May 20, 2023 • 26 mins
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Naguib Mahfouz, Egyptian literature, existentialism, identity, love, relationships, social commentary, cultural norms, social class, personal growth, literary style, literary legacy, literary analysis, literary adaptation, literary criticism, Cairo, modernity, cultural influence, societal expectations, individualism, human nature, psychological analysis, Arab culture, family, urbanization
Naguib Mahfouz, Egyptian literature, existentialism, identity, love, relationships, social commentary, cultural norms, social class, personal growth, literary style, literary legacy, literary analysis, literary adaptation, literary criticism, Cairo, modernity, cultural influence, societal expectations, individualism, human nature, psychological analysis, Arab culture, family, urbanization
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(00:00):
Chapter eight. Ruth sat looking intospace with starry eyes and glowing cheeks.
After she had read the letter.It seemed to her a wonderful letter,
quite the most wonderful she had everreceived. Perhaps it was because it fitted
so perfectly with her ideal of thewriter, who, from her little girlhood
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had always been a picture of whata hero must be. She used to
dream big things about him when shewas a child. He had been the
best baseball player in school when hewas ten, and the handsomest little rowdy
in town, as well as theboldest, bravest champion of the little girls.
As she grew older and met himoccasionally, she had always been glad
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that he kept his old hero look, though often appearing in rough garb.
She had known they were poor.There had been some story about a loss
of money and a long, expensivesickness of the fathers following an accident,
which made all the circumstances most trying, but she had never heard the details.
She only knew that most of thegirls in her set looked on him
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as a nobody and would no morehave companied with him than with their father's
chauffeur. After he grew older andbegan to go to college. Some of
the girls began to think he wasgood looking, and to say it was
quite commendable in him to try toget an education. Some had even unearthed
the fact that his had been afine old family in former days, and
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that there had been wealth and servantsonce. But the story died down as
John Cameron walked his quiet way apart, keeping to his old friends and not
responding to the feeble advances of thegirls. Ruth had been away at school
in these days and had seldom seenhim. When she had there had always
been that lingering admiration for him fromthe old days. She had told herself
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that, of course he could notbe worth much or people would know him.
He was probably ignorant and uncultured,and a closer acquaintance would show him
far from what her young ideas hadpictured her hero. But somehow that day
at the station, the look inhis face had revealed fine feeling, and
she was glad now to have herintuition concerning him verified by his letter.
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And what a letter it was.Why no young man of her acquaintance could
have written with such poetic delicacy thatparagraph about the rose was beautiful and not
a bit to presuming either, inone who had been a perfect stranger all
these years. She liked his simplefrankness and the easy way He went back
twelve years and began just where theyleft off. There was none of the
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bold forwardness that might have been expectedin one who had not moved in cultured
society. There was no unpleasant assumptionof familiarity, which might have emphasized her
fear that she had overstepped the boundsof convention in writing to him in the
first place. On the contrary,her humiliation at his long delayed answer was
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all forgotten. Now he had understoodher perfectly and accepted her letter in exactly
the way she had meant it,without the least bit of foolishness or unpleasantness.
In short, he had written thesort of a letter that the kind
of man she had always thought hopedhe was would be likely to write,
and it gave her a surprisingly pleasantfeeling of satisfaction. It was as if
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she had discovered a friend all ofher own, not made for her by
her family, nor one to whomshe fell heir because of her wealth and
position, but just one she hadfound out in the great world of souls.
If he had been going to remainat home, there might have been
a number of questions, social andconventional, which would have arisen to bar
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the way to this free feeling ofa friendship, and which she would have
had to meet and reason with beforeher mind would have shaken itself unhampered.
But because he was going away andon such an errand perhaps never to return,
the matter of what her friends mightthink or what the world would say,
simply did not enter into the questionat all. The war had lifted
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them both above such ephemeral barriers intothe place of vision, where a soul
was a soul, no matter whathe possessed or who he was. So,
as she sat in her big whiteroom with all its dainty accessories to
a luxurious life, fit setting fora girl so lovely, she smiled unhindered
at this bit of beautiful friendship thathad suddenly drifted down at her feet out
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of a great, outside unknown world. She touched the letter thoughtfully, with
caressing fingers and the kind of ahigh look in her eyes that a lady
of old must have worn. Whenshe thought of her night, it came
to her to wonder that she hadnot felt so about any other of her
men friends who had gone into theservice. Why should this special one soldier
boy represent the whole war as itwere in this way? To her,
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however, it was but a passingthought, and with a smile upon her
lips, she went to the drawerand brought out the finely knitted garments she
had made, wrapping them up withcare and sending them at once upon their
way. It somehow gave her pleasureto set aside a small engagement she had
for that afternoon until she had postedthe package herself. Even then, when
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she took her belated way to alittle gathering in honor of one of her
girlfriends, who was going to bemarried the next week to a young aviator,
she kept the smile on her lipsand the dreamy look in her eyes,
and now and then brought herself backfrom the chatter around her to remember
that something pleasant had happened, notthat there was any foolishness in her thoughts.
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There was too much dignity and simplicityabout the girl, young as she
was, to allow her to dealeven with her own thoughts in any but
a maidenly way. And it wasnot in the ordinary way of a maid
with a man. That she thoughtof this young soldier. He was so
far removed from her life in everyway and all the well drilled formalities,
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that it never occurred to her tothink of him in the same way she
thought of her other men friends.A friend who understood her and whom she
could understand. That was what shehad always wanted, and what she had
never quite had. With any ofher young associates. One or two had
approached to that, but always therehad been a point at which they had
fallen short. That she should makethis man her friend, whose letter crackled
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in her pocket in that intimate senseof the word did not occur to her
even now. He was somehow setapart for service in her mind, and
as such she had chosen him tobe her special knight. She to be
the lady to whom he might lookfor encouragement, whose honor he was going
forth to defend. It was amisty, dreamy ideal of a thought.
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Somehow, she would not have pickedout any other of her boyfriends to be
a knight for her. They weretoo flippant, too careless, and light
hearted. The very way in whichthey lighted their multitudinous cigarettes and flipped the
match away. Gave the impression thatthey were going to have the time of
their lives in this war. Theymight have patriotism down at the bottom of
all this froth and boasting. Doubtlessthey had, but there was so little
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seriousness about them that one would neverthink of them as knights, defenders of
some great cause of righteousness. Perhapsit was only her old baby fancy for
the little boys who could always lickthe other boys and save the girls from
trouble that prejudiced her in his favor. But at least it was pleasant and
a great relief to know that herimpulsive letter had not been misunderstood. The
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girls prattled of this one and thatone, who were going over soon,
told of engagements and marriages soon tooccur. Criticized the brides and grooms to
be declaring their undying opinions about whatwas fitting for a war bride to wear,
and whether they would like to marrya man who had to go right
into war and might return minus anarm or an eye. They discoursed about
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the U boats with a frothy cheerfulnessthat made Ruth shudder, and in the
same breath told what nice eyes ayoung captain had who had recently visited the
town, and what perfectly lovely uniformshe wore. They argued with serious zeal
whether a girl should wear an olivedrab suit this year, if she wanted
to look really smart. They werethe girls among whom she had been brought
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up, and Ruth was used totheir froth, but somehow to day it
bored her beyond expression. She wasglad to make an excuse to get away,
and she drove her little car aroundby the way of John Cameron's home,
hoping perhaps to get a glimpse ofhis mother again. But the house
had a shut up look. Behindthe vine that he had trained as if
it were lonely, and lying backin a long wait till he should come
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or not come. A pang wentthrough her heart for the first time.
She thought what it meant for ayoung life like that to be silenced by
cold steel, the home empty,the mother alone, his ambitions and hopes
unfulfilled. It came to her toothat if he were her night, he
might have to die for her forhis cause. She shuddered and swept the
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unpleasant thought away, But it hadleft its mark and would return again.
On the way back, she passeda number of young soldiers home on twenty
four hour leave from the near bycamps. They saluted her most eagerly,
and she knew that any one ofthem would have gladly occupied the vacant seat
in her car, But she wasnot in the mood to talk with them.
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She felt that there was something tobe thought out and fixed in her
mind, some impression that life hadfor her that afternoon that she did not
want to lose in the mild fritterof gay banter that would be sure to
follow if she stopped and took homesome of the boys. So she bowed
graciously and swept by at a highspeed, as if in a great hurry.
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The war, the war, itwas beating itself into her brain again
in much the same way it haddone on that morning when the draftmen went
away, Only now it had takenon a or personal touch. She kept
seeing the lonely vine clad house wherethat one soldier had lived, and which
he had left so desolate. Shekept thinking how many such homes and mothers
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there must be in the land.That evening, when she was free to
go to her room, she readJohn Cameron's letter again, and then,
feeling almost as if she were childishin her haste, she sat down and
wrote an answer. Somehow that secondreading made her feel his wish for an
answer. It seemed a mute appealthat she could not resist. When John
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Cameron received that letter and the accompanyingpackage, he was lifted into the Seventh
Heaven for a little while. Heforgot all his misgivings. He even forgot
Lieutenant Wainwright, who had but thatday become a most formidable foe, having
been transferred to Cameron's company, wherehe was liable to be commanding officer in
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absence of the captain, and wherefrequent salutes would be inevitable. It had
been a terrible blow to Cameron,but now it suddenly seemed a small matter.
He put on his new sweater andswelled around the way the other boys
did, letting them all admire him. He examined the wonderful socks almost reverently,
putting a large, curious finger gentlyon the red and blue stripes,
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and thrilling with the thought that herfingers had plied the needles in those many,
many stitches to make them he almostfelt it would be sacrilege to wear
them, and he laid them awaymost carefully and locked them in the box
under his bed, lest some otherfellow should admire and desire them to his
loss. But with a letter,he walked away into the woods as far
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as the bounds of the camp wouldallow, and read and re read it,
rising at last from it as onerefreshed from a comforting meal after long
fasting. It was on the wayback to his barracks that night, walking
slowly under the starlight, not desiringto be back until the last minute before
night taps. Because he did notwish to break the wonderful evening he had
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spent with her. That he resolvedto try to leave the next Saturday and
go home to thank her. Backin the barracks with the others, he
fairly scintillated with wit and kept hiscomrades in roars of laughter until the officer
of the night suppressed them summarily.But long after the others were asleep,
he lay thinking of her and listeningto the singing of his soul as he
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watched a star that twinkled with afriendly gleam through a crack in the roof
above his cot. Once again therecame the thought of God and a feeling
of gratitude for this lovely friendship inhis life. If he knew where God
was, he would like to thankhim. Lying so and looking up to
the star, he breathed from hisheart a wordless thanksgiving. The next night
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he wrote and told her he wascoming and asked permission to call and thank
her face to face. Then hefairly haunted the post office at mail time
the rest of the week, hopingfor an answer. He had not had
written his mother about his coming,for he meant not to go this week
if there came no word from Ruth. Besides, it would be nice to
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surprise his mother. Then there wassome doubt about his getting a pass anyway,
and so between the two anxieties hewas kept busy up to the last
minute. But Friday evening he gothis pass, and in the last mill
came a special delivery from Ruth,just a brief note saying she had been
away from home when his letter arrived, but she would be delighted to see
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him on Sunday afternoon, as hehad suggested. He felt like a boy
let loose from school as he brushedup his uniform and polished his big army
shoes, while his less fortunate companionskitted him about the girl he was going
to see. He denied their thrustsjoyously in his heart, repudiating any such
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personalities. Yet somehow it was pleasant. He had never realized how pleasant it
would be to have a girl andbe going to see her. Such a
girl, of course, she wasnot for him, not with that possessiveness,
But she was a friend, areal friend, and he would not
let anything spoil the pleasure of that. He had not thought anything in his
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army experience could be so exciting asat first ride back home again. Somehow
the deference paid to his uniform gotinto his blood and made him feel that
people all along the line really didcare for what the boys were doing for
them. It made camp life andhardships seem less dreary. It was great
to get back to his little motherand put his big arms around her again.
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She seemed so small. Had sheshrunken since he left her, or
was he grown so much huskier withthe out of door life. Both perhaps,
And he looked at her sorrowfully.She was so little and quiet and
brave to bear life all alone,if he could only get back and get
to succeeding in life, so thathe might make some brightness for her.
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She had borne so much, andshe ought not to have looked so old
and warm and at her age.For a brief instant again, his heart
was almost bitter, and he wonderedwhat God meant by giving his good little
mother so much trouble. Was therea God when such things could be?
He resolved to do something about findingout this very day. It was pleasant
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to help his mother about the kitchen, saving her as she had not been
saved since he left. Telling herabout the camp, and listening to her
tearful admiration of him, she couldscarcely take her eyes from him. He
seemed so tall and big and handsomein his uniform. He appeared so much
older and more manly, that herheart yearned for her boy, who seemed
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to be slipping away from her.It was so heavenly blessed to sit down
beside him and sew on a buttonand mend a torn spot in his flannel
shirt, and half him pat hershoulder now and then contentedly. Then with
pride, she sent him down tothe store for something nice for dinner,
and watched him through the window witha smile that hears running down her cheeks.
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How tall and straight he walked,How like his father. When she
first knew him. She hoped theneighbors were all looking out and would see
him her boy, her soldier boy, and he must go away from her,
perhaps to die. But he washere today. She would not think
of the rest. She would rejoicenow in his presence. He walked briskly
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down the street, past the housesthat had been familiar all his life,
meeting people who had never been wontto notice him before, and they smiled
upon him from afar now greeted himwith enthusiasm and turned to look after him
as he passed on. It gavehim a curious feeling to have so much
attention from people who had never knownhim before. It made him feel strangely
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small, yet filled with a greatpride and patriotism for the country that was
his and the government which he nowrepresented to them all. He was something
more to them now than just oneof the boys about town who had grown
up among them. He was asoldier of the United States. He had
given his life for the cause ofrighteousness. The bitterness he might have felt
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at their former ignoring of him wasswallowed up in their genuine and hearty friendliness.
He met the white haired minister,kindly and dignified, who paused to
ask him how he liked camp lifeand to commend him as a soldier.
And looking in his strong, gentleface, John Cameron remembered his resolve.
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He flashed a keen look at thegracious countenance and made up his mind to
speak. I'd like to ask youa question, Doctor Thurlow. It's been
bothering me quite a little ever since. This matter of going away to fight
has been in my mind. Isthere any way that a man that I
can find God? That is,if there is a God. I've never
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thought much about it before, butlife down there in camp makes a lot
of things seem different, and I'vebeen wondering. I'm not sure what I
believe. Is there any way Ican find out? A pleasant gleam of
surprise and delight thrilled into the deepblue eyes of the minister. It was
startling. It almost embarrassed him fora moment. It was so unexpected to
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have a soldier ask a question aboutGod. It was almost mortifying that he
had never thought it worth while totake the initiative on that question with the
young man. Why, certainly,he said, heartily, of course,
of course, I'm very glad toknow you are interested in those things.
Couldn't you come into my study andtalk with me? I think I could
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help you. I'm sure I could. I haven't much time, said Cameron,
shyly, half ashamed, now thathe had opened his heart to an
almost stranger. He was not evenhis mother's minister, and he was a
comparative newcomer in the town. Howhad he come to speak to him so
impulsively? I understand exactly, ofcourse, said the minister, with growing
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eagerness. Could you come in nowfor five or ten minutes. I'll turn
back with you and you can stopon your way, or we can talk
as we go. Were you thinkingof uniting with the church. We have
our communion the first Sunday of nextmonth. I should be very glad if
you could arrange. We have anumber of young people coming in now.
I'd like to see you come withthem. The church is a good,
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safe place to be. It wasestablished by God. It is a school
in which to learn of him itis. But I'm not what you would
call a Christian, protested Cameron.I don't even know that I believe in
the Bible. I don't know whatyour church believes. I don't have a
very definite idea of what any churchbelieves. I would be a hypocrite to
stand up and join a church whenI wasn't sure there was a God,
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My dear young fellow, said theminister affectionately. Not at all, Not
at all. The church is theplace for young people to come when they
have doubts. It is a shelterand a growing place. Just trust yourself
to God and come in among hispeople, and your doubts will vanish.
Don't worry about doubts. Many peoplehave doubts. Just let them alone and
put yourself in the right way,and you will forget them. I should
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be glad to talk with you further. I would like to see you come
into communion with God's people. Ifyou want to find God, you should
come where he has promised to be. It is a great thing to have
a fine young fellow like you anda soldier array himself on the side of
God. I would like to seeyou stand up on the right side before
you go out to meet danger andperhaps death. John Cameron stood watching him
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as he talked. He's a goodold guy, he thought gravely. But
he doesn't get my point. Heevidently believes what he says. But I
don't just see going blindfolded into achurch. However, there's something to what
he says about going where God isif I want to find him out loud,
He merely said, I'll think aboutit, doctor, and perhaps come
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in to see you the next timei'm home. Then he excused himself and
went on to the store. Ashe walked away, he said to himself,
I wonder what Ruth McDonald would sayif I asked her the same question.
I wonder if she has thought anythingabout it. I wonder if I'd
ever have the nerve to ask her. The next morning, he suggested to
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his mother that they go to doctorThurlow's church together. She would have very
much preferred going to her own churchwith him, but she knew that he
did not care for the minister andhad never been very friendly with the people,
so she put aside her secret wishand went with him. To tell
the truth, she was very proudto go anywhere with her handsome soldier's son.
And one thing that made her morewilling was that she remembered that the
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McDonald's always went to the Presbyterian Church, and perhaps they would be there today
and Ruth would see them. Butshe said not a word of this to
her. Boy John spent most ofthe time with his mother. He went
up to the college for an houror so on Saturday evening, dropping in
on his fraternity for a few minutesand realizing what true friends he had among
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the fellows who were left, thoughmost of them were gone. He walked
about the familiar rooms, looking atthe new pictures, photographs of his friends
in uniform. This one was alieutenant an officer's training camp. That one
had gone with the Ambulance Corps.Tom was with the engineers, and Jimmy
and Sam had joined the tank service. Two of the fellows were in France
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in the front ranks. Another hadenlisted in the Marines. It seemed that
hardly any were left, and ofthose three that had been turned down for
some slight physical defect were working inmunitions factories and the shipyard. He did
not stay long. There was arestlessness about it all that pulled the strings
of his heart and made him realizehow different everything was. Sunday morning,
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as he walked to church with hismother, he wondered why he had never
gone more with her when he wasat home. It seemed a pleasant thing
to do. The service was beautifullysolemn, and doctor Thurlow had many gracious
words to say of the boy inthe army, and spent much time reading
letters from those at the front whobelonged to the church and Sunday School,
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and spoke of the supreme sacrifice inlight of a saving grace. But the
sermon was a gentle, ponderous thingthat got nowhere, spiced toward its clothes
with thrilling scenes from battle news.John Cameron, as he listened, did
not feel that he had found God. He did not feel a bit enlightened
by it. He laid it tohis own ignorance and stupidity, though,
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and determined not to give up thesearch. The prayer at the close of
the sermon somehow clinched his resolve,because there was something so genuine and sweet
and earnest about it. He couldnot help thinking that the man might know
more of God than he was ableto make plain to his hearers. He
had really never noticed either a prayeror a sermon before in his life.
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He had sat in the room withvery few. He wondered if all sermons
and prayers were like these, andwished he had noticed them. He had
never been much of a churchgoer.But the climax, the real heart of
his whole two days, was afterSunday dinner, when he went out to
call upon Ruth MacDonald. And itwas characteristic of his whole reticent nature and
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the way he had been brought up, that he did not tell his mother
where he was going. It hadnever occurred to him to tell her his
movements when they did not directly concernher, and she had never brought herself
up to ask him. It isthe habit of some women and many mothers.
A great embarrassment fell upon him ashe entered the grounds of the mac
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donald place, and when he stoodbefore the plate glass doors waiting for an
answer to his ring, he wouldhave turned and fled if he had not
promised to come. It was perhapsnot an accident that Ruth let him in
herself and took him to a big, quiet library with open windows overlooking the
lawn and heavy curtains, shutting themin from the rest of the house,
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where, to his great amazement,he could feel at once at ease with
her and talk to her, justas he had done in her letters and
his own. Somehow, it waslike having a lifetime dream suddenly fulfilled to
be sitting this way in pleasant conversewith her, watching the lights and shadows
of expression flit across her sensitive face, and knowing that the light in her
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eyes was for him. It seemedincredible, but she evidently enjoyed talking to
him. Afterwards, he thought aboutit as if their souls had been calling
to one another a cross infinite space, things that neither of them could quite
hear, and now they were withinhailing distance. He thanked her for the
sweater and other things, and theyhad talked a little about the old school
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days and how life changed people.When he happened to glance out of the
window near him and saw a manin officer's uniform approaching. He stopped short
in the midst of a sentence androse his face, set his eyes still
on the rapidly approaching soldiers. I'msorry, he said, I shall have
to go. It's been wonderful tocome, but I must go at once.
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Perhaps you'll let me go out thisway. It is a shorter cut.
Thank you for everything, and perhapsif there's ever another time, i'd
like to come again. Oh please, don't go yet, she said,
putting out her hand in protest.But he grasped the hand with a quick,
impulsive grip, and with a hastyI'm sorry, but I must.
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He opened the glass door to theside piazza and was gone. In much
bewilderment and distress, Ruth watched himstride away toward the hedge and disappear.
Then she turned to the front windowand caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Wainwright just
mounting the front steps. What didit all mean? End of chapter eight
Chapter eight. Ruth sat looking intospace with starry eyes and glowing cheeks.
After she had read the letter.It seemed to her a wonderful letter,
quite the most wonderful she had everreceived. Perhaps it was because it fitted
so perfectly with her ideal of thewriter, who, from her little girlhood
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had always been a picture of whata hero must be. She used to
dream big things about him when shewas a child. He had been the
best baseball player in school when hewas ten, and the handsomest little rowdy
in town, as well as theboldest, bravest champion of the little girls.
As she grew older and met himoccasionally, she had always been glad
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that he kept his old hero look, though often appearing in rough garb.
She had known they were poor.There had been some story about a loss
of money and a long, expensivesickness of the fathers following an accident,
which made all the circumstances most trying, but she had never heard the details.
She only knew that most of thegirls in her set looked on him
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as a nobody and would no morehave companied with him than with their father's
chauffeur. After he grew older andbegan to go to college. Some of
the girls began to think he wasgood looking, and to say it was
quite commendable in him to try toget an education. Some had even unearthed
the fact that his had been afine old family in former days, and
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that there had been wealth and servantsonce. But the story died down as
John Cameron walked his quiet way apart, keeping to his old friends and not
responding to the feeble advances of thegirls. Ruth had been away at school
in these days and had seldom seenhim. When she had there had always
been that lingering admiration for him fromthe old days. She had told herself
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that, of course he could notbe worth much or people would know him.
He was probably ignorant and uncultured,and a closer acquaintance would show him
far from what her young ideas hadpictured her hero. But somehow that day
at the station, the look inhis face had revealed fine feeling, and
she was glad now to have herintuition concerning him verified by his letter.
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And what a letter it was.Why no young man of her acquaintance could
have written with such poetic delicacy thatparagraph about the rose was beautiful and not
a bit to presuming either, inone who had been a perfect stranger all
these years. She liked his simplefrankness and the easy way He went back
twelve years and began just where theyleft off. There was none of the
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bold forwardness that might have been expectedin one who had not moved in cultured
society. There was no unpleasant assumptionof familiarity, which might have emphasized her
fear that she had overstepped the boundsof convention in writing to him in the
first place. On the contrary,her humiliation at his long delayed answer was
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all forgotten. Now he had understoodher perfectly and accepted her letter in exactly
the way she had meant it,without the least bit of foolishness or unpleasantness.
In short, he had written thesort of a letter that the kind
of man she had always thought hopedhe was would be likely to write,
and it gave her a surprisingly pleasantfeeling of satisfaction. It was as if
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she had discovered a friend all ofher own, not made for her by
her family, nor one to whomshe fell heir because of her wealth and
position, but just one she hadfound out in the great world of souls.
If he had been going to remainat home, there might have been
a number of questions, social andconventional, which would have arisen to bar
(03:44):
the way to this free feeling ofa friendship, and which she would have
had to meet and reason with beforeher mind would have shaken itself unhampered.
But because he was going away andon such an errand perhaps never to return,
the matter of what her friends mightthink or what the world would say,
simply did not enter into the questionat all. The war had lifted
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them both above such ephemeral barriers intothe place of vision, where a soul
was a soul, no matter whathe possessed or who he was. So,
as she sat in her big whiteroom with all its dainty accessories to
a luxurious life, fit setting fora girl so lovely, she smiled unhindered
at this bit of beautiful friendship thathad suddenly drifted down at her feet out
(04:29):
of a great, outside unknown world. She touched the letter thoughtfully, with
caressing fingers and the kind of ahigh look in her eyes that a lady
of old must have worn. Whenshe thought of her night, it came
to her to wonder that she hadnot felt so about any other of her
men friends who had gone into theservice. Why should this special one soldier
boy represent the whole war as itwere in this way? To her,
(04:54):
however, it was but a passingthought, and with a smile upon her
lips, she went to the drawerand brought out the finely knitted garments she
had made, wrapping them up withcare and sending them at once upon their
way. It somehow gave her pleasureto set aside a small engagement she had
for that afternoon until she had postedthe package herself. Even then, when
(05:16):
she took her belated way to alittle gathering in honor of one of her
girlfriends, who was going to bemarried the next week to a young aviator,
she kept the smile on her lipsand the dreamy look in her eyes,
and now and then brought herself backfrom the chatter around her to remember
that something pleasant had happened, notthat there was any foolishness in her thoughts.
(05:38):
There was too much dignity and simplicityabout the girl, young as she
was, to allow her to dealeven with her own thoughts in any but
a maidenly way. And it wasnot in the ordinary way of a maid
with a man. That she thoughtof this young soldier. He was so
far removed from her life in everyway and all the well drilled formalities,
(05:58):
that it never occurred to her tothink of him in the same way she
thought of her other men friends.A friend who understood her and whom she
could understand. That was what shehad always wanted, and what she had
never quite had. With any ofher young associates. One or two had
approached to that, but always therehad been a point at which they had
fallen short. That she should makethis man her friend, whose letter crackled
(06:23):
in her pocket in that intimate senseof the word did not occur to her
even now. He was somehow setapart for service in her mind, and
as such she had chosen him tobe her special knight. She to be
the lady to whom he might lookfor encouragement, whose honor he was going
forth to defend. It was amisty, dreamy ideal of a thought.
(06:45):
Somehow, she would not have pickedout any other of her boyfriends to be
a knight for her. They weretoo flippant, too careless, and light
hearted. The very way in whichthey lighted their multitudinous cigarettes and flipped the
match away. Gave the impression thatthey were going to have the time of
their lives in this war. Theymight have patriotism down at the bottom of
all this froth and boasting. Doubtlessthey had, but there was so little
(07:10):
seriousness about them that one would neverthink of them as knights, defenders of
some great cause of righteousness. Perhapsit was only her old baby fancy for
the little boys who could always lickthe other boys and save the girls from
trouble that prejudiced her in his favor. But at least it was pleasant and
a great relief to know that herimpulsive letter had not been misunderstood. The
(07:33):
girls prattled of this one and thatone, who were going over soon,
told of engagements and marriages soon tooccur. Criticized the brides and grooms to
be declaring their undying opinions about whatwas fitting for a war bride to wear,
and whether they would like to marrya man who had to go right
into war and might return minus anarm or an eye. They discoursed about
(07:57):
the U boats with a frothy cheerfulnessthat made Ruth shudder, and in the
same breath told what nice eyes ayoung captain had who had recently visited the
town, and what perfectly lovely uniformshe wore. They argued with serious zeal
whether a girl should wear an olivedrab suit this year, if she wanted
to look really smart. They werethe girls among whom she had been brought
(08:20):
up, and Ruth was used totheir froth, but somehow to day it
bored her beyond expression. She wasglad to make an excuse to get away,
and she drove her little car aroundby the way of John Cameron's home,
hoping perhaps to get a glimpse ofhis mother again. But the house
had a shut up look. Behindthe vine that he had trained as if
it were lonely, and lying backin a long wait till he should come
(08:45):
or not come. A pang wentthrough her heart for the first time.
She thought what it meant for ayoung life like that to be silenced by
cold steel, the home empty,the mother alone, his ambitions and hopes
unfulfilled. It came to her toothat if he were her night, he
might have to die for her forhis cause. She shuddered and swept the
(09:07):
unpleasant thought away, But it hadleft its mark and would return again.
On the way back, she passeda number of young soldiers home on twenty
four hour leave from the near bycamps. They saluted her most eagerly,
and she knew that any one ofthem would have gladly occupied the vacant seat
in her car, But she wasnot in the mood to talk with them.
(09:28):
She felt that there was something tobe thought out and fixed in her
mind, some impression that life hadfor her that afternoon that she did not
want to lose in the mild fritterof gay banter that would be sure to
follow if she stopped and took homesome of the boys. So she bowed
graciously and swept by at a highspeed, as if in a great hurry.
(09:48):
The war, the war, itwas beating itself into her brain again
in much the same way it haddone on that morning when the draftmen went
away, Only now it had takenon a or personal touch. She kept
seeing the lonely vine clad house wherethat one soldier had lived, and which
he had left so desolate. Shekept thinking how many such homes and mothers
(10:11):
there must be in the land.That evening, when she was free to
go to her room, she readJohn Cameron's letter again, and then,
feeling almost as if she were childishin her haste, she sat down and
wrote an answer. Somehow that secondreading made her feel his wish for an
answer. It seemed a mute appealthat she could not resist. When John
(10:33):
Cameron received that letter and the accompanyingpackage, he was lifted into the Seventh
Heaven for a little while. Heforgot all his misgivings. He even forgot
Lieutenant Wainwright, who had but thatday become a most formidable foe, having
been transferred to Cameron's company, wherehe was liable to be commanding officer in
(10:54):
absence of the captain, and wherefrequent salutes would be inevitable. It had
been a terrible blow to Cameron,but now it suddenly seemed a small matter.
He put on his new sweater andswelled around the way the other boys
did, letting them all admire him. He examined the wonderful socks almost reverently,
putting a large, curious finger gentlyon the red and blue stripes,
(11:18):
and thrilling with the thought that herfingers had plied the needles in those many,
many stitches to make them he almostfelt it would be sacrilege to wear
them, and he laid them awaymost carefully and locked them in the box
under his bed, lest some otherfellow should admire and desire them to his
loss. But with a letter,he walked away into the woods as far
(11:39):
as the bounds of the camp wouldallow, and read and re read it,
rising at last from it as onerefreshed from a comforting meal after long
fasting. It was on the wayback to his barracks that night, walking
slowly under the starlight, not desiringto be back until the last minute before
night taps. Because he did notwish to break the wonderful evening he had
(12:01):
spent with her. That he resolvedto try to leave the next Saturday and
go home to thank her. Backin the barracks with the others, he
fairly scintillated with wit and kept hiscomrades in roars of laughter until the officer
of the night suppressed them summarily.But long after the others were asleep,
he lay thinking of her and listeningto the singing of his soul as he
(12:24):
watched a star that twinkled with afriendly gleam through a crack in the roof
above his cot. Once again therecame the thought of God and a feeling
of gratitude for this lovely friendship inhis life. If he knew where God
was, he would like to thankhim. Lying so and looking up to
the star, he breathed from hisheart a wordless thanksgiving. The next night
(12:46):
he wrote and told her he wascoming and asked permission to call and thank
her face to face. Then hefairly haunted the post office at mail time
the rest of the week, hopingfor an answer. He had not had
written his mother about his coming,for he meant not to go this week
if there came no word from Ruth. Besides, it would be nice to
(13:07):
surprise his mother. Then there wassome doubt about his getting a pass anyway,
and so between the two anxieties hewas kept busy up to the last
minute. But Friday evening he gothis pass, and in the last mill
came a special delivery from Ruth,just a brief note saying she had been
away from home when his letter arrived, but she would be delighted to see
(13:28):
him on Sunday afternoon, as hehad suggested. He felt like a boy
let loose from school as he brushedup his uniform and polished his big army
shoes, while his less fortunate companionskitted him about the girl he was going
to see. He denied their thrustsjoyously in his heart, repudiating any such
(13:48):
personalities. Yet somehow it was pleasant. He had never realized how pleasant it
would be to have a girl andbe going to see her. Such a
girl, of course, she wasnot for him, not with that possessiveness,
But she was a friend, areal friend, and he would not
let anything spoil the pleasure of that. He had not thought anything in his
(14:09):
army experience could be so exciting asat first ride back home again. Somehow
the deference paid to his uniform gotinto his blood and made him feel that
people all along the line really didcare for what the boys were doing for
them. It made camp life andhardships seem less dreary. It was great
to get back to his little motherand put his big arms around her again.
(14:33):
She seemed so small. Had sheshrunken since he left her, or
was he grown so much huskier withthe out of door life. Both perhaps,
And he looked at her sorrowfully.She was so little and quiet and
brave to bear life all alone,if he could only get back and get
to succeeding in life, so thathe might make some brightness for her.
(14:54):
She had borne so much, andshe ought not to have looked so old
and warm and at her age.For a brief instant again, his heart
was almost bitter, and he wonderedwhat God meant by giving his good little
mother so much trouble. Was therea God when such things could be?
He resolved to do something about findingout this very day. It was pleasant
(15:16):
to help his mother about the kitchen, saving her as she had not been
saved since he left. Telling herabout the camp, and listening to her
tearful admiration of him, she couldscarcely take her eyes from him. He
seemed so tall and big and handsomein his uniform. He appeared so much
older and more manly, that herheart yearned for her boy, who seemed
(15:39):
to be slipping away from her.It was so heavenly blessed to sit down
beside him and sew on a buttonand mend a torn spot in his flannel
shirt, and half him pat hershoulder now and then contentedly. Then with
pride, she sent him down tothe store for something nice for dinner,
and watched him through the window witha smile that hears running down her cheeks.
(16:02):
How tall and straight he walked,How like his father. When she
first knew him. She hoped theneighbors were all looking out and would see
him her boy, her soldier boy, and he must go away from her,
perhaps to die. But he washere today. She would not think
of the rest. She would rejoicenow in his presence. He walked briskly
(16:23):
down the street, past the housesthat had been familiar all his life,
meeting people who had never been wontto notice him before, and they smiled
upon him from afar now greeted himwith enthusiasm and turned to look after him
as he passed on. It gavehim a curious feeling to have so much
attention from people who had never knownhim before. It made him feel strangely
(16:47):
small, yet filled with a greatpride and patriotism for the country that was
his and the government which he nowrepresented to them all. He was something
more to them now than just oneof the boys about town who had grown
up among them. He was asoldier of the United States. He had
given his life for the cause ofrighteousness. The bitterness he might have felt
(17:10):
at their former ignoring of him wasswallowed up in their genuine and hearty friendliness.
He met the white haired minister,kindly and dignified, who paused to
ask him how he liked camp lifeand to commend him as a soldier.
And looking in his strong, gentleface, John Cameron remembered his resolve.
(17:30):
He flashed a keen look at thegracious countenance and made up his mind to
speak. I'd like to ask youa question, Doctor Thurlow. It's been
bothering me quite a little ever since. This matter of going away to fight
has been in my mind. Isthere any way that a man that I
can find God? That is,if there is a God. I've never
(17:51):
thought much about it before, butlife down there in camp makes a lot
of things seem different, and I'vebeen wondering. I'm not sure what I
believe. Is there any way Ican find out? A pleasant gleam of
surprise and delight thrilled into the deepblue eyes of the minister. It was
startling. It almost embarrassed him fora moment. It was so unexpected to
(18:11):
have a soldier ask a question aboutGod. It was almost mortifying that he
had never thought it worth while totake the initiative on that question with the
young man. Why, certainly,he said, heartily, of course,
of course, I'm very glad toknow you are interested in those things.
Couldn't you come into my study andtalk with me? I think I could
(18:33):
help you. I'm sure I could. I haven't much time, said Cameron,
shyly, half ashamed, now thathe had opened his heart to an
almost stranger. He was not evenhis mother's minister, and he was a
comparative newcomer in the town. Howhad he come to speak to him so
impulsively? I understand exactly, ofcourse, said the minister, with growing
(18:56):
eagerness. Could you come in nowfor five or ten minutes. I'll turn
back with you and you can stopon your way, or we can talk
as we go. Were you thinkingof uniting with the church. We have
our communion the first Sunday of nextmonth. I should be very glad if
you could arrange. We have anumber of young people coming in now.
I'd like to see you come withthem. The church is a good,
(19:18):
safe place to be. It wasestablished by God. It is a school
in which to learn of him itis. But I'm not what you would
call a Christian, protested Cameron.I don't even know that I believe in
the Bible. I don't know whatyour church believes. I don't have a
very definite idea of what any churchbelieves. I would be a hypocrite to
stand up and join a church whenI wasn't sure there was a God,
(19:44):
My dear young fellow, said theminister affectionately. Not at all, Not
at all. The church is theplace for young people to come when they
have doubts. It is a shelterand a growing place. Just trust yourself
to God and come in among hispeople, and your doubts will vanish.
Don't worry about doubts. Many peoplehave doubts. Just let them alone and
put yourself in the right way,and you will forget them. I should
(20:07):
be glad to talk with you further. I would like to see you come
into communion with God's people. Ifyou want to find God, you should
come where he has promised to be. It is a great thing to have
a fine young fellow like you anda soldier array himself on the side of
God. I would like to seeyou stand up on the right side before
you go out to meet danger andperhaps death. John Cameron stood watching him
(20:30):
as he talked. He's a goodold guy, he thought gravely. But
he doesn't get my point. Heevidently believes what he says. But I
don't just see going blindfolded into achurch. However, there's something to what
he says about going where God isif I want to find him out loud,
He merely said, I'll think aboutit, doctor, and perhaps come
(20:52):
in to see you the next timei'm home. Then he excused himself and
went on to the store. Ashe walked away, he said to himself,
I wonder what Ruth McDonald would sayif I asked her the same question.
I wonder if she has thought anythingabout it. I wonder if I'd
ever have the nerve to ask her. The next morning, he suggested to
(21:14):
his mother that they go to doctorThurlow's church together. She would have very
much preferred going to her own churchwith him, but she knew that he
did not care for the minister andhad never been very friendly with the people,
so she put aside her secret wishand went with him. To tell
the truth, she was very proudto go anywhere with her handsome soldier's son.
And one thing that made her morewilling was that she remembered that the
(21:37):
McDonald's always went to the Presbyterian Church, and perhaps they would be there today
and Ruth would see them. Butshe said not a word of this to
her. Boy John spent most ofthe time with his mother. He went
up to the college for an houror so on Saturday evening, dropping in
on his fraternity for a few minutesand realizing what true friends he had among
(21:59):
the fellows who were left, thoughmost of them were gone. He walked
about the familiar rooms, looking atthe new pictures, photographs of his friends
in uniform. This one was alieutenant an officer's training camp. That one
had gone with the Ambulance Corps.Tom was with the engineers, and Jimmy
and Sam had joined the tank service. Two of the fellows were in France
(22:21):
in the front ranks. Another hadenlisted in the Marines. It seemed that
hardly any were left, and ofthose three that had been turned down for
some slight physical defect were working inmunitions factories and the shipyard. He did
not stay long. There was arestlessness about it all that pulled the strings
of his heart and made him realizehow different everything was. Sunday morning,
(22:45):
as he walked to church with hismother, he wondered why he had never
gone more with her when he wasat home. It seemed a pleasant thing
to do. The service was beautifullysolemn, and doctor Thurlow had many gracious
words to say of the boy inthe army, and spent much time reading
letters from those at the front whobelonged to the church and Sunday School,
(23:07):
and spoke of the supreme sacrifice inlight of a saving grace. But the
sermon was a gentle, ponderous thingthat got nowhere, spiced toward its clothes
with thrilling scenes from battle news.John Cameron, as he listened, did
not feel that he had found God. He did not feel a bit enlightened
by it. He laid it tohis own ignorance and stupidity, though,
(23:27):
and determined not to give up thesearch. The prayer at the close of
the sermon somehow clinched his resolve,because there was something so genuine and sweet
and earnest about it. He couldnot help thinking that the man might know
more of God than he was ableto make plain to his hearers. He
had really never noticed either a prayeror a sermon before in his life.
(23:49):
He had sat in the room withvery few. He wondered if all sermons
and prayers were like these, andwished he had noticed them. He had
never been much of a churchgoer.But the climax, the real heart of
his whole two days, was afterSunday dinner, when he went out to
call upon Ruth MacDonald. And itwas characteristic of his whole reticent nature and
(24:11):
the way he had been brought up, that he did not tell his mother
where he was going. It hadnever occurred to him to tell her his
movements when they did not directly concernher, and she had never brought herself
up to ask him. It isthe habit of some women and many mothers.
A great embarrassment fell upon him ashe entered the grounds of the mac
(24:32):
donald place, and when he stoodbefore the plate glass doors waiting for an
answer to his ring, he wouldhave turned and fled if he had not
promised to come. It was perhapsnot an accident that Ruth let him in
herself and took him to a big, quiet library with open windows overlooking the
lawn and heavy curtains, shutting themin from the rest of the house,
(24:53):
where, to his great amazement,he could feel at once at ease with
her and talk to her, justas he had done in her letters and
his own. Somehow, it waslike having a lifetime dream suddenly fulfilled to
be sitting this way in pleasant conversewith her, watching the lights and shadows
of expression flit across her sensitive face, and knowing that the light in her
(25:15):
eyes was for him. It seemedincredible, but she evidently enjoyed talking to
him. Afterwards, he thought aboutit as if their souls had been calling
to one another a cross infinite space, things that neither of them could quite
hear, and now they were withinhailing distance. He thanked her for the
sweater and other things, and theyhad talked a little about the old school
(25:38):
days and how life changed people.When he happened to glance out of the
window near him and saw a manin officer's uniform approaching. He stopped short
in the midst of a sentence androse his face, set his eyes still
on the rapidly approaching soldiers. I'msorry, he said, I shall have
to go. It's been wonderful tocome, but I must go at once.
(26:02):
Perhaps you'll let me go out thisway. It is a shorter cut.
Thank you for everything, and perhapsif there's ever another time, i'd
like to come again. Oh please, don't go yet, she said,
putting out her hand in protest.But he grasped the hand with a quick,
impulsive grip, and with a hastyI'm sorry, but I must.
(26:22):
He opened the glass door to theside piazza and was gone. In much
bewilderment and distress, Ruth watched himstride away toward the hedge and disappear.
Then she turned to the front windowand caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Wainwright just
mounting the front steps. What didit all mean? End of chapter eight
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