Trooper Peter Halket of Mashonaland

men's souls! The soulsthat I bought were the souls of dogs?' Then ask him this question, sayto him, 'Where are the--'

  "And if he cry out, 'You lie, you lie! I know what you are going to say.What do I know of envoys? Was I ever afraid of the British Government?It is all a lie!' Then question him no further. But say: 'There was arushlight once. It flickered and flared, and it guttered down, and wentout--and no man heeded it: it was only a rushlight.

  "'And there was a light once; men set it on high within a lighthouse,that it might yield light to all souls at sea; that afar off they mightsee its steady light and find harbour, and escape the rocks.

  "'And that light flickered and flared, as it listed. It went this wayand it went that; it burnt blue, and green, and red; now it disappearedaltogether, and then it burnt up again. And men, far out at sea, kepttheir eyes fixed where they knew the light should be: saying, 'We aresafe; the great light will lead us when we near the rocks.' And ondark nights men drifted nearer and nearer; and in the stillness of themidnight they struck on the lighthouse rocks and went down at its feet.

  "'What now shall be done to that light, in that it was not a rushlight;in that it was set on high by the hands of men, and in that men trustedit? Shall it not be put out?'

  "And if he shall answer, saying, 'What are men to me? they are fools,all fools! Let them die!'--tell him again this story: 'There was astreamlet once: it burst forth from beneath the snow on a mountain'scrown; and the snow made a cove over it. It ran on pure and blue andclear as the sky above it, and the banks of snow made its cradle. Thenit came to a spot where the snow ended; and two ways lay before it bywhich it might journey; one, on the mountain ridges, past rocks andstones, and down long sunlit slopes to the sea; and the other, down achasm. And the stream hesitated: it twirled and purled, and went thisway and went that. It MIGHT have been, that it would have forced itsway past rocks and ridges and along mountain slopes, and made a path foritself where no path had been; the banks would have grown green, and themountain daisy would have grown beside it; and all night the stars wouldhave looked at their faces in it; and down the long sunny slopes the sunwould have played on it by day; and the wood dove would have built hernest in the trees beside it; and singing, singing, always singing, itwould have made its way at last to the great sea, whose far-off call allwaters hear.

  "'But it hesitated.--It might have been, that, had but some hand beenthere to move but one stone from its path, it would have forced its waypast rocks and ridges, and found its way to the great sea--it might havebeen! But no hand was there. The streamlet gathered itself together,and (it might be, that it was even in its haste to rush onwards to thesea!)--it made one leap into the abyss.

  "'The rocks closed over it. Nine hundred fathoms deep, in a still, darkpool it lay. The green lichen hung from the rocks. No sunlight camethere, and the stars could not look down at night. The pool lay stilland silent. Then, because it was alive and could not rest, it gatheredits strength together, through fallen earth and broken debris it oozedits way silently on; and it crept out in a deep valley; the mountainsclosed it around. And the streamlet laughed to itself, 'Ha, ha! I shallmake a great lake here; a sea!' And it oozed, and it oozed, and itfilled half the plain. But no lake came--only a great marsh--becausethere was no way outwards, and the water rotted. The grass died outalong its edges; and the trees dropped their leaves and rotted in thewater; and the wood dove who had built her nest there flew up to themountains, because her young ones died. And the toads sat on the stonesand dropped their spittle in the water; and the reeds were yellow thatgrew along the edge. And at night, a heavy, white fog gathered over thewater, so that the stars could not see through it; and by day a finewhite mist hung over it, and the sunbeams could not play on it. And noman knew that once the marsh had leapt forth clear and blue from undera hood of snow on the mountain's top: aye, and that the turning of onestone might have caused that it had run on and on, and mingled its songwith the sea's song for ever.'"

  The stranger was silent for a while.

  Then he said, "Should he answer you and say, 'What do I care! What arecoves and mountain tops to me? Gold is real, and the power to crush menwithin my hand'; tell him no further.

  "But if by some chance he should listen, then, say this one thing tohim, clearly in the ear, that he may not fail to hear it: 'The morningmay break grey, and the midday be dark and stormy; but the glory of theevening's sunset may wash out for ever the remembrance of the morning'sdullness, and the darkness of the noon. So that all men shall say, 'Ah,for the beauty of that day!'--For the stream that has once descendedthere is no path upwards.--It is never too late for the soul of a man.'

  "And if he should laugh, and say: 'You fool, a man may remake himselfentirely before twenty; he may reshape himself before thirty; but afterforty he is fixed. Shall I, who for forty-three years have sought moneyand power, seek for anything else now? You want me to be Jesus Christ, Isuppose! How can I be myself and another man?' Then answer him: 'Deep inthe heart of every son of man lies an angel; but some have their wingsfolded. Wake yours! He is larger and stronger than another man's; mountup with him!'

  "But if he curses you, and says, 'I have eight millions of money, and Icare neither for God nor man!'--then make no answer, but stoop and writebefore him." The stranger bent down and wrote with his finger in thewhite ashes of the fire. Peter Halket bent forward, and he saw the twowords the stranger had written.

  The stranger said: "Say to him: 'Though you should seek to make thatname immortal in this land; and should write it in gold dust, and set itwith diamonds, and cement it with human blood, shed from the Zambezito the sea, yet--." The stranger passed his foot over the words; PeterHalket looked down, and he saw only a bed of smooth white ashes wherethe name had been.

  The stranger said: "And if he should curse yet further, and say, 'Thereis not one man nor woman in South Africa I cannot buy with my money!When I have the Transvaal, I shall buy God Almighty Himself, if I careto!'

  "Then say to him this one thing only, 'Thy money perish with thee!' andleave him."

  There was a dead silence for a moment. Then the stranger stretched forthhis hand. "Yet in that leaving him, remember;--It is not the act, butthe will, which marks the soul of the man. He who has crushed a nationsins no more than he who rejoices in the death throe of the meanestcreature. The stagnant pool is not less poisonous drop for drop than themighty swamp, though its reach be smaller. He who has desired to beand accomplish what this man has been and accomplished, is as this man;though he have lacked the power to perform. Nay, remember this one thingmore:--Certain sons of God are born on earth, named by men Childrenof Genius. In early youth each stands at the parting of the way andchooses; he bears his gift for others or for himself. But forget thisnever, whatever his choice may be; that there is laid on him a burdenthat is laid not on others--all space is open to him, and his choice isinfinite--and if he falls beneath it, let men weep rather than curse,for he was born a Son of God."

  There was silence again. Then Peter Halket clasped his arms about thestranger's feet. "My master," he cried, "I dare not take that message.It is not that men may say, 'Here is Trooper Peter Halket, whom we allknow, a man who kept women and shot niggers, turned prophet.' But it is,that it is true. Have I not wished--" and Peter Halket would have pouredout all his soul; but the stranger prevented him.

  "Peter Simon Halket," he said, "is it the trumpet which gives forththe call to battle, whether it be battered tin or gilded silver, whichboots? Is it not the call? What and if I should send my message bya woman or a child: shall truth be less truth because the bearer isdespised? Is it the mouth that speaks or the word that is spoken whichis eternal? Nevertheless, if you will have it so, go, and say, 'I, PeterHalket, sinner among you all, who have desired women and gold, who haveloved myself and hated my fellow, I--'" The stranger looked down at him,and placed his hand gently on his head. "Peter Simon Halket," he said,"a harder task I give you than any which has been laid upon you. In thatsmall spot where alone on earth your will rules,
bring there into beingthe kingdom today. Love your enemies; do good to them that hate you.Walk ever forward, looking not to the right hand or the left. Heed notwhat men shall say of you. Succour the oppressed; deliver the captive.If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he is athirst give him drink."

  A curious warmth and gladness stole over Peter Halket as he knelt;it was as, when a little child, his mother folded him to her: he sawnothing more about him but a soft bright light. Yet in it he heard avoice cry, "Because thou hast loved mercy--and hated oppression--"

  When Trooper Peter Halket raised himself, he saw the figure of thestranger passing from him. He