blown up, you can't join Colonel Worth. But a, a boat? A boat in that? They looked at the foaming torrent, thundering among the rocks. After a moment the staff officer pointed to the shot-torn bridge below them.

Starting point is 04:45:36 Oh, said Claymore, you came that way, didn't you? Well, miracles do happen, and that was one of them. But if you try to get back that way, the performance won't be on chord. And you can bet your curly head on that, my son. That's the shortest way, said the little staff officer. Yes, the shortest way to Kingdom come, said Claymore, disgusted. If you're not shot, the Texans will catch you. They were crouching on the hot, dried grass side by side. The sweat poured down Claymore's forehead, washing the powder grime into thick patches over his young face. He threw his blackened jacket open at the throat, rubbed his forehead with his sleeve and said, "'Hoof!' "'It's the shortest way,' repeated the other, rising to his knees. "'You can't go,' said Claymore sharply.

Starting point is 04:46:25 "'The bridge is mined, and Murphy may blow it up at any moment.' the youth handed back the field glasses with a smile for a moment their eyes met then claymore's flushed face turned a bright crimson and he caught his breath muttering i'm blessed captain claymore said the staff officer coolly you are detaining me from my duty have i your permission to leave They eyed each other steadily. You must not go, said Claymore, in a curious, husky voice. Let me send a man. Have I your leave? Come back, cried Claymore. I won't give it.

Starting point is 04:47:02 But the youngster sprang to his feet, touched his curly head in quick salute, and started on a run toward the covered bridge, holding his saber close to his thigh. Drop, shouted Claymore, and began to swear under his breath, but the youngster ran on. And to Claymore's amazement, the rifles of the fierce Texans on the other side of the river were silent. On and still on ran the boy until, with a sigh of astonishment and relief,

Starting point is 04:47:26 Claymore saw him push in among the handful of blue-clad engineers at the edge of the bridge, but he went no further, for they stopped him with level bayonets, shaking their heads and gesticulating, and suddenly Claymore noticed that the bridge was a fire at the further end. Murphy's fire the bridge, he called out to Kellogg on the plateau above. Kellogg's head appeared over a shattered gun limber. Then Long Street's coming, you bet. I suppose so. Can't you see anything?

Starting point is 04:47:54 Call Douglas. The Texas rifles cracked again. Kellogg did not answer. Can't you see any movement near the woods? demanded Claymore from his rock. Then he looked carefully at Kellogg's head, appearing to rest between two bits of sod, and he saw, in the middle of the forehead,

Starting point is 04:48:11 a round, dark spot, from which a darker line crept slowly. down over the nose. After a second or two, he turned from the dead eyes, staring fixedly at him, and looked across the river where the rifles were spitting death. The round white blotches of smoke hung along the riverbank, like shreds of cotton floating. Then he glanced towards the bridge again. There was a commotion there, a group of excited soldiers around a slender figure, bareheaded, gesticulating. "'What's that hop of my thumb up to now?' he muttered excitedly, and raised his field glass. By jingo, trying to cross the bridge, and it's a fire. For a moment he knelt,

Starting point is 04:48:53 his eyes glued to the field glasses. Then with an angry exclamation, he turned toward the floating rifle smoke along the opposite bank. The chances were that he'd be hit, and he knew it, but he only muttered pettishly, you fool, and started stooping low towards the swaying knot of men at the bridge. The chances were ten to one that he'd be hit, and he'd be hit, and he'd only muttered. he was, but he only straightened up and ran on. The mini-balls came whizzing about his head, and blood ran down into his boot, and filled it so that he sloped as he ran. And, after all, he was too late, for, as he panted up to the bridge, far down the covered way, he saw the youngster speeding over the smoking rafters. Stop him, he gasped. A soldier raised his rifle,

Starting point is 04:49:39 but Claymore jerked it down. Not that way, he said, leaning back on his sword. along the dry timber tunnel crept the boy, for the fire was all about him now, once he fell but rose again. Has the mine been fired? The powder trail? asked Claymore in a dull voice. A soldier nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but a deafening roar drowned his voice and gave Claymore his answer. Is that all? asked Claymore again, as the smoke rushed skyward, and the ground trembled and cracked beneath them. One more, said the sergeant curtly, as Captain Murphy hurried up. The whole further section of the bridge had crumbled into the torrent below. The smoke swept through the tunnel, and when it lifted, Claymore caught a glimpse of a figure

Starting point is 04:50:22 dragging itself back from the Gulf ahead. The soldiers saw it too. He would go, said one of them, as though speaking to himself. Claymore tore off his jacket and held it before his face. You can't do it, cried Murphy, horrified. Let go, I must, said Claymore quietly. Cut the match, if you can. The minds are on fire. In the name of God, Claymore, urged the engineer officer, holding him back by both shoulders. Damn you, Murphy, let me go, cried Claymore, fiercely. Let go, I say. I will not, Claymore. We can't lose you for a fool of a boy. But it's a woman, roared Claymore, wrenching himself free. End of Section 22. Section 23 of The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories.

Starting point is 04:51:17 This is a Libervox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libervox.org. Recording by Marianne. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers In the name of the Most High, Chapter 2 As he ran through the smoke-choked bridge, bright little flame shot from the crackling timbers, and he felt the hot breath of the furnace underneath. And all the time he kept repeat repeating as he ran, I'm a fool, I'm a fool, it's all up now. But he hurried on, shielding his face with his braided jacket, feeling his way through the flurries of smoke and sparks, until a whirl of

Starting point is 04:52:00 flame blocked his way, and on the edge of the burning depths he found what he was looking for. She was very slender and light in her ragged uniform, and he lifted her and wrapped his jacket about her head. Then he started back, increasing his speed as the black smoke rolled up from the planks underfoot, but it was easier than he had dared dream of, for she revived, and when Murphy loomed up in the gloom and steadied them with an arm, he laughed aloud from sheer nervousness. Then a terrific explosion threw him on his face, but Murphy helped him up, and he seized his burden again and staggered toward the hill where Keenan's guns were already thundering, and the crack, crack, crack of rifles echoed and re-echoed from rock to cliff.

Starting point is 04:52:43 "'Your hit,' said Douglas, as he entered the entrenchment. "'I know it,' said Claymore, hastily scanning the rifle pits. "'Keep the men under cover. Douglas, what's up? Wait, I'll be there in a second. Here, Pillsbury, take this officer to my borough and stay there until I come.' Douglas, lying close to the top of the breastworks, glasses leveled, began to speak in a monotonous voice. Two batteries have returned and are unlimbering to the west. They seem to have cavalry, too. A heavy column is moving pair. parallel to the railroad, infantry and ammunition convoy, more infantry coming through the cemetery.

Starting point is 04:53:22 I can see more on the hill beyond. The batteries have unlimbered. Look out. Down, shot a Claymore, but the shells sailed high overhead and plunged into the muddy torrent of the South Fork. Keenan, he called. Do you want volunteers? Not yet. Damn the Texans, bawled Keenan through the increasing din. Douglas began. they are, and fell overstone dead. Claymore heard the mini-balls thud, as they struck the dead body, half-flung across the breastwork, and Keenan, maddened by the bullets while searching his dwindling files, bellowed hoarsely as one by one his guns flashed and roared.

Starting point is 04:54:05 Now, in the name of God, lads, to hell with them. Like devils in the pit, the cannoneers worked at their guns, looming through the infernal smoke Paul stripped to their waists. Kenan, soaked with sweat and black from eyes to ankle, raged like a fiend from squad to squad, while his guns crashed and the whole hill vomited flame. Thicker and blacker rolled the smoke from the battery encampment, until it shrouded the hill. Then out of the darkness reeled Keenan, howling for volunteers and weeping over the loss of another gun. Three left, motioned Claymore faintly with his lips. Three. Number four dismounted and killed. Send me some of your infantry, and the artillery men plunged into the blazing furnace again.

Starting point is 04:54:52 Below them the grass and abattus caught fire, and the smarting smoke of green wood, almost blinded Claymore. Murphy and his engineers were at work among the crackling logs, but after a while the dull blows of their axes died away, and Claymore knew they were dead. More men for the guns, roared Keenan from the darkness, and a dozen Rhode Islanders tumbled out of their burrows and groped their way into the battery. In another moment, Keenan came staggering out again, gasping like a fish, and waving his arms blindly. They've got another gun, Claymore. Only two now. More men for the guns. Claymore, half-fainting from loss of blood, motioned to his men for volunteers, and they came, cheering for old New York and vanished, engulfed in the battery smoke. The hill was swept by fierce

Starting point is 04:55:41 cyclones of lead. Bullets flew in streams, whistling, hurtling among the rocks, rebounding into the rifle pits, carrying death to those below. Great shells tore through the clouds, bursting and shattering the cliff overhead. A whirlwind of flame from the burning bridge swept over the hillside, hiding the river and the heights opposite, and the burning abattas belted smoke and torrents of sparks. Claymore sat down near the burrow and picked the bits of cloth from the long tear which the bullet had made in his flesh above the knee. The last of the engineer company came toiling up from the railroad bridge, and the lieutenant nodded to his question. Yes, the bridge is blown out of the water. Where can I put

Starting point is 04:56:24 my men in, Captain? Claymore pointed to the pits, and they went into them, cheering shrilly. A moment later a shell fell into one of the crowded pits and exploded, throwing out a column of sand and bodies torn limb from limb. Only one gun was firing now from Keenan's battery, but from that one gun the lightning sped continuously, fed by a constantly renewed stream of volunteers. Claymore, watching Keenan, thought that he had really gone mad. Perhaps he had, and perhaps that is why Heaven directed a bullet to his brain before the loss of his last gun should kill him with grief. Then a shell smashed up the muzzle of the last gun, and the remnants of the servants dragged themselves away to lie panting like hounds on the scorched earth or die inch by inch

Starting point is 04:57:12 from some gaping wound. The jig is up, said Claymore allowed to himself. For a quarter of an hour the enemy's guns rained shells into the extinct crater, the tomb of Keenan and his cannon. Then, understanding that Keenan had been silenced forever, their fire died out, and Claymore could hear bugles blowing clearly in the distance. He staggered to his feet and called to his men, but of the tenth New York rifles only 30 came stumbling from the pits. Pillsbury also answered the call, sauntering unconcernedly from the borough whither he had carried Claymore's charge. All around them, the wounded were shrieking for water, and Claymore aided his men to carry them to the spring which flowed sparkling from the rocks above. It was out of the question to remove them.

Starting point is 04:57:58 It was useless to think of burying the dead. The three-day struggle for the hill had ended, and now all the living would have to leave. all except one. Pillsbury, said Claymore, take my men and strike for the churnpike due north. I can't walk. I am too weak yet, but you have time to get out. March. The men refused, and Pillsbury called for a litter of rifles, but a volley whistled in among them, and they reeled. Save that their flag, shouted Pillsbury. I've got the get on. Claymore lay on the ground motionless, and when they lifted him, his head fell back.

Starting point is 04:58:34 Dead, said Pillsbury soberly, poor cuss. A rifleman threw his jacket over Claymore's face and started running down the hill to where the color guard was closing around a bundle of flags, black and almost dropping from the staffs. Save the colors, they cried, and staggered on toward the north. End of Section 23. Section 24 of The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories.

Starting point is 04:59:04 This is a Libervox recording. all Libervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit libravox.org. Recording by Mary Ann. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers In the name of the Most High, Chapter 3 It may have been thirst, it may have been the groans of the wounded that roused Claymore. He was lying close by the rivulet that ran from the rock spring, and he plunged hands and head into it and soaked his fill. The wound on his leg had seen. The wound on his leg had stiffened, but to his surprise he found it neatly dressed and bandaged. Had aid arrived?

Starting point is 04:59:42 Hello, he called. The deep sigh of a dying manned was his only answer. He hardly dared to look around. The air was stifling with the scent of blood and powder and filthy clothing, and he rose painfully to his feet and tottered into the cool burrow among the rocks. His blanket and flask lie there, but before he raised the flask to his lips, he lifted the corner of the blanket nervously. Underneath stood a small oblong box into which was screwed an electric button. Two insulated wires entered the ground directly in front of the box, which was marked in black letters, Watson's excelsior soap. Claymore replaced the blanket, swallowed a mouthful of whiskey and lay down, utterly exhausted.

Starting point is 05:00:25 It was late in the afternoon when he awoke from the pain in his leg, but somebody had bandaged it again while he slept, and he was able to move out into the entrenchments. Most of the wounded were dead. The rest were dying in silence. He did what he could for Cunningham, who joked feebly and watched Morris with quiet eyes. Morris died first, and Cunningham, hearing the death rattle in his comrade's throat, murmured, Finn, he lived, he bade me, but oil give him a race to the saints for his money. Is Dick Morris dead now? Dead, said Claimor. Thin, good-bye, Captain Deere, whispered Cunningham.

Starting point is 05:01:02 at first Claymore thought he was sleeping. The evening fell over the hilltop, and the last of the wounded shivered and died, withdrawn face upturned into the driving clouds. Claymore covered the boy's face. He was scarcely sixteen, and sat down with his back against a rock. The wreck of Kenan's battery rose before him in the twilight, stark and mute, silhouetted against the western horizon. Lights began to sparkle along the opposite riverbank, and now, from the heights, towards Orches swung in semi-circles, signaling victory for the army of the South, death and disaster to the north. Far away over the wooded hills, dull sounds came floating on the breeze, the distant, rhythmic cadence of volley-firing. There were fires, too, faint flares of light on the horizon where Thomas was standing like a rock.

Starting point is 05:01:53 On a nearer slope, a house and barn were burning, lighting up the stumps and rocks in the clearing, and casting strange shadows over the black woods. in the gathering twilight someone came down the cliffs at his back treading carefully among the shell split fragments and claymore saw it was the little staff officer she did not see him until he called her i want to thank you for dressing that scratch of mine he said rising you are very welcome she said is it better yes and you you saved my life she said but you are burnt you must have been no only stifled "'Are the wounded alive? I did what I could.' "'They are dead,' said Claymore. She unhirked her saber and sat down beside him, looking off over the valley. After silence, he said, I suppose you are one of our spies.

Starting point is 05:02:46 I have heard of the women's spies, and I once saw Belle Boyd. How did you happen to take the place of an aide-de-camp?' "'Am I to tell all my secrets to an infantry captain?' she said, with a trace of a smile in her blue eyes. "'Oh, I suppose not,' he answered. answered, and relapsed into silence. Presently she drew a bit of bacon and hard tack from her pouch, and quietly divided it. They both drank from the rivulet after the meal was finished.

Starting point is 05:03:12 She brushed the water from her lips with a sun-tanned hand, and looking straight at Claymore said, The hill below the abatis is mine, is it not? Now, really, said Claymore, am I to tell all my secrets to a girl spy? She stared at him for a moment, and then smiled. I know it already, she said. "'Oh,' said Claymore, "'and do you know where the wires are buttoned?' "'Wires?' she exclaimed.

Starting point is 05:03:37 "'Of course. "'Be thankful that poor Murphy's mines at the bridge were old-fashioned. "'If there have been wires there, "'you would not be sitting here.' "'And you have stayed to fire the mine?' "'She said at length. "'Yes. "'The bridges are gone, and the river is impassable.

Starting point is 05:03:53 "'It will be days before Longstreet's men can cross.' "'I know it,' said Claymore. "'But when they come I'll be here, and so will the mine. The spy dropped her clasped hands into her lap. I'll blow them to hell, said Claymore savagely, glaring at the silent dead around him. Then he begged her pardon for forgetting himself, and leaned against the rock to adjust his eyeglasses. That would be useless butchery, said the girl earnestly. That will do, said Claymore in a quiet voice. The girl shrank away as though she had been struck. Claymore noticed it and

Starting point is 05:04:29 said, if you are a government spy, you are subject to army regulations. I would rather treat you as a woman, but I cannot while you wear that uniform or hold a commission. How, in heaven's name, did you come to enter the service? You can't be eighteen. You are of gentle breeding. I am a spy, she exclaimed, and thank God I hate the enemies of my country. Amen, said Claymore, wondering at her fierce outburst. Do you not hate the Confederates? she demanded. "'No,' he answered gravely, "'but I hate the rebellion.' "'But you must hate your enemies. I do.'

Starting point is 05:05:07 "'I don't. It makes me sick to see them go down, splendid fellows, "'Americans, and to think that such troops might have stood shoulder to shoulder with our "'under the same flag against the world. I, against ten worlds, "'I hate the rebels? By heaven, no. "'Think of Thomas and Grant, and Lee, and Jackson, leading a united army against those thieving French in Mexico. Think of Sherman and Sheridan and Johnston and Stewart facing the fat-brain treachery of England. I tell you I respect the rebels. Look at that heap of dead. Look at those smashed guns. Look at me, the defeated commander,

Starting point is 05:05:52 crouching in the slaughter pen, waiting to spring a mine and die. The men who reduced me to this have my respect as soldiers and my love and admiration as Americans. But if I could blow them all to the four winds by one touch of an electric button, I'd do it and bless the chance. The girl trembled at his fervor. That is a strange creed, she murmured. Creed? The union in the name of God. That's my creed. And a section 24. Section 25 of The Maker of Moons and other short stories. This This is a Libervox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit livervox.org. Recording by Marianne. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers

Starting point is 05:06:49 In the name of the Most High, Chapter 4. The next day it rained. The rebel batteries flung a dozen shells among Keenan's ruined guns, but, receiving no answer, ceased firing. Claymore was stiff and ill, but he managed to reach the entrenchment and rest his field-glasses against a rock. The four batteries were in motion, filing along the riverbank toward the cemetery where a flag drooped above a marquee, the headquarters of some general. The Texas riflemen were moving about the scrub oak, showing themselves fearlessly, and a battalion of engineers was hard at work on the smoldering piers of the bridge. Dark masses of troops appeared on the distant hillsides as far as the eye could reach, and along the railroad track, cavalry, were riding through the rain.

Starting point is 05:07:38 All day long Claymore watched the rebel army, and at night he shared his hard tack and bacon with the girl. They spoke very little to each other, but when Claymore was looking at the rebels, her eyes never left him. Once, when he crept into his cave to swallow a drop of brandy, she hurried from rifle pit to rifle pit, evidently searching for something, but when he again reappeared she was seated listlessly against the rocky wall. her blonde head buried in her hands. And that night, too, when he was tossing in feverish slumber, she passed like a shadow through the entrenchment, over rocks, down among the dead, in the hollows, her lantern shining on distorted faces and clenched hands.

Starting point is 05:08:19 The next day the rain still fell. The engineers were steadily at work on the ruined bridge, but the river had swollen enormously, and Claymore could not see that they had progressed. He went back to his cave and dropped on the blanket. The box marked, Watson's excelsior soap at his side. The girl brought him a bit of hard tack in a cup of water. It was the last crumb left in the camp, except three biscuits which she had in her own pockets. She did not tell him so. Toward midnight he fell asleep, and when she saw that he slept, she bent over him and looked into his face, lighting a match. Then she softly raised the blanket and saw his arm encircling a box marked Watson's excelsior soap. As she stooped to touch the wires,

Starting point is 05:09:01 he stirred in his sleep and smiled, and she shrank away, covering her eyes with her hands. The next day she brought Claymore his biscuit and cup of water, for his strength was ebbing, and he could scarcely crawl to the breastworks. She ate nothing herself. The engineers were progressing a little, the sun shone on the wasted hills, and the music of a Confederate band came in Gus across the river from the cemetery. They're playing Dixie, said the girl, but Claymore only sighed and pulled the dirty blanket over his face. The next day she brought him his biscuit, there was but one left now, and he, not knowing, asked for another, and she gave him the last.

Starting point is 05:09:41 About noon he called to her, and she helped him to the breastworks, and held his field glasses. The engineers had made alarming progress, for the river was falling rapidly. They'll be over tomorrow, he said. When he was lying in his blanket once more, he beckoned her to come close beside him. "'Are you ill?' he asked. She shook her head. "'You are so white and frail. I thought you might be ill.'

Starting point is 05:10:04 "'Oh, no,' she said. "'Have you plenty to eat?' "'Plenty.' "'When are you going?' "'Going?' she faltered. "'You must go, of course,' he said querulously. "'They will be over the river tomorrow.' "'And you?' said the girl.

Starting point is 05:10:21 "'It's my business to stay here.' "'And fire the mine.' "'And fire the mine,' he repeated. "'What's the use? They will enter all the same.' "'Not all of them,' said Claymore, grimly. "'No, not all of them. "'A hundred half-starved young fellows will be mangled. "'A hundred mothers will be childless.

Starting point is 05:10:43 "'But what matter, Captain Claymore?' "'What matter?' he repeated. "'My orders are to defend this hill until hell freezes over, "'and I'm going to do it.' "'Then again he wearily asked pardon for his words. towards evening she saw he was sleeping his eyeglasses had fallen beside him on the blanket almost timidly she picked them up and held them a moment then bent her head and touched them with her lips the morning broke in a burst of splendid sunlight over the river the rebel bands were playing when claymore's hot eyes unclosed but he could not rise from his blanket the girl brought him a cup of water and held it while he drank there are no more biscuits she said i shall not need them he murmured what are the the rebels doing. They are massing to cross. The bridge is almost ready. And I'm ready, he said,

Starting point is 05:11:33 goodbye. The girl knelt beside him and took both of his hands and hers. I am not going, she said. I order you, he muttered. I refuse, she answered gently. A hectic flush touched the hollows under his eyes, and he raised his head. I order you to leave these works, he said angrily. And I refuse, she rebukes. She rebrand. repeated gently. A burst of music from the riverbank came up to them as their eyes met in mute conflict. Claymore's hand instinctively felt for the button and the wires when he gave a great cry and sat up among his rags and the girl rose slowly to her feet beside him. Traitor, he gasped, and pointed at her with shaking hands. She turned perfectly white for a moment, then a wan smile

Starting point is 05:12:21 touched her lips, and she quietly drew a revolver from her jacket. I am not a traitor, she said. I am a Confederate spy, and I cut those wires last night. You are my prisoner, Captain Claymore. The silence was broken by the noise from the bands, now massing about the further end of the completed bridge. Claymore bent silently over the ruined wires, touched the button, then, turning savagely, whipped his revolver to his head and pulled the trigger. The hammer struck an empty cylinder, and he flung it from his hand with a sob. In an instant the girl was on her knees beside him, raised him in her arms, holding his head on her shoulder. Is it so hard to surrender to a woman, she asked.

Starting point is 05:13:06 See, I give you my revolver. Here. Now shoot me down at your feet. I cut those wires. Shoot fearlessly. Ah, do you think I care for my life? Claymore raised his head a little. I surrender, he sighed, and fainted. Then came a great sound of cheering from below. The drums rattled, and the music of the bugles

Starting point is 05:13:30 swelled nearer and near, until a crash of eager feet sounded among the branches of the abattas, and a figure-clad in gray leaped upon the breastworks, and drove the steel point of a standard into the gravel. In the name of God, he shouted in a voice choked with emotion. Let him pray, muttered the dusty veterans of Long Street's infantry as they wheeled into the parallels. He's one of Jackson's men. And all these things were done in the name of the Most High. End of in the name of the most high. Section 26 of The Maker of Moons and other short stories.

Starting point is 05:14:16 This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox. the maker of moons and other short stories by robert w chambers the boy's sister the pregrantor of the prae de maries enraise enraisechreysse d'alese have e posy jane maasen mauseujae jane maasen mausee mont basseigne chapter i carlid's profession took him to tenpin corners his profession was to collect butterflies for the natural history museum of new york uncle billy who kept the constitution hotel at tenpin corners thought bug hunting was a damn poor business even for a dude and perhaps it was but that is none of your business or mine carlin lived at the constitution hotel the hotel did small honor to its name in fact it would have ruined any other constitution it was ruining garlands by degrees but a man of twenty-five doesn't notice such things

Starting point is 05:15:33 so garland swallowed his celeritis biscuits and bolted pork and beans and was very glad that he was alive he had met the male population of ten-pin corners over the bar at the constitution hotel it being a temperance state and there he had listened to their views on all that makes life worth living he tried to love his fellow countrymen when orin haye spat upon a stove and denounced woman's suffrage when sigh pettingill whose wife was obliged to sign his name for him agreed profanely when the hon hanford perkins a p a p a p a demonstrated the wickedness of catholicism and proffered vague menaces against rome garland conscientiously repressed the shudder. They are my countrymen. God bless him, he thought, smiling upon the freeborn. Uncle Billy's felonious traffic in a joyful juice did not prevent his attendance at town meeting, nor his enthusiastic voice against local option. I ain't no dumb fool, he observed to Garland. Let the women have their way. But don't you think, suggested Garland, that a liberal law would be better?

Starting point is 05:16:49 "'Nah,' replied Uncle Billy. "'But don't you think even a poor law should be observed "'until while wise legislation can find a remedy?' "'Naw!' said Uncle Billy, and closed the subject. "'Sometimes Uncle Billy would come out on the veranda "'where Garland was sitting in the sun, fussing over some captured caterpillar. "'His invariable salute was, "'More bugs? Gosh!'

Starting point is 05:17:15 "'Once he brought Garland a cockroach "'and suggested the bar-room as a new. an interesting collecting ground but garland explained that his business did not include such a gian projects and the thrifty old man was baffled what's them bugs good fur he demanded at length garland explained but uncle billy never got over the impression that garland's real business was the advertising of persian powder most of the prominent citizens of tenpin corners came to garland to engage his services as potato beetles exterminator, measuring worm destroyer, and general annihilator of mosquitoes, and to each in turn,

Starting point is 05:17:58 he carefully explained what his profession was. They were skeptical, sometimes sarcastic. One thing, however, puzzled them. He had never been known to try to sell anybody Persian powder, for, possessed with the idea that he was some

Starting point is 05:18:13 new species of drummer, they found this difficult to reconcile with their suspicions. Been a buggin. ain't you was the usual salute from the freeborn whom he met in the fields and when garland smiled and nodded the freeborn would expectorate and chuckle oh you are slick mr garland you're more n yankee than i be tenpin corners was built along both sides of the road the constitution hotel stood at one extremity of the main street the post-office at the other carland once asked why the place was called ten-pin corners and uncle bill billy told him a lie about its having been named from his uncle billy's palatial tenpin alley then why not tenpin alley asked garland cause it ain't no alley sniffed uncle billy but persisted garland why corners because there ain't no corners said uncle billy evasively and retired to his bar thirsty and irritated asks enough damn fool questions to set a man crazy he confided to the honor hans i have had drummers and drummers at the constitution but i hain't seen nothing to beat him the hon hanford perkins looked at uncle billy and spat gravely upon the stove and uncle billy spat also to put himself on an equality with the honorable hanford perkins concerning the mendacity of uncle billy there could be no question ten pin corners had been originally ten pines corners half a mile from the terminus

Starting point is 05:19:49 of the main street stood a low stone house. It was included in the paternal government of Tenpin corners, and it was from this house surrounded by ten gigantic pines, and from the four crossroads behind it, now long disused and overgrown with grass and fireweed, that the village named degenerated from ten pines to ten pin. Thither garland was wont to go in the evenings, for the pines were the tristing place of moths. Gray moth, and, with pink and black under wings brown moths with gaudy orange under wings rusty red moths flecked with silver nantene yellow moths the product of the measuring worm big fluffy moths little busy moths and moths that you and i know nothing about the sap from the pines attracted some of these creatures the lily garden in front of the stone house attracted others and the whole combination attracted garland also there lived in the stone house a boy's sister one afternoon when uncle billy's continued expectoration and sighed pettingill's profanity had driven garland from the hotel

Starting point is 05:21:02 he wandered down into a fragrant meadow butterfly net in one hand trout rot in the other and pockets stuffed with cyanide jar flybook sandwiches and wilson on hybrids the stream was narrow and deep for the first part flowing silently between level banks fragrant with mint and scented grass but here and there a small moss-grown dam choked the current into a deeper pool below into which poured musical waterfalls there were trout there yellow speckled and greedy but devious in their ways and uncertain as april mornings there were also frogs there solemnly green ones that snapped at the artificial flies and came out of the water with slim limbs outstretched and belly glistening it's like pulling up some nude dwarf when they grabbed a fly wrote garland to his chief in new york really they looked so naked and indecent otherwise garland was fond of frogs they often sat for hours watching them half afloat along the bank or squatting majestically upon some mossy throne that afternoon he had put on a scarlet ibis fly and the frogs plunged and lunged after it flopping into the pools and frightening the lurking trout until garland was obliged to substitute a yellow fly in self-defence but the trout were coy one great fellow leaped for the fly missed it leaped again to see what was wrong and finding out fled into the depths waving his square tail derisively garland walked slowly down the brook casting ahead into the stream sometimes catching his fly in the rank grass sometimes deftly defeating the larcenous manoeuvres of some fat frog and now and then landing a plump orange-bellied trout among the perfumed mint

Starting point is 05:23:03 where it flopped until a merciful tap on the nose sent its vital spark into nirvana and its crimson fleck body into garland's moss-line creel once or twice he dropped to the once or twice he dropped his rod in the grass to net some conceited butterfly that flaunted its charms before the serious-minded clover-bees but he seldom found anything worth keeping and the butterfly was left to pursue its giddy interrupted flight as he passed walking lightly on the flowering turf the big black cricket sang to him the katy did scraped for him and the grasshoppers big and little brown green and yellow hopped out of the verger before him a tiny escort of outriders it was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon when he came to the last pool before the meadow brook flow silently into the woods where slim black trout lurk under submerged rocks and mosquitoes swoop thankfully upon the wanderer on the bank of the pool sat a beautiful boy watching a cork floating with the current hello said garland you ought to be in school tip the boy looked at garland through gilded tangled curls can't you see i'm fishing he said in a whisper i see said garland but you know your sister wouldn't allow it why did you stay away from school tip the angelic eyes were lowered a moment then the boy carefully raised his pole and seeing the bait intact dropped it into the water again bill timerson biffed me said the child if willie timerson struck you you should not stay away from school he said did you er hit em back did i did you repeated garland repressing a smile

Starting point is 05:25:01 hugh why mr garland i slammed that damn mug of his tip said garland the boy hung his head and looked at the cork garland sat down beside him and lighted his pipe after a moment he said tip i thought you promised me not to swear the boy was silent did you said garland yes replied the boy sullenly well persisted garland i lied said the boy you forgot said garland quietly you don't lie tip the boy looked at him shyly then turned to his cork again tip said garland what do you think of these he opened his creel and tip looked in hell said the child softly what interrupted garland there said tip calmly i lied again lammy one in a snoot mr garland garland touched the boy lightly on the forehead you will try he said tried to conceal the despair in his voice yes cried the child fervently i will mr garland so help me i mean cross my heart after a moment he added i brought you a green worm here it is hello a smyrnitha's huh much obliged tip where did you get it sister found it on the piazza she said maybe you'd want it replied the child lifting his line again say mr garland squire perkins says you're loony what laughed garland solemn continued the child he says you was once a book agent or a drummer but you're loony now

Starting point is 05:26:56 and can't work the honorable hanford perkins tip asked garland laughing frankly yep old perkins herself to whom did he eulogize me tip what sir to whom did he say this to sister and celia turned her back on him i seen it are you loony garland was laughing but managed to say no that's what i said said tip scowling at the water and I said you'd kick the hell you'd kick the stuffins out of him if he said it much more will you mr garland I don't know said garland trying to control his mirth you mustn't say that sort of thing you know tip I know it said tip resignedly I hove an apple through his hat though last night then garland explained to tip all about the deference due to age but so pleasantly that the the child listened to every word all right he said i'll let the old man be i was planning to bust the window he continued with a trace of regret but i won't he cried in a climax of pious resignation garland watched a distant butterfly critically for a moment then picked up his rod and creel and shook the ashes from his pipe going to see sis inquired tip hum hum i may pass by that way replied garland you won't tell her that i smash bill timerson of course not said garland that's for you to tell her

Starting point is 05:28:38 i won't said the child doggedly very well said garland walking away tip watched him but he did not turn and the child's face became troubled i will tell mr garland he called across the meadow all right tip answered garland cheerily end of section twenty six section twenty seven of the maker of the moons and other short stories this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org maker of the moons and other short stories by robert w chambers the boy's sister chapter two before garland came in sight of the low stone house he caught the fragrance of the lilies the sun glittered low on the horizon long luminous shadows stretched over meadow and pasture and a thin blue haze floated high among the feathery tops of the pines about the house a white nanny-goat of tender age, tethered on the velvet turf, cried, Mea, mea, watching him with soft silly eyes. Except for the kid and a Maltese cat asleep on the porch,

Starting point is 05:30:09 there was no sign of life about the house. Carlin turned and looked out over the pastures. A spot of grayish pink was moving down there. He watched it for a moment, quietly refilling his pipe, then dropped his rod and net upon the turf, and threw himself on the ground beside them. From time to time, he raised his eyes from the pages of Wilson on hybrids to note the progress of the pink spot in the distant pasture.

Starting point is 05:30:38 Wilson was most interesting on hybrids. What Wilson had to say was this. There can be no doubt that hybrid forms of these two splendid butterflies, Nymphalus Arthumus and Nymphalus Aphesstion, exist in the localities frequented by these species. In the little village of Tenpin Corners, Professor Wormley discovered an unknown hybrid, which unfortunately he was unable to capture or describe.

Starting point is 05:31:08 This was what Wilson had to say on hybrids. This was what Garland thought. I'd give fifty dollars to capture one of those hybrids. I wonder what Celia is doing in the pasture. It may not have been a hybrid. it may have only been a variety celia is milking the alderney that's what she's doing still warmly ought to know what he's about celia has finished milking now it's the jersey's turn i should like to see a hybrid of arthamas and hello celia has finished i fancy then he laid down his book and carefully retied his necktie when celia arrived and placed her milk pail on the porch garland jumped to his feet with hypocrite critical surprise.

Starting point is 05:31:54 You were milking early, he said. Did you just come from the pasture? The girl looked at her pale and nodded. The sunlight gilded her arms, bare to the shoulder, and glittered in a fierce halo around her burnished hair. She had her brother's soft blue eyes fringed with dark lashes, but the beauty of her mouth was indescribable. Garland, as usual, offered to take the milk pail, and she, as usual, firmly declined.

Starting point is 05:32:22 firmly declined. You never let me, he said. I wanted to bring it up from the pasture, but I knew what you'd say. Then you saw me in the pasture, she asked. Uh, yes, he admitted. I saw you too, she said, and sat down in the red sunlight under the pines. Garland sat down also and made an idle pass at a white butterfly with his net. Have you caught any new butterflies today?

Starting point is 05:32:51 she asked bending to tie her shoestring no nothing new he answered she straightened up brushed a drop or two of milk from the hem of her pink skirt passed a slim hand over her crumpled apron and leaned back against a tree trunk touching her hair lightly with her fingers last night she said a giant green millermoth came around the lamp i caught him for you a luna he said thank you celia luna she repeated gravely is he rare she had picked up a few phrases from garland and used them with pretty conscientiousness no said garland not very rare but i will keep this one i caught some more too she continued a yellow miller moth celia miller moth no a moth a moth she continued serenely that had eyes on its wings saturnia aio said garland i'll repeated the girl softly is it rare it is rare here i will keep it the maltese cat lifted its voice and rubbed its arch back against the milk pail its name was julia and garland called it to him julia has a saucer of milk on the porch she is only teasing said celia but julia's voice was sustained in piercing and garland rose laughing and poured a few drops of warm fresh milk into the half-filled saucer then julia exposed the depth of her capriciousness she sniffed at the milk walked around it twice touched the saucer playfully patted a stray leaf with velvet paw and then suddenly pretending that she was in danger of instant annihilation from some impending calamity pranced into the middle of the lawn crooked her tail rushed half-way up a tree trunk slid back and finally charged on the tethered kid

Starting point is 05:34:56 with swollen tail and ears flattened carlin went back to his seat on the turf it is the way of the world he said gaily celia picked up a pine-cone and sniffed daintly at the dried apex julia was not hungry she only wanted attention he added some people are hungry for attention too and never get it said celia carlin knew what she meant it was common gossip among the freeborn who had been the freeborn who congregated about the saliva-stricken stove and uncle billy's were sat on musty barrels in the post-office store but said garland you do not want his attention now no she said indifferently i do not want it now it is too late then don't let's think about it said garland quickly think think she answered without impatience what what else can i do and you think of him he asked no none of him but of his injustice she said quietly they had talked sometimes on the subject he never knew just how it came about perhaps his interest in tip had moved her to the confidence if it could be called a confidence for all the freeborn were unbidden participants in the secret the story was commonplace enough when celia was sixteen four years back she lived with an elect uncle in the manufacturing town of highfield forty miles down the river one day a road company with more repertoire than cash stranded at bull's opera house and drifted back by highway and byway toward boston one member of the company however did not drift back

Starting point is 05:36:48 his name was clarence minster and he said he had found salvation which was true in one sense for celia's elect uncle clawed him into the fold and having cleansed his soul gave him a job to cleanse the stable at very few dollars a month celia was young and simple and pitiful she also possessed five hundred dollars of her own so clarence minster first ran away with her and then with most of her five hundred dollars. Unfortunately the marriage was legal, and the uncle implacable, so Celia took her brother tip in one hand and a thinned-out pocket-book in the other, and went to her dead parents' home, the Stonehouse at Tenpin corners. She sometimes heard of Minster, never from him. He had struck the public taste as Dick Willard, the hero of the lacrimose melodrama, honor, and his father. And his Photographs were occasionally seen in Highfield store windows. This was Celia's story, part of it.

Starting point is 05:37:56 The other part began as she began to listen to Garland and to bring him delicate winged moths that sought her chamber lamp as she bent over tips patched clothes. Something also was beginning for Garland. He felt it growing as he moved among the lilies in the dusk while Celia held the bullseye lantern and the great Sphinx moths hovered over the pinks. He felt it in the crystal clear morning when sleepy butterflies clung to the late lilacs,

Starting point is 05:38:28 and Sillia moved far afield through the raspberries and yellow buttercups. He felt it now, as he lay beside her among level shadows of gilt-tipped verger. He felt it and wondered whether it was love. Perhaps Selia could have told him. I don't know. But it was plain enough to the tethered kid, and the maltese cat to the drifting swallows and the orios in the linden-tree besides the well-sweep it was simple and self-evident to the alderney lowing at the bars to the jersey staring stolidly at celia to the robins the hedge-birds yes to the tireless crickets chirping from every tussock now whether or not it was equally plain to tip as he came trudging up the gravel walk i do not know

Starting point is 05:39:18 He said, Hello, sis, and came and kissed her, a thing he did not offer do voluntarily. I smashed Bill Timerson in the jaw, he continued, and he told the teacher, and I dazen go back. Then he glanced humbly at Garland. Celia had tears in her eyes, and she also turned instinctively to Garland. Speak to him, please, she said. I can do nothing. "'Yes, you can,' said Tip. "'You and Mr. Garland together. I've told him.'

Starting point is 05:39:53 "'Tip will go back to school tomorrow,' said Garland, "'and take his thrashing.' "'Tip looked doubtful. "'And,' continued Garland, "'as Bill Timerson is older and stronger than Tip, "'tip will continue to punch him whenever assaulted.' "'Oh, no!' pleaded Celia. "'Let him,' said Garland, smiling.

Starting point is 05:40:14 "'Tip threw his arms around his sister. his neck and kissed her again, and she held him tightly to her milk-stained apron. Mr. Garland knows, she whispered. My darling, try to be good. End of Section 27. Section 28 of The Maker of Moons and other short stories. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librovox.org The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers The Boy's Sister, Chapter 3

Starting point is 05:41:06 Carlin leaned back in his chair in the dingy barroom of the Constitution Hotel. His abstracted gaze wandered from Uncle Billy to a framed chromo on the wall, a faithful reproduction of some ketchup bottles, a boiled lobster, and a platter of uninviting oysters. The Honorable Henford Perkins was speaking. He had been speaking for half an hour. For years, like Pfeffer, he had been telling the government what to do, but his patience, unlike Pfeffers, was exhausted,

Starting point is 05:41:42 and now he had decided to let the country go to the devil. He wrote no more letters to the Highfield Banner. he sulked and an ungrateful country never even knew it at times however under the kindly stimulus of uncle billy's joyful juice he condescended to address the freeborn in the bar-room of the constitution hotel he was doing it now he had touched upon silver with the elephantine dexterity of a populist he had settled the tariff to the satisfaction of ten-pint corners he spoke of the folly of maintaining a navy and dismissed the army with a masterly sarcasm in which the phrase fuss and feathers was dwelt upon uncle billy in the popular attitude of a cherub elbows on the bar gazed at him with undisguised admiration citation sigh pettingill fearful that he was not on an equality with the drummer in the corner spat upon the stove until he was then the drummer told an unclean story which was a success but the honorable hanford perkins feeling slighted at the loss of attention told a scandalous bit of gossip which threw the drummer's story into the shade garland stirred restlessly and opened wilson on hybrids again he had been reading for a moment or two when a name caught his ear and he closed his book and raised his eyes

Starting point is 05:43:16 the hon hanford perkins was speaking and garland leaned over and touched his coat-sleeve you were speaking of a woman he said that is not the tone to use nor is this the place to discuss any woman eh said the honourable hanford with a laugh and winked at uncle billy i guess he can say what he dame pleases in my house said uncle billy expectorating the girl's not yorn that girl added sigh pettingill is a damn little then garland took sigh pettingill by the throat swung him around the room twice and kicked him headlong into the billiard table under which pettingill hastily scrambed scrambled. Now, said Garland to the Honorable Hanford Perkins. Do you want to follow Petting, Jill? If you do, just wag that bunch of whiskers on your chin again. The drummer in the corner smiled uneasily, picked up his sample case and key, and said good night, in an uncertain voice, to Garland. Uncle Billy's eyes were fixed upon Garland with a fascinated stare, and his jaw slowly dropped. The Honorable Hanford Perkins cast one amazed glance at Pettingill, another at Uncle Billy,

Starting point is 05:44:38 and waddled majestically out into the street. When Garland had picked up his book and left the hotel, Cy Pettengell crawled from beneath the billiard table and approached Uncle Billy. He expectorated and leaned on the bar, but no amount of ejected saliva could re-establish him in his own estimation. He felt this bitterly. I'll get the law on him, he said after a moist silence, and rubbed his red hand over his chin. I'll have the law on to him, he repeated, but Uncle Billy was not committal.

Starting point is 05:45:15 Give me a little bug juice, said sigh, after an uncomfortable silence, and tossed a quarter upon the bar with ostentatious carelessness. I'm dry, Billy. You be? said Uncle Billy. Well, you don't get no bug juice, nor nothing here. Hey, said Pettengill. No, said Uncle Billy scornfully, and retired to the depths of the bar.

Starting point is 05:45:40 Carlin walked slowly down the road in the twilight, switching to grass with the bamboo staff of his butterfly net, angry with himself and nauseated with the freeborn. And as he walked, he was aware of a light touch on his arm, and a lighter footstep by his side. it was tip i i was in the hallway of the hotel said tip eagerly and i saw what you done to sip enjell what were you doing there said garland sharply glad salt for sis oh i just love you mr garland and before garland could raise his eyes tip had flung himself into his arms sobbing i ain't big enough to lick all the loafers in town but i lick all their sons and sis says i am growing fast oh you do love me and sis don't you mr garland yes said garland gravely and kissed his wet face

Starting point is 05:46:41 then he took him by the hand and told him how low and mean a bar-room fight was and that he must never tell celia what had happened he tried to explain to him what was necessary to resent and what was not he spoke sympathetically as he always did and tip absorbed every word now let us forget it said garland tip your grammar is very uncertain why do you not try to speak as your sister does the boys i play with don't speak that way said tip neither does cy pettingill he speaks as you do said garland tip's hand trembled and clasped garlands tighter learn me what to say mr garland he said after a silence i will replied garland how would you like to go to school in boston when next winter can sis come to i hadn't thought you can't leave her can you tip no said tip well we'll see you need not speak of this to your sister i will discuss the question with her later said garland celia was standing under the pines as they walked up the gravel path she knew his footsteps and came up on the verandah to greet him why you were all over white she said has tipp spilled the salt on you Tip and I hugged each other to the detriment of the salt, said Garland laughing and brushing the white grains from his coat.

Starting point is 05:48:18 "'Tip, dear, have you been naughty?' asked Celia. "'No,' said Tip so promptly that even Celia laughed, and Tip retired to bed glowing with virtuous resolves. Celia went up to his room and waited until he had said his prayers. She was troubled by the fervency of his prayer for Garland, but joined. faintly in the amen and covered Tip with the white sheets. Mr. Garland says he loves you, sis, said Tip, holding up his lips to be kissed. Celia caught her breath and laid one hand on the bedpost.

Starting point is 05:48:56 Tip, she faltered. Yep, and me too, said Tip blissfully. He fell asleep soon. Celia stood and watched him in the moonlight. She was thinking of Garland. Tip was dreaming of him. when she came down garland was busy among the lilies with bull's-eye lantern and butterfly net and she took a chair on the verandah and watched him two imperial moths had fallen to his lot perfect specimens and he was happy for had not professor wormley cautiously deplored the absence of this species in the whole country one on wormley laughed garland dropping the great yellow and violet-brown moths

Starting point is 05:49:40 from his cyanide jar into her lap are they not pretty celia since garland had come celia had seen beauty through his eyes wherever his eyes saw it the shadows on the pasture the long light over the hills the masked pines red in the sunset the morning meadow sheeded with cobwebs for the first time in her innocent life she had turned to watch the color in the evening sky she had to watch the color in the evening sky she had to watch the night she had to see stooped to lift a clover drunk butterfly and examine the rainbow span of its wings she lingered at the bars listening to the music of the meadow brook along the alders so when he asked her if the moths were beautiful she smiled and saw that they were and when he asked her to hold his lantern among the lilies she prettily consented up and down they moved to and fro through the lilies and clustered pinks but the moonlight was too clear and the swift sphinx moths did not visit the garden that night he was standing still looking at the lilies and she was swinging the lantern idly about tip he said abruptly do you think the school here is good for him i know it is not she said sadly his english is alarming said garland i know it what can i do i don't know if he goes to school he will play with those children i suppose he was such a well-bred child said celia before before came here he talked when he was three i seemed to have little influence over him

Starting point is 05:51:31 you have a great deal not in that way perhaps suppose you take tip out of school celia what would become of him exclaimed celia in gentle alarm it's better than leaving him there i-i might help him a bit but it's very very kind of you but you will go away before winter will you not i don't know said garland and instinctively laid his hand on hers at the contact her cheeks flamed in the darkness celia he said i do not want to go her face was turned from him after a moment his fingers unclosed and her impasse of hand fell to her side the swift touch left him silent and awkward he tried to speak lightly again but could not finally he folded his net extinguished the lantern and said good-night long long longed his net extinguished the lantern and said good-night long after he had disappeared she stood among the lilies her hand softly clasped to her breast end of section twenty eight section twenty nine of the maker of moons and other short stories this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or the volunteer please visit librovocs.org the maker of moons and other short stories by robert w chambers the boy's sister chapter four he you sniffed uncle billy as he poured out a glass of beer for himself behind the flysoiled bar at the constitution hotel they hain't been a man round town d i say a word about the minster girl when mr garlands is sittin here mr garland's a skunk said sighed petting jill morosely he ain't

Starting point is 05:53:34 the skunk that you be, sigh pettingill," retorted Uncle Billy, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Garland came in a moment later, satchel in hand, and laid a roll of bills on the bar. Uncle Billy moistened his thumb with his tongue, counted them, and shoved them into his waistcoat pocket. "'Keeret,' he said, shifting his quid, "'What can I do for you, sir?' "'Send this satchel with my trunk,' said Garland. Goodbye, Uncle Billy. Uncle Billy emerged from the bar,

Starting point is 05:54:07 wiped his right hand on his trousers, and extended it. Good luck and many bugs to you, Mr. Garland. I'm real cut up that you're going, sir. Everything in the bug line than I have, I'll send to New York. Thank you, Uncle Billy, said Garland, and walked out of the hotel gloves in one hand, Kane in the other. Cy Pettengill sneered when he was gone,

Starting point is 05:54:31 but, receiving no sympathy from Uncle Bill, he went home and nagged at his wife. A pale woman weighed down with trouble and American pastry, until she retorted. Then he struck her. Carlin walked on past the church and schoolhouse, through the Sweetbrier Lane by the post office, and taking the path above the cemetery, followed it until he came in sight of the stone house among the pines. The Maltese cat tried it out to greet him. The tethered kids stared at him from the lawn. But Celia was invisible, and he stood hesitating under the woodbine on the porch. He had never entered Celia's house.

Starting point is 05:55:12 She had never asked them in, and he knew that she was right. He sat down under the pines and looked off over the pastures where the alderney and Jersey were feeding along the brook side. Carland had come to say goodbye. There was nothing that he could do for Tip. Celia was not able to send him to a better school, nor could she have afforded to go with him even if she should accept an offer to send tip to school what would she do there alone in that scandal nest of the freeborn so garland sat poking pine cones with his stick and crumpling his gloves in his brown hand until a tangle of sun-warmed curls rose over the fence and tip appeared smoking a cigarette when he saw garland he dropped a cigarette and looked the other way whistling come tip said garland wearily let's have it out before celia comes tip went to him at once who gave you that cigarette asked garland no one i made it tobacco no sir sweet fern and corn silk

Starting point is 05:56:20 that's not much better tip are you going to stop this the child picked up a pine cone examined it carefully and tossed it toward the maltese cat answer me said garland the child was silent very well said garland i promise cried tip i won't never smoke nothing don't go away mr garland is that your word of honor tip yes sir all right said garland smiling now you have promised me not to drink or smoke until you were twenty-one i know i can trust you and i am very happy you need not tell celia of this i-i will if you want said tip humbly no it will only work her and you have promised now what did you do in school today i punced jimmy bow i did not ask for an account of your athletic victories said garland i merely wish to know in what particular branch of the applied sciences you excelled what sir were you perfect in reading no sir in writing no in arithmetic tip stirred restlessly and looked at the maltese cat then he brighted and said a skunk got into the cellar while school was going teacher told us all about skunks and animals oh said garland an object lesson in natural history yep skunker in its real name its real name is methodus americanus what's that exclaimed garland methodist americanus mephitus americanus tip said garland gravely oh i thought that the man what named it might have had an uncle like mine tip yes sir that will do said garland seriously the child nodded contentedly and began an elaborate series of evolutions the object of which was to capture the maltese cat the cat was perfectly aware of this she allowed the boy to approach her until his hand was within an inch of her back then she ran a few feet cocked her ears swished her tail and pretended to approach her until his hand was within an inch of her back then she ran a few feet cocked her ears swished her tail and pretended to

Starting point is 05:58:32 to forget him. After a while they disappeared behind the lilac bushes at the end of the veranda, and Garland leaned back against the tree and poked at pine cones again. The sun sank lower and lower, flooding the pastures, tinging the calm meadow pools with the splendor of its fading glory. In the evening glow the turf burned like golden tapestry. The swallows twittered among the chimneys or drifted in rows high in the quiet air, and the chicken, chickens looked up with restless peeps to their roost in the lilac branches an orange light ever deepening dyed the edges of the pools where the ripples of a rising fish or a low dipping gnat disturbed the surface reflection of the placid evening sky from palest green to gray the horizon changed until like a breath creeping over a window a rosy flush stained the zenith and the sun had set with sunset celia came walking slowly over the grass that shone in the shadows with a green almost metallic she started slightly when garland moved in the shade of the pines but came to him offering her hand

Starting point is 05:59:49 then you were going she said simply yes i am going my train leaves at nine to-night how did you know she glanced at his gloves and stick and smite and smiled at his gloves and stick and smite gently. I am going, he said, because they want me in New York. Someday I will come back. A ghost of a smile touched her lips again. He moved impatiently nearer, and she looked at his troubled eyes. Shall I come back? he asked awkwardly. Yes, come. Tip will welcome you. And you? I, she said softly. I don't know. What troubles you, he said.

Starting point is 06:00:31 but she turned her head toward the sunset what troubles you he said again is-is he coming she dropped her head when asked garland in a hard voice to-night something of the horror in her face as she turned it was reflected in his own this then was the reward for her quiet struggle for life this was the reward the return of this miserable actor whom she had learned to loathe her husband whew the stench of perfume in grease paint seemed to fill his nostrils he could see the smooth fat face shaved blue as he had seen it behind the footlights in the metropolis the bull neck the professional curly head then he set his teeth and dug his stick into the turf at his feet the girl moved a step from him celia he said unsteadily have you ever thought of divorce yes they were silent again the whistle of a distant train startled garland from his reverie and he picked up his gloves and buttoned his coat it was the incoming train from new york with a frightened glance at him she held out her hand murmuring good-bye and turned toward the house but he stepped swiftly to her side and touched her arm oh the terror in the eyes that met his and the kiss as she clung to his breast in the twilight there the kiss that solved all problems that broke down barriers and made the way plain and clear the way that they should travel together through life and the life to come and so they went away into the world together and tip went with them one dimpled hand in garlands one crimpled hand in garlands one

Starting point is 06:02:26 clasping the Maltese cat close to his breast. End of Section 29. Recording by Nick Polka Section 30 of The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers.

Starting point is 06:03:02 30. The crime. Hark, oh, hark, you guilty trees, in whose gloomy galleries was the cruelest murder done that air yet eclipsed the sun. Chapter 1. Now, it happened one day in the early springtime when the sky was china blue, and filmy clouds trailed like lace across the disc of a pale son that I, Henry Stenhouse, 19 years of age, well and sound in mind and body, decided to commit a crime. The crime which I contemplated was murder. For three years past I had watched the object of my pursuit. I had peered at him at night as he lay sleeping. I had crept stealthily to his home, evening after evening, waiting for a chance to kill him. I had seen him moving about on his daily business. growing fatter and sleeker, serene, sly, self-centered, absorbed in his own affairs, yet keeping a keen,

Starting point is 06:04:06 shrewd eye upon strangers. For he mistrusted strangers. Those who passed by him, not even noticing him, he mistrusted less than he did others who came to him with smiles and outstretched hands. He never accepted anything from anybody. A strange step or the sound of a strange voice made him shy and suspicious, but he was cold and selfish, cold-blooded as a fish. In fact, he, but I had better tell you a little more about him first. He was my enemy. I determined to kill him, and perhaps he read it in my drawn face and sparkling eyes, for as I stepped toward him the first time, he turned and fled, fled straight across the Clovermead River. And although I searched the riverbanks up and down, and up and down again, I saw no more of him that day. When I went home,

Starting point is 06:04:55 excited, furious, I made passionate preparations to kill him. All night long I tossed feverishly in my tumbled bed, longing, aching for the morning. When the morning came, I stole out of the house and bent my steps towards the river, for I had reason to believe that he lived somewhere in that neighborhood. As I crept along, the early morning sun glittered on something that I clutched with nervous fingers. It was a weapon. This happened three years ago. I did not find him that one. morning, although I searched until the shadows fell over meadow and thicket. That night too found me on his trail, but the calm spring moon rose over Clovermead village, and its pale light fell on no scene of blood. So for three years I trailed him and stalked him, always awaiting the moment to strike,

Starting point is 06:05:43 praying for an opportunity to slay, but he never gave me one. He was fierce and shifty, swift as lightning when aroused, but the battle that I offered, he declined. Oh, he was deep, deep and crafty, cold-blooded as a fish. In fact, he was a fish. Mine enemy, the trout. Do you imagine that the killing of mine enemy was a crime? No, my friend, that, properly done, was what is known as sport. Improperally done, it is murder. There, the murders out. I was going to catch the trout with bait. You, dear brethren of the angle, brave fly fishermen all wet or dry, turn not from me with loathing. Hear my confession, the confession of one who is tempted,

Starting point is 06:06:28 listened, fell, and fished for a trout with a worm. Anyway, it's your own fault if you throw down this book and beat your breasts with cruel violence. I told you that my story was to be the story of a crime, and if you don't like to read about crimes, you had no business to begin this tale. There are worse crimes, too. Some people habitually fish with bait.

Starting point is 06:06:49 Some netfish, and there exist a few degraded objects in human shape, who snare trout with a wicked wire loop on the end of a sapling. Now, I don't propose to tell you about these things. I am no depraved realist. So thank you, stars, that the crime I contemplated was no worse than it was, and listen to the story of an erring brother. Mea Culp. I was only 19, a student at the State School of Engineering,

Starting point is 06:07:15 and in my senior year, what I did in engineering was barely sufficient to carry me through my examination, what I did in shooting and trout fishing might have furnished material for a sporting library. I had no particular aversion to my profession. My father before me had been a mining engineer. I was not entirely ignorant either. I knew Micahist from Malachite Nykud. But that's of no consequence now.

Starting point is 06:07:39 It is true, however, that instead of applying myself to the studies of my profession, I spent a great deal of time contributing to a New York sporting journal called The Trigger. I produced a couple of columns a week. on such subjects as German Trout versus Natives, do automatic reels pay, and experiments with the Amherst Feasant. But my article entitled The Enemies of the Spawning Beds won me recognition and I became a regular contributor to the trigger. How I ever passed my examinations is one of those mysteries that had better remain uninvestigated. I don't remember that I studied or attended many lectures. I was too busy shooting or fishing or writing for the trigger. Also, there existed a

Starting point is 06:08:20 girls boarding school a mile away. This school was run by two old maids, the Mrs. Timmons. It was the Timmins' sisters' aim in life to prevent the members of their school from coming into contact with the engineers from Clovermead. Therefore, we knew them all. The means of communications varied and ingenious for the little maidens at the boarding school were quite as enthusiastic as we were. We never went through the formality of an introduction. It was not expected. We spoke when we had the chance and thanked fortune for the chance. There was, however, one weird custom laid down by the boarding school maidens, a tradition which had existed as long as the school, and this was well understood by the clovermead engineers. It was this. No youth could expect to spoon with

Starting point is 06:09:08 any timid's maiden unless he first declared his intentions by serenading her. We were not all blessed with a high order of musical ability. I played a harmonica, but we were willing to try. I had tried several times. The results were very sweet. I don't mean in a musical way. So between the boarding school and the trigger, I found little leisure and the less leisure I had, the less I felt inclined to occupy it with engineering problems. Besides, there was this big trout to think of, mine enemy, whom I had sworn to drag from the depths of my most delicious of streams the Clovermead River. During these three years, while I persistently fished for mine enemy, and goodness knows I had never before beheld so lusty a trout, every fly known to anglers,

Starting point is 06:09:55 and many flies unknown to anybody but myself, I tried on that impassive fish, and he grew fatter and fatter. I remember well the day of the temptation. I was sitting at the foot of the big oak tree that spreads above the pool where mine enemy lurked. Wearyed with casting I had sought the shadow of the oak and had lighted a cigarette to change my luck. And, as I sat on the cool turf, I was aware of an angle worm traveling along at my feet on business of its own. Scarcely conscious of what I did, I picked up a twig and tossed a little worm over the bank. Then, in a moment, I was sorry, for I never willingly bother little things. I watched the worm sinking slowly into the crystalline depths of the pool.

Starting point is 06:10:40 When at last the little worm struck the bottom, I suppose it was both astonished and indignant, for it began to twist and turn and shoot out like a telescope over the gravel. bottom. I was sorry, as I say, and I hoped it might make its way to the bank again and bore into it. Several inquisitive minnows, half as long as the angle worm, gathered around it, staring and opening their diminutive mouths, then all at once the minnows darted away, scattering in every direction, and a huge shadow fell upon the gravel. A trout, monstrous, lazy, slowly gliding out from the dark bank to where the worm wriggled, pushing its pink head among the pebbles. Very deliberately the great fish opened its mouth, not very wide, and the little worm was gone.

Starting point is 06:11:25 For five minutes the trout lay there, and I watched him scarcely daring to breathe. After a while I cautiously reached for my rod, freed the line and leader, bent a little forward and cast over the fish. Lightly as snowflakes falling on window panes. The flies drifted into the placid surface of the pool. The trout did not stir. It was at this moment the temptation overtook me. My sinful eyes rose over the turf where the angleworm had been, and brethren, forgive me. I lusted after bait.

Starting point is 06:11:57 It will be so easy, whispered the tempter. No one will ever know. Get behind me, Satan, said I. But it's so easy, and the big trout will never touch artificial flies. Avant de Pollyon, I groan, while the sweats stood in bees on my eyebrows. So I overcame the devil and went away to avoid further contention, and Heaven rewarded me with the sight of a pretty girl playing a guitar at her window. She was so pretty that the fact alone was reward enough,

Starting point is 06:12:27 but Heaven never does things by halves, madam, and when for an instant I paused by the briar-hedge to listen, the pretty girl gave me one of those swift, provoking, side-long glances, and then, touching her guitar, looked innocently up into the sky, and this is what she sang. young am I and yet unskilled how to make a lover yield how to keep and how to gain when to love when to fain take me take me some of you while i yet am young and true he that has me first is blessed for i may deceive the rest and the guitar went strum, tum-tum, strum, tum-tum, tinkle, strum, tum. The little innocent thing, I thought, and looked at her through the hedge.

Starting point is 06:13:13 She was not so very young, she might have been my own age. She was sitting in one of the windows of the dormitory, which belonged to the Mrs. Timmons select boarding school for young ladies. Evidently, the Mrs. Timmons were not in the immediate neighborhood. Dear little innocent thing, I repeated to myself. I moved slightly, she looked at me with that dreamy, confine, look that stirs the pulses of some people. I am one of those people. She is lonely, said I to myself. It is the duty, nay the precious privilege of the happy to sympathize with the lonely.

Starting point is 06:13:46 There was a bud of sweet briar beside my cheek. I picked it, sniffed it pensively, and looked at the girl in the window. She looked at me, glanced down at her guitar, thumbed a little, sighed a little, and ate a bonbon. Ah, the sigh, gentle, troubled. irresistible, she, thought I to myself, shall be my goddess. This humble dormitory shall be my temple, this window, my shrine. Hither will I come to worship and bring burnt offerings, almonds and bonbons. This village will not be so dull after all, I thought to myself. What time, said I, speaking very gently, for I did not wish to disturb the Mrs. Timmons with my rude voice. What time, mademoiselle, would it be advisable for an enamored lover to serenade the

Starting point is 06:14:38 delicious object of his adoration? "'We retire at half-past nine, fair, sir,' said the maiden innocently. "'I knew I was not mistaken. The poor child was lonely.' "'Heavons,' said I, driven to retire at half-past nine, are the Mrs. Timmons fierce? They are deaf, said the maiden, with a childlike smile. Ah, unhappy ladies. This is a fine old building, a noble facade. Are you fond of architecture? My window is the one I am sitting in, said the maid with simple confidence. I could let down a string in case you had matters of grave import or state dispatches to communicate. Ahem, said I. Have you a string there now?

Starting point is 06:15:28 yes fair sir so i slid through the hedge and stood under her window holding up my creel i have said i a few small brook trout here nothing to boast of but if you would accept indeed you are too kind they may vary the monotony of prunes in weak tea for supper fair sir i see you have known other boarding-school maidens foe di janty m i protested which is not pronounced the way we pronounce french here she said let me see the trout i opened the creel i will accept said the girl graciously and lit down a string to which i fastened my creel you are very daring how do you know that the whole school are not watching because said i this is the afternoon when the whole school takes a solemn ramble into the country i am not rambling she said all do not ramble on days of recreation i replied significantly. You know a great deal about this boarding school, fair, sir. I suppose you also know I am confined to my room as a disciplinary precaution. Monstrous, I cried, suppressing my satisfaction. I only made a cider cocktail, she said. Monstrous, I repeated. Cider cocktails are no good. By this time she had lowered the creel to me again and I slung it on my shoulders and picked up my rod from the lawn. I will bring offerings, I said. Do you like Bon Bonn's gentle maiden?

Starting point is 06:17:00 Yes, and pickles, she said gravely. And music? Sometimes, not too classical. I will serenade you, I cried enthusiastically. You say the Mrs. Timmons are deaf? Shame on you. You know they are. What do you play? I am not sure that I will accept a serenade. The banjo and the harmonica. Not both. at once. I play the harmonica best, but I can't sing to it at the same time, you know. Shall I come? Yes. Are you fond of pickled peaches? I can let some down to you. I was on the point of accepting a pickled peach. I would have accepted a pickled turnip from her when out of the tail of my eye I saw the tops of multi-colored sunshades appearing above the crest of the hill and I knew that

Starting point is 06:17:49 the Mrs. Timmons were returning with their flock. You must go, she whispered hurriedly, Go quickly. Goodbye, good night, I said. You are the loveliest, sweetest. Quick, what? Angel, divine, glorious, um, Oh, Hassan, what? And I love you.

Starting point is 06:18:08 You mustn't say that, must you? Oh, hurry and say it again if you must. Oh, I must, I cried, heedless of all the timids is on earth. I really must. My name is May Thorne. Go quickly now. Mine is Harry Stenhouse. The deuce.

Starting point is 06:18:25 They're at the gate. They were. Scarcely had I slipped around the building before I heard the chatter and laughter of girls and the patter of feet on the gravel walk. I had heard it before under similar circumstances. But there was a back gate and I went. Now see how virtue is its own reward. I had resisted the devil and he gave me another chance. End of Section 30. Section 31 of the maker of moons and other short stories. This is a Libravox recording. all lebravox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit lebravox dot org the maker of moons and other short stories by robert w chambers section thirty one the crime chapter two yes said i to myself remembering how i had piously ascribed my reward to heaven yes i was mistaken i should have said the devil madam never does things by halves i looked back at the dormitory door one of the mrs timmins was snipping roses from the porch trellis to eke out the meagre evening meal i thought poor little maid poor little may only nanny goats eat roses and an empty stomach rejoiceth not in perfumes This sounded to me like an Eastern proverb. It smacked well, and I repeated it to myself luxuriously.

Starting point is 06:19:58 Someday, thought I, when I am famous and people begin to write books to prove that I'm not, I'll marry, May, if I like her as well as I do now, and she likes me, I forgotten that part. There is something about this little maid, I mused, that touches my better nature. too subtle to analyze. And anyway, I'm not good at that sort of analysis. She is fond of eating trout. I'm fond of catching them. Clearly, we were designed for each other, if only for an hour or so. By this time I had reached my own gate and stood pensively regarding a pair of tiny chipping birds that were absorbed in the excitement of a violent spring courtship.

Starting point is 06:20:39 Certainly, said I to myself, I am infatuated, and I'm proud of it. Any man would be, any man whose mind was not all mouse-colored and neutral. In the mellow evening light, the pools of rainwater glimmered like sheets of gold. Two swallow sat on a telegraph wire twittering to each other of the coming summer, two migrating blue jays stopped in the apple tree by the porch to chatter scandal, a pair of belated white butterflies fluttered sleepily about the lower branches of the lilac bushes. They're probably married also, thought I, and now they're going home to bed. Everything that runs or flies or hops seems to be mated, except me.

Starting point is 06:21:18 True, I don't fly, unless from the Mrs. Timmins. I opened my creel and looked moodily into it. Fishing, after all, was cold comfort compared to stealing an interview with the winsome maid who ate bonbons to guitar accompaniment. May, said I to myself softly. May. Might. May makes might, and might makes right.

Starting point is 06:21:43 I'll not go bothering my conscience with every little incident that comes up. I had some consideration for my conscience. I knew how tired it was. The rainwater and the long road ruts glimmered with a deeper orange light. A bat fluttered around the darkening foliage of the maples. A cricket creaked from the dorsal. The bat, thought I, is looking for a little lady bat. The cricket is serenading.

Starting point is 06:22:09 I think that I'll follow their example. I wish I could play on my harmonica and sing at the same time. About 10 o'clock that night, the moon being well up, I went out onto the porch and looked at it until I felt sufficiently sentimental to sit on the damn grass under May's window and make music as I understood it. So I took my banjo under my arm, dropped my harmonica into my coat pocket and tiptoed off down the road as many a better man had done before me, and would continue to do as long as that morning school existed.

Starting point is 06:22:43 Oh, delicious night in early spring. Lured by the balm and the soft night winds, all the little field creatures had come out of their holes in meadow and pasture, an orchid and thicket, and were scraping away on monotonous shrill melodies accentuated by the treble of hundreds of tree-toads. In every shadowy orchid, Kiti Dids performed countless encores to the base, Bravo, of the great bullfrogs along the milk brook's reedy banks. All living things did their part to celebrate the coming summer. Even a distant skunk added his might to the spicy night.

Starting point is 06:23:18 Personally, I prefer the roadside lilacs, but it's all a matter of taste, and George Vorth liked his oysters overripe. If these bullfrogs, thought I, keep up their sonorous tom-toms, it will ruin my serenade. I know it from experience. By this time, I had reached a little bit of my sonaract. the dormitory hedge. A brassy cornet would be lost in this hubbub, I mused bitterly, looking up at the third window on the second floor. I thumbed the bass string of my banjo doubtfully, paused,

Starting point is 06:23:53 cleared my throat, included frogs, toads, kiddieds, and crickets, and one general and comprehensive anathema, and sang this rehashed song. Ye little loves that round her weight, to bring me tidings of my fate, as may a her pillow lies, ah, gently whisper, Harry dies. If this will not her pity move, and the proud fair disdains to love, smile and say it's all a lie, and haughty Henry scorns to die. Bother, take it, I muttered. I shouldn't have sung that last verse. It may offend her. That's the trouble about these old songs. You can never tell what you're singing until you've put your foot in it. This mixed metaphor was probably due to the confusion in my mind, for what with the frogs

Starting point is 06:24:42 and a lurking fear of the Mrs. Timmins, I was not as cool as I might have been. While I was singing, two or three windows were softly raised, and now more were being raised and I caught glimpses of shadowy white draped figures, leaning from sills or dodging behind curtains, and now her window opened softly. I saw a shape behind the curtains and the sweet notes of a guitar came throbbing out in the into the night. Miss Thorn, I whispered, Ask those young ladies to go in, please.

Starting point is 06:25:13 They always come out and bother. Some of them took the hint. I did not care for the rest, for time was precious, and I feared the timids. So I told Miss Thorne in a hollow, passionate whisper, that it was out of the question

Starting point is 06:25:27 for me to try to live without her, and a few other facts calculated to melt solid rocks into tears. But when I desired to, be informed concerning her constancy, she interrupted me. What was that last verse you sang? She asked. Oh, that was only one of those old songs.

Starting point is 06:25:47 You know, I didn't intend. One of those old songs. Very well. Listen to this one, then, and be assured of my constancy. The time is to come is not. How then can it be mine? The present moment's all my lot, and that as fast as it got, Harry is only thine.

Starting point is 06:26:08 Then talk not of inconstancy. False hearts and broken vows. If I, by miracle can be, this live long minute true to thee, it's all that heaven allows. It was a pretty revenge for my parrot-like repetition of a verse that was out of place. But when, from a neighboring window, another voice cried, Brava, Mae, serves him right. I was annoyed and protested in hoarse whispers.

Starting point is 06:26:35 then all those little maize began to make fun of me i thought i could distinguish maize silvery mocking laughter and hurt and angry i shook the dew off the lawn from my shoes and went away nursing my wrath and my hurt pride that's what one gets i mused that's what a man gets by meddling with things that don't concern him i was an ass to make eyes at her i was doubly an ass to think that she would care for good music and i was a triple ass to sing that idiotic old song it was too cock-shore and dependent, well, don't if you don't want to sort of song. And women don't like that. Women are all alike. It is only circumstances that change them. I wish I had sense enough to let them alone. The confounded song hurt her vanity. That's what's the matter. I sat down on a flat rock by the roadside and blew a dismal strain from the harmonica. It comforted me a little, so I played Sir Daniel O'Donnell and Casey's Lament. The weird strains of the latter wrung howls from a dog in a stable nearby. So I changed to a pleasant air

Starting point is 06:27:43 to save his feelings. But my heart was heavy. I eyed the moon furtively and mooped. Those feather-headed girls always come and listen every time a fellow tries to do a little wooing on his own account, I muttered. Barclay had the same experience, so did Kendall and Gordon. I'll be hanged if I repeat this fiasco. It's cursedly silly anyway. And I don't care whether it's customary or traditional, I'll not play circus for any woman on earth. I wiped my harmonica on my handkerchief and played Branigan's barracks in a minor key. The dog in the stable howled intermittently. I could see the dark mass of the dormitory out of the corner of my eye.

Starting point is 06:28:24 A candle flickered behind one of the windows, I could not tell which from where I was sitting. And, as I eyed at Askins, tooting resignedly the while, I saw somebody appear at the great gate, open it, and move swiftly out and up the moonlit road toward me. Some of those girls have told a Timmins, and she's coming to do me, I thought. I don't care. Miss Thorne made me ridiculous, and I'll not see her again, and I'm on the public highway. Let the Mrs. Timmons advance. So I struck up a lively quick step on my harmonica and blinked innocently at the moon.

Starting point is 06:29:00 The figure was close to me now, I saw it, but I tutled anyway regardless. Mr. Stenhouse. I turned slowly. Oh, I know it is terribly imprudent, and if I'm caught I'll be sent home, but I heard your homonica, oh, such dismal strains, and I thought if only I could see you for a second to tell you that it was not I that laughed, for I think your serenade was perfectly charming. There.

Starting point is 06:29:30 We were standing face to face in the moonlight. At last, I said, I was a fool to sing that song. I'm sorry, Miss Thorn. Oh, it was not that song as much as it was that you said, you gave me to understand, quite frankly, that you had been to the school before. You said the girls always bothered. Did I say that?

Starting point is 06:29:53 Yes, it was most humiliating for me. Oh, I'm a perfect idiot, I admitted. She looked down at her son. slippers. They had been hurriedly and carelessly tied, and I noticed it annulled to repair the oversight. I was in such haste, she said. Is it true that you have serenaded the dormitory before? Not the dormitory. You know what I mean, have you? All the fellows do, I said vaguely. She tapped her foot on the gravel. Those strings are sufficiently tied, she said. Tell me whom you serenated. i can't do that miss thorne why tell me when it was when oh last year before i ever imagined such a girl as you existed it's a silly custom anyway

Starting point is 06:30:46 it isn't it's charming when the man has any tact it's the tradition of the school that no girl so spoon with a man who hasn't serenaded her and i do not expect to break the traditions of my school only the rules miss thorne only the rules miss thorne only the the rules and a heart or two or two. Faith, sir, she said maliciously. Did you think you were the only one? Yes, said I. I did. And you tell me deliberately that you had syvenated other girls there before I came? I don't know how many, perhaps a dozen, 20, 50, the whole school?

Starting point is 06:31:25 What? I cried, Bill Wildard. Oh, I don't care, she said. I only wish to show you what men are. and what their selfishness requires of women, to sacrifice everything while they sacrifice nothing. And you don't care, I asked? No, Mr. Stenhouse. Then why did you risk everything to come and tell me? What?

Starting point is 06:31:47 What? She stammered. Miss Thorn, said I very gravely. Your school is noted for its escapades. It is known in the village not as the Mrs. Timmons Select Boarding School for Young Ladies, but as the devil's own. We engineer students are a reckless lot. Also, we are, to put it plainly, a godless crew, but this, this is somehow different.

Starting point is 06:32:09 I am beginning to believe that our thoughtless folly, yours and mine, may leave one of us miserable for life. Me? Who knows? I can only speak for myself. I have changed already, yes, in these last few moments that we stood here face to face? What do you mean, she said mockingly? I mean that in another minute I shall love you.

Starting point is 06:32:32 another second. Are you serious? she demanded incredulously. Then, oh, I thought you jolly and clever, and you proved to be soft and silly. Master Harry, you bore me. Do I? I answered angrily. Well, I'll never do it again, and I was a fool to believe you would understand anything but chocolate creams and dormitory flirting. Not only soft and silly but a bore, she said. Good night. No, You need not walk to the gate with me. I never wish to set eyes on you again. End section 31. Section 32 of The Maker of Moons and Other Short Stories.

Starting point is 06:33:22 This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. The Maker of Moons and other short stories by Robert W. Chambers. Section 32 The Crime Chapter 3 On the first day of June

Starting point is 06:33:45 I passed my final examinations at the great engineering school at Clovermead and was then ready to let myself loose on the mining regions of a deluded world The commencement exercises bored me I went fishing most of the time or else stayed in my rooms writing dry fly casting as a fine art for the trigger

Starting point is 06:34:04 In the long fragrant evenings I took lonely walks by the river were sat under the oak playing minor airs on my harmonica. At the end of the first week in June, the commencement exercises were over. The visiting hordes from New York and Boston had flitted away to Newport of Bar Harbor. The government officers went back to Washington and West Point, and the little village of Clovermead lay in the sunshine, white, sweet-scented, deserted. The Mrs. Timmons select boarding school for young ladies had its commencement,

Starting point is 06:34:37 a rainbow affair, and dissolved, leaving, as residue, an empty schoolhouse and a dormitory dedicated to silence. I didn't go to their commencement, not because I was not invited, for most of the fellows went anyway, no, since my last serenade I had shunned the school and all its works. It was true that I lingered in the village of Clovermead after my fellow students had departed, not as I frequently explained to myself to catch a last glimpse of Miss Thorn, but to catch that veteran trout in the Clovermead River. I shall never see Miss Thorn again, I said to myself, and I'm glad of it. So on the day of her commencement I went fishing, very far off and I passed a miserable day.

Starting point is 06:35:25 It rained among other things. The next morning the sun shone in at my window, and I looked out into the village with a strange weight of my heart. i did not feel hungry but went to breakfast determined to let nothing disturb me or my appetite as they touched the sugar tongs to the sugar a faint whistle came on the june wind from the distant railroad station there go the young ladies from the boarding school said my landlady do take one of those shared eggs mr stenhouse thank you said i with a queer sensation in my throat may has gone i was thinking after a while i was thinking after a while i was I said aloud, what of it? I beg your pardon, said my landlady, smiling. I beg yours, it was nothing. I was only thinking that I was alone in the village. I hope you will stay, she said, fingering the black-edged handkerchief in her lap. You are very good, I replied. I shall stay until I catch that big trout in the river.

Starting point is 06:36:27 Then poor luck to you, smiled the kindly old lady. What time will you have dinner, Mr. Stenhouse? i went back to my room and sat down by the window a flowering branch of late apple blossoms scraped across the sash as i threw it open and leaned out for a long while i listened to the droning of bees among the half-open buds thinking that the warmth had fled from the sunshine and the scent was gone from meed and sedge and why i repeated to myself again and again until a sullen anger seized me and i tramped up and down my room my hands buried in the canvas pockets of my shooting coat now said i to myself this is damn foolishness i'll just go and try for that trout and i'll catch em too i added gritting my teeth to dull the pain in my heart i'll catch him by fair means or foul yes by jingo i'll use a worm no i felt no horror for the deed i was was about to commit, all that was basin depraved in my nature had risen with my better feelings to combat a depression, a sorrow that was so sudden, so deep, that I hardly understood it. Under such circumstances, the truly good come out strong. In novels, others do something wrong

Starting point is 06:37:45 to occupy their minds. Wallowing dulls the capability of suffering, for a time. It is much practice by weak and strong, contemporary fiction to the contrary. So what happened one day in early June, when the sky was china blue and filmy clouds trailed like lace across the disc of a pale sun that I, Henry Stenhouse, well and sound in mind and body, decided to commit a crime. I started down the road, swinging my creel over my shoulder and whistling, buoyed up by that false exhilaration which always took possession of me when I felt myself on good with the devil. In my pocket nestled my luncheon, a small flask of Bordeaux, flybook, harmonica, reel, and a tin-bate box. Imagine what it costs me to write this. Well, it's written,

Starting point is 06:38:38 and on I went whistling Sir Daniel O'Donnell as though I had not a care in the world, and love was but an old wife's tale. Yet whistle as I would, I could not close my eyes to the caustic criticism of the sunny world on my solitary condition. Robins hopped about the pastures and pears, bluebirds flew from sapling to fence in pairs, yellow butterflies whirled over the clover in dozens and dozens of pears, and the very trees, the silver birches, the maples and elms all seemed to grow in pairs. Two by two I counted oak and beach nestling in each other's shadows. Two by two the twinkling silver aspens seemed to winked.

Starting point is 06:39:20 at me with every leaf. I alone was alone. Because, said I to myself, I've got brains. But the boast fell only on the idle, unbelieving ears of the corn, too young to understand or sympathize. A great tenderness was in my heart, but I crushed it out and turned into the fields, treading my way through rustling corn where June breezes lingered, whispering. When I struck the hazel patch, I felt better, and I whistled Sir Daniel O'Donnell again. A wood-thrush, striving to imitate me, produced an unconscious masterpiece. A catbird mewed, unceasingly from the deeper growth. Both had mates. I took the hidden path through the beech woods until I came to a big pine. Here, following a trail known to myself, I entered the denser woods, crossed the two spring brooks

Starting point is 06:40:16 that feed the river, and after a few minutes rapid walking, came to the oak which spreads above the limpid silvery pool, the abode of mine enemy. As long as I have sunk to the level of a pot hunter, said I, treading softly over the moss, I might as well do the thing thoroughly. Very cautiously I produced an angleworm from my box, baited my hook, cast the infernal machine into the pool and then, placing my rod on the bank, put a flat stone on the butt and sat down to smoke. When I had finished my cigarette, I lay down, stretching out in the moss under the oak tree. And as I sprawled on my back, looking skyward, I was aware of a pair of stockings. Black stockings, hanging from the limb directly over my head.

Starting point is 06:41:10 Astonished and indignant, I lay perfectly still, staring at the stockings. They had been wet, but now were rapidly drying, swinging gently in the warm June wind. This is pleasant, I thought. Some credulous country wench has taken my pool for a footbath. I'll not put up with it, by Jingo. Have fishermen no rights? Is this a picnic ground? Is that river a resort for barefooted, giggling girls? If there were any people splashing and paddling about among the stones down the river, I knew that every trout within range would be paralyzed with fright. I sat up and tried to see through the foliage, which bordered the shallow river, where it curved into the woods. They're down there, I muttered, and I bet they've done the business for every trout between here and the falls, idiots. I looked up at the stockings.

Starting point is 06:42:02 They were certainly silk, I could see that. The sun bronzed the pointed toes now almost dry. And while I looked there came a faint sound of splashing close by, just where the river narrows to curve into the woods. Something bright was glistening down there between the branches, something white that moved slowly up the stream nearer and nearer, now plainly in view through the leaves. It was a young woman in a light summer gown with a big straw hat on her head, and she was slowly and deliberately waiting through the shallow water toward my pool. She seemed to be enjoying it, the swift water rippled around her ankles, dashing her skirts with spray, as she lifted her wet pink feet carefully over the sharp rocks and deeper channels. Her skirt gathered naively in both hands,

Starting point is 06:42:50 flooded perhaps a trifle higher than it might have done under other circumstances. It was a pretty innocent picture, but it was out of place in my trout pool, and I stood up determined to expostulate. After a second I sat down again, somewhat suddenly. The black stockings waved triumphantly above my head. I looked at them, bewildered, utterly upset. The young lady in the was Miss Thorne. Before I could decide what to do, she came in sight around the trees, stepping daintily over the sandy shallows. I dared not move. She did not look up. What the mischief shall I do, I thought, keeping very still, so that no movement should attract her eyes to the oak on the bank above. I could not retreat and leave my rod. I dared not

Starting point is 06:43:37 keep to the pool to recover it. Besides, I didn't want to go away. She had sat down on a sunny rock, just below me and was stirring the sandy bottom with her little toes. It was, as I said, a pretty picture, sweet and innocent, but utterly fatal to my peace of mind. I wondered what she'd do next, and lay silent, scarcely breathing. If she turns back, I thought, I'll get up and go. I'm no eavesdropper, and I'll go, only I hope she won't give me the chance. She had drawn a book from the folds of her skirt, and as I lay there without sound or motion she began to read, repeating aloud to herself the passages that pleased her. I am the magic waterfall,

Starting point is 06:44:21 whose waters leap from fathomless and living springs, far in the mist-hung silence of the past. She paused, turning the leaves with languid capriciousness, then I fill the woods with songs, the trees, through whose twigs flow prophecies, I deck with vestments green, And again she read, The shower has freshened the song of the bird

Starting point is 06:44:47 And butted the bushes, And gilded the maple and tasseled the linden and willow, staining with green the forest-fringed path. She sat silent, idly touching the fluttering pages. Then she raised her head, singing softly odd bits of songs to herself, to the thrushes around her. A great-belted kingfisher flashed past, A blur of blue and white against the trees.

Starting point is 06:45:14 His loud harsh rattle startled her for an instant. And as she turned to watch his flight along the winding stream, I rose and slipped noiselessly into the forest. Before he had taken a dozen steps, however, I remembered my rod and halted irresolutely. Looking back through the thicket fringe, I saw that she had turned my way again, and it was out of the question to recover it without being seen. If she only had her stockings on, I sighed. Should I wait, taking discreet observations occasionally?

Starting point is 06:45:46 Should I go and let the rod take care of itself? Suppose the big trout should seize a hold and drag it into the river. Suppose Miss Thon should step on the barbed hook with her bare little feet. At the thought, I turned hastily back in my own tracks, halted again, started on, wavered, took one irresolute step and stopped. I could see her now quite plainly, without being seen. She had tossed her book up on the moss and was picking her way along the ascending bank, holding on to the branch and root.

Starting point is 06:46:18 She's coming for her stockings, that's what she's doing, I thought. Until she had safely passed the pool where the hook lay, I kept my eyes on her. After that, I waited until I saw her reach up the oak limb for the stockings, and then I looked the other way. I gave her ten minutes to complete her toilet, holding my wife, in my hand. Once she sang pensively that puzzling but pathetic old ballad. Mother, may I go out to swim? Miss, my darling daughter, hang your hose on a hickory limb, but don't go near the water. The ten minutes were up at last. Now said I to myself,

Starting point is 06:46:56 shall I look? No, yes, no indeed, I don't know. I'll just see whether I turned around. She had left the shelter of the oak and was hurrying down the bank, toward my rod with every appearance of excitement. I'll bet there is a fish on it, said I to myself. By jingo there is, and it's bending and tonguing as if a porpoise had the line. It'll be into the river in a moment. There, it's gone, but I was mistaken for Miss Thorne grasped it just as it slid over the edge of the bank. She'll break it.

Starting point is 06:47:29 I'll bet it's my big fish. There, she's pulling the fish out. She's trying to drag the fish up. I can't stand this. It's no use. I've got to go. When she saw me, hastening down the slope, she did not cry out. Neither did she drop the rod, but her blue eyes grew very large and round. And as I hurried up, she gave one last convulsive tug and hauled up over and onto the bank an enormous trout, flapping and bouncing among the leaves. In a second I had seized the fish. It took all the strength of my arm to hold him, and the rest was soon over. There he,

Starting point is 06:48:05 he lay, a monarch among trout, glistening dappled, crimson flecked. I walked down to the water's edge, washed my hands mechanically, and slowly climbed back again. I didn't know it was your rod, she said. I only saw a big fish on it and I pulled it out. I thought you had left Clover Mead, I stammered. I thought you had also, she said. All the others have gone. Tomorrow I go. My guardian is coming. "'Tomorrow?' "'Yes, it ate a cock in the morning.

Starting point is 06:48:39 "'There was an awkward pause. "'I glanced Askin sat the fish, "'already ashamed of my work, "'dreading to know what she thought of a man "'who fished with bait. "'It is a large trout,' she said timidly. "'It is a wonder that I didn't break your rod in line. "'You see, I never before caught a trout.'

Starting point is 06:48:59 "'And you would not, "'you don't think less of a man "'because he fishes with peaches with bait, I asked, red with shame? I, why, no. What else would you use? Flies, I said desperately. You know it.

Starting point is 06:49:17 Flies, can you catch enough? I mean artificial flies, I said. You don't understand. You can't conceive the depth of depravity that leads a man to catch a trout as I've caught this, can you? It's simple murder. But, said Miss Thorne with a puzzled glance at the fish, I thought that I caught him.

Starting point is 06:49:37 I bated the hook, I faltered. Then, she said, it's a clear case of collusion, and we're both responsible. We looked at each other for an instant. She sighed almost imperceptibly. I am very sorry for what I said that night, I began. You can't think how it has troubled me ever since.

Starting point is 06:49:59 I have suffered a great deal. and um um jucibly miserable miss thorn i forgive you she said sweetly why did you not ask me before because said i being an idiot i didn't dare it may be very unhappy she said i should not have spoken so oh you were quite right i cried it was my fault entirely no indeed it was really and to think i should have spoken so as to think i should have spoken so after the trout you gave me and the serenade. If the music had been as good as the trout, it was, it was charming, and you said some things that first afternoon under my window. I meant them, I mean them now a thousandfold.

Starting point is 06:50:46 The crimson stained her cheeks. She half turned toward the river. I think, she said, that I am late for luncheon. Very humbly I produced my flask of Bordeaux, my cold chicken, bread, and hot-house pears. She looked at them her head on one side. It's not very much, I ventured, for two. I think it will do, she said reflectively.

Starting point is 06:51:12 There are some cresses by the brook. I am fond of cresses. Have you pepper and salt? I rummaged in my pockets, produced the harmonica, a package of tobacco, a sparreal, a knife, a steel hunting watch, a cigarette case, a box of dry flies, a matchbox, a box of leaders, and finally a neat little parcel of pepper and salt.

Starting point is 06:51:33 She watched me with perfect gravity. If you please, she said, you may go and play your harmonica under that oak tree while I arrange the table, will you? Can't I help you, I murmured, giddy with happiness? No, go and play Sir Daniel O'Donnell. I watched her, tweeting fitfully the while, and presently she called to me that luncheon was ready. and asked me to lend her my handkerchief to dry her hands. We drank and turned from the flask,

Starting point is 06:52:05 gravely begging pardon for the goussin-fisson. But the luncheon? There never was such a luncheon served in the palaces of Stambou. I ate ambrosia, some name a chicken, and I drank nectar. Foolish people would have called it Bordeaux, and I sat opposite to and looked in the blue eyes of the sweetest maid in the world. And so we sat and chatted on,

Starting point is 06:52:28 I knowing little of what she said save that it was her voice. Always her voice in my ears and every word was a melody. The swift droop of the long lashes on the pure curved cheeks, the gentle caress in every movement, the light glinting on tawny hair, on stray curling strands blown across our eyes, these I remember. The shadows came and laid their long shapes on the sands of the shore.

Starting point is 06:52:53 The trees darkened where the masked foliage swept in one unbroken sheet above the moss, the red west blazed. Once a fish splashed among the weeds, a wood duck steered fearlessly past, peering and turning, sousing its gorgeous neck in the shallow stream. At last she sprang up, touching her hair with light, swift fingers, and shaking her skirts full breath. I must go.

Starting point is 06:53:20 So soon? Yes, shall I say goodbye now for tomorrow? Say it. good-bye then is that all good-bye nothing more oh what what else she murmured i can say no more i can said i you must not do you mean it yes i love you then we will go back together she said innocently and came up close to me laying her white hands in mine ah said i as we entered the road by the dormitory the trout is a noble one but may it was a little one but may it was a very well as we entered the road by the dormitory the trout is a noble one but may it It was murder that was done on clovermeadwater. And theft, she said with a faint smile. Where is my heart, if you please?

Starting point is 06:54:06 And we looked long, smiling into each other's eyes. It all happened years ago. I have never touched Bate to Hook since, but I confess that I do still at times play Sir Daniel O'Donnell on the harmonica. May permits it, especially when the children beg me. And as they are teasing me now, I shall probably play it tonight. End of Section 32.

Starting point is 06:54:39 Section 33 of The Maker of Moons and Other Stories. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Adrian Stroh to Turks and Caicos Islands. The Maker of Moons and Other Stories by Robert W. Chambers. Section 33, A Pleasant Evening. As I stepped upon the platform of a Broadway cable car at 42nd Street,

Starting point is 06:55:14 somebody said, Hello, Hilton, Jamison's looking for you. Hello, Curtis, I replied. What does Jamison want? He wants to know what you've been doing all the week, said Curtis, hanging desperately to the railing as the car lurched forward. He says, you seem to think that the Manhattan Illustrated Weekly was created for the sole purpose of providing salary and vacations for you.

Starting point is 06:55:39 The shifty old Tomcat, I said indignantly. He knows well enough where I've been, vacation. Does he think the state camp in June is a snap? Oh, said Curtis, you've been to Peekskill. I should say so, I replied my Roth rising as I thought of my assignment. Hot? inquired Curtis, dreamily. "'One hundred and three in the shade,' I answered. Jamison wanted three full pages and three half pages, all for process work,

Starting point is 06:56:11 and a lot of line drawings into the bargain. I could have faked them. I wish I had. I was full enough to hustle and break my neck to get some honest drawings, and that's the thanks I get. Did you have a camera?' "'No. I will next time.

Starting point is 06:56:27 I'll waste no more conscientious work on Jamison,' I said soulfully. It doesn't pay, said Curtis. When I have military work assigned me, I don't do the dashing sketch artist act. You bet. I go to my studio, light my pipe, pull out a lot of old illustrated London news, select several suitable battle scenes by Kate and Woodville, and use them too. The car shot around the neck breaking curve at 14th Street. Yes, continued Curtis as the car stopped in front of the Morton House for a moment, then plight. plunged forward again amid furious clanging of gongs.

Starting point is 06:57:05 It doesn't pay to do decent work for the fat-headed men who run the Manhattan Illustrated. They don't appreciate it. I think the public does, I said. But I'm sure Jamison doesn't. It would serve him right up to did what most of you fellows do, take a lot of Kate and Woodville's in Thalstrip's drawings, change the uniforms, chic, a figure or two, and turn in a drawing labelled From Life.

Starting point is 06:57:30 I'm sick of this sort of thing. anyway. Almost every day this week I've been chasing myself over that tropical camp or galloping in the wake of those batteries. I've got a full page of the camp by moonlight, full pages of artillery drill and light battery in action, and a dozen smaller drawings that cost me more groans and perspiration than Jamison ever knew in all his lymphatic life. Jamison's got wheels, said Curtis, more wheels than there are bicycles in Harlem. He wants you to do a full page by Saturday. A what? I exclaimed, aghast. Yes, he does. He was going to send Jim Crawford, but Jim expects to go to California for the winter fair, and you've got to do it.

Starting point is 06:58:13 What is it? I demanded savagely. The animals in Central Park, chuckled Curtis. I was furious. The animals! Indeed! I'd show Jamison that I was entitled to some consideration. This was Thursday. That gave me a day and a half to finish a full-page drawing for the paper, and after I work at the state camp, I felt that I was entitled to a little rest. Anyway, I objected to the subject. I intended to tell Jamison so. I intended to tell him firmly. However, many of the things that we often intended to tell Jamison were never told. He was a peculiar man, fat-faced, thin-lipped, gentle-voiced, mild-mannered and soft in his movements as a pussycat. Just why our firmness should give way when we are actually in his presence, I've never been quite able to determine.

Starting point is 06:59:03 He said very little, so did we, although we often entered his presence with other intentions. The truth was that the Manhattan illustrated weekly was the best paying, best illustrated paper in America, and we young fellows were not anxious to be cast adrift. Jamison's knowledge of art was probably as extensive as the knowledge of any art editor in the city. Of course, that was saying nothing, but the fact merited careful consideration on our part, and we gave it much consideration. This time, however, I decided to let Jamison know that drawings are not produced by the yard, and that I was neither a floor-walker, nor a hand me down. I would stand up for my rights.

Starting point is 06:59:44 I'd tell old Jamison a few things to set the wheels under his silk hat spinning, and if he had tempted any of his pussy-cat weighs on me, I'd give him a few plain facts that would curl what hair he had left. glowing with a splendid indignation, I jumped off the car at the City Hall, followed by Curtis, and a few minutes later entered the office of the Manhattan Illustrated News. Mr. Jamerson would like to see you, sir, said one of the compositors, as I passed into the long hallway. I threw my drawings on the table and passed a handkerchief over my forehead. Mr. Jamison would like to see you, sir, said a small, freckle-faced boy with a smudge of ink on his nose.

Starting point is 07:00:24 I know it, I said, and started. to remove my gloves. Mr. Jamison would like to see you, sir, said a lank messenger, who was carrying a bundle of proofs to the floor below. The deuce-take Jamison, I said to myself. I started towards a dark passage that leads to the abode of Jamison, running over in my mind the neat and sarcastic speech, which I had been composing during the last ten minutes.

Starting point is 07:00:50 Jameson looked up and nodded softly as I entered the room. I forgot my speech. mr hilton he said we want a full page of the zoo before it is removed to the bronx park saturday afternoon at three o'clock the drawing must be in the engraver's hands did you have a pleasant week in camp it was hot i muttered furious to find that i could not remember my little speech the weather said jameson with soft courtesy is oppressive everywhere are your drawings in mr hilton yes it was infernally hot and i worked like a niggins I suppose you were quite overcome. Is that why you took a two-day trip to the Catskills? I trust the mountain air restored you, but was it prudent to go to Canstons for the Catigian Tuesday? Dancing in such uncomfortable weather is really unwise. Good morning, Mr Hilton. Remember, the engraver should have your drawings in Saturday by three.

Starting point is 07:01:49 I walked out, half hypnotised, half enraged. Curtis grinned at me as I passed. I could have boxed his ears. Why the mischief should I lose my tongue whenever the old Tomcat purrs? I asked myself as I entered the elevates and was shot down to the first floor. I'll not put up with this sort of thing much longer. How in the name of all that's Foxy did he know that I went to the mountains? I suppose he thinks I'm lazy because I don't wish to be boiled to death. How did he know about the dance in Cranston's? Old cat. The roar and turmoil of machinery and busy men filled my ears as I crossed the avenue and turn into the City Hall Park. From the staff on the tower,

Starting point is 07:02:29 the flag drooped in the warm sunshine with scarcely a breeze to lift its crimson bars. Overhead stretched, a splendid cloudless sky, deep, deep blue, thrilling, scintillating in the gemmed rays of the sun. Pigeons wheeled and circled about the roof of the grey post office, or dropped out of the blue above to flutter around the fountain in the square.

Starting point is 07:02:53 On the steps of the city hall, the unlovely politician lounged, exploring his heavy under-jaw with wooden toothpick, twisting his drooping black moustache or distributing tobacco juice over marble steps and close-clipped grass. My eyes wandered from these human vermin to the calm, scornful face of Nathan Hale on his pedestal, then to the grey-coated park policeman, whose occupation it was to keep little children from the cool grass. A young man with thin hands and blue circles under his eyes was slumbering on a bench by the fountain And the policeman walked over to him

Starting point is 07:03:30 And struck him on the soles of his shoes with a short club The young man rose mechanically Stared about, dazed by the sun shivered and limped away I saw him sit down on the steps of the white marble building And I went over and spoke to him He neither looked at me Nor did he notice the coin I offered You're sick

Starting point is 07:03:50 I said. You had better go to the hospital. Where? He asked vacantly. I've been, but they wouldn't receive me. He stooped and tied a bit of string that held what remained of his shoe to his foot. You are French, I said. Yes.

Starting point is 07:04:08 Have you no friends? Have you been to the French consul? The consul. He replied, no, I haven't been to the French consul. After a moment I said, you speak like a gentleman. He rose to his feet and stood very straight, looking me for the first time directly in the eyes. Who are you? I asked abruptly. An outcast, he said without emotion, and limped off, thrusting his hands into his ragged pockets.

Starting point is 07:04:37 Huh? said the park policeman, who had come up behind me in time to hear my question and the vagabond's answer. Don't you know who that hobo is? And you a newspaper man. Who is? he Cusick, I demanded watching the thin, shabby figure moving across Broadway toward the river. On the level, you don't know Mr. Hilton, repeated Cusick suspiciously. No, I don't. I never before laid eyes on him. Why? said the sparrow policeman. That soldier Charlie, you remember? That French officer who sold secrets to the Dutch emperor. And was to have been shot? I remember now four years ago, and he escaped. You mean to say,

Starting point is 07:05:18 that is the man. Everybody knows it, sniffed Cusick. I'd have thought you newspaper gents would have noted first. What was his name? Asked after a moment's thought. Sotja Charlie. I mean, he's name at home.

Starting point is 07:05:35 Oh, some French dago name. No Frenchman will speak to him here. Sometimes they curse him and kick him. I guess he's dying by inches. I remember the case now. Two young French cavalry officers were arrested. Charge was selling plans of fortifications and other military secrets to the Germans. On the eve of their conviction, one of them, heaven only knows how, escaped and turned up in New York.

Starting point is 07:06:00 The other was duly shot. The affair had made some noise because both young men were of good families. It was a painful episode, and I'd hasten to forget it. Now that it was recalled to my mind, I remembered the newspaper accounts of the case, but I'd forgotten the names of the miserable young men. sold his country observed cussick watching a group of children out of the corner of his eyes you can't trust no frenchman nor dagoes nor dutchman either i guess yankees are about the only white men i looked at the noble face of nathan hale and nodded nothing sneaky about us eh mr hilton i thought of benedict donald and looked at my boots then the policeman said well so long mr hilton and went away to frighten the pasty-faced little girl who had climbed upon the rail was leaning down to sniff the fragrant grass. Cheezer de cop,

Starting point is 07:06:51 cried her shrill-voiced friends, and the whole bevy of small ragamuffins scutted away across the square. With a feeling of depression, I turned and walked toward Broadway, where the long yellow cable cars swept up and down, and the din of gongs and the deafening rumble of heavy trucks

Starting point is 07:07:07 echoed from the marble walls of the courthouse to the granite mass of the post office. Throms of hurrying busy people passed uptown and downtown, slim, sober-faced clerks, trim, cold-eyed brokers, here and there a red-necked politician linking arms of some favourite healer, here and there a city hall lawyer, sallow-faced and saturnine. Sometimes a fireman in his severe blue uniform passed through the crowd, sometimes a blue-coated policeman mopping his clipped hair, holding his helmet in his white-gloved hand. There were women, too, pale-faced, shop girls with pretty eyes, tall-blown.

Starting point is 07:07:45 girls who might be typewriters and might not and many many older women whose business in that part of the city no human being could venture to guess but who hurried uptown and downtown all occupied with something that gave to the whole restless throng a common likeness the expression of one who hastens toward a hopeless goal i knew some of those who passed me there was little jocelyn of the mail and express there was hood who had more money than he wanted and was going to have less than he had less than he had had less than he had had less than he had less than he had that he wanted when he left Wall Street. There was Colonel Tidmouse of the 45th Infantry, N-G-S-N-Y, probably coming from the office of the Army and Navy Journal. And there was Dick Harding, who wrote the best stories of New York Life that had been printed. People said that his hat no longer fitted, especially people who also wrote stories of New York Life and whose hats threatened to fit as long as they lived.

Starting point is 07:08:38 I looked at the statue of Nathan Hale, then at the human stream that flowed around his pedestal. con m m m i muttered and walked out into broadway signaling to the gripman of an uptown cable car end of section thirty three read by adrian stroet turks and caicos islands section thirty four of the maker of moons and other stories this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox dot all recording by adrian stroate turks and caicos islands the maker of moons and other stories by robert w chambers section thirty four a pleasant evening i passed it to the park by the fifth avenue and fifty ninth street gate i can never bring myself to enter it through the gate that is guarded by the hideous pygmy statue or thawalson the afternoon sun poured into the windows of the new netherlands hotel setting every orange curtain pane paint a glitter and tipping the wings of the bronze dragons with flame. Gorgeous masses of flowers blazed in the sunshine from the grey terraces of the Savoy,

Starting point is 07:10:05 from the high grilled court of the Vanderbilt Palace and from the balconies of the plaza opposite. The white marble façade of the Metropolitan Club was grateful relief in the universal glare, and I kept my eyes on it until I had crossed the dusty street and entered the shade of the trees. Before I came to the zoo, I smelled it. Next week it was to be removed to the fresh, cool woods and meadows in Bronx Park, far from the stifling air of the city, far from the infernal noise of the Fifth Avenue omnibuses. A noble stag stared at me from his enclosure among the trees as I passed down their winding asphalt walk. Never mind, old fellow, said I.

Starting point is 07:10:47 You'll be splashing about in the Bronx River next week and cropping maple shoots to your heart's content. all i went past herds of staring deer past great lumbering elk and moose and long-faced african antelopes until i came to the dens of the great carnivora the tigers sprawled in the sunshine blinking and licking their paws the lions slept in the shade or squatted on their haunches yawning gravely a slim panther travelled to and fro behind her barred cage pausing at times to peer wistfully out into the free sunny world my heart ached for caged wild things, and I walked on, glancing up now and then to encounter the blank stare of a tiger, or the mean, shifty eyes of some ill-smelling hyena. Across the meadow I could see the elephants swaying and swinging their great heads, the sober bison solemnly slobbering over their cuds, the sarcastic countenances of camels, the wicked little zebras, and a lot more animals of the camel and lava tribe, all resembling each other, all equally ridiculous, stupid, dead.

Starting point is 07:11:53 un-interesting. Somewhere behind the old arsenal, an eagle was screaming, probably a Yankee eagle. I heard the chug-chug of a blowing hippopotamus, the squeal of a falcon, and the snarling yap of quarreling wolves. A pleasant place for a hot day, I pondered bitterly, and I thought some things about Jamison that I shall not insert in this volume. But I lighted a cigarette to deaden the aroma from the hyenas, unclasped my sketching block, sharpened my pencil, and fell to work on a family group of hippopotami. They may have taken me for a photographer, for they all wore smiles as if welcoming a friend, and my sketch block presented a series of wide-open jaws, behind which shapeless, bulky bodies vanished in alarming perspective. The other gayses were easy. They looked to me as though they had not moved since the

Starting point is 07:12:45 founding of the zoo, but I had a bad time with the big bison, who persistently turned his tail to me, looking solidly around his flank to see how I stood it. So I pretended to be absorbed in the antics of two bear cubs, and the dreary old bison fell into the trap, for I made some good sketches of him, and laughed in his face as I closed the book. There was a bench by the abode of the eagles, and I sat down on it to draw the vultures and condors, motionless as mummies, among the piled rocks. Gradually I enlarged the sketch, bringing in the gravel plaza, the steps leading up to the fifth avenue the sleepy park policeman in front of the arsenal and a slim white-browed girl dressed in shabby black who stood silently in a shade of the willow trees after a while i found that the sketch instead of being a study of the eagles was in reality a composition in which the girl in black occupied the principal point of interest unwittingly i had subordinated everything else to her the brooding vultures the trees and the walks and the half-indicated group

Starting point is 07:13:50 groups of sun-warmed loungers she stood very still her pallid face bent her thin white hands loosely clasped before her rather dejected reverie i thought probably she is out of work then i caught a glimpse of a sparkling diamond ring on the slender third finger of her left hand she'll not starve with such a stone as that about her i said to myself looking curiously at her dark eyes and sensitive mouth they were both beautiful eyes and mouth beautiful but touched with pain after a while i rose and walked back to make a sketch or two of the lions and tigers i avoided the monkeys i can't stand them and they never seemed funny to me poor dwarfish degraded caricatures of all that is ignoble in ourselves i've enough now i thought i'll go home and manufacture up a full page that will probably please jameson so i strapped the elastic band around my sketching block replaced placed pencil and rubber in my waistcoat pocket and strolled off toward the mall to smoke a cigarette in the evening glow before going back to my studio to work until midnight up to the chin in charcoal gray and chinese white across the long meadow i could see the roofs of the city faintly looming above the trees a mist of amethyst ever deepening hung low on the horizon and through it steeple and dome roof and tower and the tall chimneys where thin fillets of smoke curled up vitally were transformed into pinnacles of beryl and flaming minarets swimming in filmy haze slowly the enchantment deepened all that was ugly and shabby and mean had fallen away from the distant city and now it towered into the evening sky splendid gilded magnificent purified in the fierce furnace of the setting sun the red disc was half hidden now the tracery of trees feathery willow and budding birch darkened against the glow the fiery rays shot far across the megilding the dead leaves staining with soft crimson the dark moist tree trunks around me Far across the meadow, a shepherd passed in the wake of a huddling flock,

Starting point is 07:16:05 his dog at his heels, faint moving blots of grey. A squirrel sat up on the gravel walk in front of me, ran a few feet, and sat up again, so close that I could see the palpitation of his sleek flanks. Somewhere in the grass a hidden field insect was rehearsing last summer's solos. I heard the tap, tap, tat-tat-tat-tat of a woodpecker among the branches overhead, and the querulous note of a sleepy robin. The twilight deepened. Out of the city, the music of bells floated over wooden meadow.

Starting point is 07:16:39 Faint mellow whistles sounded from the river craft along the north shore, and the distant thunder of a gun announced the close of a June day. The end of my cigarette began to glimmer with a red alight. Shepherd and flock were blotted out in the dusk, and I only knew they were still moving when the sheep bells twinkled faintly. Then suddenly that strange uneasiness that all of us have known, that half-awakened sense of having seen it all before, of having been through it all, came over me. And I raised my head and slowly turned. A figure was sitting at my side.

Starting point is 07:17:15 My mind was struggling with the instinct to remember. Something so vague and yet so familiar. Something that clouded thought, yet challenged it. Something, God knows what, troubled me. and now as i looked without interest at the dark figure beside me an apprehension totally involuntary and impatience to understand came upon me and i sighed and turned restlessly again to the fading west i thought i heard my sigh re-echoed i scarcely heeded and in a moment i sighed again dropped my burned-out cigarette on the gravel beneath my feet did you speak to me said someone in a low voice so close to that I swung around rather sharply. No, I said after a moment's silence.

Starting point is 07:18:02 It was a woman. I could not see her face clearly, but I saw on her clasped hands, which lay listlessly in her lap, the sparkle of a great diamond. I knew her at once. You did not need a glance of the shabby dress of black, the white face, a pallid spot in the twilight,

Starting point is 07:18:20 to tell me that I had her picture in my sketchbook. Do, do you mind if I speak to you? she asked timidly the hopeless sadness in her voice touched me and i said why no of course not can i do anything for you yes she said brightening a little if you-you only would i will if i can said i cheerfully what is it out of ready cash no not that she said shrinking back i begged her pardon a little surprised and withdrew my hand from my change pocket it is it is a little surprised and withdrew my hand from my change pocket it is a little bit of her little surprised and withdrew my hand from my change pocket it is only only that I wish you to take these. She drew a thin packet from her breast. These two letters. I? I asked astonished. Yes, if you will. But what am I to do with them? I demanded. I can't tell you. I only know that I must give them to you. Would you take them? Oh yes, I'll take them, I laughed. Am I to read them? I added to myself. It's some clever

Starting point is 07:19:24 a begging trick. No, she answered slowly. You are not to read them. You are to give them to somebody. To whom? Anybody? No, not to anybody. You will know whom to give them to when the time comes. Then I am to keep them until further instructions. Your own heart will instruct you, she said in a scarcely audible voice. She held the thin packet toward me, and to humor her, I took it. It was wet. The letters fell into the sea, she said. There was a photograph which should have gone with them, but the salt water washed it blank.

Starting point is 07:20:04 Would you care if I ask you something else? I? Oh, no. Then give me the picture that you made of me today. I laughed again and demanded how she knew I had drawn her. Is it like me? she said. I think it is very like you, I answered truthfully. Would you not give it to me? Now it was on the tip of my tongue to refuse,

Starting point is 07:20:28 but I reflected that I had enough sketches for a full page without that one, so I handed it to her, nodded that she was welcome, and stood up. She rose also, the diamond flashing on her finger. You are sure you are not in want, I asked with a tinge of good-natured sarcasm. Hark! she whispered. Listen, do you hear the bells of the convent? I looked out into the misty night. There were no bells sounding, I said.

Starting point is 07:20:57 And anyway, there are no convent bells here. We are in New York, mademoiselle. I had noticed her French accent. We're in Protestant, Yankee land, and the bells that ring are much less mellow than the bells of France. I'd turn pleasantly to say good night. She was gone. End of Section 34.

Starting point is 07:21:19 Read by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. section thirty five of the maker of moons and other stories this is a librivox recording all libervox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox dot all recording by adrian stroet turks and caicos islands the maker of moons and other stories by robert w chambers section thirty five a pleasant evening have you ever drawn a picture of a corpse inquired jameson next morning as i walked into his private room with a sketch of the proposed full page of the zoo no and i don't want to i replied sullenly let me see your central park page said jameson in his gentle voice and i displayed it it was about worthless as far as artistic production but it pleased jameson as i knew it would can you finish it by this afternoon he asked looking up at me with persuasive eyes "'Oh, I suppose so,' I said wearily. "'Anything else, Mr. Jamison?' "'The corpse,' he replied.

Starting point is 07:22:41 "'I want a sketch by tomorrow. "'Finished.' "'What corpse?' I demanded controlling my indignation as I met Jamison's soft eyes. "'There was a mute duel of glances. "'Gamison passed his hand across his forehead with a slight lifting of the eyebrows. "'I shall want it as soon as possible,' he said, in his caressing voice. what i thought was damned purring pussy-cat what i said was where is this corpse in the morgue have you read the morning papers no ah as you very rightly observe you are too busy to read the morning papers young men must learn industry first of course of course what you are to do is this the san francisco police have sent out an alarm regarding the disappearance of a mistuffed

Starting point is 07:23:32 the millionaire's daughter you know today a body was brought to the morgue here in new york and it has been identified as the missing young lady by a diamond ring now i'm convinced that it isn't and i'll show you why mr hilton he picked up a pen and made a sketch of a ring on the margin of that morning's tribune that is the description of her ring as sent on from san francisco you notice the diamond is set in the centre of the ring where the two gold serpents tails crossed Now, the ring on the finger of the woman in the morgue is like this, and he rapidly sketched another ring where the diamond rested in the fangs of the two gold serpents. That is the difference, he said in his pleasant, even voice. Rings like that are not uncommon, said I, remembering that I had seen such a ring on the finger of a white-faced girl in the park the evening before. Then a sudden thought took shape. Perhaps that was the girl whose body lay in the morgue. Well, said Jamison, looking up at me, what are you thinking about?

Starting point is 07:24:38 Nothing? I answered, but the whole scene was before my eyes, the vultures brooding among the rocks, the shabby black dress and the pallid face, and the ring glittering on the slim white hand. Nothing, I repeated. When shall I go, Mr. Jamison? Do you want a portrait, or what? Portrait. careful drawing at the ring, and, uh, a centrepiece of the morgue at night.

Starting point is 07:25:06 Might as well give people the horrors while we're about it. But, said I, the policy of this paper. Never mind, Mr Hilton, heard Jamison. I'm able to direct the policy of this paper. I don't doubt you are, I said angrily. I am, he repeated, undisturbed and smiling. You see, this Tuft case interests society. I am also interested.

Starting point is 07:25:33 He held out to me the morning paper and pointed to a heading. I read, Miss Tuft dead. Her fiancé was Mr. Jamison, the well-known editor. What? I cried in horrified amazement, but Jamison had left the room, and I heard him chatting and laughing softly with some visitors in the press room outside. I flung down the paper and walked out.

Starting point is 07:25:57 The cold-blooded toad. I exclaimed again and again, making capital out of his fiancée's disappearance. Well, I... I'm damned. I knew he was a bloodless, heartless grip penny, but I never thought, I never imagined. Words failed me. Scarcely conscious of what I did,

Starting point is 07:26:16 I drew a herald from my pocket and saw a column entitled, Miss Tuft found, identified by ring, wild grief of Mr. Jamison, her fiancé. That was enough. I went out of the street, and sat down in City Hall Park, and as I sat there a terrible resolution came to me.

Starting point is 07:26:34 I would draw that dead girl's face in such a way that it would chill Jameson's sluggish blood. I would crowd the black shadows at the morgue with forms and ghastly faces, and every face should bear something in it of Jamison. I'd rouse him from his cold, snaky apathy. I'd confront him with death in such an awful form, that passionless base, inhuman as he was, he'd shrink from it as he would from a dagger thrust. Of course I'd lose my place, but that did not bother me, for I decided to resign anyway, not having a taste for the society of human reptiles.

Starting point is 07:27:08 And, as I sat there in the sunny park, furious trying to plan a picture whose sombre horror should leave in his mind an ineffaceable scar, I suddenly thought of the pale, black-robed girl in Central Park. Could it be her, poor, slender body, that lay among the shadows of the grim morgue, If ever a brooding despair was stamped on any face, I'd seen its print on hers when she spoke to me in the park and gave me the letters. The letters. I had not thought of them since, but now I drew them from my pocket and looked at the addresses. Curious, I thought. The letters are still damp. They smell of salt water, too. I looked at the address again, written in the long, fine hand of an educated woman who had been bred in a French convent.

Starting point is 07:27:57 both letters bore the same name in french captain d'ignolle kindness of a stranger captain d'iniole i repeated aloud confounded i've heard that name now where the deuce where in the name of all that's queer somebody who had sat down on the bench beside me placed a heavy hand on my shoulder it was the frenchman sojour charlie you spoke my name he said in apathetic tones your nose you're not a man name? Captain Dianjol, he repeated. It is my name. I recognized him in spite of the black goggles he was wearing, and at the same moment it flashed into my mind that Dianjol was the name of the traitor who had escaped. Ah, I remembered now. I am Captain Diannoyal, he said again, and I saw his fingers closing on my coat sleeve. It may have been my involuntary movement of recoil, I don't know, but the fellow dropped my coat and sat straight up on the bench. I am Captain D'Irino, he said for the third time, charged with treason and under-sentence of death,

Starting point is 07:29:07 and innocent, I muttered, before I was even conscious of having spoken. What was it that wrung those involuntary words from my lips? I shall never know, perhaps. But it was I, not he, who trembled, seized with a strange agitation, and it was I, not he, whose hand was stretched forth impulsively touching his. Without a tremor, he took my hand, pressed it almost imperceptibly, and dropped it. Then I held both letters toward him, and, as he neither looked at them nor at me, I placed them in his hand.

Starting point is 07:29:40 Then he started. Read them, I said. They are for you. Letters? It gasped on a voice that sounded like nothing human. Yes, they are for you. I know it now. Letters?

Starting point is 07:29:55 Letters directed to me? Can you not see? I cried. Then he raised one frail hand and drew the goggles from his eyes, and as I looked I saw two tiny white specks exactly in the centre of both pupils. Blind, I faltered. I've been unable to read for two years, he said. After a moment he placed the tip of one finger on the letters. They are wet, I said.

Starting point is 07:30:24 shall would you like to have me read them for a long time he sat silently in the sunshine fumbling with his cane and i watched him without speaking at last he said read monsieur and i took the letters and broke the seals the first letter contained a sheet of paper damp and discoloured on which a few lines were written my darling i knew you are innocent here the writing ended but in the blur beneath i read Paris shall know, France shall know, for at last I have the proofs that I am coming to find you, my soldier, and to place them in your own dear brave hands. They know, now, at the war ministry, they have a copy of the traitor's confession.

Starting point is 07:31:11 But they dare not make it public. They dare not withstand the popular astonishment and rage. Therefore, I sail on Monday from Sherburg by the Green Cross line to bring you back to your own again, where you will stand before all the world without fear without reproach aline this this is terrible i stammered can god live and see such things done but with his thin hand he gripped my arm again bidding me read the other letter and i shuddered at the menace in his voice then with his sightless eyes on me i drew the other letter from the wet stained envelope and before i was aware before i understood the purport of what i saw i had read aloud these half-effaced lines. The Luriant is sinking, an iceberg, mid-ocean, goodbye. You are innocent. I love. The Luriant, I cried. It was the French steamer that was never heard from.

Starting point is 07:32:11 The lorient of the Green Cross line. I'd forgotten I. The loud crash of a revolver stunned me. My ears rang and ached with it as I shrank back from a ragged, dusty figure that collapsed on the bench beside me, shut at a moment, and tumbled to the asphalt at my feet. The trampling of the eager, hard-eyed crowd, the dust and the taint of powder in the hot air, the harsh alarm of the ambulance clattering up Mail Street. These I remember, as I knelt there helplessly, holding the dead man's hands in mine. Sojur Charlie, mused the sparrow policeman. Shot his self, didn't he, Mr Hilton? You seen him, sir? Blowed the top of his head off.

Starting point is 07:32:53 Didn't he, Mr. Hilton? Soldier Charlie, they repeated. A French dago watch shot herself. And the words echoed in my ears long after the ambulance rattled away, and the increasing throng dispersed sullenly, as a couple of policemen cleared a space around the pool of thick blood on the asphalt. They wanted me as a witness, and I gave my card to one of the policemen who knew me. The rabble transferred its fascinated stare to me,

Starting point is 07:33:23 and I turned away and pushed a path between frightened shock girls and ill-smelling loafers until I lost myself in the human torrent of Broadway. The torrent took me with it where it flowed, east, west. I did not notice nor care, but I passed on through the throne, listless, deadly weary of attempting to solve God's justice, striving to understand his purpose, his laws, his judgments which are true and righteous altogether. End of Section 35, read by Adrian Stroett, Turks and Caicos Islands. Section 36 of the Maker of Moons and Other Stories. This is a Libra Box recording. All Libra Box recordings are in the public domain.

Starting point is 07:34:22 For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. The Maker of Moons and Other Stories by Robert W. Chainberg. section thirty six a pleasant evening more to be desired are they than gold yea than much fine gold sweeter also than honey and honey comb i turned sharply toward the speaker who shambled at my elbow his sunken eyes were dull and lustreless his bloodless face gleamed pallid as a death-mask above the blood-red jersey the emblem of the soldiers of christ i don't know why i stopped lingering but as he passed i said brother i also was meditating about god's wisdom and his testimonies the pale fanatic shot a glance at me hesitated and fell into my own pace walking by my side under the peak of his salvation army cap his eyes shone in the shadow with a strange light tell me more i said sinking my voice below the roar of the traffic the clang clang of the cable cars and the noise of feet on the worn pavements.

Starting point is 07:35:37 Tell me of his testimonies. Moreover by them is thy servant warned, and in keeping of them there is great reward. Who can answer his errors? Cleanse thou me from secret faults. Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins. Let them not have dominion over me. Then shall I be upright, and I shall be innocent from the great transgression.

Starting point is 07:36:01 Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be exceeding. acceptable in thy sight. O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer. It is Holy Scripture that you quote, I said. I also can read that when I choose, but it cannot clear for me the reasons. It cannot make me understand. What? he asked and muttered to himself.

Starting point is 07:36:24 That, for instance, I replied, pointed to a cripple who had been born deaf and dumb and horribly misshapen. A wretched diseased lump on the sidewalk below St. Paul, churchyard. A sore-eyed thing that mouthed and mowed and rattled pennies in a tin cup, as though the sound of copper could stem the human pack that passed hot on the scent of gold. Then the man who shambled beside me turned and looked long and earnestly into my eyes, and after a moment a dull recollection stirred within me. A vague something that seemed like the awakening memory of a past, long, long, forgotten. dim, dark, too subtle, too frail, too indefinite. Ah, the old feeling that all men have known, the old strange uneasiness that useless struggle to remember when and where it all occurred before.

Starting point is 07:37:16 And the man's head sank on his crimson jersey, and he muttered, muttered to himself of God and love and compassion, until I saw that the fierce heat of the city had touched his brain, and I went away and left him, prating of his own. mysteries that none but such as he dare name. So I passed on through dust and heat, and the hot breath of men touched my cheek and eager eyes looked into mine, eyes, eyes, that met my own and looked through them beyond, far beyond to where gold glittered amid the mirage of eternal hope. Gold! It was in the air where the soft sunlight gilded the floating moats. It was underfoot in the dust that the sun made

Starting point is 07:38:00 guilt. It glimmered through every window pane where the long red beams struck golden sparks above the gasping gold-hunting hordes of Wall Street. High, high in the deepening sky, the tall buildings towered and the breeze from the bay lifted from the sun-dyed flags of commerce until they waved above the turmoil of the hives below, waved courage and hope and strength to those who lusted after gold. The sun dipped low behind Castle William, as I turned listlessly into the battery, and the long straight shadows of the trees stretched away over Grings Ward and asphalt walk. Already the electric lights were glimmering among the foliage, although the bay shimmered like polished brass and the topsails of the ships glowed with a deeper hue,

Starting point is 07:38:48 where the red sun rays forthwought the rigging. Old men tottered along the seawall, tapping the asphalt, with worn canes. Old women crept to and fro in the coming twilight. Old women who carried baskets that gaited for charity or bulged with mouldy stuffs. Food, clothing? I could not tell. I did not care to know. The heavy thunder from the parapets of Castle Woodham died away over the placid bay. The last red arm of the sea shot up out of the sea and wavered and faded into the sombre tones of the afterglow. Then came the night, timidly at first. touching sky and water with grey fingers, folding the foliage into soft, mast shapes,

Starting point is 07:39:33 creeping onward, onward, more swiftly now, until colour and form had gone from all the earth, and the world was a world of shadows. As I sat there, on the dusky sea wall, gradually, the bitter thoughts faded, and I looked out into the calm night with something of that peace that comes to all when day is ended. The death at my very elbow of the poor blind wretch in the park had left a shock but now my nerves relaxed their tension and i began to think about it all about the letters and the strange woman who had given them to me i wondered where she had found them whether they really were carried by some vagrant current into the shore from the wreck of the fated laurent nothing but these letters had human eyes encountered from the laurent although we believed that fire or berg had been her portion for there had been no storms when the lorrients steamed away from sherburg and what of the pale-faced girl in black who had given these letters to me saying that my own heart would teach me where to place them i felt in my pockets for the letters where i had thrust them all crumpled and wet they were there and i decided to turn them over to the police then i thought of cussick and the city of the city of the city of the city of the city of the city of the city of the city of the city of the city of the police they were there and i had decided to turn them all Hall Park, and these set my mind running on Jamison and my own work. Ah, I'd forgotten that. I had forgotten

Starting point is 07:40:54 that I'd sworn to stir Jamison's cold, sluggish blood, trading on his fianc's reported suicide. Oh, murder! True, he had told me that he was satisfied that the body at the morgue was not mistuffs because the ring did not correspond with his fiancée's ring. But what sort of man was that? to go crawling and nosing about morgues and graves for a full-page illustration which might sell a few extra thousand papers. I had never known he was such a man. It was strange too, for that was not the sort of illustration that the weekly used. It was against all precedent, against the whole policy of the paper. He would lose a hundred subscribers where he would gain one by such work.

Starting point is 07:41:38 The callous brute, I muttered to myself. I'll wake him up. Oh! I sat straight up on the bench and looked steadily at a figure which was moving toward me under the spluttering electric light. It was the woman I had met in the park. She came straight up to me, her pale face gleaming like marble in the dark, her slim hands outstretched. I've been looking for you all day. All day, she said in the same low, thrilling tones.

Starting point is 07:42:10 I want the letters back. Have you them here? Yes, I said. I have them here. Take them in heaven's name. They have done enough evil for one day. She took the letters from my hand. I saw the ring made of the double serpents flashing on her slim finger,

Starting point is 07:42:29 and I stepped closer and looked her in the eyes. Who are you? I asked. I? My name is no importance to you, she answered. You are right, I said. I don't. not care to know your name. That ring of yours, what of my ring? She muttered. Nothing.

Starting point is 07:42:49 A dead woman lying in the morgue wears such a ring. Do you know what your letters have done? No. Well, I read them to a miserable wretch, and he blew his brains out. You read them to a man? I did. He killed himself. Who was that man? Captain Deigno, with something between a sobbed a laugh, she seized my hand and covered it with kisses, and I, astonished and angry, pulled my hand away from her cold lips and sat down on the bench. You needn't thank me, I said sharply, if I had known that, but no matter. Perhaps after all the poor devil is better off somewhere in other regions with his sweetheart, who was drowned.

Starting point is 07:43:32 Yes, I imagine he is. He was blind and ill, and broken-hearted. "'Blind,' she asked gently. "'Yes. Did you know him? I knew him. "'And his sweetheart, Aileen.' "'Aleen,' she repeated softly. "'She is dead. "'I come to thank you in her name.

Starting point is 07:43:54 "'For what? For his death?' "'Ah, yes, for that. "'Where did you get those letters?' I asked her suddenly. "'She did not answer, but stood fingering the wet letters. Before I could speak again she moved away into the shadows of the trees, lightly, silently, and far down the dark walk, I saw her diamond flashing. Grimly brooding, I rose and passed through the bastery to the steps of the elevated road. These I climbed, bought my ticket, and stepped out to the damp platform.

Starting point is 07:44:26 When a train came I crowded in with the rest, still pondering on my vengeance, feeling and believing that I was to scourge the conscience of the man who speculated on death. and at last the train stopped at 28th Street and I hurried out and down the steps and away to the morgue. When I entered the morgue, Skelton, the keeper, was standing before a slab that glistened faintly under the wretched gas jets. He heard my footsteps and turned around to see who was coming. Then he nodded, saying, Mr Hilton, just take a look at this here stiff. I'll be back in a moment.

Starting point is 07:45:01 This is the one that all the papers take to be mistuffed, but they're all off, because this stiff has been here now for two weeks. I drew out my sketching block and pencils. Which is it, Skelton? I asked, fumbling for my rubber. This one, Mr Hilton. The girl, what's smiling, picked up off Sandy Hook too.

Starting point is 07:45:21 Looks as if she was asleep, eh? What she got in her hand? Clench tight. Oh, a letter. Turn up the gas, Skelton. I want to see her face. The old man turned the gas chest. and the flame blazed and whistled in the damp fettered air then suddenly my eyes fell on the dead rigid scarcely breathing i stared at the ring made of two twisted serpents set with a great diamond

Starting point is 07:45:50 i saw the wet letters crushed in her slender hand i looked and god help me i looked upon the dead face of the girl with whom i had been speaking on the battery dead for a month at least said skil Shelton calmly. Then as I felt my senses leaving me, I screamed out, and at the same instant somebody from behind seized my shoulder and shook me savagely, shook me until I opened my eyes again and gasped and coughed. "'Now then, young fellow,' said a park policeman, bending over me, "'if you go to sleep on a bench, somebody will lift your watch.' I turned, rubbing my eyes desperately. Then it was all a dream. And no shrinking girl had come to me with damp letters. I had not gone to the office. There was no such person as mistuffed. Jamison was not an unfeeling villain. No, indeed. He treated us all much better than we deserved, and he was

Starting point is 07:46:49 kind and generous too. And the ghastly suicide. Thank God that was also a myth. And the morgue and the basriad night where the pale-faced girl had... Oh! i felt for my sketch-book found it turned the pages of all the animals that i had sketched the hippopotamide the buffalo the tigers ah where was that sketch in which i had made the woman in shabby black the principal figure with the brooding vultures all around and the crowd and the sunshine it was gone i hunted everywhere in every pocket it was gone at last i rose and moved along the narrow asphalt path in the fall in twilight. And as I turned into the broader walk, I was aware of a group, a policeman holding a lantern, some gardeners and knot of loungers gathered about something, a dark mass on the ground. Found them just so, one of the gardeners was saying. Better not touch him until the coroner comes. The policeman shifted his bull's eye a little. The rays fell on two faces, on two bodies,

Starting point is 07:47:55 half supported against a park bench. On the finger of the girl, glittered a splendid, diamond, set between the fangs of two gold serpents. The man had shot himself. He clasped two wet letters in his hand. The girl's clothing and hair were ringing wet, and her face was the face of a drowned person. Well, sir, said the policeman looking at me. You seem to know these two people, by your looks. I never saw them before. I gasped and walked on, trembling in every nerve for among the folds of her shabby black dress i had noticed the end of a paper my sketch that i had missed end of section thirty six read by adrian stroet turks and caicos islands section thirty seven of the maker of moons and other stories this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit revox dot org recording by adrian strode turks and caicos islands the maker of moons and other stories by robert w chambers section thirty seven the man at the next table

Starting point is 07:49:34 it was high noon in the city of antwerp from slender steeples floated the mellow music of the flemish bells and in the spire of the great cathedral across the square the cracked chimes clashed discords until my ears ate. When the fiend in the cathedral had jerked the last tuneless clang from the chimes, I removed my fingers from my ears and sat down at one of the iron tables in the court. A waiter, with his face shaved blue, brought me a bottle of rine wine, a tumble of cracked ice, and a siphon. Does monsieur desire anything else? he inquired. Yes, the head of the cathedral, bell-ringer, bring it with vividly.

Starting point is 07:50:18 vinegar and potatoes, I said bitterly. Then I began to ponder on my great aunt and the crimson diamond. The white walls of the Hotel San Antoine rose in a rectangle around the sunny court, casting long shadows across the basin of the fountain. The strip of blue overhead was cloudless. Sparrows twittered under the eaves, the yellow awnings fluttered, the flowers swayed in the summer breeze, and the jet of the fountain splashed among the water plants. on the sunny side of the piazza the tables were vacant on the shady side i was lazily aware that the tables behind me were occupied but i was indifferent as to their occupants partly because i shunned all tourists partly because i was thinking of my great aunt

Starting point is 07:51:04 most old ladies are eccentric but there is a limit in my great aunt had overstepped it i had believed her to be wealthy she died bankrupt still i knew there was one thing she did she did possess and that was the famous crimson diamond. Now, of course, you know who my great-aunt was. Excepting the Coenor and the regent, this enormous and unique stone was, as everybody knows, the most valuable gem in existence. Any ordinary person would have placed that diamond in a safe deposit. My great-aunt did nothing of the kind. She kept it in a small velvet bag which she carried about her own. neck. She never took it off, but wore it dangling openly on her heavy silk gown. In this same bag, she also carried dried catnip leaves, of which she was inordinately fond. Nobody but myself, her only living relative, knew that the crimson diamond lay among the sprigs of catnip

Starting point is 07:52:08 in the little velvet bag. Harold, she would say, do you think I'm a fool? If I place the crimson diamond in any safe deposit vault in New York. Somebody would steal it sooner or later. Then she would nibble a sprig of catnip and peer cunningly at me. I loathed the odour of catnip, and she knew it. I also loathed cats. This also, she knew and of course surrounded herself with a dozen. Poor old lady. On the first day of March 1896, she was found dead in her bed, in her apartments at the Waldorf. The doctor said she died from natural causes. The only other occupant of her sleeping room was a cat.

Starting point is 07:52:53 The cat fled when we broke open the door, and I heard that she was received and cherished by some people in a neighbouring apartment. Now, although my great aunt's death was due to purely natural causes, there was one very startling and disagreeable feature of the case. The velvet bag contained in the crimson diamond had disappeared. every inch of the apartment was searched the floors torn up the walls dismantled but the crimson diamond had vanished chief of police conlin detailed four of his best men on the case and as i had nothing better to do i enrolled myself as a volunteer i also offered twenty five thousand dollars reward for the recovery of the gem all new york was a gog the case seemed hopeless enough although there were five of us after the thief mcfarlane was in london and had been for a month but scotland yide could give him no help and the last i heard of him he was roaming through surrey after a man with a white spot in his hair harrison gone to paris he kept writing me that clues were plenty and the scent hot

Starting point is 07:54:00 But, as Dennett in Berlin and Clancy in Vienna wrote me the same thing, I began to doubt these gentlemen's ability. You say, I answered Harrison, that the fellow is a Frenchman, that it is now concealed in Paris. But Dennett writes me, by the same mail that the thief is undoubtedly a German and was seen yesterday in Berlin. Today I received a letter from Clancy, assuring me that Vienna holds the culprit and that he is an Austrian from Trieste. Now for heaven's sake, I ended. Let me alone and stop writing me letters until you have something to write about. The night clerk of the Waldorf had furnished me with our first clue.

Starting point is 07:54:42 On the night of my aunt's death, he had seen a tall, grave-faced man hurriedly leave the hotel. As the man passed the desk, he removed his hat and mopped his forehead. And the night clerk noticed that in the middle of his head there was a patch of hair as white as snow. We worked this clue for all it was worth, and a month later I received a cable dispatch from Paris, saying that a man answering to the description of the Waldorf suspect had offered an enormous crimson diamond for sale to the jeweller in the Palais Royal. Unfortunately, the fellow took fright and disappeared before the jeweller could send for the police,

Starting point is 07:55:21 and since that time, McFarlane in London, Harrison in Paris, Dennett in Berlin and Clancy in Vienna, had been chasing men with white patches on their hair until no grey-headed patriarch in Europe was free from suspicion. I myself had sleuthed it through England, France, Holland and Belgium, and now I found myself in Antwerp at the Hotel Saint-Antoine, without a clue that promised anything except another outrage on some respectable white-haired citizen. The case seemed hopeless enough, unless the thief tried again to sell the gem. Here was our only hope, for unless he cut the stone into smaller ones, he had no more chance of selling it than he would have had if he had stolen the Venus of Milo and peddled her about the rue desine. Even were he to cut up the stone, no respectable gem collector or jeweller would buy a crimson diamond without first notifying me, for although a few red stones are known to collectors, the colour of the crimson diamond was absolutely unique, and there was little probability.

Starting point is 07:56:27 of an honest mistake. Thinking of all these things, I sat sipping my rind wine in the shadow of the yellow awnings. A large white cat came sauntering by and stopped in front of me to perform her toilet

Starting point is 07:56:41 until I wished she would go away. After a while she sat up, licked her whiskers, yawned once or twice, and was about to stroll on when, catching sight of me, she stopped short and looked me squarely in the face.

Starting point is 07:56:55 I returned the attention with a scowl because I wished to discourage any advances towards social intercourse which she might contemplate, but after a while her steady gaze disconcerted me, and I turned to my rhine wine. A few minutes later I looked up again. The cat was still eyeing me. Now what the devil is the matter with the animal? I muttered. Does she recognise in me a relative? Perhaps, observed a man at the next table. What do you mean by that?

Starting point is 07:57:26 I demanded. What I say, replied the man at the next table. I looked at him full in the face. He was old and bald and appeared weak-minded. His age protected his impudence. I turned my back on him when my eyes fell on the cat again. She was still gazing earnestly at me. Disgusted that she should take such pointed public notice of me,

Starting point is 07:57:50 I wondered whether other people saw it. I wondered whether there was anything peculiar in my own personal appearance. How hard the creature stared. It was most embarrassing. What has got into that cat? I thought. It's sheer impudence. It's an intrusion, and I won't stand it. The cat did not move. I tried to stare out of countenance. It was useless. There was aggressive inquiry in her yellow eyes. A sensation of uneasiness began to steal over me. A sensation of embarrassment, not unmasmas.

Starting point is 07:58:26 mixed with awe. All cats looked alike to me, and yet there was something about this one that bothered me, something that I could not explain to myself at which began to occupy me. She looked familiar, this ant-worked cat. An odd sense of having seen her before, of having been well acquainted with her in former years slowly settled on my mind, and, although I could never remember the time when I had not detested cats, I was almost convinced that my relations with this ant-work tabby had once been intimate, if not cordial. I looked more closely at the animal. Then an idea struck me,

Starting point is 07:59:06 an idea which persisted and took definite shape in spite of me. I strove to escape from it, to evade it, to stifle and smother it, an inward struggle ensued, which brought the perspiration in beads upon my cheeks. A struggle short, sharp, decisive. It was useless. useless to try to put it from me this idea so wretchedly bizarre so grotesque and fantastic so utterly inane it was useless to deny that the cat bore a distinct resemblance to my great aunt i gazed at her in horror what enormous eyes the creature had blood is thicker than water said the man at the next table what does he mean by that i muttered angrily swallowing a tumbler of ryan wine and

Starting point is 07:59:56 seltzer, but did not turn. What was the use? Chattering old imbecile, I added to myself, and struck a match when my cigar was out, but as I raised the match to relight it, I encountered the cat's eyes again. I could not enjoy my cigar with the animals staring at me, but I was justly indignant and did not intend to be rooted. The idea? Forced to leave for a cat? I sneered. We will see who will be the one to go. i tried to give her a jet of seltzer from the siphon but the bottle was too nearly empty to carry far then i attempted to lure her nearer calling her in french german and english but she did not stir i did not know the flemish for cat she's got a name and won't come i thought now what under the sun can i call her auntie suggested the man at the next table i sat perfectly still

Starting point is 08:00:56 could that man have answered my thoughts for i had not spoken aloud of course not was a coincidence but a very disgusting one auntie i repeated mechanically auntie auntie good gracious how horribly human that cat looks then somehow or other shakespeare's words crept into my head and i found myself repeating the soul of his grand dam might have had been inhabits a bird. The soul of his grand dam might happily inhabit a bird. The soul of... Nonsense. I growled. It isn't printed correctly. One might possibly say, speaking in poetical metaphor, that the soul of a bird might happily inhabit one's grand dam. I stopped short, flushing painfully. What awful rot! I murmured, and lighted another cigar. The cat was still staring. The cigar went out. i grew more and more nervous what rot i repeated pythagoras must have been an ass but i do believe that there are plenty of asses alive to-day who swallowed that sort of thing

Starting point is 08:02:09 who knows sighed the man at the next table and i sprang to my feet and wheeled about but i only caught a glimpse of a pair of frayed coat-tails and a bald head vanishing into the dining-room i sat down again thoroughly indignant a moment later the captain got up and went away. End of Section 37. Read by Adrian Strohers, Turks and Caicos Islands. Section 38 of the Maker of Moons and Other Stories. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain.

Starting point is 08:03:00 For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. The Maker of Moons and Other Stories By Robert W. Chambers Section 38, The Man at the Next Table. Daylight was fading in the city of Antwerp. Down to the sea sank the sun,

Starting point is 08:03:26 tinting the vast horizon with flakes of crimson, and touching with rich deep undertones the tossing waters of the sheld. Its glow felt like a rosy mantle over red-tiled roofs and meadows, and through the haze the spires of twenty churches pierced the air like sharp gilded flames. To the western south the green plains over which the Spanish armies tramped so long ago stretched away until they met the sky.

Starting point is 08:03:56 The enchantment of the afterglow had turned old Antwerp into fairyland, and sea and sky and plain were beautiful and vague as the night mists floating in the moats below. Along the seawall from the Rubens gate, all Antwerps strolled and chatted and flirted and sipped their Flemish wines from slender Flemish glasses, or gossiped over crugs of foaming beer. From the sheld came the cries of sailors, the creaking of cordage, and the puff, puff of the ferryboats. On the bastions of the fortress opposite, a bugler was standing. Twice the mellow notes of the bugler came faintly on. over the water. Then a great gun thundered from the ramparts and the Belgian flag fluttered along the lanyards to the ground. I leaned listlessly on the sea wall and looked down at the

Starting point is 08:04:49 shell below. A battery of artillery was embarking for the fortress. The tub-like transport lay hissing and whistling in the slip and the stamping of horses, the rumbling of gun and Kaysen, and the sharp cries of the officers came plainly to the ear. When the last Kaysen was aboard, and stowed, and the last trooper had sprung jingling to the deck. The transport puffed out into the shelter, and I turned away through the throng of promenaders, and found a little table on the terrace just outside of the pretty cafe. And as I sat down, I became aware of a girl at the next table, a girl all in white, the most ravishingly and distractingly pretty girl that I had ever seen. In the agitation of the moment, I forgot that I was a woman hater, I forgot my name, my fortune, my aunt, and the crimson diamond.

Starting point is 08:05:41 All these I've forgotten the purely human impulse to see clearly, and to that end I removed my monocle from my left eye. Some moments later I came to myself and feebly replaced it. It was too late. The mischief was done. I was not aware at first of the exact state of my feelings, for I had never before been in love, but I did know that at her request, I would have been proud to stand on my head or turn a flip-flap into the shelter. I did not stare at her, but I managed to see her most of the time when my eyes were on another direction. I found myself drinking something which a waiter brought

Starting point is 08:06:18 presumably upon an order which I did not remember having given. Later I noticed that it was a loathsome drink, which the Belgians call American grog, but I swallowed it and lighted cigarette. As the fragrant cloud rose in the air, a voice which I recognized with a chill, broke into my dream of enchantment. Could he have been there all the while? There sitting beside that vision in white? His hat was off, and the ocean breezes whispered about his bald head. His frayed coat-tails were folded, carefully over his knees, and between the thumb and forefinger over his left hand, he balanced a bad cigar. He looked at me in a mildly cheerful, way and said, I know now.

Starting point is 08:07:03 Know what? I asked, thinking it better to humour him, for I was convinced that he was mad. I know why cats bite. This was startling. I hadn't the vaguest idea what to say. I know why, he repeated. Can you guess why? There was a covert tone of triumph in his voice, and he smiled encouragement. Come, try and guess, he urged. I was uneasy. but I told him with stiff civility that I was equal to any problems. Listen, young man, he continued folding his coat tails closely about his legs. Try to reason it out. Why should cats bite?

Starting point is 08:07:44 Don't you know? I do. He looked at me anxiously. You take no interest in this problem, he demanded. Oh, yes. Then why do you not ask me why? he said, looking vaguely disappointed. Well, I said in desperation, why do cats bite? Hang it all, I thought. It's like a burnt court show, and I'm Mr. Bones, and he's Tambo. Then he smiled gently, young man, he said. Cats bite because they feed on catnip.

Starting point is 08:08:16 I've reasoned it out. I stared at him in blank astonishment. Was this benevolent-looking old party poking fun at me? Was he paying me up for the morning snub? was he a malignant and a revengeful old party or was he merely feeble-minded? Who might he be? What was he doing here in Antwerp? What was he doing now?

Starting point is 08:08:37 For the bald one had turned familiarly to the beautiful girl in white. Elsie, he said. Do you feel chilly? The girl shook her head. Not in the least, Papa. Good Lord, I thought. Her father? I've been to the zoo today, announced the bald one.

Starting point is 08:08:56 turning toward me. Ah, indeed, I observed. I trust you enjoyed it. I have been contemplating the apes, he continued dreamily. Yes, contemplating the apes. I said nothing, but tried to look interested. Yes, the apes, he murmured, fixing his mild eyes on me. Then he leaned toward me confidentially and whispered,

Starting point is 08:09:23 Can you tell me what a monkey thinks? I cannot, I replied sharply. Ah, he sighed, sinking back in his chair and patting the slender hand of the girl beside him. Ah, who can tell what a monkey thinks? His gentle face lulled my suspicions, and I replied very gravely, Who can tell whether they think at all? True, true? Who can tell whether they think at all?

Starting point is 08:09:51 And if they do think, ah? Who can tell what they think? But, I began, if you can't tell whether they think at all, what's the use of trying to conjecture what they would think if they did think? He raised his hand in deprecation. Ah, it is exactly that which is of such absorbing interest, exactly that. It is the obtuseness of the proposition which stimulates research, which stirs profoundly the brain of the thinking world.

Starting point is 08:10:21 The question is of vital and instant importance. possibly you have already formed an opinion. I submitted that I had thought but little on the subject. I doubt, he continued, swathing his knees in his coat tails. I doubt whether you have given much attention to the subject lately discussed by the Boston Dodo Society of Pythagorean Research. I'm not sure, I said politely, that I recall that particular discussion. I ask what was the question brought up? The fellus domesticus question.

Starting point is 08:10:56 Ah, that must indeed be interesting. And what may be the fellus do-do domesticus? Not do-do, fellus domesticus. The common or garden cat. Indeed, I murmured. You are not listening, he said. I only half heard him. I could not turn my eyes from her face.

Starting point is 08:11:21 cat shouted the bald one and i almost leapt from my chair are you deaf he inquired sympathetically no oh no i replied coloring with confusion you were pardon me you were speaking of the dodo extraordinary bird that i was not discussing the dodo he sighed i was speaking of cats of course i said the question is He continued twisting his frayed coat-tails into a sort of rope. The question is, how are we to ameliorate the present condition and social status of our domestic cats? Feed them, I suggested. He raised both hands. They were eloquent with patient expostulation. I mean their spiritual condition, he said. I nodded, but my eyes reverted to that exquisite face.

Starting point is 08:12:18 She sat silent. her eyes fixed on the waning flecks of colour in the western sky. Yes, repeated the bald one, the spiritual welfare of our domestic cats. Tom's and Tabbies, I murmured. Exactly, he said, tying a large knot in his coat-tails. You will ruin your coat, I observed. Papa, exclaimed the girl turning in dismay as the gentleman gave a guilty start. Stop it at once.

Starting point is 08:12:51 He smiled apologetically and made a feeble attempt to conceal his coat-tails. My dear, he said with gentle deprecation, I'm so absent-minded. I always do it in the heat of argument. The girl rose, and bending over her untidy parent, deftly untied the knot in his flapping coat. When he was disentangled, she sat down and said, with a ghost of a smile, he is so very absent-minded. Your father is evidently a great student, I said pleasant.

Starting point is 08:13:21 How I pitied her, tied to this lunatic. Yes, he is a great student, she said quietly. I am, he murmured. That's what makes me so absent-minded. I often go to bed and forget to sleep. Then looking at me, he asked me my name, adding with a bow, that his name was P. Royal Wyeth, Professor of Pythagorean Research, an abstruse paradox.

Starting point is 08:13:48 My first name is Penny, named after Professor Penney. of Harvard, he said. But I seldom use my first name in connection with my second, as the combination suggests a household remedy of penetrating odour. My name is Kensert, I said. Harold Kensert of New York. Student? Uh, a little. Student of diamonds, I smiled. Oh, I see you know who my great aunt was, I said. I know her, he said. Ah, perhaps you are unaware that my great aunt is not now living. I know her, he repeated obstinately. I bowed. What a crank he was. What do you study? You don't fiddle away all your time, do you? he asked. Now that was just what I did, but I was not pleased to have Miss Wythe know it. Although my time was chiefly spent in shooting and

Starting point is 08:14:44 fishing, I had once in a fit of energy succeeded in stuffing and mounting a woodcock. So I evaded, a humiliating confession by saying that I'd done a little work in ornithology. Good, cried the professor, beaming all over. I knew you were a fellow scientist. Possibly you are a brother member of the Boston Dodo Society, a Pythagorean research. Are you a dodo? I shook my head. No, I am not a dodo.

Starting point is 08:15:13 Only a J? A what? I said angrily. A J. We call the members of the junior ornithological's J society. of New York, J's, just as we refer to ourselves as dodo's. Are you not even a J? I am not, I said, watching him suspiciously. I must convert you, I see, said the professor smiling.

Starting point is 08:15:35 I'm afraid I do not approve of Pythagorean research, I began, but the beautiful Miss Wyeth turned to me very seriously and looked me frankly in the eyes, said, I trust you will be open to conviction. Good Lord, I thought. Can she be another crank? I looked at her steadily. What a little beauty she was.

Starting point is 08:15:57 She also then belonged to the Pythagorians, a sect of despised. Everybody knows all about the Pythagorean craze. Its rise in Boston, its rapid spread, and its subsequent consolidation with Theosophy, Heimpetism, the Salvation Army, the Shakers, the Dunkards, and the Mind Cure cult upon a business basis.

Starting point is 08:16:19 I had hitherto regarded all Pythagorean, with the same scornful indifference which I accorded to the faith curists. Being a member of the Catholic Church, I was scarcely prepared to take any of them seriously. Least of all did I approve of the business basis, and I looked very much askance, indeed at the scientific and religious trust company, duly incorporated and generally known as the Pythagorean Trust, which, consolidating with mind-curists, faith curists, and other flourishing salvation syndicates, actually claimed a place among ordinary trusts, and at the same time pretended to a control over man's future life. No, I could never listen. I was ashamed of even entertaining the notion, and I shook my head. No, Miss Wythe, I'm afraid I do not care to listen to any reasoning on the subject.

Starting point is 08:17:08 Don't you believe in Pythagoras? demanded the professor, subduing his excitement with difficulty, and adding another knot to his coat-tails. No, I said, I do not. How do you know you don't? inquired the professor. Because, I said firmly, it is nonsense to say that the soul of a human being can inhabit a hen. Put it in a more simplified form, insisted the professor. Do you not believe that the soul of a hen can inhabit a human being? No, I don't.

Starting point is 08:17:39 Did you ever hear of a hen pegged man? cried the professor, his voice ending in a shout. I nodded, intensely annoyed. Would you listen to reason then? He continued eagerly. No, I began, but I caught Miss Wyss' blue eyes fixed on mine with an expression so sad, so sweetly appealing, that I faltered. Yes, I will listen, I said faintly. Would you become my pupil? insisted the professor.

Starting point is 08:18:07 I was shocked to find myself wavering, but my eyes were looking into hers, and I could not disobey what I read there. The longer I looked, the greater inclination I felt to waver. I saw that I was going to give in, and, strangest of all, my conscience did not trouble me. I felt it coming. A sort of mild exhilaration took possession of me. For the first time in my life I became reckless. I even gloried in my recklessness. Yes, yes, I cried, leaning eagerly across the table.

Starting point is 08:18:38 I shall be glad, delighted. Would you take me as your pupil? My single eyeglass fell from its position unheeded. Take me! Oh, would you take me? me, I cried. Instead of answering, the professor blinked rapidly at me for a moment. I imagined his eyes had grown bigger and were assuming a greenish tinge. The corners of his mouth began to quiver, emitting queer, caressing little noises, and he rapidly added knot after knot to his twitching

Starting point is 08:19:06 coat tails. Suddenly he bent forward across the table until his nose almost touched mine. The pupils of his eyes expanded, the iris assuming a beautiful changing golden green tinge and his coat-tails twitched violently. Then he began to mew. I strove to rouse myself from my paralysis. I tried to shrink back, for I felt the end of his cold nose touch mine. I could not move. The cry of terror died in my straining throat.

Starting point is 08:19:37 My hands tightened convulsively. I was incapable of speech or motion. At the same time, my brain became wonderfully clear. I began to remember everything that. that had ever happened to me, everything that I had ever done or said. I even remembered things that I had neither done nor said. I recalled distinctly much that had never happened. How fresh and strong my memory!

Starting point is 08:20:01 The past was like a mirror, crystal clear, and there, in glorious tints and hues, the scenes of my childhood grew and glowed and faded and gave place to newer and more splendid scenes. For a moment the episode of the Cat at the Hotel San Antoine flashed across my mind. When it vanished, a chilly stupor slowly clouded my brain. The scenes, the memories, the brilliant colours faded, leaving me enveloped in a grey vapour, through which the two great eyes of the professor twinkled with a murky light.

Starting point is 08:20:34 A peculiar longing stirred me, a strange yearning for something. I knew not what, but, oh, how I longed and yearned for it. Slowly, this indefinite, incomprehensible longing became a living pain. Ah, how I suffered, and how the vapors seemed to crowd around me. Then, as at a great distance, I heard her voice, sweet, imperative. Mew, she said. For a moment I seemed to see the interior of my own skull, lighted as by a flash of fire, the rolling eyeballs veined in scarlet, the glistening muscles quivering along the jaw,

Starting point is 08:21:13 the humid masses of the convoluted brain. an awful darkness, a darkness almost tangible, an utter blackness through which now seemed to creep a thin silver thread, like a river crawling across a world, like a thought gliding to the brain, like a song, a thin, sharp song which some distant voice was singing, which I was singing, and I knew that I was mewing. I threw myself back in the chair and mewed with all my heart. Oh, that heavy load which was lifted from my breast! How good! How satisfying! it was to mew, and how I did mew, I gave myself up to it, heart and soul, my whole being thrilled with the passionate outpourings of a spirit freed, my voice trembled in the upper bars of a feline love-song, quavered, descended, swelling again into an intimation that I brooked no rival,

Starting point is 08:22:06 and ended with a magnificent crescendo. I finished, somewhat abashed, and glanced a scantzance at the professor and his daughter, but the one sat nonchulently disentangling his coattails, and the other was apparently absorbed in the distant landscape. Evidently, they did not consider me ridiculous. Flushing painfully, I turned in my chair to see how my gruesome solo had affected the people on the terrace. Nobody even looked at me. This, however, gave me little comfort, for, as I began to realize what I had done,

Starting point is 08:22:38 my mortification and rage knew no bounds. I was ready to die of shame. What on earth had induced me to mew? I looked wildly about for escape. I would leap up, rush home to bury my burning face in my pillows, and later in the friendly cabin of a homeward-bound steamer. I would fly, fly at once! Woe to the man who blocked my way!

Starting point is 08:23:00 I started to my feet, but at that moment I caught Miss Wiles' eyes fixed on me. Don't go, she said. What in earth's name! Lay in those blue eyes! I slowly sank back into my chair. Then the professor spoke. Elsie, I've just received the dispatch. Where from, Papa?

Starting point is 08:23:20 From India. I'm going at once. She nodded ahead without turning her eyes from the sea. Is it important, Papa? I should say so. The cashier of the trust has eloped with an astral body and has taken all our funds, including a lot of first mortgages on Nirvana.

Starting point is 08:23:38 I suppose he's been dabbling in futures, and was short in his accounts. I shan't be gone long. Then good night, Papa, she said, kissing him, try to be back by eleven. I sat stupidly staring at them. Oh, it's only to Bombay. I shan't go to Tibet tonight. Good night, my dear, said the professor.

Starting point is 08:24:00 Then a singular thing occurred. The professor had at last succeeded in disentangling his coat tails, and now jamming his hat over his ears, and waving his arms with a bat-longed. like motion. He climbed upon the seat of the chair and ejaculated the word, presto. Then I found my voice. Stop him, I cried in terror. Presto, presto! shouted the professor, balancing himself on the edge of his chair and waving his arms majestically as if preparing for a sudden flight across the shalt, and firmly convinced that he not only meditated it,

Starting point is 08:24:35 but was perfectly capable of attempting it. I covered my eyes with my hands. ill, Mr. Kensett, said the girl quietly. I raised my head indignantly. Not at all, Miss Withe. Only I'll bid you good evening, for this is the 19th century, and I'm a Christian. So am I, she said. So is my father. The devil he is, I thought. Her next words made me jump. Please do not be profane, Mr. Kensit. How did she know I was profane? I had not spoken a word. Could it be possible she was able to read my thoughts. This was too much, and I rose and bowed stiffly. I have the honour to bid you good evening, I began, and reluctantly turned to include the professor, expecting to see that gentleman balancing himself on his chair. The professor's chair was

Starting point is 08:25:29 empty. Oh, said the girl faintly, my father is gone. Gone? Where? To India, I believe. I sank helplessly into my own chair. I did not think he will stay very long. He promised to return by eleven, she said timidly. I tried to realise the purport of it all. Gone to India? Gone? How? What a broomstick. Good heavens, I murmured. Am I sane? Perfectly, she said, and I am tired. You may take me back to the hotel. I scarcely heard her. I was feebly attempting to gather up my numbed wits. Slowly I began to comprehend the situation, to review the startling and humiliating events of the day. At noon in the court of the Hotel St Antoine, I had been annoyed by a man and a cat. I'd retired to my own room and had slept until dinner.

Starting point is 08:26:27 In the evening I met two tourists on the seawall promenade. I'd been beguiled into conversation. Yes, into intimacy with these two tourists. I'd had the intention of embracing the faith of Bithagoras. Then I amued like a cat with all the strength of my lungs. Then the male tourist vanishes, and leaves me in charge of the female tourists, alone and at night in a strange city. And now the female tourist proposes that I take her home. With a remnant of self-possession, I groped for my eyeglass, seized it, screwed it firmly into my eye, and looked long and earnestly at the girl.

Starting point is 08:27:05 As I looked, my eyes softened. my monocle dropped, and I forgot everything in the beauty and purity of the face before me. My heart began to beat against my stiff-white waistcoat. Had I dared? Yes. Dared to think of this wondrous little beauty as a female tourist? Her pale, sweet face turned toward the sea, seemed to cast a spell upon the night. How loud my heart was beating! The yellow moon floated, half-dipping in the sea, flooding land and water with enchanted. light. Wind and waves seemed to feel the spell of her eyes, for the breeze died away. The heaving shelved tossed noiselessly, and the dark Dutch luggers swung idly on the tide with every sail

Starting point is 08:27:50 a droop. A sudden hush fell over the land and water. The voices on the promenade were stilled. Little by little the shadowy throng, the terrace, the sea itself vanished, and I only saw her face shadowed against the moon. It seemed as if I had drifted miles above the earth, through all space and eternity, and there was naught between me and high heaven, but that white face. Ah, how I loved her. I knew it. I never doubted it. Could years of passionate adoration touch her heart, her little heart, now beating so calmly with no thought of love, to startle it from its quiet and send it fluttering against the gentle breast? In her lap her clasped hands tightened, her eyelids drooped, as though some pleasant thought was passing. I saw the color dye her temples. I saw the blue

Starting point is 08:28:44 eyes turn, half frightened to my own. I saw, and I knew she had read my thoughts. Then we both rose, side by side, and she was weeping softly, yet from my life I dared not speak. She turned away touching your eyes with a bit of lace, and I sprang to her side and offered her my arm. You cannot go back alone, I said. She did not take my arm. Do you hate me, Miss Wyeth? I am very tired, she said. I must go home. You cannot go alone. I do not care to accept your escort. Then you send me away? No, she said in a hard voice. You can come if you like. You can come if you like so i humbly attended her to the hotel st antoine end of section thirty eight recorded by adrian stroet turks and caicos islands section thirty nine of the maker of moons and other stories this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librovox dot org recording by adrian stroate turks and caecos islands the maker of moons and other stories by robert w chambers section thirty nine the man at the next table

Starting point is 08:30:29 as we reached the place verty and turned into the court of the hotel the sound of the midnight bells swept over the city and the horse-car jingled slowly by on its last trip to the railway station we passed the fountain bubbling and splashing in the mootlit court and cross in the square enter the southern wing of the hotel at the foot of the stairway she leaned for an instant against the banisters i'm afraid we have walked too fast i said she turned to me coldly no conventionalities must be observed you were quite right in escaping as soon as possible but i protested i assure you She gave a little movement of impatience. Don't, she said. You tire me. Conventionalities tire me. Be satisfied.

Starting point is 08:31:22 Nobody's seen you. You are cruel, I said in a low voice. What do you think I care for, conventionalities? You care everything. You care what people think, and you try to do what they say is good form. You never did such an original thing in your life as you have just done. You wrecked my thoughts.

Starting point is 08:31:43 I exclaimed bitterly. It is not fair. Fair or not. I know what you consider me. Ill-bred, common, pleased with any sort of attention. Oh, why should I waste one word? One thought on you. Miss Wyeth, I began, but she interrupted me.

Starting point is 08:32:04 Would you dare tell me what you think of me? Would you dare tell me what you think of my father? I was silent. She turned and mounted two steps. of the stairway then faced me again. Do you think it was for my own pleasure that I permitted myself to be left alone with you? Do you imagine that I am flattered by your attention? Do you venture to think I ever could be? How dare you think what you did think there on the seawall? I cannot help my thoughts, I replied. You turned on me like a tiger when you awoke from your trance.

Starting point is 08:32:40 Do you really suppose that you nude? Are you not? aware that my father hypnotized you. No, I did not know it, I said, the hot blood tingling in my fingertips, and I looked angrily at her. Why do you imagine that I waste my time on you? She said. Your vanity has answered that question. Now let your intelligence answer it. I am a Pythagorean. I've been chosen to bring in a convert, and you were the convert selected for me by the Mahatmas of the Consolidated Trust Company. I've followed you from New York to Antwerp, as I was bidden, but now my courage fails,

Starting point is 08:33:20 and I shrink from fulfilling my mission, knowing you to be the type of man you are, if I could give you up, if I could only go away, never, never again to see you. Ah, I fear they will not permit it, until my mission is accomplished. Why was I chosen?

Starting point is 08:33:38 I, with a woman's heart and a woman, pride i-i hate you i love you i said slowly she paled and looked away answer me i said her wide blue eyes turned back again and i held them with mine at last she slowly drew a long-stemmed rose from the bunch at her belt turned and mounted the shadowy staircase for a moment i thought i saw her pause on the landing above but the moonlight was uncertain after waiting for a long time in vain i moved away and in going raised my hand to my face but i stopped short and my heart stopped too for a moment in my hand i held a long-stemmed rose with my brain in a whirl i crept across the court and mounted the stairs to my room hour after hour i walked the floor slowly at first and then more rapidly but it brought no calm to the fierce tumult of my thoughts and at last i dropped into a chair before the empty fireplace bearing my head in my hands uncertain shocked and deadly weary i tried to think i strove to bring order out of the chaos in my brain but i only sat staring at the long-stemmed rose slowly i began to take a vague pleasure in its heavy perfume and once i crushed a leaf between my palms and bending over drank in the fragrance twice my lamp flickered and went out and twice treading softly i crossed the room to relight it twice i threw open the door thinking that i heard some sound without how close the air was how heavy and hot And what was that strange subtle odour which had sensibly filled the room?

Starting point is 08:35:24 It grew stronger and more penetrating and I began to dislike it. And to escape it I buried my nose in the half-open rose. Horror! The odour came from the rose! And the rose itself was no longer a rose. Not even a flower now. It was only a bunch of catnip! And I dashed it to the floor and grounded under my heel.

Starting point is 08:35:46 Montebank! I cried in a rage. My anger grew cold and I shivered, drawn perforce to the curtain window. Something was there, outside. I could not hear it, for it made no sound, but I knew it was there, watching me. What was it? The damp hair stirred on my head. I touched the heavy curtains.

Starting point is 08:36:09 Whatever was outside them sprang up, tore at the window, and then rushed away. Feeling very shaky, I crept to the window, opened it and leaned down. out. The night was calm. I heard the fountain splashing in the moonlight, and the sea winds sowing through the palms. Then I closed the window and turned back into the room. And as I stood there a sudden breeze, which could not have come from without, blew sharply in my face extinguishing the candle and sending the long curtains, bellying out into the room. The lamp on the table flashed and smoked and sputtered. The room was littered with flying papers and catnip leaves. then the strange wind died away and somewhere in the night a cat snarled i turned desperately to my trunk and flung it open into it i threw everything i owned pell-mell closed the lid locked it and seized my mackintosh and travelling bag ran down the stairs crossed the court and entered the night office of the hotel there i called up the sleepy clerk settled my reckoning and sent a porter for a cab now i said what time

Starting point is 08:37:18 does the next train leave? The next train for where? Anywhere? The clerk locked the safe and carefully keeping the desk between himself and me motioned the office boy to look at the timetables. Next train, 210, Brussels, Paris, read the boy. At that moment the cab rattled up by the curbstone and I sprang in while the porter tossed my traps on top. Away we bumped over the stony pavement, past street after street lighted dimly by tall gas lamps, an alley after alley, brudent with the glare of villainous all-night cafe concerts, and then turning, we rumbled past the circus and the Alderado, and at last stopped with a jolt before the Brussels station.

Starting point is 08:38:04 I had not a moment to lose. Paris! I cried. First class! And pocketed the book of coupons, hurried across the platform to where the Brussels train lay. A guard came round. running up, flung open the door of a first-class carriage, slammed and locked it, after I'd jumped in, and the long train glided from the arch station out into the starlit morning. I was all alone in the compartment. The wretched lamp and the roof flickered dimly, scarcely light in the stuffy box.

Starting point is 08:38:35 I could not see to read my timetable, so I wrapped my legs in the travelling rug and lay back, staring out into the misty morning. Trees, walls, telegraph poles, flat. passed, and the cinders drove in showers against the rattling windows. I slept at times, fitfully, and once, springing up, peered sharply at the opposite seat, possessed with the idea that someone was there. When the train reached Brussels, I was sound asleep, and the guard awoke me with difficulty. "'Breakfast, sir?' he iced. "'Anything,' I sighed, and stepped out to the platform, rubbing my legs and shivering.

Starting point is 08:39:16 The other passengers were already breakfasting in the station cafe, and I joined them and managed to swallow a cup of coffee and a roll. The morning broke, grey and cloudy, and I bundled myself into my Macintosh for a tramp along the platform. Up and down I stamped, puffing a cigar and digging my hands deep in my pockets, while the other passengers huddled into the warmer compartments of the train or stood watching the luggage being lifted into the forward mail carriage. The weight was very long.

Starting point is 08:39:46 the hands of the great clock pointed to six and still the train lay motionless along the platform i approached a guard and asked him whether anything was wrong accident on the line he replied monsieur had better go to his compartment and try to sleep for we may be delayed until noon i followed the guard's advice and crawled into my corner wrapped myself in the rug and lay back watching the raindrops spattering along the window-sill at noon the train had not moved and i lunched in the compartment at four o'clock in the afternoon the station-master came hurrying along the platform crying montes montes monsieur dame sibelpley and the train steamed out of the station and whirled away through the flat treeless belgian plains At times I dozed, but the shaking of the car always awoke me, and I would sit blinking out at the endless stretch of plane until a sudden flurry of rain blotted the landscape from my eyes. At last, a long shrill whistle from the engine, a jolt, a series of bumps, and an apparition of red trousers and bayonets warned me that we had arrived at the French frontier. I turned out with the others and opened my valise for inspection, but the customs officials, merely chalked it without examination, and I hurried back to my compartment amid the shouting of guards and the clanging of station bells. Again I found that I was alone in the compartment, so I smoked a cigarette, thanked heaven, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Starting point is 08:41:19 How long I slept, I do not know, but when I awoke the train was roaring through a tunnel. When again it flashed out into the open country, I peered through the grimy, rain-stained window, and saw that the storm had ceased and stars were twinked. in the sky. I stretched my legs, yawned, pushed my travelling cap back from my forehead, and stumbled to my feet, walked up and down the compartment until my cramped muscles were relieved. Then I sat down again, and, lighting a cigar, puffed great rings and clouds of fragrant smoke across the aisle. The train was flying, the cars lurched and shook, and the windows rattled accompaniment to the creaking panels. The smoke from my cigar did. dimmed the lamp in the ceiling and hid the opposite seat from view. How it curled and writhed in the

Starting point is 08:42:10 corners, now eddying upward, now floating across the aisle like a veil. I lounged back in my cushioned seat, watching it with interest. What queer shapes it took, how thick it was becoming, how strangely luminous. Now it had filled the whole compartment, puff after puff, crowding upward, waving, wavering, clouding the windows and blotting the lamp from sight. It was most interesting. I'd never before smoked such a cigar. What an extraordinary brand. I examined the end, flicking the ashes away.

Starting point is 08:42:47 The cigar was out. Fumbling for a match to relight it, my eyes fell on the drifting smoke curtain, which swayed across the corner opposite. It seemed almost tangible. Now like a real curtain, it hung grey, impenetrable. A man might hide behind it. Then an idea came into my head, and it persisted until my uneasiness amounted to a vague terror. I tried to fight it off. I strove to resist, but the conviction

Starting point is 08:43:16 slowly settled upon me that something was behind that smoke veil, something which had entered the compartment while I slept. It can't be, I muttered, my eyes fixed on the misty drapery. The train is not stopped. The car creaked and trembled. I sprang to my feet and swept my arm through the veil of smoke. Then my hair slowly rose on my head, for my hand touched another hand and my eyes had met two other eyes. My senses reeled. I heard a voice in the gloom low and sweet, calling me by name. I saw the eyes again. Tender and blue, soft fingers touched my own. I used. I heard a voice in the gloom, low and sweet, calling me by name. I saw the eyes again. tender and blue, soft fingers touched my own. Are you afraid? she said.

Starting point is 08:44:04 My heart began to beat again, and my face warmed with returning blood. It is only I, she said gently. I seemed to hear my own voice speaking as if at a great distance. You hear, alone? How cruel of you, she faltered. I am not alone. At the same instant my eyes fell upon the professing. Kepa, calmly seated by the further window. His hands were thrust into the folds of a corded and

Starting point is 08:44:32 tasseled dressing-gown, from beneath which peeped two enormous feet, encased in carpet slippers. Upon his head towered a yellow nightcap. He did not pay the slightest attention to either me or his daughter, and except for the lighted cigar which he kept shifting between his lips, he might have been taken for a wax dummy. Then I began to speak, feebly, hesitating like. like a child. How did you come into this compartment? You do not possess wings, I suppose. You could not have been here all the time. Would you explain? Explain to me. See, I ask you very humbly, for I do not understand. This is the 19th century, and these things don't fit in. I'm wearing a Dunlap hat. I've got a copy of the New York Herald in my

Starting point is 08:45:26 bag. President Cleveland is alive and everything is so very commonplace in the world. Is this real magic? Perhaps I'm filled with hallucinations. Perhaps I'm sleeping and dreaming. Perhaps you are not really here. Nor I, nor anybody, nor anything. The train plunged into a tunnel and when again it dashed out from the other end. The cold wind blew furiously in my face from the further window. It was wide open. The professor was gone. Papa has changed to another compartment, she said quietly. I think perhaps you were beginning to bore him. Her eyes met mine, and she smiled faintly. Are you very much bewildered? I looked at her in silence. She sat very quietly, her white hands clasped above her knee, her curly hair glittering to her girdle. A long

Starting point is 08:46:26 robe, almost silvery in the twilight, clung to her young figure. Her bare feet were thrust deep into a pair of shimmering eastern slippers. When you fled, she sighed, I was asleep and there was no time to lose. I barely had a moment to go to Bombay, to find Papa, and return in time to join you. This is an East Indian costume. Still, I was silent. Are you shocked? She said simply. No, I replied in a dull voice. I'm past that. You are very rude, she said, with the tears starting to arise. I do not mean to be. I only wish to go away, away somewhere and find out what my name is. Your name is Harold Kensett. Are you sure? I asked eagerly, yes. What troubles you? Is everything plain to you? Is everything plain to you?

Starting point is 08:47:26 Are you a sort of profit and second-sight medium? Is nothing hidden from you? I asked. Nothing, she faltered. My head ate, and I clasped it in my hand. A sudden change came over her. I am human. Believe me, she said with piteous eagerness. Indeed, I do not seem strange to those who understand.

Starting point is 08:47:52 You wonder, because you left me at midnight in Antwerp, and you wake to find me here. If, because I find myself reincarnated, endowed with senses and capabilities which few at present possess, if I am so made, why should it seem strange? It is all so natural to me.

Starting point is 08:48:12 If I appear to you, appear? Yes, Elsie, I cried. Can you vanish? Yes, she murmured. Does it seem to you unwomanly? great heaven I groaned don't she cried with tears in her voice oh please don't help me to bear it if you only knew how awful it is to be different from other girls how mortifying it is to me to be able to vanish oh how I hate and detest it all don't cry I said looking at her pityingly oh dear me she sobbed you shudder at the sight of me because I can vanish. I don't, I cried. Yes, you do. You abhor me. You shrink away. Oh, why did I ever see you? Why did you ever come into my life? What have I done in ages past that now reborn I suffer cruelly?

Starting point is 08:49:11 Cruely. What do you mean? I whispered. My voice trembled with happiness. I? Nothing, but you think me a fabled monster. Elsie, my sweet Elsie, I said. I don't think you're a fabled monster. I love you. See? See? I'm at your feet.

Starting point is 08:49:38 Listen to me, my darling. She turned her blue eyes to mine. I saw tears sparkling on the curved lashes. Elsie, I love you, I said again. slowly she raised her white hands to my head and held it a moment, looking at me strangely. Then her face grew nearer to my own. Her glittering hair fell over my shoulders, her lips rested on mine. In that long, sweet kiss, the beating of her heart answered mine.

Starting point is 08:50:10 And I learned a thousand truths, wonderful, mysterious, splendid. But when our lips fell apart, the memory of what I learned departed all. Also, it was so very simple and beautiful, she sighed. And I, I never saw it. But the Mahatmas knew, they knew that my mission could only be accomplished through love. And it is, I whispered. For you shall teach me, me, your husband. And you will not be impatient.

Starting point is 08:50:48 You will try to believe. I will believe what you tell me, my sweetheart. Even about cats. Before I could reply, the further window opened, and a yellow nightcap followed by the professor entered from somewhere without. Elsie sank back on her sofa, but the professor needed not to be told,

Starting point is 08:51:11 and we both knew he was already busily reading our thoughts. For a moment there was dead silence. long enough for the professor that grasped the full significance of what had passed, then he uttered a single exclamation. Oh. After a while, however, he looked at me for the first time that evening, saying, Congratulations you, Mr. Kensett, I'm sure. Tied several knots in the court of his dressing-gown,

Starting point is 08:51:39 lied to a cigar, and paid no further attention to either of us. Some moments later, he opened the window again and disappeared. I looked across the aisle at Elsie. You may come over beside me, she said shyly. End of Section 39. Read by Adrian Stroet, Turks and Caicos Islands. Section 40 of the Maker of Moons and Other Stories. This is Libravox recording.

Starting point is 08:52:25 All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visitlibrovox.org. recorded by adrian stroet turkent kakos islands the maker of moons and other stories by robert w chambers section forty the man at the next table it was nearly ten o'clock and our train was rapidly approaching paris we passed village after village wrapped in mist station after station hung with twinkling red and blue and yellow lanterns then sped on again with the echo of the switch bells ringing in our ears when at length the train slowed up and stopped i opened the window and looked out upon a long wet platform shining under the electric lights a guard came running by throwing open the doors of each compartment and crying paris next tickets if you please i handed him my book of coupons from which he tore several and handed it back then he lifted his lantern appeared into the compartment saying is monsieur alone i turned to elsie He wants your ticket. Give it to me. What's that? demanded the guard. I looked anxiously at Elsie. If your father has the tickets, I began, but was interrupted by the guard who snapped,

Starting point is 08:53:48 Monsieur will give himself the trouble to understand that I do not understand English. Keep quiet, I said sharply in French. I'm not speaking to you. The guard stared stupidly at me, then at my luggage and finally entered the car, knelt down and peered under the seats. presently he got up very red in the face and went out slamming the door he had not paid the slightest attention to elsie but i distinctly heard him say only englishmen and idiots talk to themselves elsie i faltered do you mean to say that guard could not see you she began to look so serious again that i merely added never mind i don't care whether you are invisible or not dearest i'm not invisible to you she said. Why should you care? The great noise of bells and whistles drowned our voices and amid the whirring of switch bells, the hissing of steam and the cries of Paris, all out, our train glided into the station. It was the professor who opened the door of our carriage. There he stood calmly adjusting his yellow nightcap and drawing his dressing gown closer with the corded tassels. Where have you been? I asked.

Starting point is 08:55:03 on the engine. In the engine, I suppose you mean, I said. No, I don't. I mean on the engine. On the pilot. It was very refreshing. Where are we going now? Do you know Paris? I asked Elsie, turning to me. Yes. I think your father had better take you to the Hotel Normandy on the Rue de Leschelle. But you must stay there too. Of course, if you wish. She laughed nervously. Don't you see that my father and I could not take rooms now? You must engage three rooms for yourself. Why? I asked stupidly. Oh dear. Why? Because we are invisible.

Starting point is 08:55:46 I tried to repress a shudder. The professor gave Elsie his arm, and as I studied his ensemble, I thanked Heaven that he was invisible. At the gate of the station, I hailed a four-seated cab, and we rattled away through the stony streets, brilliant with gas jets, moments rolled smoothly across the avenue the opera turned into the rue de la chelle and stopped a bright little page all over buttons came out took my luggage and preceded us into the hallway i with elsie on my arm and the professor shuffling along beside me walked over to the desk room we have a very desirable room on the second fronting the rue st honours but we that is i want three rooms three separate rooms rooms, I said. The clerk scratched his chin. Monser is expecting friends. Say yes,

Starting point is 08:56:41 whispered Elsie with a suspicion of laughter in her voice. Yes, I repeated feebly. Gentlemen, of course, said the clerk, looking at me narrowly. One lady. Married, of course. What's that to you? I said sharply. What do you mean by speaking to us? Us? I mean to me. I mean to me. I said, badly rattled. Give me the rooms and let me get to bed, will you? Once sir will remember, said the clerk coldly, that this is an old and respectable hotel. I know it, I said, smothering my rage.

Starting point is 08:57:19 The clerk eyed me suspiciously. Front, he called, with irritating deliberation. Show this gentleman to apartment ten. How many rooms are there? I demanded three sleeping room, and a parlour. I will take it, I said with composure, on probation, muttered the clerk insolently.

Starting point is 08:57:42 Swallowing the insult, I followed the bellboy up the stairs, keeping between him and Elsie, for I dreaded to see him walk through her as if she were thin air. A trim maid rose to meet us and conducted us through a hallway into a large apartment. She threw open all the bedroom doors and said, will Monsur have the goodness to choose? Which will you take? I began turn into Elsie.

Starting point is 08:58:06 I, Monsor? cried the startled maid. That completely upset me. Here, I muttered, slipping some silver into her hand. Now, for the love of heaven, run away. When she had vanished with a doubtful, Merci, Monser, I handed the professor the keys and asked him to settle the thing with Elsie.

Starting point is 08:58:27 Elsie took the corner room, The professor rambled into the next one, and I said good night and crept warily into my own chamber. I sat down and tried to think. A great feeling of fatigue weighted my spirits. I could think better with my clothes off, I said, and slipped the coat from my shoulders. How tired I was. I could think better in bed, I muttered, flinging my cravat on the dresser and tossing my shirt studs after it. I was certainly very tired.

Starting point is 08:58:56 Now, I yawned, grasping the pillow and drawing it under my head. Now I can think of it. But before my head fell on the pillow, sleep closed my eyes. I began to dream at once. It seemed as though my eyes were wide open, and the professor was standing beside my bed. Young man, he said, you've won my daughter, and you must pay the piper. What piper? I said.

Starting point is 08:59:25 The pied piper of Hamlin. I don't think, replied the professor, vulgarly. And before I could realize what he was doing, he had drawn a reed pipe from his dressing gown, and was playing a strangely annoying air. Then an awful thing occurred. Cats began to troop into the room. Cats by the hundred, tombs and tabbies,

Starting point is 08:59:45 grey, yellow, maltese, Persian, manks, all purring and all marching round and round, rubbing against the furniture, the professor, and even against me. I struggled with the nightmare. Take them away, I tried to gasp. Nonsense, he said. Here is an old friend.

Starting point is 09:00:04 I saw the white tabby cat of the Hotel St Antoine. An old friend, he repeated, and played a dismal melody on his reed. I saw Elsie enter the room, lift the white tabby in her arms and bring her to my side. Shake hands with him, she commanded. To my horror, the tabby deliberately extended a pore and tapped me on the knuckers. oh i cried in agony this is a horrible dream why i why can't i wake yes she said dropping the cat it is partly a dream but some of it is real remember what i say my darling you want to go to-morrow morning and meet the twelve o'clock train from antwerp at the gare du nord papa and i are coming to paris on that train don't you know that we are not really here now you silly boy good-night then I should be very glad to see you.

Starting point is 09:00:59 I saw her glide from the room, followed by the professor, playing a gay quick step to which the cats danced two and two. Good night, sir, said each cat as it passed my bed, and I dreamed no more. When I awoke, the room, the bed, had vanished. I was in the street, walking rapidly. The sun shone down on the broad white pavements of Paris, and the streams of busy life flowed past me on either side. How swiftly I was walking. Where the devil was I going? Surely I had business somewhere that needed immediate attention. I tried to remember when I had awakened, but I could not. I wondered where I had dressed myself. I had apparently taken great pains with my toilet, for I was immaculate, monocle and all, even down to the long-stemmed rose nestling in my buttonhole. I knew Paris had recognised the streets through which I was hurrying. Where could I be going? What was my hurry?

Starting point is 09:01:56 i glanced at my watch and found that i had not a moment to lose then as the bells of the city rang out midday i hastened into the railway station on the rue la fayette and walked out to the platform and as i looked down the glittering track around a distant curve shot a locomotive followed by a long line of cars near it nearer it came while the station gong sounded and the switch bells began ringing all along the track antwerp express cried the sous chef de garre and as the train slipped along the tile platform. I sprang upon the steps of a first-class carriage and threw open the door. How do you do, Mr. Kensett? said Elsie Wife, springing lightly to the platform. Really, it's very nice of you to come to the train. At the same moment, a bald, mild-eyed gentleman emerged from the depths of the same compartment carrying a large covered basket. How are you, Kensit? He said. Glad to see you again. Rather warm in that compartment. no i will not trust this basket or an expressman give miss wyth your arm and i'll follow we go to the normandy i believe all the morning i had elsie to myself and at dinner i sat beside her with the professor opposite the latter was cheerful enough but he nearly ruined my dinner for he smelt strongly of catnip

Starting point is 09:03:13 after dinner he became restless and fidgeted about in his chair until coffee was brought and we went up to the parlour of his apartment here his restlessness increased to such an extent that I ventured to ask him if he was in good health. It's that basket. The covered basket which I have in the next room, he said. What's the trouble with the basket? I asked. The basket's all right, but the contents worry me. May I inquire what the contents are, I ventured. The professor rose.

Starting point is 09:03:44 Yes, he said. You may inquire of my daughter. He left the room but reappeared shortly carrying a saucer of milk. I watched him enter the next room. which was mine. What on earth is he taking that into my room for? I asked Elsie. I don't keep cats. But you will, she said. I? Never. You will if I ask you to, but, but you won't ask me. But I do. Elcy, Harold, I detest cats. You must not. I can't help it. You will when I ask it. Have I not given myself to you? Would you not make a little sacrifice for me? I don't understand. Would you refuse my first request?

Starting point is 09:04:31 No, I said miserably. I will keep dozens of cats. I do not ask that. I only wish that you keep one. Was that what your father had in that basket? I asked suspiciously. Yes, the basket came from Antwerp. What? The white Antwerp cat, I cried. Yes. And you asked me to keep you. that cat oh Elsie listen she said I have a long story to tell you come nearer close to me you say you love me I bent and kissed her then I shall put you to the proof she murmured prove me listen that cat is the same cat that ran out of the apartment in the Waldorf when your great aunt ceased to exist in human shape my father and myself have received word

Starting point is 09:05:23 from the Mahatmas of the Trust Company, sheltered and cherished the cat. We were ordered by the Mahatmas to convert you. The task was appalling, but there is no such thing as refusing a command, and we laid our plans. That man with a white spot in his hair was my father. What? Your father is bald. He wore a wig then. The white spot came from dropping chemicals on the wig while experimenting with a substance,

Starting point is 09:05:52 which you could not comprehend. Then... Then that clue was useless. But who could have taken the crimson diamond? And who was the man with the white spot on his head who tried to sell the stone in Paris? That was my father. He...

Starting point is 09:06:08 He... He... Took the crimson diamond, I cried aghast. Yes and no. That was only a paste stone that he had in Paris. It was to draw you over here. He had the real crimson diamond also. your father yes he has it in the next room now can you not see how it disappeared harold why the cat swallowed it do you mean to say that the white tabby swallowed the crimson diamond

Starting point is 09:06:37 by mistake she tried to get it out of the velvet bag and as the bag was also full of catnip she could not resist a mouthful and unfortunately just then you broke in the door and so startled the cat that she swallowed the crimson diamond There was a painful pause. At last I said, Elsie, as you are able to vanish, I suppose you also are able to converse with cats. I am, she replied, trying to keep back the tears of mortification. And that cat told you this. She did. And my crimson diamond is inside that cat. It is. Then, said I firmly, I am going to chloroform the cat.

Starting point is 09:07:22 cat, Harold, she cried in terror. That cat is your great aunt. I don't know to this day how I stood the shock of that announcement, or how I managed to listen while Elsie tried to explain the transgression theory, but it was all Chinese to me. I only knew that I was a blood relation of a cat and the thought nearly drove me mad. Try, my darling, try to love her, whispered Elsie. She must be very precious to you. Yes, with my diamond inside her, I replied faintly. You must not neglect her, said Elsie. Oh, no, I'll always have my eye on her.

Starting point is 09:08:05 I mean, I will surround her with luxury. Milk and bones and catnip and books. Does she read? Not the books that human beings read. Now go and speak to your aunt, Harold. Hey? How the deuce, go. For my sake, try to be cordial.

Starting point is 09:08:24 She rose and led me unresistingly to the door of my room. Good heavens, I groaned. This is awful. Courage, my darling, she whispered. Be brave for love of me. I drew her to me and kissed her. Beads of cold perspiration started in the roots of my hair, but I clenched my teeth and entered the room alone.

Starting point is 09:08:47 The room was dark and I stood silent, not knowing where to turn, fearful lest I step on the cat. my aunt. Then through the dreary silence I called, Auntie! A faint noise broke upon my ear and my heart grew sick, but I strode into the darkness, calling hoarsely. Aunt Tabby, it is your nephew! Again the faint sound. Something was stirring there among the shadows, a shape moving softly along the wall, a shade which glided by me, paused, wavered, and darted under the bed. Then I threw myself on the floor, profoundly moved, begging, imploring my aunt to come to me.

Starting point is 09:09:29 Auntie, auntie, I murmured. Your nephew is waiting to take you to his heart. And at last I saw my great aunt's eyes shining in the dark. Close the door. That meeting is not for the eyes of the world. Close the door upon that sacred scene. My great aunt and nephew are united at last. The End. End of Section 40. End of the Maker of Moons and other stories.

Starting point is 09:10:05 By Robert W. Chambers

Classic Audiobook Collection - The Maker of Moons, and Other Short Stories by Robert W. Chambers ~ Full Audiobook [horror]

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