Novel Notes [83]
his head, made one mad leap and caught it with his finger-tips, held on an instant, then fell back with a 'plump' and sank; came up and made another dash, and, helped by the impetus of his rise, caught the coping firmly this time with the whole of his fingers, hung on till his eyes saw the stunted grass, till they were both able to scramble out upon the bank and lie there, their breasts pressed close against the ground, their hands clutching the earth, while the overflowing water swirled softly round them.
"After a while, they raised themselves and looked at one another.
"'Tiring work,' said the other man, with a nod towards the lock.
"'Yes,' answered the husband, 'beastly awkward not being a good swimmer. How did you know I had fallen in? You met my wife, I suppose?'
"'Yes,' said the other man.
"The husband sat staring at a point in the horizon for some minutes. 'Do you know what I was wondering this morning?' said he.
"'No,' said the other man.
"'Whether I should kill you or not.'
"'They told me,' he continued, after a pause, 'a lot of silly gossip which I was cad enough to believe. I know now it wasn't true, because--well, if it had been, you would not have done what you have done.'
"He rose and came across. 'I beg your pardon,' he said, holding out his hand.
"'I beg yours,' said the other man, rising and taking it; 'do you mind giving me a hand with the sluices?'
"They set to work to put the lock right.
"'How did you manage to fall in?' asked the other man, who was raising one of the lower sluices, without looking round.
"The husband hesitated, as if he found the explanation somewhat difficult. 'Oh,' he answered carelessly, 'the wife and I were chaffing, and she said she'd often seen you jump it, and'--he laughed a rather forced laugh--'she promised me a--a kiss if I cleared it. It was a foolish thing to do.'
"'Yes, it was rather,' said the other man.
"A few days afterwards the man and woman met at a reception. He found her in a leafy corner of the garden talking to some friends. She advanced to meet him, holding out her hand. 'What can I say more than thank you?' she murmured in a low voice.
"The others moved away, leaving them alone. 'They tell me you risked your life to save his?' she said.
"'Yes,' he answered.
"She raised her eyes to his, then struck him across the face with her ungloved hand.
"'You damned fool!' she whispered.
"He seized her by her white arms, and forced her back behind the orange trees. 'Do you know why?' he said, speaking slowly and distinctly; 'because I feared that, with him dead, you would want me to marry you, and that, talked about as we have been, I might find it awkward to avoid doing so; because I feared that, without him to stand between us, you might prove an annoyance to me--perhaps come between me and the woman I love, the woman I am going back to. Now do you understand?'
"'Yes,' whispered the woman, and he left her.
"But there are only two people," concluded Jephson, "who do not regard his saving of the husband's life as a highly noble and unselfish action, and they are the man himself and the woman."
We thanked Jephson for his story, and promised to profit by the moral, when discovered. Meanwhile, MacShaughnassy said that he knew a story dealing with the same theme, namely, the too close attachment of a woman to a strange man, which really had a moral, which moral was: don't have anything to do with inventions.
Brown, who had patented a safety gun, which he had never yet found a man plucky enough to let off, said it was a bad moral. We agreed to hear the particulars, and judge for ourselves.
"This story," commenced MacShaughnassy, "comes from Furtwangen, a small town in the Black Forest. There lived there a very wonderful old fellow named Nicholaus Geibel. His business was the making of mechanical toys, at which work he had acquired an almost European reputation. He made rabbits that would emerge from the heart of a cabbage, flap their ears, smooth their whiskers, and disappear again; cats
"After a while, they raised themselves and looked at one another.
"'Tiring work,' said the other man, with a nod towards the lock.
"'Yes,' answered the husband, 'beastly awkward not being a good swimmer. How did you know I had fallen in? You met my wife, I suppose?'
"'Yes,' said the other man.
"The husband sat staring at a point in the horizon for some minutes. 'Do you know what I was wondering this morning?' said he.
"'No,' said the other man.
"'Whether I should kill you or not.'
"'They told me,' he continued, after a pause, 'a lot of silly gossip which I was cad enough to believe. I know now it wasn't true, because--well, if it had been, you would not have done what you have done.'
"He rose and came across. 'I beg your pardon,' he said, holding out his hand.
"'I beg yours,' said the other man, rising and taking it; 'do you mind giving me a hand with the sluices?'
"They set to work to put the lock right.
"'How did you manage to fall in?' asked the other man, who was raising one of the lower sluices, without looking round.
"The husband hesitated, as if he found the explanation somewhat difficult. 'Oh,' he answered carelessly, 'the wife and I were chaffing, and she said she'd often seen you jump it, and'--he laughed a rather forced laugh--'she promised me a--a kiss if I cleared it. It was a foolish thing to do.'
"'Yes, it was rather,' said the other man.
"A few days afterwards the man and woman met at a reception. He found her in a leafy corner of the garden talking to some friends. She advanced to meet him, holding out her hand. 'What can I say more than thank you?' she murmured in a low voice.
"The others moved away, leaving them alone. 'They tell me you risked your life to save his?' she said.
"'Yes,' he answered.
"She raised her eyes to his, then struck him across the face with her ungloved hand.
"'You damned fool!' she whispered.
"He seized her by her white arms, and forced her back behind the orange trees. 'Do you know why?' he said, speaking slowly and distinctly; 'because I feared that, with him dead, you would want me to marry you, and that, talked about as we have been, I might find it awkward to avoid doing so; because I feared that, without him to stand between us, you might prove an annoyance to me--perhaps come between me and the woman I love, the woman I am going back to. Now do you understand?'
"'Yes,' whispered the woman, and he left her.
"But there are only two people," concluded Jephson, "who do not regard his saving of the husband's life as a highly noble and unselfish action, and they are the man himself and the woman."
We thanked Jephson for his story, and promised to profit by the moral, when discovered. Meanwhile, MacShaughnassy said that he knew a story dealing with the same theme, namely, the too close attachment of a woman to a strange man, which really had a moral, which moral was: don't have anything to do with inventions.
Brown, who had patented a safety gun, which he had never yet found a man plucky enough to let off, said it was a bad moral. We agreed to hear the particulars, and judge for ourselves.
"This story," commenced MacShaughnassy, "comes from Furtwangen, a small town in the Black Forest. There lived there a very wonderful old fellow named Nicholaus Geibel. His business was the making of mechanical toys, at which work he had acquired an almost European reputation. He made rabbits that would emerge from the heart of a cabbage, flap their ears, smooth their whiskers, and disappear again; cats