Greater Love
We was just standin' here at about eleven in the evenin', an' the moonwas beginnin' to rise. We could see the little patch of light growin'bigger an' bigger, just as it is now, an' we knew that before manymoments the light would be up over the sea. My back was to the sea, an'Bill was leanin' agin' the handrail, just like you now.It ain't much, sir, after all; leastwise to you; but it was, aye,an' it is, a deal to me, for it has all my life in it, such as it is.There's a deal of poetry an' story-tellin' in books; but, Lor' blessye, if ye could see the heart right through of even such men as me,you'd have no need o' books when you wanted poetry and romance. Ioften think that them chaps in them don't feel a bit more nor we dowhen things is happenin'; it's only when they're written down thatthey become heroes an' martyrs, an' suchlike. Why, Bill was as big ahero as any of them. I often wished as how I could write, that Imight tell all about him.Howsumdever, if I can't write, I can talk, an' if you're not in ahurry, an'll wait till I tell you all, I'll be proud. It does me goodto talk about Bill.Well, when I turned round an' faced Bill I see his eyes with thelight in 'em, an' they was glistenin'. Bill gives a big gulp, an'says to me:"Joe, the world's a big place, big enough for you an' me to livein without quarrelin'. An', mayhap, the same God as made one womanwould make another, an' we might both live an' be happy. You an' mehas been comrades for long, an' God knows that, next to Mary, I'dbe sad to see you die, so whatever comes, we won't quarrel or thinkhard of one another, sure we won't, Joe."He put out his hand, an' I took it sudden. We held hands for along time. I thought he was in low spirits, and I wished to cheerhim, so I says:"Why, Bill, who talks o' dyin' that's as hearty as we?"He shook his head sadly, an' says he:''Joe, I don't vally my life at a pin's head, an' I ain't afraidto die. For her sake or for yours - aye, even for her pleasure -I'd - No matter. Just see if I turn coward if I ever get the chanceto do her a service."Well, we stood there for a long time. Neither of us said a word,for I didn't like to speak, although I would several times haveliked to ask him a question. An' then I gave up wishin' to speak,an' began to think, like him.I thought of all the time Bill an' me had been friends an' comrades,an' how fond we were both of Mary, an' she of us. Ye see, when we wasall children, the little thing took such a fancy for both of us thatwe couldn't help likin' her for it, and so we became, in course of time,like big brothers to her. She would come down on the shore with Billan' me an' sit quiet all the day an' never say a word or do anythingto annoy us or put us out. Sometimes we'd go out sailin', an' thenshe would come an' sit beside whoever was steerin' till he'd ask herto come up an' sit on his knee. Then she'd put up her little armsround his neck an' kiss him, an' would stay as quiet as a mouse tillshe'd have to change her place. That was the way, sir, that we bothcame to be so fond of her.An', sure enough, when she began to grow up, Bill an' me wantednone other but her. An' the more she grew, the prouder we were of her,till at last we found out that we were both of us in love with her.But we never told her so, or let her see it; an' she had grown up soamongst us that she never suspected it. She said so long after.Then Bill an' me held a kind of council about what was to be done,an' so we came to be talkin' on the bridge that night. Mary was growin'into a young woman, an' we feared that some other chap might take herfancy, if one of us didn't get her at once. Bill was very serious,far more serious than me, for I had somehow got the idea into my headas how Mary cared for me, an' as long as I felt that I couldn't feeleither unhappy or downhearted.All at once Bill's face grew brighter, an' there was a soft lookin his eyes.''Joe," he says, "whatever happens, Mary must never hang her head.The lass is tender-hearted, and she likes both of us, we know; an'as she can only love one of us, it might pain her to think that whenshe was marryin' one man she was leavin' a hole in the life of hiscomrade. So she must never know as how we both love her, if we canprevent it."When we got that far, I began to grow uneasy. I began to distrustBill - God forgive me for it - an' to think that maybe he was fixin'some plan for to cut me out. I must have been jealous, that was it.But I was punished for my distrust when he went on:''Joe, old lad, we both love her an' we love each other; an' Godknows I'd go away, an' willin', an' leave her to you, but who knowsthat mayhap she'd like me better of the two. Women is queer creaturesin lettin' a fellow see their hearts till they see his first."Then he stayed quiet, an' so I says to him:"How are we to manage to do that, Bill? If we tell her, won't sheknow that we both love her? An' you said you wouldn't like her to dothat.""That's just what I was thinkin' of," he says. "An' I see how wemay do it. One of us must go to her an' find out if she loves him,an' if she does, the other will say nothin'."I felt feared, so I asked him:''Who is to go, Bill?"He came over an' took me by the shoulder, an' says he:''Joe, so far as I can see, the lass cares for you the most; youmust go first an' find out."I tried not to appear joyful, an' I says:"Bill, that isn't fair; whoever goes first has the best chance. Whywon't you go, or why not draw lots?" I've had a many hard tussles inmy time, both with men an' things, but I never had such a struggle asI had to say them words."Joe," says Bill, "you must do all you can to win her yourself, an'don't let any thoughts of me hinder you. I'll be best pleased by seein'her an' you happy, if so be she loves you." Then he stood up fromleaning on the rail, an' says he:''Joe, give me your hand before we go, an' mind, I charge you onyour honor as a man, never while I'm livin', to let Mary know as howI loved her, in case she chooses you." So I promised. I felt Bill'shand grip like a vice, an' then we turned an' walked away home an'never spoke another word that night, either of us.I didn't sleep much that night, and when it began to get to mornin'I got up an' went down to the sea an' had a swim, an' that freshenedme up somewhat. I wasn't much of a swimmer myself, but I could manageto keep myself up pretty well. That was the point where I envied Billmost of all. He was the finest swimmer I ever see. He did a manythings well, an' no lad in this county could come near him in anythinghe chose to do; but in swimmin' none could come anigh him at all. An'many's the time it stood to others as well as himself.Well, when I had had my bathe, I went up toward Mary's home, an'found myself goin' in to ask her straight off to marry me. Then Ibegan to think it was too early for Mary to be up; so I stole awayon tiptoe, an' walked round the house. Then I thought I'd go an' lookup Bill, an' came anigh his house. But when I came to the door, asI didn't like to knock, I thought I'd speer in, an' see if he wasasleep. So I stole to the window an' looked in.I never shall forget to my dyin' day what I saw then. I wasn't abad fellow, thank God, at any time, but I couldn't be a bad fellow ordo anything I thought very wrong after that. There was Bill, just asI had left him the night before. He had never changed his clothes,an' the candle was flickerin' down in the socket, unheeded. He waskneelin' down by the bed, with his arms stretched out before him, an'his face down on the quilt. That was thirty-seven year ago, but itseems like yesterday. I thought at first he was sleepin', but I sawfrom a movement he made that he was awake. So I stole away, guiltylike,an' went down an' stood beside the sea. I took off my hat, an' letthe wind blow about my forehead, for somehow it felt burnin', an' Ilooked out over the sea for long. Somehow my heart beat like as ifit was lead, an' I felt half choked. I dunno how long I would havestayed there only for Bill. He came behind me, and put his hand on myshoulder and said, sudden:"Why, Joe, what are you doin' here?"I turned, startled, an' saw that he was smilin'. I was sothunderstruck at seein' the change, that for a moment I said nothin'.He says to me again:''Joe, I thought you'd have more to do than think of eatin' thismornin', an' it's bad to court on an empty stomach! So come up to myplace; I've got breakfast for the both of us."I couldn't realize that this hearty chap was the man I saw prayin'after the long night. I looked at him keenly, but could see no signof his actin' a part in his face. He was gayer an' livelier than ever,an' in such good spirits that he made me gay, too. I couldn't forgethow I'd seen him a short while since; but I laid the thought by,an' didn't let it trouble me. I went up to his place. It was cleanan' tidy as ever, an' the breakfast was ready. He made me eat some,an' when I was done, he brushed me up an' tidied me, an' says he:"Go in an' win, old lad. God bless ye!" I went away toward Mary'shouse; but before I lost sight of Bill, I turned, an' he waved hishand to me with a kind smile an' went in an' shut the door.I went on toward Mary's; but the farther I went the slower I got.An' when I got to the garden gate I stopped altogether. I stayedmoonin' about there for a while, till at last Mary sees me an' comesout. I don't know how to tell you what took place then. I ain't morebashfuller than a man of my years ought to be, but somehow it comesrough on a man to tell this kind of ting. Oh, no; it ain't that Idon't remember it all; for I do, well. But, ye see - ye won't laughat me? I know'd ye wouldn't; I ax yer pardon. Well, to prove it toye, I'll say what I never said yet to mortal, except Mary - an' thatonly once.Mary comes out to me, runnin' like a little girl, with her faceall dimplin' over with pleasure, an' she says:''Why, Joe, what brings you here at this hour? Come in, Joe!Mother, here's Joe! Have you had your breakfast, Joe? Come in!"I felt that I would never have courage to speak out before hermother if I went into the cottage, so I stayed beside the gate an'let her talk on. As I looked at her then, I could hardly believewhat I was come for; it seemed like doin' something wrong to try tochange her from what she was. She looked so lovely an' so bright thatit seemed a pity ever to wish her to be aught else - even my ownwife. An', beside, the thought came an' hit me hard, that mayhap shewouldn't have me, after all. I tried to think on that; but, Lor'bless ye, I couldn't. It seemed somethin' so terrible that I couldn'tthink it. However, I stood still, sayin' nothin', till she began tonotice. I wasn't used to be sheepish before Mary or any one else; sowhen she had done her talkin' she looked at me sudden, an' then hereyes fell, an', after a moment, she blushed up to the roots of herhair an' says:"Joe, what's the matter with you? You don't look as usual."I blurted out all in a moment:"No, Mary; nor I ain't the same as usual, for I'm in trouble."She came close to me before I could say any more - she wasn'tlookin' down or blushin' then - an' she says:"Oh, Joe, I'm sorry for that." An' she put her arm on my shoulder.Then she went on, in a kind o' tender voice:"Did you tell Bill?""Yes," I says."And what did he say?''"He told me to come to you!""To me, Joe?" she says, an' looked puzzled."Yes," I says, in despair like. "I'm in trouble, Mary, for I wantyou to marry me.""Oh, Joe!" she says, an' drew away a little. Then she says to me,with a queer look on her face:''Joe, run an' tell Bill I want to see him - to come as soon ashe can."Well, them words went through me like so many knives, an' if everI could have hated Bill, it would have been then. What could she wantBill for, I thinks to myself, but to find out if he loves her, too -an' to have him? I thinks how mad a woman would be to have me whenshe could get a man like Bill. I was afraid to say anything, so I setoff smart for him, for I feared I wouldn't be able to tell him if Ididn't go at once. I tried not to think while I was goin' down theroad; but I couldn't get her words out of my head. They seemed tokeep time with my feet, an' I heard them over an' over again:"Tell - Bill - I - want - to - see - him! Tell - Bill - I - want -to - see - him!"At last I got to the house, an' found Bill inside, mendin' a netthat hung agin' the wall. He turned round quickly when I came in, an'his heart began to beat so hard that I could see it thumpin' insidehis guernsey. He saw I wasn't lookin' pleased, so he came near an'put his two hands on my shoulders an' looked me in the face.''What cheer, Joe?" he says, an' I could see that he was tryin'to control himself. When I told him the message, he began tremblin'all over, an' got as white as a sheet. Then he says to me in athick kind o' voice:''Joe, how did she look when she said it?"I tried to tell him, an' asked him to hurry on."In a minute," says he, an' went into the other room.When he came back I turned round, expectin' to see him got up abit; but there he was just as he went in, in his old workin' clothes.But he was quiet lookin', an' had a smile on his face."Bill, old lad," I says, "aren't ye goin' to tidy up a bit? MayhapMary'd like to see ye neat.""No," he says; "I'll go as I am. If it be as it may be, she won'tlike me none the worse for comin' quick; an' if it don't be - Come on,Joe, an' don't keep her waitin'."Well, we walked up the road without sayin' a word. When we came insight of Mary's cottage it seemed darker to me than it had been.Mary came out of the gate to meet us, an' when she spoke to Bill Idropped behind. They two went into the arbor that we had built forher. They sat talkin' for a few minutes - I could see them through thehedge - an' at last I saw Bill bend down his head an' kiss her. Sheput her arms round his neck an' kissed him. An' at that the whole ofthe light seemed to go out of the sky, an' I wished I was dead.I would have gone away, but I could hardly stir. I leaned up againstthe hedge, an' didn't mind any more till I heard Bill's voice callin'me. I came in at the gate, puttin' on as good a face as I could, an'came into the arbor.Bill an' Mary was standin' up, an' Bill's face looked beamin',while Mary's was red as a rose.Bill beckoned me over, an' when I came near, he says:''Well, Mary, shall I tell him now?""Yes, Bill," she says, in a kind of a whisper; so he says to me:''Joe, I give her to you! She wouldn't let none do it but me; forshe says she loves me like as a brother. Take her, Joe, an' love herwell, an' God bless ye both!"He put her in my arms, an' she clung to me.I was bewildered, an' could hardly see; but when I came to lookabout there was Mary in my arms, with her face buried in my breast,an' her arms round my neck.Bill was makin' down the road, upright an' steady as ever. Eventhen, for a moment, I couldn't think of Mary, for my thoughts wentback to when I saw Bill kneelin' beside his bed, with his armsstretched out, an' I felt - if you'll believe me - more sorrow thanjoy. I know now that Bill had wrestled with the devil that night,an' threw him, if ever a man did. Poor Bill! Poor Bill!I suppose I needn't tell you what Mary an' me said? It wouldn'tsound much, at any rate, altho' it pleased us. When I felt that sheloved me I forgot even Bill, an' we was happier than tongue couldtell.Well, the time went on for a month or two, an' we was thinkin'of gettin' married soon. I was gettin' my cottage ready an' spendin'some of the money I had saved to make it bright for Mary. Bill workedwith me early an' late, but it wasn't only his time that he gave tome. He would often go into the town to buy the things I wanted, an'I'm sure he never got them for what he told me. I said nothin', forI knew that it would only hurt him, an' it was little enough that Icould do for Bill to let him help if he chose. I used to watch himto see if he wasn't unhappy, but I never seed a sign of sorrow onhim. He always looked happy an' bright, an' he worked harder thanever, an' was kinder to all around him. I knew he didn't forget - forhow could he forget Mary? - an' I feared at times lest he might fretin secret. But I never seed him grieve. I could hardly imagine, whenI would think on it, how Mary came to take me or love me when Billwas nigh her.Well, the time wasn't long goin' by, for we was happy, an' had allour lives before us, an', at length, the day came round before we wasto be married. It was Easter Sunday we was to be married on, an' allthe people as knew Mary an' me - an' that was all the village - wasgoin' to have a grand holiday. We was to go an' have a feast out onthe island, an' we was gettin' the boats cleaned an' nice an' smartfor the occasion. In coorse, everybody had to bring their own inners;but we was to join them all together an' make a grand feast. We hadgot a cask o' beer, an' we was to have great doin's an' a dance onthe grass. There's the finest sod for dancin' in the countryside outyonder on the island, an' we'd got Mike Wheeler to bring his fiddle,with an extra set of strings. We weren't to come home till evenin'when the tide turned, an' then we would have a race home.Well, Bill an' me, we both took tea at Mary's house that evenin',an' when we came home Bill asked me to go into his house for awhilean' have a quiet talk. We lit our pipes, drew up our chairs, an'sat down by the fire an' puffed away, without sayin' a word for sometime, an' then Bill says to me:"Well, Joe, there won't be a man in the church to-morrow thatwon't envy you - except myself."I thought of him kneelin' down by the bedside that mornin' whenhe says that, so I thought to tell him. I put down my pipe an' camean' put my arms on his shoulder, as I used to do when we was boystogether, an' told him all I knew. He just shook hands with me, an'says he:''Joe, it was a hard fight, but, thank God, I won. I've crushedout all the old love now. Why, lad, to-morrow she'll be your wife,an' I'll care for her no more than any other woman - as a sweetheart,I mean, for I'm a brother to her now as long as we live - an' toyou, Joe. It ain't that I think less of her, for I'd walk into thefire for her this minute, but - I can't explain it, Joe. You knowwhat I mean.""Bill," I says, "you've been a true friend to me an' Mary, an' Ihope we'll always be able to show how much we both love you. May Godjudge me hard when I die if ever I have a hard thought of you aslong as I live!"We said no more after that. I went out, but came back in a minuteto tell Bill to be sure to come an' wake me if he was up first; butwhen I was passin' the window I see him hangin' a coat up over it.It wasn't that he thought I'd spy on him again that he did that. Isaw that in his face; but he feared I might see him again somehow,and that it might pain me.Well, I woke in the mornin' as soon as it was daylight, an' wentdown an' had a swim, an' then came home an' brushed my new clothes an'laid out the shirt that Mary had worked for me herself, an' washedas white as snow. Then Bill came down to me. He was to take hisbreakfast with me that mornin', an' he came all dressed for theweddin' in a new suit of clothes. He was a real handsome, fine fellowat any time, but he looked like a gentleman that mornin'. Then Ithought that Mary must have done right to choose a laborin' man likeme rather than a chap like Bill, that was above all of us, exceptin his heart.We went off to the church an' waited till Mary an' her mothercame. All the people was there outside the porch, an' some of thegentlefolks was inside. The squire's family was in their pew, for,ye see, Mary was a favorite with them all, an' they came early tochurch to see her married. I felt very solemn then, but I couldhardly feel as how Mary was goin' to marry me. There she was, aslovely as an angel, an' blushin' like a rose. I said my "I will"in a low voice, for it seemed awkward to me to say it loud; butMary said hers out in a clear, sweet voice, an' then the parsonblessed us, an' spoke to us so solemn that we both cried, an' Marynestled up close to me. When it came to kiss the bride, Bill wasfirst, an' claimed the kiss, so the other lads had to give up. Billbent down an' took her pretty face between his two hands an' kissedher on the forehead.Agin the weddin' was over, it was time for service, so we all wentto our seats - an' I never felt solemner in my life than I did then;nor did Mary, either.When the service was over we all came out; an' the people stoodby on both sides to let Mary an' me walk down the churchyard togetheran' go first out of the gate.We all went down to the beach, where the boats was ready on theshore. Some of them was freshly painted, an' a couple had brightribbons tied about them. Bill's boat was the one that Mary an' mewas to go in, an' Bill himself was to pull stroke oar in her. Hehad got for a crew three of the young fellows we knew best, an' whowas the cracks at rowin', an' we was determined to race all theother boats to the island. The lads had all run on before us, an'when we came down to the beach the boats was all ready, an' thebaskets with the dinner put in them, so we all got on board, an'off we started.Mary an' me, we held the rudder together, an' Bill an' his ladsbent to their oars, an' away we flew, an' in a quarter of an hourcame to the island, leading the others by a hundred yards. We allgot out, an' the lads carried up the baskets to the slope up yonder,where you see the moonlight shine on the island, where there was afine, level place on the edge of the cliff.The grass there was short an' as smooth as a table; an' when youstood on the edge of the cliff the water was straight below you, forthe rock went sheer some forty feet. Mary an' me stood there onthe edge while the lads an' the girls got ready the feast, for theywouldn't let us put hand to anything; an' we looked at the waterhurryin' by under us. The tide had turned, an' the water was runnin'like a mill race down away past the island, an' runnin' straightaway for the head off there as far as you can see. The currents isvery contrary here, so you'd better not get caught in them whenyou're sailin' or swimmin'.We all sat down, an' if we didn't enjoy our dinner, all of us, itwas a queer thing; an' after dinner was over the girls insisted onhavin' a dance. We got the things all cleared off an' danced away forsome time, an' then some one proposed blind man's buff. One youngfellow was blinded, an' we all stood round; an' then the fun began.The young chap - Mark Somers by name - used to make wild rushes totry an' get some one, an' then the girls yelled out, an' they allscurried away as quick as they could, an' the fun grew greater an'greater. At last he made a dive over to the place where Mary wasstandin' near the brink of the cliff. We all yelled to her to takecare where she was goin'; but I suppose she thought it was merelyour fun, for she laughed an' screamed out like the others - an'stepped backward. Before any one could stop her, she went over theedge of the cliff an' disappeared. I was sittin' up on a rock, an'when I saw her fall over the edge I gave a cry that you might haveheard a mile away an' jumped down an' ran across the grass.But a better man than me was there before me. Bill had pulled offhis jacket an' kicked off his shoes, an' was at the edge before me.Before he jumped, he cried out:"Joe, run for the boats, quick! I'll keep her up till you come. Ican swim stronger nor you."I didn't wait a second, but ran down to where the boats was drawnup on the beach. Some of the chaps came with me as hard as they couldrun, an' we shoved down the nearest boat. But in spite of all ourefforts - an' we was so mad with excitement that not one of us buthad the strength of ten - it took us a couple of minutes to get outfair on the water.Well, when we was fair started I pulled so hard that I broke myoar, an' we had to stop to get another; an' then we had to row all theway round the spur of the rocks out there before we could even seewhereabout Mary an' Bill should be. The men an' women on the rocksscreamed out to us an' pointed in their direction, an' the boat flewalong at every stroke. But the current was mortal strong, an' theyhad been for nigh five minutes in the water before we caught sightof them. An' it seemed to me to be years before we came anigh them atall. Mary was weighed down with her clothes, an' Bill with his; an',in spite of what a swimmer I knew Bill was, I feared lest we shouldcome too late.At last we began to close on them. I could see over my shoulder aswe rowed. I could only see Mary's face, but that was beacon enough forme. I called to one of the men to slip into my place an' row, an'he did, an' I got out into the bows. There was Mary with her faceall white an' her eyes closed, as if she was dead; her hair was alldraggin' in the water, an' as the current rolled her along, her dressmoved as if it was some strange fish under the water. I could seeothin' of Bill; but I hadn't need to think, for I knew that whereMary was there was Bill somewhere anigh to her. When we came nearerI saw where Bill was.Look here, he was down under the water, an' with his last breath hewas keepin' her afloat till we came. I saw his two hands rise up outof the water, holdin' her up by the hair; but that was all. Many'sthe time since then that, in spite of all I loved Mary, I was temptedto be cross with her - for we laborin' men is only rough folk, afterall, an' we have a deal o' hardship to bear at times. But whenever Iwas tempted to say a hard word, or even to think hard of her, themtwo hands of Bill's seemed to rise up between me an' her, and I couldno more think or say a hard word than I could stand quiet an' seeanother man strike her. An' I wouldn't be like for to do that!Well, we took them into the boat an' came home. Mary recovered,for she had only had the shock of her fall; but when we took in Bill,it was only -He kept his word that he spoke to me that night; he gave up hislife for hers! You'll see that on his tomb in the churchyard that weall put up to him:"Greater Love Hath No Man Than This:That a Man Shall Give Up His Life For His Friend."There's no more left like Bill. An' Mary thinks it, too, as wellas me.
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