There was silence for a time; then the stranger said, "Peter Simon Halket, take a message to England"--Peter Halket started--"Go to that great people and cry aloud to it: 'Where is the sword was given into your hand, that with it you might enforce justice and deal out mercy?

How came you to give it up into the hands of men whose search is gold, whose thirst is wealth, to whom men's souls and bodies are counters in a game? How came you to give up the folk that were given into your hands, into the hand of the speculator and the gamester; as though they were dumb beasts who might be bought or sold?

"'Take back your sword, Great People--but wipe it first, lest some of the gold and blood stick to your hand.

"'What is this, I see!--the sword of the Great People, transformed to burrow earth for gold, as the snouts of swine for earth nuts! Have you no other use for it, Great Folk?

"'Take back your sword; and, when you have thoroughly cleansed it and wiped it of the blood and mire, then raise it to set free the oppressed of other climes.

"'Great Prince's Daughter, take heed! You put your sword into the hands of recreant knights; they will dull its edge and mar its brightness, and, when your hour of need comes and you would put it into other hands, you will find its edge chipped and its point broken. Take heed! Take heed!'

"Cry to the wise men of England: 'You, who in peace and calm in shaded chambers ponder on all things in heaven and earth, and take all knowledge for your province, have you no time to think of this? To whom has England given her power? How do the men wield it who have filched it from her? Say not, What have we to do with folk across the waters; have we not matter enough for thought in our own land? Where the brain of a nation has no time to go, there should its hands never be sent to labour: where the power of a people goes, there must its intellect and knowledge go, to guide it. Oh, you who sit at ease, studying past and future--and forget the present--you have no right to sit at ease knowing nothing of the working of the powers you have armed and sent to work on men afar. Where is your nation's sword--you men of thought?'

"Cry to the women of England: 'You, who repose in sumptuous houses, with children on your knees; think not it is only the rustling of the soft draped curtains, or the whistling of the wind, you hear. Listen! May it not be the far off cry of those your sword governs, creeping towards you across wide oceans till it pierces even into your inmost sanctuary?

Listen!

"For the womanhood of a dominant people has not accomplished all its labour when it has borne its children and fed them at its breast: there cries to it also from over seas and across continents the voice of the child-peoples--'Mother-heart, stand for us!' It would be better for you that your wombs should be barren and that your race should die out; than that you should listen, and give no answer.'"

The stranger lifted his hands upwards as he spoke, and Peter saw there were the marks of old wounds in both.

"Cry aloud to the working men and women of England: 'You, who for ages cried out because the heel of your masters was heavy on you; and who have said, 'We curse the kings that sit at ease, and care not who oppresses the folk, so their coffers be full and their bellies satisfied, and they be not troubled with the trouble of rule'; you, who have taken the king's rule from him and sit enthroned within his seat; is his sin not yours today? If men should add but one hour to your day's labour, or make but one fraction dearer the bread you eat, would you not rise up as one man? Yet, what is dealt out to men beyond seas whom you rule wounds you not. Nay, have you not sometimes said, as kings of old: 'It matters not who holds out our sword, marauder or speculator, so he calls it ours, we must cloak up the evil it has done!' Think you, no other curses rise to heaven but yours? Where is your sword? Into whose hand has it fallen? Take it quickly and cleanse it!'"

Peter Halket crouched, looking upwards; then he cried: "Master, I cannot give that message, I am a poor unlearn'd man. And if I should go to England and cry aloud, they would say, 'Who is this, who comes preaching to a great people? Is not his mother with us, and a washerwoman; and was not his father a day labourer at two shillings a day?' and they would laugh me to scorn. And, in truth, the message is so long I could not well remember it; give me other work to do."

And the stranger said, "Take a message to the men and women of this land. Go, from the Zambezi to the sea, and cry to its white men and women, and say: 'I saw a wide field, and in it were two fair beasts.

Wide was the field about them and rich was the earth with sweet scented herbs, and so abundant was the pasturage that hardly might they consume all that grew about them: and the two were like one to another, for they were the sons of one mother. And as I looked, I saw, far off to the northward, a speck within the sky, so small it was, and so high it was, that the eye scarce might mark it. Then it came nearer and hovered over the spot where the two beasts fed:--and its neck was bare, and its beak was hooked, and its talons were long, and its wings strong. And it hovered over the field where the two beasts were; and I saw it settle down upon a great white stone; and it waited. And I saw more specks to the northward, and more and more came onward to join him who sat upon the stone. And some hovered over the beasts, and some sharpened their beaks on the stones; and some walked in and out between the beasts'

legs. And I saw that they were waiting for something.

"'Then he who first came flew from one of the beasts to the other, and sat upon their necks, and put his beak within their ears. And he flew from one to the other and flapped his wings in their faces till the beasts were blinded, and each believed it was his fellow who attacked him. And they fell to, and fought; they gored one another's sides till the field was red with blood and the ground shook beneath them. The birds sat by and watched; and when the blood flowed they walked round and round. And when the strength of the two beasts was exhausted they fell to earth. Then the birds settled down upon them, and feasted; till their maws were full, and their long bare necks were wet; and they stood with their beaks deep in the entrails of the two dead beasts; and looked out with their keen bright eyes from above them. And he who was king of all plucked out the eyes, and fed on the hearts of the dead beasts. And when his maw was full, so that he could eat no more, he sat on his stone hard by and flapped his great wings.'

"Peter Simon Halket, cry to the white men and women of South Africa: 'You have a goodly land; you and your children's children shall scarce fill it; though you should stretch out your arms to welcome each stranger who comes to live and labour with you. You are the twin branches of one tree; you are the sons of one mother. Is this goodly land not wide enough for you, that you should rend each other's flesh at the bidding of those who will wet their beaks within both your vitals?--Look up, see, they circle in the air above you!'"

Almost Peter Halket started and looked upward; but there was only the black sky of Mashonaland over his head.

The stranger stood silent looking downward into the fire. Peter Halket half clasped his arms about his knees.

"My master," he cried, "how can I take this message? The Dutchmen of South Africa will not listen to me, they will say I am an Englishman.

And the Englishmen will say: 'Who is this fellow who comes preaching peace, peace, peace? Has he not been a year in the country and he has not a share in a single company? Can anything he says be worth hearing?

If he were a man of any sense he would have made five thousand pounds at least.' And they will not listen to me. Give me another labour!"

And the stranger said: "Take a message to one man. Find him, whether he sleep or wake, whether he eat or drink; and say to him: 'Where are the souls of the men that you have bought?'

"And if he shall answer you and say: 'I bought no men's souls! The souls that I bought were the souls of dogs?' Then ask him this question, say to 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 a rushlight once. It flickered and flared, and it guttered down, and went out--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 might see its steady light and find harbour, and escape the rocks.

"'And that light flickered and flared, as it listed. It went this way and it went that; it burnt blue, and green, and red; now it disappeared altogether, and then it burnt up again. And men, far out at sea, kept their eyes fixed where they knew the light should be: saying, 'We are safe; the great light will lead us when we near the rocks.' And on dark nights men drifted nearer and nearer; and in the stillness of the midnight 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 trusted it? 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 a streamlet once: it burst forth from beneath the snow on a mountain's crown; and the snow made a cove over it. It ran on pure and blue and clear as the sky above it, and the banks of snow made its cradle. Then it came to a spot where the snow ended; and two ways lay before it by which it might journey; one, on the mountain ridges, past rocks and stones, and down long sunlit slopes to the sea; and the other, down a chasm. And the stream hesitated: it twirled and purled, and went this way and went that. It MIGHT have been, that it would have forced its way past rocks and ridges and along mountain slopes, and made a path for itself where no path had been; the banks would have grown green, and the mountain daisy would have grown beside it; and all night the stars would have looked at their faces in it; and down the long sunny slopes the sun would have played on it by day; and the wood dove would have built her nest in the trees beside it; and singing, singing, always singing, it would have made its way at last to the great sea, whose far-off call all waters hear.

"'But it hesitated.--It might have been, that, had but some hand been there to move but one stone from its path, it would have forced its way past rocks and ridges, and found its way to the great sea--it might have been! 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 the sea!)--it made one leap into the abyss.

"'The rocks closed over it. Nine hundred fathoms deep, in a still, dark pool it lay. The green lichen hung from the rocks. No sunlight came there, and the stars could not look down at night. The pool lay still and silent. Then, because it was alive and could not rest, it gathered its strength together, through fallen earth and broken debris it oozed its way silently on; and it crept out in a deep valley; the mountains closed it around. And the streamlet laughed to itself, 'Ha, ha! I shall make a great lake here; a sea!' And it oozed, and it oozed, and it filled half the plain. But no lake came--only a great marsh--because there was no way outwards, and the water rotted. The gra.s.s died out along its edges; and the trees dropped their leaves and rotted in the water; and the wood dove who had built her nest there flew up to the mountains, because her young ones died. And the toads sat on the stones and dropped their spittle in the water; and the reeds were yellow that grew along the edge. And at night, a heavy, white fog gathered over the water, so that the stars could not see through it; and by day a fine white mist hung over it, and the sunbeams could not play on it. And no man knew that once the marsh had leapt forth clear and blue from under a hood of snow on the mountain's top: aye, and that the turning of one stone might have caused that it had run on and on, and mingled its song with 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 are coves and mountain tops to me? Gold is real, and the power to crush men within my hand'; tell him no further.

"But if by some chance he should listen, then, say this one thing to him, clearly in the ear, that he may not fail to hear it: 'The morning may break grey, and the midday be dark and stormy; but the glory of the evening's sunset may wash out for ever the remembrance of the morning's dullness, 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 descended there 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 himself entirely before twenty; he may reshape himself before thirty; but after forty he is fixed. Shall I, who for forty-three years have sought money and power, seek for anything else now? You want me to be Jesus Christ, I suppose! How can I be myself and another man?' Then answer him: 'Deep in the heart of every son of man lies an angel; but some have their wings folded. Wake yours! He is larger and stronger than another man's; mount up with him!'

"But if he curses you, and says, 'I have eight millions of money, and I care neither for G.o.d nor man!'--then make no answer, but stoop and write before him." The stranger bent down and wrote with his finger in the white ashes of the fire. Peter Halket bent forward, and he saw the two words the stranger had written.

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

The stranger said: "And if he should curse yet further, and say, 'There is not one man nor woman in South Africa I cannot buy with my money!

When I have the Transvaal, I shall buy G.o.d Almighty Himself, if I care to!'

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

There was a dead silence for a moment. Then the stranger stretched forth his hand. "Yet in that leaving him, remember;--It is not the act, but the will, which marks the soul of the man. He who has crushed a nation sins no more than he who rejoices in the death throe of the meanest creature. The stagnant pool is not less poisonous drop for drop than the mighty swamp, though its reach be smaller. He who has desired to be and accomplish what this man has been and accomplished, is as this man; though he have lacked the power to perform. Nay, remember this one thing more:--Certain sons of G.o.d are born on earth, named by men Children of Genius. In early youth each stands at the parting of the way and chooses; he bears his gift for others or for himself. But forget this never, whatever his choice may be; that there is laid on him a burden that is laid not on others--all s.p.a.ce is open to him, and his choice is infinite--and if he falls beneath it, let men weep rather than curse, for he was born a Son of G.o.d."

There was silence again. Then Peter Halket clasped his arms about the stranger'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 all know, a man who kept women and shot n.i.g.g.e.rs, turned prophet.' But it is, that it is true. Have I not wished--" and Peter Halket would have poured out all his soul; but the stranger prevented him.

"Peter Simon Halket," he said, "is it the trumpet which gives forth the call to battle, whether it be battered tin or gilded silver, which boots? Is it not the call? What and if I should send my message by a woman or a child: shall truth be less truth because the bearer is despised? Is it the mouth that speaks or the word that is spoken which is eternal? Nevertheless, if you will have it so, go, and say, 'I, Peter Halket, sinner among you all, who have desired women and gold, who have loved 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 that small spot where alone on earth your will rules, bring there into being the 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 not what 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 saw nothing more about him but a soft bright light. Yet in it he heard a voice cry, "Because thou hast loved mercy--and hated oppression--"

When Trooper Peter Halket raised himself, he saw the figure of the stranger pa.s.sing from him. He cried, "My Master, let me go with you."

But the figure did not turn. And, as it pa.s.sed into the darkness, it seemed to Peter Halket that the form grew larger and larger: and as it descended the further side of the kopje it seemed that for one instant he still saw the head with a pale, white light upon it: then it vanished.

And Trooper Peter Halket sat alone upon the kopje.

Chapter II.

It was a hot day. The sun poured down its rays over the scattered trees, and stunted bush, and long gra.s.s, and over the dried up river beds. Far in the blue, so high the eye could scarcely mark them, vultures were flying southward, where forty miles off kraals had been destroyed and two hundred black carca.s.ses were lying in the sun.