Her little brother was learning these things, too, in the Corps of
Officers. Also he was already proficient on the balalaika.
* * * * *
And again, in the mountains of a conquered province, the little
daughter of a gamekeeper to nobility was preparing to emigrate with
her father to a new home in the Western world, where she would learn
to perform miracles with rifle and revolver, and where the beauty of
the hermit thrush's song would startle her into comparing it to the
beauty of her own untried voice. But to her father, and to her, the
most beautiful thing in all the world was love of Fatherland.
* * * * *
Over these, and millions of others, brooded the spell of the Dark
Star. Even the world itself lay under it, vaguely uneasy, sometimes
startled to momentary seismic panic. Then, ere mundane self-control
restored terrestrial equilibrium, a few mountains exploded, an island
or two lay shattered by earthquake, boiling mud and pumice blotted out
one city; earth-shock and fire another; a tidal wave a third.
But the world settled down and balanced itself once more on the edge
of the perpetual abyss into which it must fall some day; the invisible
shadow of the Dark Star swept it at intervals when some far and
nameless sun blazed out unseen; days dawned; the sun of the solar
system rose furtively each day and hung around the heavens until that
dusky huntress, Night, chased him once more beyond the earth's
horizon.
The shadow of the Dark Star was always there, though none saw it in
sunshine or in moonlight, or in the silvery lustre of the planets.
A boy, born under it, stood outside the fringe of willow and alder,
through which moved two English setters followed and controlled by the
boy's father.
"Mark!" called the father.
Out of the willows like a feathered bomb burst a big grouse, and the
green foliage that barred its flight seemed to explode as the strong
bird sheered out into the sunshine.
The boy's gun, slanting upward at thirty degrees, glittered in the sun
an instant, then the left barrel spoke; and the grouse, as though
struck by lightning in mid-air, stopped with a jerk, then slanted
swiftly and struck the ground.
"Dead!" cried the boy, as a setter appeared, leading on straight to
the heavy mass of feathers lying on the pasture grass.
"Clean work, Jim," said his father, strolling out of the willows. "But
wasn't it a bit risky, considering the little girl yonder?"
"Father!" exclaimed the boy, very red. "I never even saw her. I'm
ashamed."