Her little brother was learning these things, too, in the Corps of

Officers. Also he was already proficient on the balalaika.

* * * * *

And again, in the mountains of a conquered province, the little

daughter of a gamekeeper to nobility was preparing to emigrate with

her father to a new home in the Western world, where she would learn

to perform miracles with rifle and revolver, and where the beauty of

the hermit thrush's song would startle her into comparing it to the

beauty of her own untried voice. But to her father, and to her, the

most beautiful thing in all the world was love of Fatherland.

* * * * *

Over these, and millions of others, brooded the spell of the Dark

Star. Even the world itself lay under it, vaguely uneasy, sometimes

startled to momentary seismic panic. Then, ere mundane self-control

restored terrestrial equilibrium, a few mountains exploded, an island

or two lay shattered by earthquake, boiling mud and pumice blotted out

one city; earth-shock and fire another; a tidal wave a third.

But the world settled down and balanced itself once more on the edge

of the perpetual abyss into which it must fall some day; the invisible

shadow of the Dark Star swept it at intervals when some far and

nameless sun blazed out unseen; days dawned; the sun of the solar

system rose furtively each day and hung around the heavens until that

dusky huntress, Night, chased him once more beyond the earth's

horizon.

The shadow of the Dark Star was always there, though none saw it in

sunshine or in moonlight, or in the silvery lustre of the planets.

A boy, born under it, stood outside the fringe of willow and alder,

through which moved two English setters followed and controlled by the

boy's father.

"Mark!" called the father.

Out of the willows like a feathered bomb burst a big grouse, and the

green foliage that barred its flight seemed to explode as the strong

bird sheered out into the sunshine.

The boy's gun, slanting upward at thirty degrees, glittered in the sun

an instant, then the left barrel spoke; and the grouse, as though

struck by lightning in mid-air, stopped with a jerk, then slanted

swiftly and struck the ground.

"Dead!" cried the boy, as a setter appeared, leading on straight to

the heavy mass of feathers lying on the pasture grass.

"Clean work, Jim," said his father, strolling out of the willows. "But

wasn't it a bit risky, considering the little girl yonder?"

"Father!" exclaimed the boy, very red. "I never even saw her. I'm

ashamed."




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