en
that is laid not on others--all space is open to him, and his choice is
infinite--and if he falls beneath it, let men weep rather than curse,
for he was born a Son of God."

There was silence again. Then Peter Halket clasped his arms about the
stranger's feet. "My master," he cried, "I dare not take that message.
It is not that men may say, 'Here is Trooper Peter Halket, whom we all
know, a man who kept women and shot niggers, turned prophet.' But it is,
that it is true. Have I not wished--" and Peter Halket would have poured
out all his soul; but the stranger prevented him.

"Peter Simon Halket," he said, "is it the trumpet which gives forth
the call to battle, whether it be battered tin or gilded silver, which
boots? Is it not the call? What and if I should send my message by
a woman or a child: shall truth be less truth because the bearer is
despised? Is it the mouth that speaks or the word that is spoken which
is eternal? Nevertheless, if you will have it so, go, and say, 'I, Peter
Halket, sinner among you all, who have desired women and gold, who have
loved myself and hated my fellow, I--'" The stranger looked down at him,
and placed his hand gently on his head. "Peter Simon Halket," he said,
"a harder task I give you than any which has been laid upon you. In that
small spot where alone on earth your will rules, bring there into being
the kingdom today. Love your enemies; do good to them that hate you.
Walk ever forward, looking not to the right hand or the left. Heed not
what men shall say of you. Succour the oppressed; deliver the captive.
If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he is athirst give him drink."

A curious warmth and gladness stole over Peter Halket as he knelt;
it was as, when a little child, his mother folded him to her: he saw
nothing more about him but a soft bright light. Yet in it he heard a
voice cry, "Because thou hast loved mercy--and hated oppression--"

When Trooper Peter Halket raised himself, he saw the figure of the
stranger passing from him. He cried, "My Master, let me go with you."
But the figure did not turn. And, as it passed into the darkness, it
seemed to Peter Halket that the form grew larger and larger: and as it
descended the further side of the kopje it seemed that for one instant
he still saw the head with a pale, white light upon it: then it
vanished.

And Trooper Peter Halket sat alone upon the kopje.

Chapter II.

It was a hot day. The sun poured down its rays