"What has a Queen's officer to do with a qualified number?" said the colonel, and there rose an unpleasant growl around the table.

"How can I tell?" said the affable Oriental, with a sweet smile. "He is a-how you have it?-escape-runaway, from over there."

He nodded toward the darkness of 10 the night.

"Speak to him, if he'll answer you, and speak to him gently," said Little Mildred, settling the man in a chair. It seemed most improper to all present that Dirkovitch should sip brandy as he talked in purring, spitting Russian to the creature who answered so feebly and with such evident dread. But since Dirkovitch appeared to under20 stand, no man said a word. They breathed heavily, leaning forward, in the long gaps of the conversation. The next time that they have no engagements on hand the White Hussars intend to go to St. Petersburg and learn Russian.

"He does not know how many years ago," said Dirkovitch, facing the mess, "but he says it was very long ago, in 30 a war. I think that there was an accident. He says he was of this glorious and distinguished regiment in the

war."

"The rolls! The rolls! Holmer, get the rolls!" said Little Mildred, and the adjutant dashed off bareheaded to the orderly-room, where the rolls of the regiment were kept. He returned just in time to hear Dirkovitch conclude, 40 "Therefore I am most sorry to say there was an accident, which would have been reparable if he had apologized to that our colonel, which he had insulted."

Another growl, which the colonel tried to beat down. The mess was in no mood to weigh insults to Russian colonels just then.

"He does not remember, but I think

that there was an accident, and so he 50 was not exchanged among the prisoners, but he was sent to another place— how do you say?-the country. So, he says, he came here. He does not know how he came. Eh? He was at Chepany"—the man caught the word, nodded, and shivered-"at Zhigansk and Irkutsk. I cannot understand how he escaped. He says, too, that he was in the forests for many years, 60 but how many years he has forgotten— that with many things. It was an accident; done because he did not apologize to that our colonel. Ah!"

Instead of echoing Dirkovitch's sigh of regret, it is sad to record that the White Hussars livelily exhibited unchristian delight and other emotions, hardly restrained by their sense of hospitality. Holmer flung the frayed 70 and yellow regimental rolls on the table, and the men flung themselves atop of these.

"Steady! Fifty-six-fifty-five-fiftyfour," said Holmer. "Here we are. 'Lieutenant Austin Limmason-missing.' That was before Sebastopol. What an infernal shame! Insulted. one of their colonels, and was quietly shipped off. Thirty years of his life so wiped out."

"But he never apologized. Said he'd see him-first," chorused the

Swift as a shot came the answer, in a slightly surprised tone, "Yes, I'm Limmason, of course." of course." The light died out in his eyes, and he collapsed afresh, watching every motion of Dirkovitch with terror. A flight from Siberia may fix a few elementary facts in the mind, but it does not lead to continuity of thought. The man could 10 not explain how, like a homing pigeon, he had found his way to his own old mess again. Of what he had suffered or seen he knew nothing. He cringed before Dirkovitch as instinctively as he had pressed the spring of the candlestick, sought the picture of the drum horse, and answered to the Queen's toast.

The rest was a blank that the 20 dreaded Russian tongue could only in part remove. His head bowed on his breast, and he giggled and cowered alternately.

30

The devil that lived in the brandy prompted Dirkovitch at this extremely inopportune moment to make a speech. He rose, swaying slightly, gripped the table edge, while his eyes glowed like opals, and began:

"Fellow-soldiers, glorious true friends and hospitables. It was an accident, and deplorable-most deplorable." Here he smiled sweetly all round the mess. "But you will think of this little, little thing. So little, is it not? The czar! Posh! I snap my fingers-I snap my fingers at him. Do I believe in him? No! But the Slav who has done nothing, him I believe. 40 Seventy-how much?-millions that have done nothing-not one thing. Napoleon was an episode." He banged a hand on the table. "Hear you, old peoples, we have done nothing in the world-out here. All our work is to do; and it shall be done, old peoples. Get away!" He waved his hand imperiously, and pointed to the man. "You see him. He is not good to see.

He was just one little-oh, so little 50 accident, that no one remembered. Now he is That. So will you be, brother-soldiers so brave-so will you be. But you will never come back. You will all go where he has gone, or" -he pointed to the great coffin shadow on the ceiling, and muttering, "Seventy millions-get away, you old people," fell asleep.

"Sweet, and to the point," said 60 Little Mildred. "What's the use of getting wrath? Let's make the poor devil comfortable."

But that was a matter suddenly and swiftly taken from the loving hands of the White Hussars. The lieutenant had returned only to go away again three days later when the wail of the "Dead March" and the tramp of the squadrons told the wondering station, 70 that saw no gap in the table, an officer of the regiment had resigned his newfound commission.

And Dirkovitch-bland, supple, and always genial-went away too by a night train. Little Mildred and another saw him off, for he was the guest of the mess, and even had he smitten the colonel with the open hand, the law of the mess allowed no relaxa- so tion of hospitality.

"Good-by, Dirkovitch, and a pleasant journey," said Little Mildred. "Au revoir, my true friends," said the Russian.

"Indeed! But we thought you were going home?"

"Yes; but I will come again. My friends, is that road shut?" He pointed to where the north star burned over 90 the Khyber Pass.

"By Jove! I forgot. Of course. Happy to meet you, old man, any time you like. Got everything you want-cheroots, ice, bedding? That's

91. Khyber Pass, see note on line 37, page 313, and picture on page 316.

all right. Well, au revoir, Dirkovitch." "Um," said the other man, as the tail-lights of the train grew small. "Of-all-the-unmitigated-"

Little Mildred answered nothing, but watched the north star, and hummed a selection from a recent

burlesque that had much delighted the White Hussars. It ran:

I'm sorry for Mister Bluebeard,
I'm sorry to cause him pain;
But a terrible spree there's sure to be
When he comes back again.

EXPLANATORY NOTES

), perhaps

1. Rudyard Kipling (1865the most famous short story writer alive today, is a curious blend of the West and the East. His outlook is the result of his education and thought; his material is the accumulation of his life and observation. Born in India, of English parents, educated in England (he gives an interesting account of a typical English school for boys in Stalky and Co.), a traveler in all parts of the world, a dweller for a time in Vermont, he seems to have touched most of the varied interests which this world offers. As a newspaper writer and editor in a land won and held for his country by the deeds of noble men, Kipling chronicled from the very first the qualities of men, the opinions of men, the deeds of men. To some readers the absence of feminine interest in his tales is a defect, to others it is the chief element of his originality. Many of his stories do embody female characters delicately and sympathetically treated, but he has the reputation of being a "man's man," and such a reputation, once accorded an author, clings for always. "The Man Who Was" is taken from Mine Own People, a volume of short stories by Kipling.

2. The scene of this story is laid in Peshawur, the capital of the northwest frontier province of British India. Its position, at the entrance of the Khyber Pass, so pointedly alluded to in the story, gives it great strategic importance. During his residence in India Kipling became familiar with English and Indian army life such as he pictures in the story, and doubtless met Russians of the "forced friendly" type portrayed by Dirkovitch.

In spite of Dirkovitch's great show of friendship and admiration of the British, his hypocrisy is strongly felt from the beginning of the story. There is no longer any doubt about his attitude when, in his disjointed-yet unmistakably clear— speech he calls the whole matter of the young lieutenant's banishment an incident not worth thinking about; and then prophesies the anni

hilation of the British Empire by the Russians. Kipling's belief in the Russian attitude has its foundation in historic facts. The outcome of the Crimean War (1854-1856) still rankled in the Russian mind; England's control of the Suez Canal, obtained in 1875, thus strengthening the British Empire in India, was viewed from Russia with bitter jealousy; and, almost coincident with the writing of this story, Russian encroachments into Afghanistan, a buffer territory between British India and Russia, caused a serious disturbance.

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS

1. What do you think of the first sentence? What does it mean? What has the first paragraph to do with the story? Why is "swordcut" so good to indicate a mountain pass? Why appropriate here? Is Kipling serious or humorous at the beginning of the story? Why? Why does the Russian speak of Asia as the field of his nation and of Britain? What is meant by "You cannot reform a lady of many lovers" as applied to Asia? What does "talk special-correspondently" mean? What does Kipling think of titled rank? Prove your answer. Why is the introduction so long? What makes it interesting?

2. What is the dramatic significance of the Russian's dark green uniform at the banquet? From what occupation are most of Kipling's figures of speech taken? Make a list of several. Why is the native Indian officer so important? What is his part in the story? Why did he come in late? How does Kipling show the admiration of the Britishers for him? How is the true sportsmanship of the English shown? What did the latter part of Hira Singh's speech really mean? Why were the translations made to Dirkovitch "expurgated"? What did he do when the shot was heard?

3. How is the story told, directly by the author or by the participants? What effect does this method emphasize? How does the author make you visualize the object

brought in by the sentries? Which speech of the native Indian polo player made the deepest impression upon you? What supports his opinion of the captive? What was the effect upon the Hussars? Why is the band music so important? What was its effect? Which speech of the man electrified the Hussars? Explain why; and what followed. How does Kipling paint the degradation of the man by contrast with the pride and glory of the toast to the Queen?

4. What feelings surged through the Hussars as Dirkovitch told the man's story? Why could they not show the Russian all they really felt? What was the real point of Dirkovitch's speech? Why did the Hussars not resent it? What is the significance of the Russian's saying Au revoir instead of Good-by?

5. Is Kipling's style here suitable for the story? Would the style have been any better had it been more "booky"? Are the incidents and scenes unusual to you? Did that novelty attract you? Is this romanticism? Why? Which held you most-plot or character? What element frequently found in stories is entirely

lacking here? Do you object? What is the final impression the story made upon you? 6. What kind of man does Kipling depict best? Show what is meant by calling his work "mainly journalistic." Comment on his popularity.

Theme Topics. 1. Discuss the geography of this story. 2. Report on the British in India. Tell how they won the land. Show the connection between this acquisition and contemporary events in America. 3. Describe the game of polo. 4. Explain what local color is in a story. Show how it adds to the interest of this one.

5.

Report on Kipling's connections with the United States. 6. Contrast England's attitude toward Turkey during the World War with that of Russia.

Library Reading. "The Man Who Would Be King," "Wee Willie Winkie," "Without Benefit of Clergy," "The Return of Imray," and other short stories by Kipling; if you are interested in seeing how other authors handle the "dramatic incident" type of story read "Heart of Darkness," Conrad (in Youth); "The Desert," Smith (in The Turquoise Cup).

Among the few features of agricultural England which retain an appearance but little modified by the lapse of centuries may be reckoned the high, grassy, and furzy downs, coombs, or ewe-leases, as they are indifferently called, that fill a large area of certain counties in the south and southwest. If any mark of human occupation is 10 met with hereon, it usually takes the form of the solitary cottage of some shepherd.

Fifty years ago such a lonely cottage stood on such a down, and may possibly be standing there now. In spite of its loneliness, however, the spot, by actual measurement, was not more than five miles from a county town. Yet that affected it little. Five miles 20 of irregular upland, during the long,

*Reprinted by permission of the publishers, Harper and Brothers, from Wessex Tales by Thomas Hardy.

inimical seasons, with their sleets,
snows, rains, and mists, afford with-
drawing space enough to isolate a
Timon or
Timon or a Nebuchadnezzar; much
less, in fair weather, to please that less
repellent tribe, the poets, philosophers,
artists, and others who "conceive and
meditate of pleasant things."

Some old earthen camp or barrow, some clump of trees, at least some 30 starved fragment of ancient hedge, is usually taken advantage of in the erection of these forlorn dwellings. But, in the present case, such a kind of shelter had been disregarded. Higher Crowstairs, as the house was called, stood quite detached and undefended. The only reason for its precise situa

24. Timon, an Athenian (fifth century B. C.), called a hater of mankind. Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon (604-561 B. C.), who, because he had sinned, was driven into the wilderness. For the story see Daniel, iv, 31-33. 29. barrow, a small hill or mound marking the burialplace of prehistoric inhabitants.

tion seemed to be the crossing of two footpaths at right angles hard by, which may have crossed there and thus for a good five hundred years. Hence the house was exposed to the elements on all sides. But, though the wind up here blew unmistakably when it did blow, and the rain hit hard whenever it fell, the various weathers of the 10 winter season were not quite so formidable on the coomb as they were imagined to be by dwellers on low ground. The raw rimes were not so pernicious as in the hollows, and the frosts were scarcely so severe. When the shepherd and his family who tenanted the house were pitied for their sufferings from the exposure, they said that upon the whole they were less in20 convenienced by "wuzzes and flames" than when they had lived by the stream of a snug, neighboring valley.

The night of March 28, 182–, was precisely one of the nights that were wont to call forth these expressions of commiseration. The level rainstorm smote walls, slopes, and hedges like the clothyard shafts of Senlac and Crecy. Such sheep and outdoor animals as 30 had no shelter stood with their but

tocks to the winds; while the tails of little birds trying to roost on some scraggy thorn were blown inside-out like umbrellas. The gable-end of the cottage was stained with wet, and the eavesdroppings flapped against the wall. Yet never was commiseration for the shepherd more misplaced. For that cheerful rustic was entertaining 40 a large party in glorification of the christening of his second girl.

The guests had arrived before the rain began to fall, and they were all now assembled in the chief, or living

room of the dwelling. A glance into the apartment at eight o'clock on this eventful evening would have resulted in the opinion that it was as cosy and comfortable a nook as could be wished for in boisterous weather. The calling 50 of its inhabitant was proclaimed by a number of highly polished sheepcrooks, without stems, that were hung ornamentally over the fireplace, the curl of each shining crook varying from the antiquated type engraved in the patriarchal pictures of old family Bibles to the most approved fashion of the last local sheep-fair. The room was lighted by half-a-dozen candles, 60 having wicks only a trifle smaller than the grease which enveloped them, in candlesticks that were never used but at high-days, holy-days, and family feasts. The lights were scattered about the room, two of them standing on the chimney-piece. This position of candles was in itself significant. Candles on the chimney-piece always meant a party.

On the hearth, in front of a backbrand to give substance, blazed a fire of thorns, that crackled "like the laughter of the fool."

70

70

Nineteen persons were gathered here. Of these, five women, wearing gowns of various bright hues, sat in chairs along the wall; girls shy and not shy filled the window-bench; four men, including Charley Jake the hedge- 80 carpenter, Elijah New the parishclerk, and John Pitcher, a neighboring dairyman, the shepherd's father-inlaw, lolled in the settle; a young man and maid, who were blushing over tentative pour parlers on a life-companionship, sat beneath the cornercupboard; and an elderly engaged man of fifty or upward moved restlessly about from spots where his betrothed 90

64. high-days, days celebrated because of religious or family significance. 73. like the laughter of the fool, see Ecclesiastes vii, 6. 86. pourparler, discussion.