Foe-Farrell

Foe-Farrell, by Arthur Thomas
Quiller-Couch

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Title: Foe-Farrell
Author: Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
Release Date: August 25, 2006 [EBook #19114]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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FOE-FARRELL ***

Produced by Lionel Sear

FOE-FARRELL.
By Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch.

TO ANYONE WHO SUPPOSES THAT HE HAS A WORSE
ENEMY THAN HIMSELF.

CONTENTS.
BOOK I--INGREDIENTS.
PROLOGUE.
NIGHT THE FIRST--John Foe.
NIGHT THE SECOND--The Meeting at the Baths.
NIGHT THE THIRD--The Grand research.
NIGHT THE FOURTH--Adventure of the Police Station.
NIGHT THE FIFTH--Adventure of the "Catalafina".
NIGHT THE SIXTH--Adventure of the Picturedrome.
NIGHT THE SEVENTH--The Outrage.
BOOK II--THE CHASE.
NIGHT THE EIGHTH--Vendetta.
NIGHT THE NINTH--The Hunt is Up.
NIGHT THE TENTH--Pilgrimage of Hate.
NIGHT THE ELEVENTH--Science of the Chase.
NIGHT THE TWELFTH--The Emania.
NIGHT THE THIRTEENTH--Escape.
BOOK III--THE RETRIEVE.

NIGHT THE FOURTEENTH--San Ramon
NIGHT THE FIFTEENTH--Redivivus.
NIGHT THE SIXTEENTH--Captain Macnaughten.
NIGHT THE SEVENTEENTH--No. 2 Boat.
NIGHT THE EIGHTEENTH--"And so they came to the Island . . ."
NIGHT THE NINETEENTH--The Castaways.
NIGHT THE TWENTIETH--One Man Escapes.
BOOK IV--THE COUNTERCHASE.
NIGHT THE TWENTY-FIRST--The Yellow Dog.
NIGHT THE TWENTY-SECOND--The Second Man escapes.
NIGHT THE TWENTY-THIRD--Counterchase.
NIGHT THE TWENTY-FOURTH--Constantia.
NIGHT THE TWENTY-FIFTH--The Paying of the Score.
EPILOGUE.

BOOK I.

INGREDIENTS.

If the red slayer thinks he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They
know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again.
EMERSON: Brahma.

The best kind of revenge is not to become like him. MARCUS
AURELIUS ANTONINUS.

PROLOGUE
Otway told this story in a dug-out which served for officers' mess of a
field-battery somewhere near the Aisne: but it has nothing to do with
the War. He told it in snatches, night by night, after the manner of
Scheherazade in the Arabian Nights Entertainments, and as a rule to an
auditory of two. Here is a full list of:
PERSONS OF THE DIALOGUE
NARRATOR.
Major Sir Roderick Otway, Bart., M.C., R.F.A.
AUDIENCE AND INTERLOCUTORS.
Lieut. John Polkinghorne. R.F.A., of the Battery.
Sec. Lieut. Samuel Barham, M.C. R.F.A., of the Battery.
Sec. Lieut. Percy Yarrell-Smith. R.F.A., of the Battery
Sec Lieut. Noel Williams, R.F.A., attached for instruction.
But military duties usually restricted the audience to two at a time,
though there were three on the night when Barham (Sammy) set his
C.O. going with a paragraph from an old newspaper. The captain--one
McInnes, promoted from the ranks--attended one stance only. He dwelt
down at the wagon-lines along with the Veterinary Officer, and brought
up the ammunition most nights, vanishing back in the small hours like
a ghost before cock-crow.
The battery lay somewhat wide to the right of its fellows in the brigade;
in a saucer-shaped hollow on the hill-side, well screened with scrub.

Roughly it curved back from the straight lip overlooking the slope, in a
three-fifths segment of a circle; and the officers' mess made a short arc
in it, some way in rear of the guns. You descended, by steps, cut in the
soil and well pounded, into a dwelling rather commodious than large:
for Otway--who knew about yachts--had taken a fancy to construct it
nautical-wise, with lockers that served for seats at a narrow saloon table,
sleeping bunks excavated along the sides, and air-holes like cabin
top-lights, cunningly curtained by night, under the shell-proof cover.
"It cost us a week," he wrote home to his sister, "to get the place to my
mind. Since then we have been adding fancy touches almost daily, and
now the other batteries froth with envy. You see, it had to be contrived,
like the poet's chest of drawers."
A double debt to pay:
Doss-house by night and bag-of-tricks by day.
And here we have lived now, shooting and sleeping (very little sleeping)
for five solid weeks. All leave being off, I have fallen into this way of
life, almost without a thought that there ever had been, or could be,
another, and feel as if my destiny were to go on at it for ever and ever.
And this at thirty-five, Sally!
"It must be ever so much worse for the youngsters, one would say.
Anyway I have had ten good years that they are missing . . . Cambridge,
Henley, Lord's; Ascot, and home-to-tidy, and afterwards the little
Mercedes, and you and I rolling in to Prince's and the theatre, whilst
good old Bob is for the House, to take his exercises walking the lobbies;
clean linen after the bath, and my own sister beside me--she