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Updated: May 26, 2025
Two or three lights popped suddenly into view along the dark line of officers' quarters, and Waller's voice, with a ring of authority unusual to him, halted a running corporal of the guard. "What is it?" demanded he. "I don't know, sir," was the soldier's answer. "There was an awful scream from the end quarters Captain Ray's, sir." Then on he went again.
Thereupon he quoted the first four lines of what has ever since been a favourite poem of mine, Waller's lines to Hylas: Hylas, O Hylas! why sit we mute, Now that each bird saluteth the spring? Tie up the slackened strings of thy lute, Never may'st thou want matter to sing.
There was a faint smile on the lad's lips as he caught Waller's hand and gripped it fast. "Thank you," he said very calmly. "It's all over, Waller brother Waller. There, I am going to meet it like a man." "What!" said Waller, in a hoarse whisper, as if he thought their words might be heard through the open window. "What are you going to do?"
And was there no faltering of their voices, no light in their eyes, no trembling pressure of their hands, which said more, and was more, ay, and more beautiful in the sight of Him who made them, than all Herrick's Dianemes, Waller's Saccharissas, flames, darts, posies, love-knots, anagrams, and the rest of the insincere cant of the court?
He paid no attention to the other occupants of the dining room, but seated himself at a table to one side. He was facing Josie. Mrs. Waller's back was towards him and Captain Waller's profile was in his direct line of vision. Mrs. Waller raised her eyes to her husband's face. No graven image could have been more immovable.
Captain Waller's face lost its frozen expression. His cheeks, which had been deadly pale from the moment he heard the voice of Chester Hunt, now flushed painfully. He sprang from his chair and stood facing the other man. "Where are my children?" was all he said. "Oh, they are all right in good hands. If that is what is eating you, old fellow, you can drop your heroics and embrace your brother."
What was there to fear? Bloomsbury was a peaceful community. Rarely did anything occur to indicate that a spirit of lawlessness was abroad. Occasionally the police had some trouble with wandering tramps, but Chief Waller's strong point seemed to lie in that direction, and as a rule hoboes gave Bloomsbury a wide berth.
Waller's actions gave the key to his thoughts. The cereal and carnal cakes were thrust into a closet, and the boy proceeded then to turn down and feel the bed, over which he frowned and seemed in doubt; but the next minute he had rushed out of the room and downstairs to his own chamber, to strip a couple of blankets from the bed, smooth it over again, and make it rougher than it was before, a fact which he grasped and puzzled over for a moment, before exclaiming, "Bother!" and, after listening at the head of the stairs, he rushed up into his work-room with the blankets.
"I'll tell ye what it is," said March, advancing towards Bounce with a swagger and drawing his hunting-knife, "I quite agree with Waller's sentiments. I don't mean to allow myself to get any more waspisher, so I vote that we cut Bounce up and have a feed. What say you, comrades?"
Bertram smiled meekly as he resumed his sitting posture; but the smile faded and was replaced by a gaze of mute astonishment as he observed that he had depicted Waller's right eye upon his chin, close beneath his nose!
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