 section 12 of the light that failed. This is a library box recording. All library box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit librarybox.org. Recording by Zarnaz, the light that failed by Rudyard Kipling, chapter 8, part 2. He leaned into the darkness watching the greater darkness of London below him. The chambers stood much higher than the other houses, commanding a hundred chimneys, croaked owls that looked like sitting cats as the swung round, and other uncouth brick and zinc mystery supported by iron stanchions and clamped by eight pieces. Northward, the lights of Piccadilly Circus and Leicester Square threw a copper-colored glare above the black roofs, and southward by all the orderly lights of the Thames. A train rolled out across one of the railway bridges, and its thunder drowned for a minute the dull roar of the streets. The Neil guy looked at his watch and said shortly, there's the Paris Night Mail. You can book from here to St. Petersburg if you choose. Dick crammed head and shoulders out of the window and looked across the river. Torpenhau came to his side while the Neil guy passed over quietly to the piano and opened it. Binky, making himself as large as possible, spread out upon the sofa with the air of one who is not to be lightly disturbed. Well, said the Neil guy, to the two pairs of shoulders. Have you never seen this place before? A steam tug on the river hooted as she towed her barges to Wharf. Then the boom of the traffic came into the room. Torpenhau nudged Dick. Good place to bank in. Bad place to bunk in, Dicky, isn't it? Dick's chin was in his hand as he answered. In the words of a general not without fame, is still looking out on the darkness. My God, what a city to loot. Binky found the night air tickling his whiskers and his knees plaintively. We shall give the Binky dog a cold. Said Torpenhau. Come in. And they withdrew their heads. You'll be buried in Cancel Green, Dick, one of these days, if it isn't closed by the time you want to go there. Buried within two feet of someone else, his wife and his family. Allah forbid, I shall get away before the time comes. Give a man room to stretch his legs, Mr. Binky. Dick flung himself down on the sofa and tweaked Binky's velvet ears, yawning heavily the while. You'll find that wardrobe case very much out of tune. Torpenhau said to the Neil Guy, It's never touched except by you. A piece of gross extravagance. Dick grunted. The Neil Guy only comes when I'm out. That's because you're always out. How will Neil Guy and let him here? The life of the Neil Guy is fraud and slaughter. His writings are water, dickens and water. But the voice of the Neil Guy raised on high makes even the maidys glad to die. Dick quoted from Torpenhau's letterpress in the Nangapunga book. How do they call moos in Canada, Neil Guy? The man laughed, singing was his one polite accomplishment as many presidents in far off lands had known. What shall I sing? Said he, turning in the chair. Maldrew in the morning, said Torpenhau at a venture. No. Said Dick sharply and the Neil Guy opened his eyes. The old shanty whereof he, among a very few, possessed all the words was not a pretty one. But Dick had heard it many times before without wincing. Without prelude, he launched into that stately tune that calls together and troubles the hearts of the gypsies of the sea. Farewell and adieu to you Spanish ladies. Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain. Dick turned uneasily on the sofa for he could hear the boughs of the berylong crashing into the green seas on our way to the southern cross. Then came the chorus. We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors. We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas until we take sound rings in the channel of old England, from mutions to silly, its forty-five leads. Thirty-five, thirty-five, said Dick pitulently. Don't temper with holy writ. Go on, Neil Guy. The first land we made it was called the Dead Man and the sang to the end very vigorously. That would be a better song if her head were turned the other way. To the usian light, for instance, said the Neil Guy, flinging his arms about like a mad windmill. Sat up and howl. Give us something else, Neil Guy. You are in fine fog horn form tonight. Give us the Ganges pilot. You sang that in the square the night before Almagrib. By the way, I wonder how many of the chorus are alive tonight. Said Dick. Torpenhow considered for a minute. By Jove, I believe only you and I, Rainer, Weissry and Deans, all dead. Vincent caught a smallpox in Cairo, carried it here and died of it. Yes, only you and I and the Neil Guy. And yet the men here who have done their work in a well-warmed studio all their lives with a policeman at each corner say that I charge too much for my pictures. They are buying your work, not your insurance policies, dear child. Said the Neil Guy. I gambled with one to get at the other. Don't preach. Go on with the pilot. Where in the world did you get that song? On a tombstone. Said the Neil Guy. On a tombstone in distant land, I made it an accompaniment with heaps of base cords. Oh, vanity. Begin. And the Neil Guy began. I slipped my cable, mess mates. I am drifting down with the tide. I have my sailing orders while yet an anchor ride. And never on fair June morning have I put out to sea with clearer conscience or better hope or a heart more light and free. Shoulder to shoulder, Joe, my boy, into the crowd like a wedge. Strike with the hangers, mess mates, but do not cut with the edge. Christ your knock. Scatter the faggots, double that Brahmin in two. The tall pale widow for me, Joe, the little brown girl for you. Young Joe, you're nearing sixty. Why is your hide so dark? Katie has soft fair blue eyes, who blackened yours? Why, hark? They were all singing now, dick with the roar of the wind of the open sea about his ears as the deep bass voice let itself go. The morning gun, ho, steady, the arcabuses to me. I has sounded the Dutch high admiral's heart as my lead doth sound the sea. Sounding, sounding the gauges floating down with the tide, more me close to Charnac next to my nut-brown bride. My blessing to Kate at Fairlite, hall well, my thanks to you. Steady we steer for heaven through sand drifts cold and blue. Now what is there in that nonsense to make a man restless? Said dick, hauling binky from his feet to his chest. It bends on the man. Said Torpenhau. The man who has been down to look at the sea. Said the kneel guy. I didn't know she was going to upset me in this fashion. That's what men say when they go to say goodbye to a woman. It's more easy to get rid of three women than a piece of one's life and surroundings. But a woman can be began dick unguardedly. A piece of one's life. Continue Torpenhau. No, she can't. His face darkened for a moment. She says she wants to sympathize with you and help you in your work and everything else that clearly a man must do for himself. Then she sends round five notes a day to ask why the dickens you haven't been wasting your time with her. Don't generalize. Said the kneel guy. By the time you arrive at five notes a day, you must have gone through a good deal and behaved accordingly. Shouldn't begin these things, my son. I shouldn't have gone down to the sea. Said dick, just a little anxious to change the conversation. And you shouldn't have sung. The sea isn't sending you five notes a day. Said the kneel guy. No, but I'm fatally compromised. She's an enduring old hag and I'm sorry I ever met her. Why wasn't I born and bred and dead in a three-pair back? Hear him blaspheming his first love. Why in the world shouldn't you listen to her? Said Torpenhau. Before dick could reply, the kneel guy lifted up his voice with a shout that shook the windows. In the men of the sea, that begins as all know, the sea is a wicked old woman. And after raiding through eight lines whose imagery is truthful and in a refrain, slow as the clacking of a capstan, when the boat comes unwillingly up to the bars where the men sweat and tramp in the shingle. Ye that bore us or restore us, she's kinder than ye. For the call is on our heart strings, said the men of the sea. The kneel guy sang that verse twice with simple cunning, intending that dick should hear. But dick was waiting for the farewell of the men to their wives. Ye that love us can ye move us, she's dearer than ye. And your sleep will be the sweeter, said the men of the sea. The rough words beat like the blows of the waves on the bows of the rickety boat. From Lyma in the days when dick was mixing paints, making love, drawing devils and angels in the half dark, and wondering whether the next minute would put the Italian captain's knife between his shoulder blades. And the go fever, which is more real than many doctor's diseases, waked and raged, urging him who loved Maisie beyond anything in the world, to go away and taste the old hot, unregenerate life again. Whose cuffles swear gamble and love-light loves with his fellows, to take ship and know the sea once more, and buy her bagged pictures to talk to Binat. Among the sands of port said, while yellow Tina mixed the drinks to hear the crackle of musketry, and see the smoke roll outward, thin and thicken again till the shining black faces came through, and in that hell every man was strictly responsible for his own head, and his own alone, and is struck with an unfettered arm. It was impossible, utterly impossible, but oh, our father's in the churchyard, she's older than gay, and our graves will be the greener, said the men of the sea. What is there to hinder? Said Torpenhau in the long hush that followed the song. You said a little time since that you wouldn't come for a walk around the world, Torpenhau. That was months ago, and I only objected to your making money for travelling expenses. You've shot your bolt here, and it has gone home. Go away and do some work and see some things. Get some of the fat off you, you're disgracefully out of condition. Said the kneel guy making a plunge from the chair, and grasping a handful of dick generally over the right ribs. Soft as furry. Pure tallow-born of overfeeding. Train it off, Dicky. We are all equally cross kneel guy. Next time you have to take the field, you'll sit down, wink your eyes, gasp and die in a fit. Never mind, you go away on a ship. Go to Lime again, or to Brazil. There's always trouble in South America. Do you suppose I want to be told where to go? Great heavens, the only difficulty is to know where I'm going to stop. But I shall stay here, as I have told you before. Then you'll be buried in Cancel Green and turn into Eddie Passaire with the others. Said Torpe and Hau. Are you thinking of commissions in hand? Pay for feed and go. You have money enough to travel as a king, if you please. You have the grizzliest notions of amusement, Torpe. I think I see myself shipping first class on a 6,000 ton hotel, and asking the third engineer what makes the engines go round, and whether it isn't very warm in the stoke hold. Ho, ho. I should ship as a loafer if ever. I shipped at all, which I am not going to do. I shall compromise and go for a small ship to begin with. That's something at any rate. Where will you go? Said Torpe and Hau. It would do you all the good in the world, old man. The Neil guy saw the twinkle index I, and refrained from his speech. I shall go in the first place to Rathrae's stable, where I shall hire one horse and take him very carefully as far as Richmond Hill. Then I shall walk him back again in case he should accidentally burst into lather and make Rathrae angry. I shall do that tomorrow for the sake of air and exercise. Bah! Dick had barely time to throw up his arm and ward off the cushion that the disgust is Torpe and Hau heaved at his head. Air and exercise indeed. Said the Neil guy sitting down heavily on Dick. Let's give him a little of both. Get the bellows, Torpe. At this point the conference broke up in disorder because Dick would not open his mouth till the Neil guy held his nose past and there was some trouble enforcing the nozzle of the bellows between his teeth. And even when it was there, he weakly tried to puff against the force of the blast and his cheeks blew up with a great explosion and the enemy becoming helpless with laughter. He so beat them over the head with a soft sofa cushion that then became unshewn and distributed its feathers and binky interfering in Torpe and Hau's interests was bundled into the half-empty bag and advised to scratch his way out which he did after a while. Traveling rapidly up and down the floor in the shape of an agitated green haggis. And when he came out looking for satisfaction, the three pillars of his world were picking feathers out of their hair. A prophet has no honour in his own country. Said Dick roofily dusting his knees. This filthy fluff will never brush off my legs. It was all for your own good. Said the Neil guy. Nothing like air and exercise. All for your good. Said Torpe and Hau not in the least with reference to past clowning. It would let you focus things at their proper worth and prevent your becoming slack in this hot house of town. Indeed it would old man. I shouldn't have spoken if I hadn't thought so. Only you make a joke of everything. Before God I do know such thing. Said Dick quickly and earnestly. You don't know me if you think that. I don't think it. Said the Neil guy. How can fellows like ourselves who know what life and death really mean dare to make a joke of anything? I know we pretended to save ourselves from breaking down or going to the other extreme. Can't I see old man how you're always anxious about me and try to advise me to make my work better? Do you suppose I don't think about that myself? But you can't help me. You can't help me. Not even you. I must play my own hand alone in my own way. Here here. From the Neil guy. What's the one thing in the Neil guy saga that I have never drawn in the Nangapunga book? Dick continued to Torpe and Hau who was a little astonished at the outburst. Now there was one blank page in the book given over to the sketch that Dick had not drawn of the crowning exploit in the Neil guy's life when that man being young and forgetting that his body and bones belong to the paper that employed him had ridden over sunburn slippery truss in the rear of Brido's Brigade on the day that the troopers flung themselves at Corobor's artillery and for odd the new 20 battalions in front to save the better 24th German infantry to give time to decide the fate of Wyandville and to learn ear their remnant came back to Flavigay that cavalry can attack and crumple and break unshaken infantry whenever he was inclined to think over a life that might have been better and income that might have been larger and a soul that might have been considerably cleaner the Neil guy would comfort himself with one thought I rode with Brido's Brigade at Wyandville and take heart for any lesser battle the next day might bring I know he said very gravely I was always glad that he left it out I left it out because Neil guy taught me what the German army learned then and what Schmidt taught their cavalry I don't know German what is it take care of the time and the dressing will take care of itself I must ride my own line to my own beat old man tempest rich tongue you've learned your lesson well said the Neil guy he must go alone he speaks truth Torp maybe I'm as wrong as I can be hideously wrong I must find that out for myself as I have to think things out for myself but I didn't turn my head to dress by the next man it hurts me a great deal more than you know not to be able to go but I cannot that's all I must do my own work and live my own life in my own way because I'm responsible for both only don't think I frivol about it Torp I have my own matches and sulphur and I'll make my own hell thanks there was an uncomfortable pause then Torpen House said blandly what did the governor of North Carolina say to the governor of South Carolina excellent notion it is a long time between drinks there are the makings of a very fine friggin you dick said the Neil guy I've liberated my mind as timable binky with the feathers in his mouth they picked up the still indignant one and shook him tenderly you're tied up in a sack and made to run about blind binky wee without any reason and it has hurt your little feelings never mind sick follow six you be a stead pro-racian voluntas and don't sneeze in my eye because I talk Latin good night he went out of the room that's distinctly one for you said the Neil guy I told you it was hopeless to meddle with him he's not pleased he it's where at me if he weren't I can't make it out he has the go fever upon him and he won't go I only hope that he may not have to go someday when he doesn't want to set Torpen House in his own room dick was settling a question with himself and the question was whether all the world and all that was there in and a burning desire to exploit both was worth one three penny piece thrown into the Thames it came off seeing the sea and I'm occur to think about it he decided after all the honeymoon will be that tour with reservations only only I didn't realize that the sea was so strong I didn't feel so much when I was with Maisie these damnable songs did it he's beginning again but it was only herics night piece to Julia that the Neil guy sang and before it was ended dick reappeared on the threshold not all together clothed indeed but in his right mind thirsty and at peace the mode had come and gone with the raising and the falling of the tide by Ford Keeling and of section 12 section 13 of the light that felt this is the Libri Vox recording or Libri Vox recording so in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit Libri Vox.org recording by Ted Newton the light that felt by root dad Keeling chapter 9 part 1 if I have taken the common clay and rotted cunningly in the shape of a god that was dig the cloth the greater honor to me if thou has taken the common clay and I hence be not free from the tent of the soil thou has met this boy the greater shame to thee the two potters he did no work of any kind for the rest of the week then came another Sunday he dreaded and long for the day always but since the red-haired girl had the scratched him there was rather more dread than desire in his mind he found that Maisie had entirely neglected his suggestions about line work she had gone off at score filed with some absurd notion for a fancy head it cost it something to command his temper was the good of suggesting anything he said pointedly ah but this would be a picture a real picture and I know that Kami will let me send it to the salon you don't mind do you I suppose not but he would have time for the salon Maisie hesitated a little she even felt uncomfortable with going over to France a month sooner because of it I shall get the ideas scratched out here and work it up at commerce digs hot stood still and he came very near to being disgusted with his queen who could do no wrong just when I thought I had made some headway she goes off chasing butterflies is too maddening there was no possibility of argument for the red head girl was in the studio they could only look an utterable reproach I'm sorry he said and I think you make a mistake but what's the idea of your new picture I took it from a book that's bad to begin with books on the places for pictures and it's this said the red head girl behind him I was reading it to Maisie the other day from the city of dreadful nights do you know the book a little I'm sorry I spoke they are pictures in it what has taken a fancy the description of the melancholia her folded wings as of a mighty eagle but all too impotent to lift the regal robustness of her earthbound strength and pride and here again Maisie get the tedium the forehead charged with baleful thoughts and dreams the household bunch of peas the house wives gown voluminous intended and rigid as though a shallow burnish metal frigid her fifth thick shot to treat all weakness down there was no attempt to conceal the scorn of the lazy voice dick winced but that has been done already by an upkeep artist by the name of Jira said he how does the poem run three centuries and three scores ago with fantasies of his peculiar thought you might as well try to rewrite Hamlet it will be a waste of time no it won't said Maisie putting down the tea cups with the clatter to reassure herself and I mean to do it can you see what the beautiful thing it would make how in petition can one do work when one hasn't had the proper training and full can get the notion in his training to drive the thing through training and conviction not rushing after the first fancy dick spoke between his stiff you don't understand said Maisie I think I can do it again the voice of the girl behind him baffled and brittle back she works on still wary and sick of soul she works the more sustained by her indomitable will the hand shall fashion and the brain shall poor and all her sorrow shall be turned to labor I fancy Maisie means to embody herself in the picture sitting on a throne of rejected pictures no I shun dear the notion in itself has fascinated me of course you don't care for fancy has dick I don't think you could do them you like blood and bones that's the direct challenge if you can do a melancholia that isn't Mary a sorrowful female head I can do a better one and I will too what you know about melancholias dick firmly believed that he was even then testing three quarters of all the sorrow in the world she was a woman said Maisie and she suffered the great deal till she could suffer no more then she began to laugh at it all and then I painted her and sent her to the salon the red-haired girl rose up and left the room laughing dick looked at Maisie humbly and hopelessly never mind about the picture he said are you really going back to commerce for a month before your time I must if I want to get the picture done and that's all you want of course don't be stupid dick you haven't the power you have only the ideas the ideas and the little chip impulses how could you have kept at your work for tennis did really is a mystery to me so you are really going a month before you need I must do my work your work no I didn't mean that that's all right dear of course you must do your work and I think I'll say goodbye for this week won't you even stay for tea no thank you have I a leaf to go dear there's nothing more you particularly want me to do and the line work doesn't matter I wish you could stay and then you could talk over my picture if only one single picture success it draws attention to all the others I know some of my work is good if only people could see actually didn't have been so rude about it I'm sorry we can talk the melancholy over some of the other Sundays there are four more yes one two three four before you go goodbye Maisie Maisie stood by the studio window thinking till the red-haired girl returned a little white at the corners of her lips this gone off said Maisie just when I wanted to talk about the picture isn't it selfish of him her companion opened her lips as if to speak shut them again and went on reading the city of breathful nights dig was in the park walking round and round a tree that he had chosen as his confidant for many Sunday's past he was swearing audibly and when he found that the infirmities of the English Tom Hamden his bridge he sought consolation in Arabic which is expressly designed for the use of the afflicted he was not pleased with the reward of his patient service nor was he pleased with himself and it was long before he arrived at the proposition that the queen could do no wrong is the losing game he said I'm worth nothing when a whim of hers is in question but in a losing game at port said we used to double the stakes and go on she do a melancholia she hasn't the power or the insight or the training only the desire she's cursed with the curse of Robin she won't do a line work because it means real work and yet she's stronger than I am I'll make her understand that I can beat her on her old melancholia even then she wouldn't care she says I can only do blood and bones I don't believe she had blood in her veins all the same I love her and I must go on loving her and if I can't humble her in ordinary vanity I will I'll do a melancholia that shall be something like a melancholia the melancholia that transcends all width I'll do it that once corn bless her he discovered that the notion would not come to order and that he could not free his mind for an hour from the thought of Macy's departure he took very small interest in her rough studies for the melancholia when she showed them next week the Sundays were raising past and the time was at hand when all the church bells in London could not bring Macy back to him once or twice he said something to binky about her methodic futilities but the little doc received so many confidences both from Toppenhow and dick that he did not trouble his two years to listen dick was permitted to see the girls off they were going by the Dover night boat and they hoped to return in August it was then February and dick felt that he was being hardly used Macy was so busy stripping the small house across the park and parking her canvases that she had not time for thoughts dick went down to Dover and rested a day there fighting over a wonderful possibility would Macy at the very last allowed him one small kiss he reflected that he might capture her by the strong as he has seen women captures in the southern Sudan and lead her away but Macy would never be led she would turn her grey eyes upon him and say dick how selfish you are then his courage would fill him it would be better after all to beg for that kiss Macy looked more than usually kissable as she stepped from the night mail on to the windy pier in a grey waterproof and the little grey cloth traveling cap the red-haired girl was not so lovely her green eyes were hollow and her lips were dry dick saw the trunks abroad and went to Macy's site in the darkness under the bridge the mail bags were thundering into the four holes and the red-haired girl was watching them you'll have a rough passage tonight said dick is blowing outside I suppose I may come over and see you if I'm good you mustn't I shall be busy at least if I want to I'll send for you but I shall run from victory so money I shall have hips of things to consult you about oh tick you have been so good to me so good to me thank you for that dear it hasn't made any different has it I can't tell a fib it hasn't in that way but don't think I'm not grateful damn the gratitude said dick huskily to the paddle box what's the use of worrying you know I should ruin your life and you ruined mine as things are now you remember what you said when he was so angry that day in the park one of us has to be broken can't you wait until that day comes no love I want you unbroken all to myself Macy shook her head my poor dick what can I say don't say anything give me a kiss only one kiss Macy I'll swear I won't take anymore you might as well and then I can be sure you are grateful Macy put her chick forward and it took his reward in the darkness it was only one kiss but since there was no time limit specified it was a long one Macy ranged herself free and really and they stood the best and tinkling from head to toe goodbye darling I didn't mean to scare you I'm sorry only keep well and do good work especially the melancholia I'm going to do one too remember me to come in and be careful what you drink country drinking water is bad everywhere but is worse in France right to me if you want anything and goodbye say goodbye to the whatever you call a girl and can't I have another kiss no you're quite right goodbye I should tell him that it was not simply to charge of the mail back incline he reached the pier as the steamer began to move off and he followed her with his heart and there is nothing nothing in the white wall to keep us apart except her obstinacy this callate diapers are much too small I'll get top to ride to the papers about it she's going to pitch already Macy stood where dick has left her till she heard a little gasping cough at her elbow the redhead girl's eye were a light with cold flame he kissed you she said how could you let him when he wasn't anything to you how dare you take a kiss from him oh Maisie let's go to the latest cabin I'm sick gradually sick we aren't into open water yet go down dear I'll stay here I don't like the smell of the engines poor tick he deserved one only one but I didn't think he frightened me so dick returned to town next day just in time for lunch for which he had telegraphed to his disgust there were only empty plates in the studio he lifted up his voice like the bears in the fairy tale and top and how entered King guilty she said he don't make such a noise I took it come into my rooms and I'll show you why end of section 13 section 14 of the light that failed this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Richard Kilmer the light that failed by Rudyard Kipling chapter 9 part 2 dick paused amazed at the threshold from torpenhouse sofa lay a girl asleep and breathing heavily the little cheap sailor hat the blue and white dress fitter for June than for February dabbled with mud at the skirts the jacket trimmed with imitation astrakhan and ripped at the shoulder seams the one and eleven penny umbrella and above all the disgraceful condition of the kid top boots declared all things all I say old man this is too bad you mustn't bring the sword up here they steal things from rooms it looks bad I admit but I was coming in after lunch and she staggered into the hall I thought she was drunk at first but it was collapse I couldn't leave her as she was so I brought her up here for your lunch she was fainting from one of food she went fast asleep the minute she had finished I know something of that complaint she's been living on sausages I suppose Torp you should have handed her over to a policeman for presuming to faint in a respectable house poor little wretch look at the face there isn't an ounce of immorality in it only folly slack, fatuous, feeble futile folly it's a typical head do you notice how the skull begins to show through the flesh patting on the face and cheekbone what a cold blood at barbarian it is don't hit a woman when she's down can't we do anything she was simply dropping with starvation she almost fell into my arms and when she got to the food she ate like a wild beast it was horrible I can give her money which she would probably spend in drinks is she going to sleep forever? the girl opened her eyes and glared at the men between terror and frontry feeling better, said Torp and Hal? yes, thank you there aren't many gentlemen that are as kind as you are thank you when did you leave service, said Dick who had been watching the scarred and chapped hands how did you know I was in service I was general servant I didn't like it and how do you like being your own mistress do I look as if I liked it I suppose not one moment would you be good enough to turn your face to the window the girl obeyed and Dick watched her face keenly so keenly that she made as if to hide behind Torp and Hal the eyes have it, said Dick walking up and down they are superb eyes for my business and after all every head depends on the eyes this has been sent from heaven to make up for what was taken away now the weekly strains off my shoulders I can get to work in earnest evidently sent from heaven yes raise your chin a little please gently old man gently you're scaring someone out of her wits said Torp and Hal who could see the girl trembling don't let him hit me oh please don't let him hit me I've been hit cruel today because I spoke to a man don't let him look at me like that he's regular wicked that one don't let him look at me like that neither oh I feel as if I had nothing on when he looks at me like that the overstrained nerves in the frail body gave way and the girl wept like a little child and began to scream Dick threw open the window and Torp and Hal flung the door back there you are said Dick soothingly my friend here can call for a policeman and you can run through that door nobody is going to hurt you the girl sobbed convulsively for a few minutes and then tried to laugh nothing in the world to hurt you now listen to me for a minute I'm what they call an artist by profession you know what artists do they draw things in red and black ink on the pop shop labels I dare say I haven't risen the pop shop labels yet those are done by academia's I want to draw your head what for? because it's pretty that is why you will come to the room across the landing three times a week at 11 in the morning and I'll give you three quid a week just for sitting still and being drawn and there's a quid on account for nothing? oh my the girl turned the sovereign in her hand and with more foolish tears ain't neither of you two gentlemen afraid of my bilking you? no only ugly girls do that try and remember this place and by the way what's your name? I'm Bessek Bessey it's no use giving the rest Bessey broke stone broke if you like what's your names? but there no one ever gives the real ones Dick consulted Torpenhal with his eyes my name's Helder and my friend's called Torpenhal and you must be sure to come here where do you live? south the water one room five and six pence a week aren't you making fun of me about that three quid? you'll see later on and Bessey next time you come remember you needn't wear the paint it's bad for the skin and I have all the colors you'll be likely to need Bessey withdrew scrubbing her cheek with a ragged pocket handkerchief the two men looked at each other you're a man said Torpenhal I'm afraid I've been a fool it isn't our business to run about the earth reforming Bessey brooks and a woman of any kind has no right on this landing perhaps she won't come back she will if she thinks she can get food and warmth here I know she will worse luck but remember old man she isn't a woman she's my model and be careful the idea she's a disillute little scarecrow a gutter snippet and nothing more so you think wait till she's been fed a little and freed from fear the fair type recovers itself very quickly you won't know her in a week or two when that abject fear has died out of her eyes she'll be too happy and smiling for my purposes but surely you're not taking her out of charity to please me I'm not in the habit of playing with hot coals to please anybody she has been sent from heaven as I may have remarked before to help me with my melancholia never heard a word about the lady before what's the use of having a friend if you must sling your notions at him in words you ought to know what I'm thinking about you've heard me grunt lately even so but grunts means anything in your language from bad backie to wicked dealers and I don't think I've been much in your confidence for some time it was a high and soulful grunt you ought to have understood that it meant the melancholia Dick walked torpenhow up and down the room keeping silence then he smote him in the ribs now don't you see it? Bessie's abject futility and the terror in her eyes welded to one or two details in the way of sorrow that have come under my experience lately likewise some orange and black two keys of each but I can't explain on an empty stomach it sounds mad enough you'd better stick to your soldier's dick instead of mondering about heads and eyes and experiences think so? Dick began to dance on his heels singing there's proud as a turkey when they hold the ready cash you ought to hear them when they laugh and joke they're tricky and they're funny when they've got the ready money I'll but see them when they're all stone broke then he sat down to pour out his heart to Macy in a four sheet letter of counsel and encouragement and registered an oath that he would get to work with an undivided heart as soon as Bessie should reappear the girl kept her appointment unpainted and unadorned afraid and overly bold by turns when she found that she was merely expected to sit still she grew calmer and criticized the appointments of the studio with freedom at some point she liked the warmth and the comfort and the release from fear of physical pain Dick made two or three studies of her head in monochrome but the actual notion of the melancholia would not arrive what a mess you keep your things in said Bessie some days later when she felt herself thoroughly at home I suppose your clothes are just as bad gentlemen never think what buttons and tape are made for I buy things to wear and wear them till they go to pieces I don't know what Tolkien Howe does Bessie made diligent inquiry in the latter's room and unearthed a bale of disreputable socks some of these I'll mend now she said and some I'll take home do you know I sit all day long at home doing nothing just like a lady and no more noticing them other girls in the house than if they were so many flies I don't have any unnecessary words but I put them down quick I can tell you when they talk to me no it's quite nice these days I lock my door and they can only call me names through the keyhole and I sit inside just like a lady mending socks Mr. Torpenhowe wears his socks out both ends at once three quid a week from me and the lights of my society no socks mended nothing from Torpe except a knot on the landing now and again and all the socks mended Bessie is very much a woman thought dick and he looked at her between half shut eyes food and rest had transformed the girl as dick knew they would what are you looking at me like that for she said quickly don't you look regular bad when you look that way you don't think much of me do you that depends on how you behave Bessie behaved beautifully only it was difficult at the end of a sitting to bid her go out into the gray streets she very much preferred the studio and a big chair by the stove with some socks on her lap has an excuse for delay then Torpenhowe would come in and Bessie would be moved to tell strange and wonderful stories of her past and still stranger ones of her present improved circumstances she would make them tea as though she had a right to make it and once or twice on these occasions dick caught Torpenhowe's eyes fixed on the trim little figure and because Bessie's flittings about the room made dick ardently long for Maisie he realized with her Torpenhowe's thoughts were tempting and Bessie was exceedingly careful of the condition of Torpenhowe's linen she spoke very little to him but sometimes they talk together on the landing I was a great fool dick said to himself I know what red firelight looks like when a man's tramping through a strange town and ours is a lonely selfish life at the best I wonder Maisie doesn't feel that sometimes but I can't order Bessie away that's the worst of beginning things one never knows where they stop one evening after a sitting prolonged to the last limit of the light dick was roused from a nap by a broken voice in Torpenhowe's room he jumped to his feet now what ought I to do it looks foolish to go in oh bless you binky the little terrier thrust Torpenhowe's door open with his nose and came out to take possession of dick's chair the door swung wide unheeded and dick across the landing could see Bessie in the half light making her little supplication to Torpenhowe she was kneeling by his side and her hands were clasped across his knee I know I know she said thickly it isn't right of me to do this but I can't help it and you were so kind so kind and you never took any notice of me and I've mended all your things so carefully I did oh please Tizen as if I was asking you to marry me I wouldn't think of it but you couldn't you take and live with me to miss right comes along I'm only miss wrong I know but I'd work my hands to the bare bones for you and I'm not ugly to look at say you will recognize Tokenhowe's voice and reply but look here it's no use I'm liable to be ordered off anywhere at a minute's notice if a war breaks out at a minute's notice dear what does that matter until you go then until you go tisn't much I'm asking and you don't know how good I can cook she'd put an arm around his neck and was drawing his head down until I go then he'd put his neck across the landing he could hardly steady his voice come here a minute old man I'm in trouble heaven send he'll listen to me there was something very like an oath from Bessie's lips she was afraid of Dick and disappeared down the staircase in a panic but it seemed an age before Tokenhowe entered the studio he went to the mantelpiece buried his head on his arms and groaned like a wounded bull to interfere he said at last who's interfering with which your own sense told you long ago you couldn't be such a fool it was a tough rack Saint Anthony but you're all right now I ought to have seen her moving about these rooms as if they belong to her that's what upset me it gives a lonely man a sort of hankering doesn't it sit Tokenhowe pietously now you talk sense it does but since you aren't in a condition to have the disadvantages of double housekeeping do you know what you're going to do I don't I wish I did you're going away for a season on a brilliant tour to regain tone you're going to Brighton or Scarborough or Prawl Point to see the ships go by and you're going at once isn't it odd I'll take care of Binky but out you go immediately never resist the devil he holds the bank fly from him pack your things and go I believe you're right where shall I go and you call yourself a special correspondent pack first and inquire afterwards an hour later Tokenhowe was dispatched into the night for a handsome you'll probably think of some place to go while you're moving said Dick on to Houston to begin with and oh yes get drunk tonight he returned to the studio and lighted more candles to mark oh you Jezebel you feudal little Jezebel won't you hate me tomorrow Binky come here Binky turned over on his back on the hearth rug and Dick stirred him with a meditative foot I said she was not immoral I was wrong she said she could cook that showed premeditated sin oh Binky if you are a man you will go to perdition you will go to a much worse place end of section 14 recording by Richard Kilmer Rio Medina, Texas section 15 of the light that failed this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Gary Coy the light that failed by Rudyard Kipling chapter 10 what's you that follows at my side the foe that ye must fight my lord that herple swift as I can ride the shadow of the night my lord that wheel my horse against the foe he's down and over past my lord ye war against the sunset glow the darkness gathers fast my lord the fight of Harriet's Ford the fight of Harriet's Ford this is a cheerful life said Dick some days later torps away Bessie hates me I can't get at the notion of the melancholia Maisie's letters are scrappy and I believe I have indigestion what give a man pains across the head and spots before his eyes Binky shall us take some liver pills Dick had just gone through a lively scene with Bessie she had for the fiftieth time reproached him for sending Torpenhau away she explained her enduring hatred for Dick and made it clear to him that she only sat for the sake of his money and Mr. Torpenhau is ten times a better man than you, she concluded he is that's why he went away I should have stayed and made love to you the girl sat with her chin on her hand scowling to me I'd like to catch you if I wasn't afraid of being hung I'd kill you that's what I'd do do you believe me Dick smiled weirdly it is not pleasant to live in the company of a notion that will not work out a fox terrier that cannot talk and a woman who talks too much he would have answered but at that moment there unrolled itself from one corner of the studio a veil as it were of the flimsiest gauze he rubbed his eyes but the gray haze would not go this is a disgraceful indigestion Binky we will go to a medicine man we can't have our eyes interfered with for by these we get our bread also mutton chop bones for little dogs the doctor was an affable local practitioner with white hair and he said nothing till Dick began to describe the gray film in the studio we all want a little patching and repairing from time to time he chirped like a ship my dear sir exactly like a ship sometimes the hull is out of order and we consult the surgeon sometimes the rigging and then I advise sometimes the engines and we go to the brain specialist sometimes the lookout on the bridge is tired and then we see an oculus I should recommend you see an oculus a little patching and repairing from time to time is all we want an oculus by all means Dick sawed an oculus the best in London he was certain that the local practitioner did not know anything about his trade and more certain that Maisie would laugh at him if you were forced to wear spectacles I've neglected the warnings of my lord the stomach too long hence these spots before the eyes Binky I can see as well as I ever could as he entered the dark hall that led to the consulting room a man canned against him Dick saw the faces that hurried out into the street that's the writer type he has the same modeling of the forehead as Torp he looks very sick probably heard something he didn't like even as he thought a great fear came upon Dick a fear that made him hold his breath as he walked into the oculus waiting room with a heavy card furniture the dark green paper and the sober huge prints on the wall he recognized a reproduction of one of his own sketches many people were waiting their turn before him his eye was caught by a flaming red and gold Christmas Carol book little children came to that eye doctor and they needed large type amusement that's idolatrous bad art he said drawing the book towards himself from the anatomy of the angels it has been made in Germany he opened in mechanically and their leap to his eyes are first printed in red ink the next good joy that Mary had it was the joy of three to see her good son Jesus Christ making the blind to see making the blind to see good lord and happy we may be praise father son and holy ghost to all eternity Dick read and reread the verse till his turn came and the doctor was bending above him seated in an arm chair the blaze of the gas microscope in his eyes made him wince the doctor's hand touched the scar the sword cut on Dick's head and Dick explained briefly how he had come by it when the flame was removed Dick saw the doctor's face and the fear came upon him again the doctor wrapped himself in a mist of words Dick caught illusions of scar frontal bone optic nerve extreme caution and the avoidance of a mental anxiety verdict he said faintly my business is painting and I dare not waste time what do you make of it again the whirl of words but this time they conveyed a meaning can you give me anything to drink many sentences were pronounced in that darkened room and the prisoners often needed cheering Dick found a glass of liquor brandy in his hand as far as I can gather he said coughing above the spirit you call it decay of the optic nerve or something and therefore hopeless what is my time limit avoiding all strain and worry perhaps one year my god and if I don't take care of myself I really could not say one cannot ascertain the exact amount of injury inflicted by the sword cut the scar is an old one an exposure to the strong light of the desert did you say with excessive application to find work I really could not say I beg your pardon without any warning if you will let me I'll sit here for a minute and then I'll go you've been very good in telling me the truth without any warning without any warning thanks Dick went into the street and was rapturously received by Binky we've got it very badly little dog just as badly as we can get it we'll go to the park to think it out they headed for a certain tree that Dick knew well and they sat down to thin because his legs were trembling under him and there was cold fear at the pit of his stomach how could it have come without any warning it's a sudden as being shot it's the living death Binky we're to be shut up in the dark in one year if we're careful and we shan't see anybody and we shall never have anything we want not that we live to be a hundred Binky wagged his tail joyously Binky we must think let's see how it feels to be blind Dick shut his eyes and flaming commas and Catherine wheels floated inside the lids yet when he looked across the park the scope of his vision was not contracted he could see perfectly until a procession of slow-wheeling fireworks defiled across his eyeballs little dorglems we aren't at all well let's go home if only Torp were back now but Torp and Howe was in the south of England inspecting dockyards in the company of Neil Guy his letters were brief and full of mystery Dick had never asked anybody to help him in his joys or his sorrows he argued in the loneliness of his studio henceforward to be decorated with a film of gray gauze in one corner that if his fate were blindness all the Torp and Howe's in the world could not save him I can't call him off his trip to sit down and sympathize with me I must pull through this business alone he said he was lying on the sofa eating his mustache and wondering what the darkness of the night would be like then came to his mind the memory of a quaint scene in Sudan a soldier had been nearly hacked in two by a broad bladed Arab spear for one instance the man felt no pain looking down he saw that his lifeblood was going from him the stupid bewilderment on his face was so intensely comic that both Dick and Torp and Howe still panting and unstrung from a fight for life had roared with laughter in which the man seemed as if he would join but as his lips parted in a sheepish grin the agony of death came upon him and he pitched grunting at their feet Dick laughed again remembering the horror it seemed so exactly like his own case but I have a little more time allowed me he said he paced up and down the room quietly at first but afterwards with the hurried feet of fear it was as though a black shadow stood at his elbow and urged him to go forward and there were only weaving circles and floating pin dots before his eyes we need to be calm Binky we must be calm he talked aloud for the sake of distraction this isn't nice at all what shall we do we must do something our time is short I shouldn't have believed it this morning but now things are different Binky where was Moses when the light went out Binky smiled from ear to ear as a well-bred terrier should but made no suggestion were there but world enough in time this coyness Binky we're not crime but at my back I always hear he wiped his forehead which was unpleasantly damp what can I do what can I do I haven't any notions left and I can't think connectedly but I must do something or else I'll go off my head the hurried walk recommenced Dick's stopping every now and again to drag forth long neglected canvases and old notebooks for he turned to his work by instinct as a thing that could not fail you won't do and you won't do, he said at each inspection no more soldiers I couldn't paint them sudden death comes home too nearly and this is battle and murder for me the day was failing and Dick thought for a moment that the twilight of the blind had come upon him unaware Allah Almighty he cried despairingly help me through the time of waiting and I won't whine when my punishment comes what can I do now before the light goes there was no answer Dick waited till he could regain some sort of control over himself his hands were shaking and he prided himself on their steadiness he could feel that his lips were quivering and the sweat was running down his face he was lashed by fear driven forward by the desire to get to work at once and accomplish something and maddened by the refusal of his brain to do more than repeat the news that he was about to go blind it's a humiliating exhibition, he thought and I'm glad Torpe isn't here to see the doctor said I was to avoid mental worry come here and let me pet you Binky the little dog yelped because Dick nearly squeezed the bark out of him then he heard the man speaking in the twilight and dog-like understood that his trouble stood off from him Allah is good Binky not quite so gentle as we could wish but we'll discuss that later I think I see my way to it now all those studies of Bessie's head were nonsense and they nearly brought your master into a scrape I hold the notion now as clear as crystal the melancholia that transcends all wit there shall be Maisie in that head because I shall never get Maisie and Bess of course because she knows all about melancholia though she doesn't know she knows and there shall be some drawing in it and it shall all end up with a laugh that's for myself shall she giggle or grin no, she shall laugh right out of the canvas and every man and woman that ever had a sorrow of their own what is it the poem says understand the speech and feel a stir in all disastrous fight in all disastrous fight that's better than painting the thing merely to peek Maisie I can do it now because I have it inside me Binky I'm glad to hold you up by your tail you're an omen, come here Binky swung head downward for a moment without speaking rather like holding a guinea pig but you're a brave little dog and you don't yelp when you're hung up it is an omen Binky went to his own chair and as often as he looked saw Dick walking up and down rubbing his hands and chuckling that night Dick wrote a letter to Maisie full of the tenderest regard for her health but saying very little about his own and dreamed of the melancholia to be born not till morning did he remember that something might happen to him in the future he fell to work whistling softly and was swallowed up in the clean clear joy of creation which does not come to man too often he should consider himself the equal of his God and so refused to die at the appointed time he forgot Maisie, Torp and Howe and Binky at his feet but remembered to stir Bessie who needed very little stirring into a tremendous rage that he might watch the smoldering lights in her eyes he threw himself without reservation into his work and did not think of the doom that was to overtake him for he was possessed with his notion and the things of this world had no power upon him you're pleased today, said Bessie Dick waved his small stick in mystic circles and went to the sideboard for a drink in the evening when the exaltation of the day had died down he went to the sideboard again and after some visits became convinced that the doctor was a liar since he could still see everything very clearly he was of opinion that he would even take a home for Maisie and that whether she liked it or not she should be his wife the mood passed next morning but the sideboard and all upon it remained for his comfort again he set to work and his eyes troubled him with spots and dashes and blurs till he had taken counsel with the sideboard and the melancholia both on the canvas and in his own mind appeared lovelier than ever there was a delightful sense of irresponsibility upon him such as they feel who walking among their fellow men know that the death sentence of disease is upon them and seeing that fear is but waste of the little time left are riotously happy the days passed without a vent Maisie arrived punctually always and though her voice seemed to dick to come from a distance her face was always very near the melancholia began to flame on the canvas in the likeness of a woman who had known all the sorrow in the world and was laughing at it it was true that the corners of the studio draped themselves in grey film and retired into the darkness that the spots in his eyes and the pains across his head were very troublesome and that Maisie's letters were hard to read and harder still to answer he could not tell her of his trouble and he could not laugh at her accounts of her own melancholia which was always going to be finished but the furious days of toil and the nights of wild dreams made amends for all and the sideboard was his best friend on earth Maisie was singularly dull she used to shriek with rage when Dick stared at her between half-closed eyes now she's salt or watched him with disgust saying very little Torpenhau had been absent for six weeks an incoherent note heralded his return news, great news, he wrote the nil guy knows and so does the quenu we're all back on Thursday get lunch and clean your accoutrements Dick showed Bessie the letter and she abused him for that he had ever sent Torpenhau away and ruined her life well, said Dick brutally, you're better as you are instead of making love to some drunken beast in the street he felt that he had rescued Torpenhau from great temptation I don't know if that's any worse than sitting to a drunken beast in a studio you haven't been sober for three weeks you've been soaking the whole time and yet you pretend you're better than me what do you mean, said Dick mean, you'll see when Mr. Torpenhau comes back it was not long to wait Torpenhau met Bessie on the staircase without a sign of feeling he had news that was more to him than many Bessies and the quenu and the nil guy were trampling behind him calling for Dick drinking like a fish, Bessie whispered he's been at it for nearly a month she followed the men stealthily to hear judgment done they came into the studio rejoicing to be welcomed over effusively by a drawn, lined, shrunken, haggard wreck unshaven, blue-white about the nostrils, stooping in the shoulders and peering under his eyebrows nervously the drink had been at work as steadily as Dick is this you, said Torpenhau all that's left of me, sit down Binky's quite well and I've been doing some good work he reeled where he stood you've done some of the worst work you've ever done in your life man alive your Torpenhau turned to his companions appealingly and they left the room to find lunch elsewhere then he spoke, but since the reproof of a friend is much too sacred and intimate a thing to be printed and since Torpenhau used figures and metaphors which were unseemly and contempt untranslatable it will never be known what was actually said to Dick who blinked and winked and picked at his hands after a time the culprit began to feel the need of a little self-respect he was quite sure that he had not in any way departed from virtue and there were reasons too of which Torpenhau knew nothing he would explain he rose, tried to straighten his shoulders and spoke to the face he could hardly see you were right, he said but I am right too after you went away I had some trouble with my eyes so I went to an oculist and he turned a gas-o-gene I mean a gas engine into my eye that was very long ago he said, scar on the head sword cut and optic nerve make a note of that so I am going blind I have some work to do before I go blind and I suppose that I must do it I cannot see much now but I can see best when I am drunk I did not know I was drunk till I was told but I must go on with my work if you want to see it there it is he pointed to all but finished melancholia and looked for applause Torpenhau said nothing and Dick began to whimper feebly for joy it seemed Torpenhau again for grief at misdeeds if indeed they were misdeeds they made Torpenhau remote and unsympathetic and for childish vanity hurt since Torpenhau had not given a word of praise to his wonderful picture Bessie looked through the keyhole after a long pause and saw the two walking up and down as usual Torpenhau's hand on Dick's shoulder here at she said something so improper that it shocked even Binky who was dribbling patiently on the landing with the hope of seeing his master again end of section 15 Recording by Gary Coy Gary's Voiceworks.com Section 16 of The Light That Failed This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Richard Kilmer The Light That Failed by Rudyard Kipling Chapter 11 The Lark will make her hymn to God the Partridge call her brood while I forgot the Heath-I-Trod the fields wherein I stood it is dual to know not night from morn but deeper dual to know I can but hear the hunter's horn that once I used to blow the only son it was the third day after Torpenhau's return and his heart was heavy Do you mean to tell me you can't see to work without whiskey? It's generally the other way about Can a drunkard swear on his honor, said Dick? Yes, if he has been a good a man as you Then I give you my word of honor, said Dick speaking hurriedly through parched lips Old man, I can hardly see your face now You've kept me sober for two days if I ever was drunk and I've done no work Don't keep me back any more I don't know when my eyes may give out The spots and dots and the pains and the things are crowding worse than ever I swear, I can see all right when I'm, when I'm mardedly screwed as you say give me three more sittings from Bessie and all the stuff I want and the picture will be done I can't kill myself in three days It only means a touch of D.T. at the worst If I give you three days more will you promise me to stop work and the other thing, whether the picture's finished or not? I can't You don't know what that picture means to me But surely you could get the Nagali to help you and knock me down and tie me up I shouldn't fight for whiskey but I should for work Go on then, I'll give you three days but you're nearly breaking my heart Dick returned to his work toiling as one possessed and the yellow devil of whiskey stood by him and chased away the spots in his eyes The melancholia was nearly finished and was all or nearly all that he had hoped she would be Dick gested with Bessie who reminded him that he was a drunken beast but the reproof did not move him You can't understand Bess We're inside of land now and soon we shall lie back and think about what we've done I'll give you three months' pay when the picture's finished and next time I have any more work in hand but that doesn't matter Won't three months' pay make you hate me less? No, it won't. I hate you and I'll go on hating you Mr. Torpanhal won't speak to me anymore He's always looking at maps Bessie did not say that she had again laid siege to Torpanhal or that at the end of our passionate pleading he had picked her up, given her a kiss and put her outside the door with a recommendation not to be a little fool He spent most of his time in the company of the Nagali and their talk was of war in the near future the hiring of transports and secret preparations among the dockyards He did not wish to see Dick till the picture was finished He's doing first-class work, he said to the Nagali and it's quite out of his regular line but for the matter of that sews his infernal soaking Never mind, leave him alone When he has come to his senses again we'll carry him off from this place and let him breathe clean air Poor Dick, I don't envy you, Torp when his eyes fail Yes, it will be a case of God help the man who's chained to our Davy The worst is that we don't know when it will happen and I believe the uncertainty and the waiting have sent Dick to the whiskey more than anything else How the Arab who cut his head open would grin if he knew He's at perfect liberty to grin if he can He's dead, that's poor consolation now In the afternoon of the third day Torp and Howe heard Dick calling for him All finished, he shouted I've done it, come in Isn't she a beauty? Isn't she a darling? I've been down to hell to get her But isn't she worth it? Torp and Howe looked at the head of the woman who laughed A full-lipped, hallowed woman who laughed from out the canvas as Dick had intended she would Who taught you how to do that, said Torp and Howe The touch and notion have nothing to do with your regular work What a face it is What eyes and what insolence Unconsciously he threw back his head and laughed with her She's seen the game played out I don't think she's had a good time of it And now she doesn't care Isn't that the idea? Exactly Where did you get the mouth and chin from? They don't belong to best There's someone else's But isn't it good? Isn't it thundering good? Wasn't it worth the whiskey? I did it, alone, I did it And it's the best I can do He drew his breath sharply and whispered Just God, what could I not do ten years hence If I can do this now? By the way, what do you think of it best? The girl was biting her lips She loathed Torp and Howe because he had taken no notice of her I think it's just the hardest, beastliest thing I ever saw, she answered and turned away More than you will be of that way of thinking, young woman Dick, they're sort of a murderous, viperine suggestion In the poise of the head that I don't understand, said Torp and Howe That's trick work, said Dick Chuckling with delight had been completely understood I couldn't resist one little bit of sheer swagger It's a French trick And you wouldn't understand But it's got at, by slewing round the head a trifle And a tiny, tiny fore-shortening of one side of the face From the angle of the chin to the top of the left ear That and deepening the shadow under the lobe of the ear It was flagrant trick work But having the notion fixed, I felt entitled to play with it Oh, you beauty Amen, she is a beauty, I can feel it So will every man who has any sorrow of his own, said Dick, slapping his thigh He shall see his trouble there And by the Lord Harry, just when he's feeling properly sorry for himself He shall throw back his head and laugh, as she is laughing I've put the life of my heart and the light of my eyes into her And I don't care what comes I'm tired, awfully tired I think I'll get to sleep Take away the whiskey, it has served its turn And give Bessie thirty-six quid And three over, for luck Cover the picture She dropped asleep in the long chair Hid face-white and haggard Almost before he had finished the sentence Bessie tried to take Torpenhauer's hand Aren't you never going to speak to me any more, she said But Torpenhauer was looking at Dick What a stock of vanity the man has I'll take him in hand tomorrow and make much of him He deserves it, eh? What was that, Bess? I'll put things tidy here a little and then I'll go You couldn't give that three months' pay now, could you? He said you were to Torpenhauer gave her a check and went to his own rooms Bessie faithfully tidied up the studio Set the door ajar for flight Emptied a half a bottle of turpentine on a duster And began to scrub the face of the melancholia viciously The paint did not smudge quickly enough She took a palette knife and scraped following each stroke With a wet duster In five minutes the picture was a formless, scarred Model of colors She threw the paint-stained duster into the studio stove Stuck out her tongue at the sleeper and whispered Built as she turned to run down the staircase She would never see Torpenhauer anymore But she had at least done harm to the man Who had come between her and her desire And who used to make fun of her Cashing the check was the very cream of the jest to Bessie Then the little privateers sailed across the tames To be swallowed up in the gray wilderness of south the water Dick slept till late in the evening When Torpenhauer dragged him off the bed His eyes were as bright as his voice was hoarse Let's have another look at the picture he said insistently as a child You go to bed, said Torpenhauer You aren't at all well, though you may not know it You're as jumpy as a cat I'll reform tomorrow. Good night As he re-passed through the studio Torpenhauer lifted the cloth above the picture And almost betrayed himself by outcries Wiped out, scraped out, and turped out He's on the verge of jumps as it is That Bess, that little fiend Only a woman could have done that With the ink not dry on the check, too Dick will be raving mad tomorrow It was all my fault for trying to help gutter devils Oh, my poor Dick, the Lord is hitting you very hard Dick could not sleep that night Partly for pure joy And partly because the well-known Catherine wheels inside his eyes Had given place to crackling volcanoes of many-colored fire Spowed away, he said aloud I've done my work, and now you can do what you please He lay still, staring at the ceiling The long pent-up delirium of drink in his veins His brain on fire with racing thoughts That would not stay to be considered And his hands crisped and dry He had just discovered that he was painting the face Of the melancholia on a revolving dome Ribbed with millions of lights And that all his wondrous thoughts stood embodied Hundreds of feet below his tiny, swinging plank Shouting together in his honor When something cracked inside his temples Like an overstrained bowstring The glittering dome broke inward And he was alone in the thick night I'll go to sleep, the room's very dark Let's light a lamp and see how the melancholia looks There ought to have been a moon It was then that Torp and Howe heard his name called By a voice that he did not know In the rattling accents of deadly fear He looked at the picture, it was his first thought As he hurried into the bedroom And found Dick sitting up And beating the air with his hands Torp, Torp, where are you? For pity's sakes, come to me Dick clutched his shoulder Matter, I've been lying here for hours in the dark And you never heard me Torpled man, don't go away I'm all in the dark, in the dark, I tell you Torp and Howe held the candle within a foot of Dick's eyes But there was no light in those eyes He lit the gas and Dick heard the flame catch The grip of his fingers on Torp and Howe's shoulder Made Torp and Howe wince Don't leave me, you wouldn't leave me alone now would you? I can't see, do you understand? It's black, quite black And I feel as if I was falling through it all Steady does it, Torp and Howe put his arm round Dick And began to rock him gently to and fro That's good now, don't talk If I keep very quiet for a while The darkness will lift It seems just on the point of breaking Hush, Dick knit his brows And stared desperately in front of him The night air was chilling Torp and Howe's toes Can you stay like that a minute, he said? I'll get my dressing gown and some slippers Dick clutched the bed head with both hands And waited for the darkness to clear away What a time you've been, he cried When Torp and Howe returned It's as black as ever What are you banging about in the doorway? Long chair, horse blanket, pillow Going to sleep by you, lie down now You'll be better in the morning I shant the voice rose to a wail My God, I'm blind, I'm blind And the darkness will never go away He made as if to leap from the bed But Torp and Howe's arms were round him And Torp and Howe's chin was on his shoulder And his breath was squeezed out of him He could only gasp, blind, and wriggled feebly Steady, Dickie, steady, said the deep voice in his ear And the grip tightened Bite on the bullet, old man And don't let them think you're afraid The grip could draw no closer Both men were breathing heavily Dick threw his head from side to side and groaned Let me go, he panned it You're cracking my ribs We mustn't let them think we're afraid, must we? All the powers of darkness and that lot Lie down, it's all over now Yes, said Dick, obediently But would you mind letting me hold your hand? I feel as if I wanted something to hold on to One drops through the dark soul Torp and Howe thrust out a large and hairy paw From the long chair Dick clutched it tightly And in half an hour had fallen asleep Torp and Howe withdrew his hand And stooping over Dick Kissed him lightly on the forehead As men do sometimes kiss a wounded Conrad In the hour of death to ease his departure In the gray dawn, Torp and Howe heard Dick Talking to himself He was adrift on the shoreless tides Of delirium, speaking very quickly It's a pity, a great pity But it's helped and it must be eaten Master George It's efficient until the day Is the blindness thereof And further, putting aside all melancholias And false humors It is obvious notoriety Such as mine was That the queen can do no wrong Torp doesn't know that I'll tell him when we're a little farther Into the desert What a bungle those boatmen are making Of the steamer ropes They'll have that four inch hauser Chaffed through in a minute I told you so, there she goes White foam on green water And the steamer slewing round I'll sketch it, no I can't I'm afflicted with opthamia That was one of the ten plagues of Egypt And it extends up the Nile In the shape of cataract Ha, that's a joke, Torp Laugh, you graven image And stand clear of the hauser It'll knock you into the water And make your dress all dirty, Maisie dear Oh, said Torp and Howe This happened before That night on the river She'll be sure to say it's my fault And you're quite near enough to the breakwater Maisie, that's not fair Ah, I knew you'd miss Low into the left, dear But you've no conviction Don't be angry, darling I'd cut my hand off If it would give you anything more than obstinacy My right hand, if it would serve Now we mustn't listen Here's an island Shouting across seas Of misunderstanding with a vengeance But a shouting truth I fancy Said Torp and Howe The babble continued It all bore upon Maisie Sometimes Dick lectured at length On his craft Then he cursed himself for his folly In being enslaved He pleaded to Maisie for a kiss Only one kiss before she went away And called to her to come back From Vitrysumarn, if she would But through all his ravings He bade heaven and earth witness That the queen could do no wrong Torp and Howe listened attentively And learned every detail Of Dick's life that had been hidden from him For three days Dick raved through the past And then a natural sleep What a strain he has been running under Poor chaps at Torp and Howe Dick of all men Handing himself over like a dog And I was lecturing him on arrogance I ought to have known That it was no use to judge a man But I did it What a demon that girl must be Dick's given her his life Confound him And she's given him one kiss apparently Torp said Dick from the bed Go out for a walk You've been here too long I'll get up Hi, this is annoying I can't dress myself Oh, it's too absurd Torp and Howe helped him into his clothes And led him to the big chair in the studio He sat quietly waiting Under strained nerves for the darkness to lift It did not lift that day Nor the next Dick adventured on a voyage round the walls He hid his shins against the stove And this suggested to him That it would be better to crawl on all fours One hand in front of him Torp and Howe found him on the floor I'm trying to get to the geography Of my new possessions, said he Do you remember that nigger you gouged in the square? Pity you didn't keep the odd eye It would have been useful Any letters for me? Give me all the ones in fat gray envelopes With sort of a crown thing Outside There of no importance Torp and Howe gave him a letter with a black M On the envelope flap Dick put it into his pocket There was nothing in it that Torp and Howe Might not have read But it belonged to himself and to Maisie Who would never belong to him When she finds that I don't write She'll stop writing It's better so Dick argued And the tempter suggested That he should make known his condition Every nerve in him revolted I have fallen low enough already I'm not going to beg for pity Besides it would be cruel to her He strove to put Maisie out of his thoughts But the blind have many opportunities For thinking And as the tides of his strength came Back to him in the long Employless days of dead darkness Dick's soul was troubled to the core Another letter and another came from Maisie Then there was silence And Dick sat by the window With the pulse of summer in the air And pictured her being one by another man Stronger than himself His imagination The keener for the dark background It worked against Spared him no single detail That might send him raging up and down the studio To stumble over the stove That seemed to be in four places at once Worst of all Tobacco would not taste in the darkness The arrogance of the man had disappeared And in its place Were settled despair That Torpenhau knew And the blind passion that Dick confided To his pillow at night The intervals between the paroxysms Were filled with intolerable waiting And the weight of intolerable darkness Come out into the parks at Torpenhau You haven't stirred out Since the beginning of things What's the use? There's no movement in the dark And besides, he paused Irresolutely at the head of the stairs Something will run over me Not if I'm with you Proceed gingerly The roar of the street filled Dick with nervous terror And he clung to Torpenhau's arms Fancy having the feel For a gutter with your foot He said petulantly As he turned into the park Let's curse God and die Centuries are forbidden to pay Authorized compliments By Jove There are the guards Dick's figure straightened Let's get near them Let's go in and look Let's get on the grass and run I can smell the trees Mind the low railing That's all right Torpenhau kicked out a tough of grass With his heel Smell that, he said Isn't it good? They approached as near to the regiment As was possible The clank of bayonets being unfixed Made Dick's nostrils quiver Let's get nearer They're in column, aren't they? Yes, how did you know? Felt it Oh my men, my beautiful men He edged forward as though he could see I could draw those chaps once We'll draw them now They'll move off in a minute Don't jump when the band begins Huh? I'm not a new charger It's the silences that hurt Nearer, Torp, nearer Oh my god What wouldn't I give to see him for a minute One half minute He could hear the armed life almost within reach of him Could hear the slings Tighten across the bands in his chest As he heaved the big drum from the ground Sticks crossed above his head Whispered Torpenhau I know, I know Who should know if I don't The drumsticks fell with a boom And the men swung forward to the crash of the band Dick felt the wind of the mass movement in his face Heard the manning tramp of feet And the friction of pouches on the belts The big drum pounded out the tune It was a musical refrain That made a perfect quick step He must be a man of decent height He must be a man of weight He must come home on a Saturday night In a thoroughly sober state He must know how to love me And he must know how to kiss And if he's enough to keep us both I can't refuse him bliss What's the matter, said Torpenhau As he saw Dick's head fall When the last of the regiment had departed Nothing I feel a little bit out of the running That's all Torp, take me back Why did you bring me out? End of section 16 Recording by Richard Kilmer Real Medina, Texas Section 17 Of The Light That Failed This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings Are in the public domain For more information Or to volunteer Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Richard Kilmer The Light That Failed By Rudyard Kipling Chapter 12 There were three friends that buried the fourth The mold in his mouth And the dust in his eyes And they went south And east and north The strong man fights But the sick man dies There were three friends that spoke of the dead The strong man fights But the sick man dies And would he were with us now, they said The sun in our face And the wind in our eyes Ballad The Nagali was angry with Torpanhal Dick had been sent to bed Blind men are ever under the orders of those who can see And since he had returned from the park Had fluently sworn at Torpanhal Because he was alive And all the world because it was alive And could see While he, Dick, was dead In the death of the blind Who at best are only burdens Upon their associates Torpanhal had said something about a misgummage And Dick had retired in a black fury To handle and re-handle Three unopened letters from Maisie The Nagali, fat, burly and aggressive Was in Torpanhal's rooms Behind him sat the canoe The Great War Eagle And between them lay a large map Embellished with black and white-headed pins I was wrong about the Balkans, said the Nagali But I'm not wrong about this business The whole of our work in the Southern Sudan Must be done over again The public doesn't care, of course But the government does And they are making their arrangements quietly You know that as well as I do I remember how the people cursed us When our troops withdrew from Amdurman It was bound to crop up sooner or later But I can't go, said Torpanhal He pointed through the open door It was a hot night Can you blame me? The canoe purred above his pipe Like a large and very happy cat Don't blame you in the least It's uncommonly good of you And all the rest of it But every man, even you, Torp Must consider his work I know it sounds brutal But Dick's out of the race Down He follows expended, finished, done for He has a little money of his own He won't starve And you can't pull out of your slide For his sake Think of your own reputation Dick's was five times bigger Than mine and yours put together That was because he signed his name To everything he did It's all ended now You must hold yourself in readiness To move out You can command your own prices For more work than any three of us Don't tell me how tempting it is I'll stay here to look after Dick for a while He's as cheerful as a bear with a sore head But I think he likes to have me near him The Nagali said something uncomplementary About soft-headed fools Who throw away their career for other fools Torpanhal flushed angrily The constant strain of attendance on Dick And warned his nerves thin There remains a third fate Said the canoe thoughtfully Consider this And be not larger fools than necessary Dick is, or rather was An able-bodied man Of moderate attractions And a certain amount of audacity Oh, said the Nagali Who remembered an affair at Cairo I begin to see Torp, I'm sorry Torpanhal nodded forgiveness You are more sorry when he cut you out, though Go on, canoe I've often thought when I see men die out in the desert That if the news could be sent through the world And the means of transport were quick enough There would be one woman at least At each man's bedside There would be some mighty quaint revelations Let us be grateful things are as they are Said the Nagali Let us rather revently consider Whether Torp's three-quartered administrations Are exactly what Dick needs just now What do you think yourself, Torp? I know they aren't, but what can I do? Lay the matter before the board We're all Dick's friends here You've been most in his life But I picked it up when he was off his head The greater chance of it being true I thought we should arrive Who's she? Then Torpanhal told a tale in plain words As a special correspondent Who knows how to make a verbal precise should tell it The men listened without interruption Is it possible that a man can come back Across the years to his calf love, said the canoe? Is it possible? I give the facts He says nothing about it now But he sits fumbling three letters from her When he thinks I'm not looking What am I to do? Speak to him, said the Nagali Oh yes, write to her I know her full name, remember And ask her to accept him out of pity I believe you once told Dick You were sorry for him, Nagali You remember what happened, eh? Go into the bedroom and suggest full confession And an appeal to this mazy girl Whoever she is I honestly believe he'd try to kill you And the blindness has made him rather muscular Torpanhal's course is perfectly clear, said the canoe He will go to Vitri Sumarn Which is on the Biseris Landis Railway Single track from Torgus The Prussians shelled it out in 70 Because there was a poplar on top of a hill 1,800 yards from the church spire There's a squadron of cavalry quartered there Or ought to be Where's the studio Torp spoke about? Maybe I cannot tell That is Torp's business I have given him his route He will dispassionately explain the situation to the girl And she will come back to Dick The more especially because, to use Dick's words There's nothing but her damn obstinacy to keep them apart And they have 420 pounds a year between them Dick never lost his head for figures Even in his delirium You haven't the shadow of an excuse For not going, said the Nagali Torpanhal looked very uncomfortable Absurd and impossible I can't drag her back by the hair Our business, the business for which we draw our money Is to do absurd and impossible things Generally with no reason whatever Except to amuse the public Here we have a reason The rest doesn't matter I shall share these rooms with the Nagali To Torpanhal returns There will be a batch of unbridled specials Coming to town in a little while And these will serve as their headquarters Another reason for sending Torpanhal away Thus Providence helped those who help others And here, the canoe dropped his measured speech We can't have you tied by the leg to Dick When the trouble begins It's your only chance of getting away And Dick will be grateful He will, worse luck I can go and try I can't conceive a woman in her senses Refusing Dick Talk that out with the girl I've seen you weedle an angry Madi woman Into giving you dates This won't be a tie this difficult You had better not be here tomorrow afternoon Because the Nagali and I will be in possession It's an order, obey Dick said Torpanhal next morning Can I do anything for you? No, leave me alone How often must I remind you that I'm blind? Nothing I could go for to fetch Or to carry, for to bring No, take those infernal creaking boots of yours away Poor chap, said Torpanhal to himself I must have been sitting on his nerves lately He wants a lighter step Then allowed Very well, since you're so independent I'm willing off for four or five days Say goodbye at least The housekeeper will look after you And canoe has my rooms Dick's face fell Don't be longer than a week at the outside I know I'm touched in the temper But I can't get on without you Can't you? You'll have to do without me in a little time And you'll be glad I'm gone Dick felt his way back to the big chair And wondered what these things might mean He did not wish to be tended by the housekeeper And yet Torpanhal's constant tenderness Jarred on him He did not exactly know what he wanted His tenderness would not lift And Maisie's unopened letters Felt worn and old from much handling He could never read them for himself As long as life endured But Maisie might have sent him Some fresh ones to play with The Nagali entered with a gift A piece of red modeling wax He fancied that Dick might find interest In using his hands Dick poked and patted the stuff For a few minutes Anything in the world he said very early Take it away I may get the touch of the blind in fifty years Do you know where Torpanhal is gone? The Nagali knew nothing We're staying in his rooms till he comes back Can we do anything for you? I'd like to be left alone, please Don't think I'm ungrateful But I'm best alone The Nagali chuckled And Dick resumed his drowsy brooding And sullen rebellion against fate He had long since ceased to think about the work He had done in the old days And the desire to do more work Had departed from him He was exceedingly sorry for himself And the completeness of his tender grief Soothed him But his sullen body cried out for Maisie Maisie who would understand His mind pointed out that Maisie Having her own work to do Would not care His experience had taught him That when money was exhausted Women went away And that when a man was knocked out of the race The others trampled on him Then at least said Dick and reply She could use me as I used Benet For some sort of study I wouldn't ask more Than to be near her again Even though I knew that another man Was making love to her Ugg, what a dog I am A voice on the staircase To sing joyfully When we go go away from here Our creditors will weep and they will wail Our absence much regretting When they find they've been getting out of England By the next Tuesday's Indian mail Following the trampling of feet Slamming of Torpenhouse door And the sound of voices in strenuous debate Someone squeaked And see you good fellows I have found a new water bottle How you say? Open himself inside out Dick sprang to his feet He knew the voice well That's Cassavetti Come back from the continent Now I know why Torp went away There's a row somewhere And I'm out of it The Nogali commanded silence in vain That's for my sake, Dick said bitterly The birds are getting ready to fly And they wouldn't tell me I can hear Morton Sutherland and McKay Half the war correspondents in London are there And I'm out of it He stumbled across the landing And plunged into Torpenhouse room He could feel that it was full of men Where's the trouble, said he In the Balkans at last Why didn't someone tell me We thought you wouldn't be interested Said the Nogali, shame-facedly It's in the Sudan as usual You lucky dogs Let me sit here while you talk I shan't be a skeleton at the feast Cassavetti, where are you? Your English is as bad as ever Dick was led into a chair He heard the rustle of the maps And the talk swept forward Carrying him with it Everybody spoke at once Discussing press censorships Railway routes Transport Water supply The capacities of generals These in language that would have horrified A trusting public Raging, asserting, denouncing And laughing at the top of their voices There was the glorious certainty of war In the Sudan at any moment The Nogali said so And it was well to be in readiness The canoe had telegraphed the Cairo for horses Cassavetti had stolen the perfectly inaccurate List of troops that would be ordered forward And was reading it out Admit profane interruptions And the canoe introduced to Dick Some man unknown Who would be employed as a war artist By the central southern syndicate It's his first outing, said the canoe Give him some tips about riding camels Oh, those camels, groaned Cassavetti I shall learn to ride him again And now I am so much all soft Listen, you good fellows I know your military arrangement very well There will go the royal Argashire southern lenders So it was read to me upon best authority A roar of laughter interrupted him Sit down, said the Nogali The lists aren't even made out in the war office Will there be any force at Suikin, said a voice Then the outcries redoubled and grew mixed Thus how many Egyptian troops will they use God help the fellowheen There's a railway in Plubstead Marshes Doing duty as a five-court We shall have the Suikin-Berber line built at last Canadian voyagers are too careful Give me a half-drunk corpsman in a whale boat Who commands the desert column? No, they never blew up the big rock in the Gia Bend We shall have to be hauled up as usual Somebody tell me, is there an Indian contingent? Or I'll break everybody's head Don't tear the map in two It's a war of occupation, I tell you To connect with the African companies in the south There's guinea-worm in most of the wells on that route Then the Nogali, despairing of peace Bellowed like a foghorn and beat upon the table With both hands But what becomes of Torpenhau, said Dick In the silence that followed Torps in advance just now He's off love-making somewhere, I suppose, said the Nogali He said he was going to stay at home, said the canoe Is he, said Dick, with an oath? He won't I'm not much good now But if you and the Nogali hold him down I'll engage the trample on him till he sees reason He'll stay behind indeed He's the best of you all There'll be some tough work by Om Durman We shall come there to stay this time But I forgot I wish I were going with you So do we all, Dickie, said the canoe And I, most of all, said the new artist of the Central Southern Syndicate Could you tell me? I'll give you one piece of advice, Dick answered, moving toward the door If you happen to be cut over the head in a scrimmage, don't guard Tell the man to go on cutting You'll find the cheapest in the end Thanks for letting me look in There's grit in Dick, said the Nogali an hour later When the room was empty, of all saved the canoe It was the sacred call of the war trumpet Did you notice how he answered to it? Poor fellow, let's look at him, said the canoe The excitement of the talk had died away Dick was sitting by the studio table with his head on his arms When the men came in He did not change the position It hurts, Simone God forgive me, but it hurts cruelly And yet, you know The world has a knack of spinning round all by itself Shall I seat Torp before he goes? Oh yes, you'll see him, said the Nogali End of section 17 Recording by Richard Kilmer, Rio Medina, Texas