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    Project Gutenberg's Everyman's Land, by C

    N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson

    This eBook is for the use of anyone

    anywhere at no cost and with

    almost no restrictions whatsoever. You ma

    copy it, give it away or

    re-use it under the terms of the Project

    Gutenberg License includedwith this eBook or online at

    www.gutenberg.org

    Title: Everyman's Land

    Author: C. N. Williamson and A. M.

    Williamson

    Release Date: November 14, 2006 [EBook

    #19806]

    Language: English

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK

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    EVERYMAN'S LAND ***

    Produced by V. L. Simpson, Suzanne Shell

    and the Online

    Distributed Proofreading Team at

    http://www.pgdp.net

    EVERYMAN'S

    LAND

    BYC. N. & A. M.

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    WILLIAMSON

    Author of

    "The Lightning Conductor Discovers America,"Lady Betty Across the Water,"

    "Set in Silver,"Etc.

    Frontispiece

    A. L. BURT COMPANY

    Publishers New York

    Published by arrangement with Doubleday, Page& Company

    COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY

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    C. N. & A. M. WILLIAMSONALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT

    OFTRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES

    INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN

    COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY THE FRANK A.MUNSEY COMPANY

    TO ALL SOLDIERS WHO HAVE FOUGHTOR FIGHT FOR EVERYMAN'S LAND AND

    EVERYMAN'S RIGHT; AND TO THOSE

    WHO LOVE FRANCE

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    CHAPTER

    VI

    CHAPTER

    VIICHAPTER

    VIII

    CHAPTER

    IX

    CHAPTER

    X

    CHAPTERXI

    CHAPTER

    XII

    CHAPTERXIII

    CHAPTER

    XIV

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    CHAPTER

    XV

    CHAPTER

    XVICHAPTER

    XVII

    CHAPTER

    XVIII

    CHAPTER

    XIX

    CHAPTERXX

    CHAPTER

    XXI

    CHAPTERXXII

    CHAPTER

    XXIII

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    CHAPTER

    XXIV

    CHAPTER

    XXVCHAPTER

    XXVI

    CHAPTER

    XXVII

    CHAPTER

    XXVIII

    CHAPTERXXIX

    CHAPTER

    XXX

    CHAPTERXXXI

    CHAPTER

    XXXII

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    CHAPTER I

    Padre, when you died, you left a messagfor me. You asked me to go on writing, if were in trouble, just as I used to writwhen you were on earth. I used t"confess," and you used to advise. Alsoyou used to scold.Howyou used to scold

    am going to do now what you asked, ihat message.

    shall never forget how you packed moff to school at Brighton, and Brian tWestward Ho! the year father died andeft us to youthe most troublesomegacy a poor bachelor parson ever had

    'd made up my mind to hate England

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    Brian couldn't hate anything or anybodydreamers don't know how to hate: and wanted to hate you for sending us there.

    wanted to be hated and misunderstood. disguised myself as a Leprechaun ansulked; but it didn't work where you werconcerned. You understood me as no one

    else ever couldor will, I believe. Youaught me something about life, and to sehat people are much the same all over th

    world, if you "take them by the heart."

    You took meby the heart, and you held mby it, from the time I was twelve till thime when you gave your life for you

    country. Ten years! When I tell them ovenow, as a nun tells the beads of her rosary

    realize what good years they were, anhow their goodnesswith such goodnes

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    as I had in me to face themcame througyou.

    Even after you died, you seemed to bnear, with encouragement and adviceRemembering how pleased you werewhen I decided to train as a nurse, adde

    ater to the sense of your nearnessbecause I felt you would rejoice when was able to be of real use. It was onlafter you went that my work began t

    count, but I was sure you knew. I couldhear your voice say, "Good girl! Hurrafor you!" when I got the gold medal fonursing the contagious cases; your dea

    old Irish voice, as it used to say the samwords when I brought you my schooprizes.

    Perhaps I was "a good girl." Anyhow,

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    was a good nurse. Not that I deservemuch credit! Brian was fighting, and idanger day and night. You were gone; and

    was glad to be a soldier in my way, witnever a minute to think of myself. Besidessomehow I wasn't one bit afraid. I lovehe work. But,Padre mio, I am not a goo

    girl now. I'm a wicked girl, wickeder thayou or I ever dreamed it was in me to beat my worst. Yet if your spirit shouldappear as I write, to warn me that I'sinning an unpardonable sin, I should gon sinning it.

    For one thing, it's for Brian, twin brothe

    of my body, twin brother of my heart. Foanother thing, it's too late to turn backThere's a door that has slammed shubehind me.

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    only have imagined my tiredness thoughfor when I heard about Brian I grewsuddenly strong as steel. I was give

    eave, and disinfected, and purified ahoroughly as Esther when she was beinmade worthy of Ahasuerus. Then I dashedoff to catch the first train going north.

    St. Raphael was our railway station, but hadn't seen the place since I took up worn the Hpital des pidmies. That wa

    many months before; and meanwhile raining-school for American aviators had

    been started at St. Raphael. News of itprogress had drifted to our ears, but o

    course the men weren't allowed to comwithin a mile of us: we were tocontagious. They had sent presents, thougpresents of money, and one grand gif

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    had burst upon us from a younmillionaire whose father's name is knoweverywhere. He sent a cheque for a su

    so big that we nurses were nearly knockedown by the size of it. With it waenclosed a request that the money shoulbe used to put wire-nettings in al

    windows and doors, and to build a roofeoggia for convalescents. If there wer

    anything left over, we might buy deckchairs and air-pillows. Of course it waeasy for any one to know that we needeall these things. Our lack was notoriousWe sent a much disinfected, carbolic

    smelling round robin of thanks to "JameW. Beckett, Junior," son of the westernrailway king.

    As I drove to thegare of St. Raphael,

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    hought of the kind boys who had helpeour poorpoilus, and especially of JameBeckett. Whether he were still at th

    aviation camp, or had finished his traininand gone to the front, I didn't know: but wafted a blessing to our benefactor. I littldreamed then of the unforgivable injury

    was fated to do him! You see, Padre, I usehe word "fated." That's because I'vurned coward. I try to pretend that fat

    has been too strong for me. But down deepknow you were right when you said

    "Our characters carve our fate."

    t was a long journey from the south to th

    north, where Brian was, for in war-dayrains do what they like and what nobod

    else likes. I travelled for three days annights, and when I came to my journey'

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    end, instead of Brian being dead as I'seen him in a hundred hideous dreams, thdoctors held out hope that he might live

    They told me this to give me couragebefore they broke the news that he woulbe blind. I suppose they thought I'd be shankful to keep my brother at any price

    hat I should hardly feel the shock. But wasn't thankful. I wasn't! The pricseemed too big. I judged Brian by myselBrian, who so worshipped beauty that used to call him "Phidias!" I was sure hwould rather have gone out of this worlwhose face he'd loved, than stay in i

    without eyes for its radiant smile. Buhere I made a great mistake. Brian wamagnificent. Perhaps you would havknown what to expect of him better than

    knew.

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    Where you are, you will understand whhe did not despair. I couldn't understandhen, and I scarcely can now, though livin

    with my blind Brian is teaching messons I feel unworthy to learn. It was hwho comforted me, not I him. He said thaall the beauty of earth was his already

    and nothing could take it away. Hwouldn't letit be taken away! He said thasight was first given to all createcreatures in the form of a desire to seedesire so intense that with the developinfaculty of sight, animals developed eyefor its concentration. He reminded m

    how in dreams, and even in thoughtsihey're vivid enoughwe see as distinctlwith our brains as with our eyes. He saihe meant to make a wonderful world fo

    himself with this vision of the brain an

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    soul. He intended to develop the powerso that he would gain more than he haost, and I must help him.

    Of course I promised to h