Studies and Essays: Concerning Letters. Galsworthy John

this old man!"

      Cethru was brought before them trembling.

      "What is this we hear, old man, about your lanthorn and the rat? And in the first place, what were you doing in the Vita Publica at that time of night?"

      Cethru answered: "I were just passin' with my lanthorn!"

      "Tell us – did you see the rat?"

      Cethru shook his head: "My lanthorn seed the rat, maybe!" he muttered.

      "Old owl!" said the Captain of the Watch: "Be careful what you say! If you saw the rat, why did you then not aid this unhappy citizen who was bitten by it – first, to avoid that rodent, and subsequently to slay it, thereby relieving the public of a pestilential danger?"

      Cethru looked at him, and for some seconds did not reply; then he said slowly: "I were just passin' with my lanthorn."

      "That you have already told us," said the Captain of the Watch; "it is no answer."

      Cethru's leathern cheeks became wine-coloured, so desirous was he to speak, and so unable. And the Watch sneered and laughed, saying:

      "This is a fine witness."

      But of a sudden Cethru spoke:

      "What would I be duin' – killin' rats; tidden my business to kill rats."

      The Captain of the Watch caressed his beard, and looking at the old man with contempt, said:

      "It seems to me, brothers, that this is an idle old vagabond, who does no good to any one. We should be well advised, I think, to prosecute him for vagrancy. But that is not at this moment the matter in hand. Owing to the accident – scarcely fortunate – of this old man's passing with his lanthorn, it would certainly appear that citizens have been bitten by rodents. It is then, I fear, our duty to institute proceedings against those poisonous and violent animals."

      And amidst the sighing of the Watch, it was so resolved.

      Cethru was glad to shuffle away, unnoticed, from the Court, and sitting down under a camel-date tree outside the City Wall, he thus reflected:

      "They were rough with me! I done nothin', so far's I can see!"

      And a long time he sat there with the bunches of the camel-dates above him, golden as the sunlight. Then, as the scent of the lyric-flowers, released by evening, warned him of the night dropping like a flight of dark birds on the plain, he rose stiffly, and made his way as usual toward the Vita Publica.

      He had traversed but little of that black thoroughfare, holding his lanthorn at the level of his breast, when the sound of a splash and cries for help smote his long, thin ears. Remembering how the Captain of the Watch had admonished him, he stopped and peered about, but owing to his proximity to the light of his own lanthorn he saw nothing. Presently he heard another splash and the sound of blowings and of puffings, but still unable to see clearly whence they came, he was forced in bewilderment to resume his march. But he had no sooner entered the next bend of that obscure and winding avenue than the most lamentable, lusty cries assailed him. Again he stood still, blinded by his own light. Somewhere at hand a citizen was being beaten, for vague, quick-moving forms emerged into the radiance of his lanthorn out of the deep violet of the night air. The cries swelled, and died away, and swelled; and the mazed Cethru moved forward on his way. But very near the end of his first traversage, the sound of a long, deep sighing, as of a fat man in spiritual pain, once more arrested him.

      "Drat me!" he thought, "this time I will see what 'tis," and he spun round and round, holding his lanthorn now high, now low, and to both sides. "The devil an' all's in it to-night," he murmured to himself; "there's some'at here fetchin' of its breath awful loud." But for his life he could see nothing, only that the higher he held his lanthorn the more painful grew the sound of the fat but spiritual sighing. And desperately, he at last resumed his progress.

      On the morrow, while he still slept stretched on his straw pallet, there came to him a member of the Watch.

      "Old man, you are wanted at the Court House; rouse up, and bring your lanthorn."

      Stiffly Cethru rose.

      "What be they wantin' me fur now, mester?"

      "Ah!" replied the Watchman, "they are about to see if they can't put an end to your goings-on."

      Cethru shivered, and was silent.

      Now when they reached the Court House it was patent that a great affair was forward; for the Judges were in their robes, and a crowd of advocates, burgesses, and common folk thronged the careen, lofty hall of justice.

      When Cethru saw that all eyes were turned on him, he shivered still more violently, fixing his fascinated gaze on the three Judges in their emerald robes.

      "This then is the prisoner," said the oldest of the Judges; "proceed with the indictment!"

      A little advocate in snuff-coloured clothes rose on little legs, and commenced to read:

      "Forasmuch as on the seventeenth night of August fifteen hundred years since the Messiah's death, one Celestine, a maiden of this city, fell into a cesspool in the Vita Publica, and while being quietly drowned, was espied of the burgess Pardonix by the light of a lanthorn held by the old man Cethru; and, forasmuch as, plunging in, the said Pardonix rescued her, not without grave risk of life and the ruin, of his clothes, and to-day lies ill of fever; and forasmuch as the old man Cethru was the cause of these misfortunes to the burgess Pardonix, by reason of his wandering lanthorn's showing the drowning maiden, the Watch do hereby indict, accuse, and otherwise place charge upon this Cethru of 'Vagabondage without serious occupation.'

      "And, forasmuch as on this same night the Watchman Filepo, made aware, by the light of this said Cethru's lanthorn, of three sturdy footpads, went to arrest them, and was set on by the rogues and well-nigh slain, the Watch do hereby indict, accuse, and otherwise charge upon Cethru complicity in this assault, by reasons, namely, first, that he discovered the footpads to the Watchman and the Watchman to the footpads by the light of his lanthorn; and, second, that, having thus discovered them, he stood idly by and gave no assistance to the law.

      "And, forasmuch as on this same night the wealthy burgess Pranzo, who, having prepared a banquet, was standing in his doorway awaiting the arrival of his guests, did see, by the light of the said Cethru's lanthorn, a beggar woman and her children grovelling in the gutter for garbage, whereby his appetite was lost completely; and, forasmuch as he, Pranzo, has lodged a complaint against the Constitution for permitting women and children to go starved, the Watch do hereby indict, accuse, and otherwise make charge on Cethru of rebellion and of anarchy, in that wilfully he doth disturb good citizens by showing to them without provocation disagreeable sights, and doth moreover endanger the laws by causing persons to desire to change them.

      "These be the charges, reverend Judges, so please you!"

      And having thus spoken, the little advocate resumed his seat.

      Then said the oldest of the Judges:

      "Cethru, you have heard; what answer do you make?"

      But no word, only the chattering of teeth, came from Cethru.

      "Have you no defence?" said the Judge: "these are grave accusations!"

      Then Cethru spoke:

      "So please your Highnesses," he said, "can I help what my lanthorn sees?"

      And having spoken these words, to all further questions he remained more silent than a headless man.

      The Judges took counsel of each other, and the oldest of them thus addressed himself to Cethru:

      "If you have no defence, old man, and there is no one will say a word for you, we can but proceed to judgment."

      Then in the main aisle of the Court there rose a youthful advocate.

      "Most reverend Judges," he said in a mellifluous voice, clearer than the fluting of a bell-bird, "it is useless to look for words from this old man, for it is manifest that he himself is nothing, and that his lanthorn is alone concerned in this affair. But, reverend Judges, bethink you well: Would you have a lanthorn ply a trade or be concerned with a profession, or do aught indeed but pervade the streets at night, shedding its light,