XXXIV

  Presently Amroth rose, and said that we must be going onward.

  "And now," he said, "I have a further thing to tell you, and that isthat I have very soon to leave you. To bring you hither was the last ofmy appointed tasks, and my work is now done. It is strange to rememberhow I bore you in my arms out of life, like a little sleeping child, andhow much we have been together."

  "Do not leave me now," I said to Amroth. "There seems so much that Ihave to ask you. And if your work with me is done, where are you nowgoing?"

  "Where am I going, brother?" said Amroth. "Back to life again, andimmediately. And there is one thing more that is permitted, and that isthat you should be with me to the last. Strange that I should haveattended you here, to the very crown and sum of life, and that youshould now attend me where I am going! But so it is."

  "And what do you feel about it?" I said.

  "Oh," said Amroth, "I do not like it, of course. To be so free andactive here, and to be bound again in the body, in the close, suffering,ill-savoured house of life! But I have much to gain by it. I have asharpness of temper and a peremptoriness--of which indeed," he said,smiling, "you have had experience. I am fond of doing things in my ownway, inconsiderate of others, and impatient if they do not go right. Iam hard, and perhaps even vulgar. But now I am going like a board to thecarpenter, to have some of my roughness planed out of me, and I hope todo better."

  "Well," I said, "I am too full of wonder and hope just now to be alarmedfor you. I could even wish I were myself departing. But I have a desireto see Cynthia again."

  "Yes," said Amroth, "and you will see her; but you will not be longafter me, brother; comfort yourself with that!"

  We walked a little farther across the moorland, talking softly atintervals, till suddenly I discerned a solitary figure which wasapproaching us swiftly.

  "Ah," said Amroth, "my time has indeed come. I am summoned."

  He waved his hand to the man, who came up quickly and even breathlessly,and handed Amroth a sealed paper. Amroth tore it open, read itsmilingly, gave a nod to the officer, saying "Many thanks." The officersaluted him; he was a brisk young man, with a fresh air; and he then,without a word, turned from us and went over the moorland.

  "Come," said Amroth, "let us descend. You can do this for yourself now;you do not need my help." He took my hand, and a mist enveloped us.Suddenly the mist broke up and streamed away. I looked round me incuriosity.

  We were standing in a very mean street of brick-built houses, withslated roofs; over the roofs we could see a spire, and the chimneys ofmills, spouting smoke. The houses had tiny smoke-dried gardens in frontof them. At the end of the street was an ugly, ill-tended field, onwhich much rubbish lay. There were some dirty children playing about,and a few women, with shawls over their heads, were standing togetherwatching a house opposite. The window of an upper room was open, and outof it came cries and moans.

  "It's going very badly with her," said one of the women, "poor soul; butthe doctor will be here soon. She was about this morning too. I had aword with her, and she was feeling very bad. I said she ought to be inbed, but she said she had her work to do first."

  The women glanced at the window with a hushed sort of sympathy. A youngwoman, evidently soon to become a mother, looked pale and apprehensive.

  "Will she get through?" she said timidly.

  "Oh, don't you fear, Sarah," said one of the women, kindly enough. "Shewill be all right. Bless you, I've been through it five times myself,and I am none the worse. And when it's over she'll be as comfortable asnever was. It seems worth it then."

  A man suddenly turned the corner of the street; he was dressed in ashabby overcoat with a bowler hat, and he carried a bag in his hand. Hecame past us. He looked a busy, overtried man, but he had agood-humoured air. He nodded pleasantly to the women. One said:

  "You are wanted badly in there, doctor."

  "Yes," he said cheerfully, "I am making all the haste I can. Where'sJohn?"

  "Oh, he's at work," said the woman. "He didn't expect it to-day. Buthe's better out of the way: he 'd be no good; he'd only be interferingand grumbling; but I'll come across with you, and when it's over, I'lljust run down and tell him."

  "That's right," said the doctor, "come along--the nurse will be roundin a minute; and I can make things easy meantime."

  Strange to say, it had hardly dawned upon me what was happening. Iturned to Amroth, who stood there smiling, but a little pale, his arm inmine; fresh and upright, with his slim and graceful limbs, his brightcurled hair, a strange contrast to the slatternly women and theheavily-built doctor.

  "So this," he said, "is where I am to spend a few years; my new fatheris a hardworking man, I believe, perhaps a little given to drink butkind enough; and I daresay some of these children are my brothers andsisters. A score of years or more to spend here, no doubt! Well, itmight be worse. You will think of me while you can, and if you have thetime, you may pay me a visit, though I don't suppose I shall recogniseyou."

  "It seems rather dreadful to me," said I, "I must confess! Who wouldhave thought that I should have forgotten my visions so soon? Amroth,dear, I can't bear this--that you should suffer such a change."

  "Sentiment again, brother," said Amroth. "To me it is curious andinteresting, even exciting. Well, good-bye; my time is just up, Ithink."

  The doctor had gone into the house, and the cries died away. A momentafter a woman in the dress of a nurse came quickly along the street,knocked, opened the door, and went in. I could see into the room, apoorly furnished one. A girl sat nursing a baby by the fire, and lookedvery much frightened. A little boy played in the corner. A woman wasbustling about, making some preparations for a meal.

  "Let me do you the honours of my new establishment," said Amroth with asmile. "No, dear man, don't go with me any farther. We will part here,and when we meet again we shall have some new stories to tell. Blessyou." He took his hand from my arm, caught up my hand, kissed it, said,"There, that is for you," and disappeared smiling into the house.

  A moment later there came the cry of a new-born child from the windowabove. The doctor came out and went down the street; one of the womenjoined him and walked with him. A few minutes later she returned with ayoung and sturdy workman, looking rather anxious.

  "It's all right," I heard her say, "it's a fine boy, and Annie is doingwell--she'll be about again soon enough."

  They disappeared into the house, and I turned away.

 
Arthur Christopher Benson's Novels