"The young lion roars in his triumph, and the old toothless lion has missed his kill. The nightingale sings from the cypress; and the mouse is squeaking where the owl swooped down. In a hundred jungles the beast of prey fills himself; and in haunts of men the ravenous are abroad also. The lover cries that the couch is waiting, and in the shadow lurks the assassin. Where men are dying, mothers stand weeping; and mothers are writhing where men are being born. The student, pale with learning, trims his lamp and asks for the night to continue; and the tempest-torn mariner is praying for the dawn. The youngster smiles at his rosy dreams; and round his father breaks the shock of battle. The rich man toys with his heaped meats: and to a fireless garret has crept the pauper. The statesman toils in his chamber; and the well-dined burgher turns in his sleep. Age pulls the coverlet over a bony breast; and in the halls of vice youth spends its strength. In solitude the shepherd guards his flock; and in retreat no less lonely the miser counts his gold. And hairs are greying, and eyes are dimming, and babes are crowing. And voices are laughing, and voices are scolding, and voices are sobbing. How empty the night is? How still the night is? No! How crowded! How deafening!"
King came to a full stop. His hand fell to his side. He did not turn round, and presently he lit another cigar with irritating calm. All the while, the girl had not stirred in her chair. At last King moved from the doorway, and at the same time Neville sounded his stick in the house. He appeared on the verandah with Power behind. The old man was chuckling to himself and holding out some keys.
"Huh, huh! I may be wrong; but I think I'll settle that little crowd. See these? For the tanks. See 'em? I'll be along and fix them up right away. To-morrow you can watch them line up with their tongues out. Old Horrington can live on whisky for a while. It's done him before to-day. Mrs. Johnson can wash in last week's water. It'll make good soup for the baby. He, he! Huh, huh, huh!"
"What are you going to do, Father?"
"Lock the tanks, of course. What d'ye think I mean to do? Drink 'em dry?"
"You can't do that."
"Can't? I may be wrong, but I reckon I can." He wagged his head; and next gripped his stick and began to stamp down the verandah, but half way brought up short with a second nod. "Moon or no moon," he said, "I shall do better with a lantern where I'm going." He went indoors again.
At the same time King pulled out a watch. "I'll get back."
Maud from her chair called out to him. "Already, Mr. King? It's not late. Are you tired of us?"
"The night is getting cool, and I haven't slept for a week."