CHAPTER XLI

e,powderedinbetween,werethevillasofbusinessmen,whosawlifemoresteadily,thoughwiththesteadinessofthehalf-closedeye.Overallthesunwasstreaming,toallthebirdsweresinging,toalltheprimroseswereyellow,andthespeedwellblue,andthecountry,howevertheyinterpretedher,wasutteringhercryof“now.”ShedidnotfreeLeonardyet,andtheknifeplungeddeeperintohisheartasthetraindrewupatHilton.Butremorsehadbecomebeautiful. Hiltonwasasleep,orattheearliest,breakfasting.Leonardnoticedthecontrastwhenhesteppedoutofitintothecountry.Heremenhadbeenupsincedawn.Theirhourswereruled,notbyaLondonoffice,butbythemovementsofthecropsandthesun.Thattheyweremenofthefinesttypeonlythesentimentalistscandeclare.Buttheykepttothelifeofdaylight.TheyareEngland’shope.Clumsilytheycarryforwardthetorchofthesun,untilsuchtimeasthenationseesfittotakeitup.Halfclodhopper,halfboard-schoolprig,theycanstillthrowbacktoanoblerstock,andbreedyeomen. Atthechalkpitamotorpassedhim.Initwasanothertype,whomNaturefavours—theImperial.Healthy,everinmotion,ithopestoinherittheearth.Itbreedsasquicklyastheyeoman,andassoundlystrongisthetemptationtoacclaimitasasuper-yeoman,whocarrieshiscountry’svirtueoverseas.ButtheImperialistisnotwhathethinksorseems.Heisadestroyer.Hepreparesthewayforcosmopolitanism,andthoughhisambitionsmaybefulfilled,theearththatheinheritswillbegrey. ToLeonard,intentonhisprivatesin,therecametheconvictionofinnategoodnesselsewhere.Itwasnottheoptimismwhichhehadbeentaughtatschool.Againandagainmustthedrumstap,andthegoblinsstalkovertheuniversebeforejoycanbepurgedofthesuperficial.Itwasratherparadoxical,andarosefromhissorrow.Deathdestroysaman,buttheideaofdeathsaveshim—thatisthebestaccountofitthathasyetbeengiven.Squalorandtragedycanbeckontoallthatisgreatinus,andstrengthenthewingsoflove.Theycanbeckonitisnotcertainthattheywill,fortheyarenotlove’sservants.Buttheycanbeckon,andtheknowledgeofthisincredibletruthcomfortedhim. Asheapproachedthehouseallthoughtstopped.Contradictorynotionsstoodsidebysideinhismind.Hewasterrifiedbuthappy,ashamed,buthaddonenosin.Heknewtheconfession:“Mrs.Wilcox,Ihavedonewrong,”butsunrisehadrobbeditsmeaning,andhefeltratheronasupremeadventure. Heenteredagarden,steadiedhimselfagainstamotor-carthathefoundinit,foundadooropenandenteredahouse.Yes,itwouldbeveryeasy.Fromaroomtotheleftheheardvoices,Margaret’samongstthem.Hisownnamewascalledaloud,andamanwhomhehadneverseensaid,“Oh,ishethere?Iamnotsurprised.Inowthrashhimwithinaninchofhislife.” “Mrs.Wilcox,”saidLeonard,“Ihavedonewrong.” Themantookhimbythecollarandcried,“Bringmeastick.”Womenwerescreaming.Astick,verybright,descended.Ithurthim,notwhereitdescended,butintheheart.Booksfelloverhiminashower.Nothinghadsense. “Getsomewater,”commandedCharles,whohadallthroughkeptverycalm.“He’sshamming.OfcourseIonlyusedtheblade.Here,carryhimoutintotheair.” Thinkingthatheunderstoodthesethings,Margaretobeyedhim.TheylaidLeonard,whowasdead,onthegravelHelenpouredwateroverhim. “That’senough,”saidCharles. “Yes,murder’senough,”saidMissAvery,comingoutofthehousewiththesword.